by Betty Bolte
No matter how brave Amy may act, darkness hid many terrors she'd rather not encounter. Paul's presence provided a small measure of peace of mind, but not after the sun left the sky. "You know how I feel about being out after dark."
The horses carried them quickly toward the plantation and relative safety. Tomorrow she needed to brace for the inevitable precautions and worry associated with not only childbirth but with trusting others to do the right thing.
"We'll stay the night at the plantation, then deliver the goods to the general before we go back to town." Lucille regarded Amy, worry in her eyes. "You must pack quickly and return to your sister's to aid her."
"Yes, I agree." Amy took a deep breath and held it then released it slowly, silently. "I will speak with Samantha, as well."
Lucille looked at her for a long moment. "If you care about your sister's well-being, ask your friend, not her mother, to attend her."
Amy swallowed hard, imagining terrible possibilities. The most fearsome question centered on what would happen if Evelyn birthed the babe before Amy and Samantha returned.
Chapter 3
McCrady's Tavern seemed smaller than Benjamin remembered. He crossed the threshold, scanning the room as a matter of reflex. The crowd of British officers and sailors occupying the dark, smoky room made it feel different, mostly men eating and drinking amid rumbling conversations punctuated with laughter. Many years had passed since he'd last crossed the stone threshold to his favorite pub. The wood and daub walls reflected the flickering lamplight. Scents of roasting meat and simmering soups mingled with the odors of tobacco smoke and hardworking men. He located a table near the back of the room and sat facing the door, pushing aside several empty tankards. Motioning to the rotund barkeeper to bring him an ale, he waited for Frank to join him for the noon meal.
Benjamin passed the time observing the diversity of nationalities around him. Harbor towns boasted an array of people. Ships brought soldiers, sailors and tradesmen, as well as merchants from other colonies, all to provide goods to the British occupying force and the townspeople. Merchant ships arrived from the Dutch West Indies bringing imported goods and slaves, making fortunes for those who ran the trading companies. Benjamin's own finances felt the wrath of the war.
Inflation continued to cause problems throughout Charles Town and the state of South Carolina. Paper money issued by both the Continental Congress and the state, unbacked by gold or silver, sent the price of items soaring. Meat and grain now cost so much even worm infested corn found its way into homes as sustenance instead of barns. Several artisans were forced out of business, selling their properties and belongings in order to pay their debts. Still, the merchants, such as Captain Sullivan, who engaged in trade with other countries flourished and profited by ignoring the embargoes and continuing their business. He fingered the few coins in his pocket, their light jingle cold comfort.
The stocky barkeeper swiped down the bar, its surface shining in the dim light. The man's thick arms filled crisp white sleeves, the buttoned cuffs straining to remain closed. Years spent indoors among smoke and alcohol left his face pasty. Blinking frequently, he moved around the room, chatting with the sailors, stevedores and soldiers, clearing dirty dishes and wiping down tables as they emptied. The poor man, stuck in this place day in and day out. Benjamin's chest constricted at the thought of working inside every day. His roaming way of life, meeting with a wide range of people and being outside in the elements, suited him far better. The man must know everybody in town, though, since everyone ate at McCrady's at one time or another when they came to Charles Town.
Frank appeared in the door, and Benjamin waved an arm to attract his attention. "Frank!"
His friend saluted him with a return wave, dodging the arms of a man boasting over a fish tale, and made his way across the crowded room.
Benjamin ordered an ale for Frank after he took his seat. "How's the printing business coming?"
"I am adjusting to the fact that everybody believes I am a slow-witted newsman." His eyes danced with suppressed mirth. "Little do they comprehend."
"Yea verily. I know how sly your mind can be." Benjamin grinned, thinking of all the times Frank had played him for a fool.
"By the by, your advertisement is in the next edition." Frank nodded his thanks to the barkeeper when the foaming ale arrived. "I hope you have the kind of response you expect."
"Me, too." Benjamin quaffed his drink, aware Frank covertly confirmed that Benjamin's secret message included in the broadside would tell General Greene about the activities within the town. "If I have enough response, mayhap I won't need to run another advertisement."
"To success." Frank tapped his mug against Benjamin's. "For everyone."
"Speaking of success, I have secured the item as we discussed." Benjamin glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one overheard their conversation.
"Excellent." Frank leaned back in his chair, appearing nonchalant even though his eyes surveyed the room. His gaze trained on Benjamin again as he swallowed a gulp of ale.
Benjamin resisted the urge to pat his inside pocket to verify the tiny box rested there. He'd contemplated secreting it in various potential places, but ultimately determined that his defensive skills would best ensure its safety. "No one will be able to harm it now."
"Perfect. You'd obviously know if anyone tried."
Benjamin traced a finger along the curved handle of the tankard. "As long as I'm not captured, which is unlikely, then yes, it's safe."
"Then let's have our supper." He waved for the barkeeper, who acknowledged his summons with a nod.
"You and food." Benjamin swatted him on the back. "Always hungry, eh?"
After the barkeeper took their orders, they settled back to wait for their meals. No words were necessary. Their friendship went deeper than words to an intuitive awareness of the other. The commotion around them slowly quieted as men returned to their business, the few women to their homes.
"Do you think Captain Sullivan was correct about the gem?" That little piece of rock apparently attracted trouble. He hadn't believed Captain Sullivan when he told him at the Allhallows Eve dinner about the trials and tribulations others who possessed it had endured. Beatings. Robberies. Fires. Surely, mere rumors or myths designed to discourage anyone from desiring to own it.
"Truth be told, it's very possible." Frank shifted in his seat. "I've heard tell of other such tokens having mystical powers."
Truth could be subjective. Benjamin's thoughts strayed to Amy. He loved her, pure and simple. It had surprised him to discover that fact. Wishing she had been more open to his courting of her, he thumped one hand on the table. She hadn't said no in so many words, but her captivating eyes told him as much. No matter. She would come around once they spent more time together. Time in which he would show her the depth of his feelings. Indeed he worried about her and her mother, alone out in the countryside on some fool errand. He prayed they were not engaged in smuggling. Amy's story about visiting her sister sounded plausible, but then all her stories rang of truth, even when fantasy. Why couldn't she stick to the facts, the truth of events? Why the fascination with telling lies as entertainment? One day her stories would land her in deep trouble.
The door swung open, silhouetting a woman's comely figure against the overcast sky beyond. Although not his love with her trim, buxom shape, he'd know that figure anywhere. He nudged Frank. "You have company."
Frank followed his gaze and a grin blossomed on his face. Standing, he crossed the room, trailing after a group of husky sailors making their way to the exit, and joined Emily. Her black cloak peeked open as she approached, revealing a dark gray dress beneath. She wore her hair pulled up under a matching gray bonnet, her eyes sparkling with affection for Frank. His friend had found a smart and beautiful lady to share his life with, but it wouldn't be long before Benjamin called Amy his fiancée. He liked the sound of that. His fiancée. Better yet would be the day he could officially claim her as his wife.
Frank led Emily to the table and pulled a heavy wooden chair out for her, and she settled onto her seat. Benjamin couldn't resist teasing his friend.
"It's about time you became a gentleman." Benjamin sat back and gawked at his dearest friend, anticipating his reaction.
"She brings out the best in me." Frank kissed her quickly on the cheek, raising a blush in the porcelain skin.
"Frank, please. You're embarrassing me." Emily folded her hands in her lap. "Have you eaten? I'm famished."
"Not yet. Would you care for something?" Frank waited to hear her request, then walked to the bar, leaving Benjamin to entertain Emily.
"I see your father has relented on his restrictions."
"Yes, after Frank's encounter the other morning, Father decided the most significant threat to my safety had been removed." She grinned and shook her head. "I cannot convey how free I feel."
"Still, do not venture out after dark as Frank has intimated you've been doing. Such a risk is too much."
She tilted her head and studied him. "Frank speaks of things he shouldn't."
"He worries for your welfare." Benjamin sipped his ale and then placed the tankard onto the thick table with a thump. "As he should."
When she abruptly changed the subject, Benjamin sat back to let her words flow over him. Emily did not have the same energy that emanated from Amy, but she was intelligent and a good listener. He engaged in some everyday talk about the weather and her father, but all the while he thought about how he would persuade Amy to marry him. He'd ask her by moonlight, when her beauty truly flowered. The vision of her kissing him good-bye three years prior brought a wave of anticipation through him. The soft white light had illuminated her pearly skin, the perfect contrast to her kissable mouth.
He nodded and smiled in the right places in the conversation, but his thoughts roamed the countryside with the only woman he'd ever loved. Could ever love.
Frank returned carrying the trenchers of food, juggling them until they all laughed with him.
"Frank, darling, set those down before you drop them." Emily reached for one of the plates, peering at the repast with interest.
Frank placed the other two steaming plates on the table and resumed his seat. Without a word he took a bite of the baked fish and potatoes that drew people to McCrady's.
Benjamin shook his head at Emily. "Such manners. Are you sure you wish to be tied to him for the rest of your life?"
When she looked at Benjamin, her smile wavered, then held steady. Hmm. She harbored some doubt. About Frank or something else?
"How could I not want to be with him always? He's smart, handsome, and runs his own business."
"Ah, he's a good catch then? Like this fish." Benjamin took a bite and chewed slowly. Did Amy find him intelligent? Compared to Frank, Benjamin couldn't compete. But he'd had his share of women before he fell in love with Amy's dark beauty and sharp wit, so surely she found him passable in the handsome category.
"You can't deny that a sufficient livelihood is an important aspect of marriage." Mischief shone in her eyes as she glanced at Frank, who sat staring at her, uncertain, guarded.
"What about love, Miss Emily?" Benjamin asked. "Do you love the simple printer?"
She paused, studying Frank's shuttered expression. She drew a breath and released it. "With all my heart."
Frank let out his held breath in a rush. "Thank God."
"You doubted me?" Emily laid a hand on Frank's, squeezing lightly. "You need not fear, my love."
"You say that now." He turned his palm up to hold her hand. "I fear nothing about you, my darling." He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her flesh.
"If you two keep this up, you'll need to hire a room, and then the tongues will wag." Benjamin banged his mug on the wood table to rouse their attention from staring into each other's eyes.
"I did not come here to be ridiculed or examined." Emily withdrew her hand and feigned a chastising glare, but the laughter in her eyes betrayed her true feelings.
"So, my sweet, why did you venture to McCrady's today?" Frank picked up his fork, stirred his chicken and dumplings, his contentment dissolving into pursed lips. He peered at Emily. "I thought we agreed that even though your father eased the restrictions, you would not venture about town without me."
"But see, I am with you, darling." Emily cut into her crispy filet, her attention on her meal and not her fiancé. "Besides, I have something for you, but I can give it to you later if you'd prefer."
The cheerful atmosphere between them subtly charged with tension. Frank became wary, his eyes more alert in such a delicate shift that if Benjamin hadn't known what to look for, it would have gone unnoticed. They were up to something, for certain. Linked to Emily's arrival alone, she obviously engaged in an activity she shouldn't.
Discovering secrets encompassed his life right now, but soon, when the damned war ended, truth would be his priority again. Spying meant lying to protect those he worked for and those he cared about, like Amy. Yet the idea of lying did not sit well with him. He considered spying a necessary evil rather than a way of life. Soon the day would arrive when he could revert to working as an honest merchant.
Emily moved her purse but bumped her tankard so that it knocked to one side, spilling cider and the contents of the purse across the table.
"Oh no!" She scrambled to gather her hair comb, coin purse, and a folded paper before they landed in the liquid. She shot a worried look at Frank. "I'm sorry!"
Benjamin stood, shoving back his chair before the cider dripped off the table onto his breeches. He tossed his cloth napkin within Frank's reach.
"Do not fret. It happens." Frank helped her clean up the mess, snatching the paper and tucking it into his coat pocket before laying his and Benjamin's napkins across the expanding pool of cider.
At first Benjamin assumed Emily had given Frank a love note. The image of the paper appeared in his mind. Too thick for a simple note, Benjamin calculated as Frank sopped up the mess. Something longer, perhaps a letter. That said what? To whom? Most intriguingly, why hide it from view? Benjamin would uncover the facts later, but first they had to save their meals.
"I'll get you a fresh drink." Benjamin strode toward the bar with the tankard. Wending his way through the mostly empty tavern, he pondered the mystery and Emily's consternation over the incident. The barkeeper, aware of the accident, met him halfway carrying a tankard and some clean towels. Benjamin placed his mug on the counter and then trailed the barkeeper back to the table, examining the situation as he approached.
"Here you go, Miss." The barkeeper swabbed the table with a towel and then set the tankard in front of Emily.
"Thank you, sir." Emily looked up at the friendly voice. "I'm sorry to make such a mess."
"My pleasure, Miss." He touched his glistening forehead with his free hand and winked at her. "It provided a great excuse to talk to a pretty lady."
"In the event, sir, she's spoken for." Frank sidled close to Emily and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Emily laid long fingers over Frank's and smiled up at him. "Now don't be jealous; he's just being polite."
The barkeeper whistled his way back to the bar. Frank stared after the man, his hand still lightly resting on Emily's shoulder. Benjamin had never seen him be so possessive of anyone. Frank honestly loved her.
"Frank, eat your lunch." Benjamin indicated with his head the seat beside him. "You'll feel better."
Frank looked at him askance. "Now who's all about food?" He sank back onto his chair. "I didn't want him thinking my fiancée is unattached."
Benjamin held his tongue. He'd talk later with Frank, find out what the note meant. In the meantime Amy's earlier aloofness in the face of his stated interest intrigued him, hinting that she missed him more than she cared to admit to herself and, least of all, him. Yes, he definitely had a challenge ahead as he tried to work his way past her lovely defenses. Resisting smiling at the challenge ahead, he returned Frank's gaze. "Let's eat and th
en go pay a visit to Emily's father. I hear he received a new shipment of goods that might interest us."
Chapter 4
Benjamin strolled beside Frank down East Bay Street, past the row of three-story buildings fronting on the Cooper River that served as both businesses on the first floor and residences on the upper floors. Many of the buildings stood charred and vacant after the devastating fire four years previous which damaged many of the structures. Between the flames and the fighting, much rebuilding had been necessary, but most townspeople lacked funds to afford the necessary materials. For the remaining merchants, these buildings provided both home and office. Captain Sullivan, since he had a separate home in town, had graciously permitted Benjamin to lodge above the import shop, guaranteeing no British would inquire too deeply into his political stance.
The street bustled with activity at this time of day, men going to and from the Exchange, slaves scurrying to their next tasks, and now and again a carriage setting up a dust cloud as it passed. Finally the two men reached the whitewashed brick front with its dark green shutters. Each floor of the simple yet elegant building featured three windows, except for the middle floor which boasted a door leading onto a balcony in the center of the wall. Benjamin pushed open the red wooden door on the first floor and ushered Frank inside.
Captain Sullivan's unimposing import shop smelled of dust and pipe smoke. Benjamin viewed the newly arrived items on a small table before him with awe. Captain Sullivan had managed to locate several wonderful additions for the natural museum. The captain's connections overseas extended beyond his own, but he never imagined they included tribal leaders in Africa as well as spiritual leaders in China. He held up a chief's mask, admiring the carving and painted features, with black hair attached around the edge to resemble a man's skull. Slashes of red and yellow paint marked it as a warrior mask. He laid it down in the paper-lined box. "This is a perfect specimen."
"Amazing detail and very artistic." Captain Sullivan replaced the lid on the box. "And I'm glad to not have to face it in battle. But I am thrilled the good chief parted with it for our benefit."