Love’s Betrayal (12 page)

The sound of men's voices alerted her. She quickly glanced at what they'd been doing and deemed it impossible to hide their workings.

It cannot be loyalists or British soldiers!

“I believe it's Elijah's voice I hear, but I cannot distinguish the other man.” Mama released a ragged breath. Her face had turned a ghastly shade of white. “We should have devised a way to conceal what we have been doing.”

Aunt Anne nodded, and she trembled. Delight's aunt seldom raised her voice or spoke openly in a crowd. Delight searched for something soothing to say, but with her ears strained to listen and a myriad of fears sweeping through her mind, she could only place an arm around Aunt Anne's thin shoulders. Suddenly Delight remembered the night she'd delivered information to Cavin Sullivan when the British soldiers pounded on the door of his tavern. She'd had nightmares for weeks following that frightful evening. Glancing about, she saw this fear now filled Mama and Aunt Anne.

“Elizabeth!” Papa called out.

Unaware of holding her breath, Delight let out a sigh of relief.
Thank Thee, merciful Father.

“We are back here,” Mama called.

Delight saw Papa move alongside the house with Henry behind him. He maneuvered fairly well without his crutch, his limp gradually becoming less profound. Then she saw him: James Daniels. Her knees grew weak, and she felt her face grow warm. The man indeed struck a fine pose.

“My dear Elizabeth.” Papa waved at the fire heating the kettle full of metal and the other signs of what they were doing. “In the future, please use some discretion. We could have been the British.” He shook his head, then offered her a light kiss to her cheek.

“The thought occurred to us too late,” Mama replied. “Forgive me for alarming you.”

Silent concern passed from Papa to Mama. He turned to greet Aunt Anne. “Good afternoon. You three have done well this day.” He lifted Delight's chin and for a terrifying moment, she thought he might comment on her reddened face. “You above all should have used caution.”

Why me?
Sometimes Papa confused her.

“Elizabeth, I would like for you to meet a fine man here, James Daniels.”

Mama curtsied and offered a welcome.

“Thank you, ma'am. Your daughters prepared an admirable noonday meal, and I am beholden to their kindness.”

Was it her imagination, or did he cast a sideways glance at her? If anyone could paint the portrait of the most handsome man in America, surely James would be the subject.

“I'll be certain to tell them so.” Mama looked obviously pleased. Had she been smitten by James's charms as well?

“This is my sister-in-law, Anne Butler.”

Aunt Anne appeared to be calmer than Mama, but shy nevertheless. She curtsied and offered a faint smile.

“And this little one is my son,” Papa continued, “another Elijah.”

James peered into the cradle at the sleeping baby. “A fine young man, sir.”

“And do you remember my daughter, Delight?” Papa grinned broadly, and again she felt her color mount.

“I remember the lovely woman I met two weeks ago, but I did not know her name. It is indeed a pleasure to see you again, Miss Butler.”

She curtsied, feeling extremely awkward. “Thank you, sir.” Sensing someone staring at her, she stole a look at Henry. He did not look pleased.
We are simply friends. He should be happy for me.
But the voice in her heart revealed Henry's true feelings.

“James must be leaving soon, but I wanted him to meet you.” Papa wrapped his arm around Mama's waist and laughed. “Thankfully, all of my daughters resemble their beautiful mother.”

“Indeed they do,” James said. “How fortunate for them.”

Papa and James shared a hearty laugh, but Delight cringed and Henry gave a tight smile. She caught James's gaze, hoping she did not faint away with him before her.

“It has been an honor spending these hours with you and your family,” James said, “but I must be getting along. I have a lengthy ride ahead of me and business to attend.”

“Do come back,” Mama invited.

“I shall, and I will look forward to visiting with all of you soon.” He made pleasantries to Aunt Anne and then to Delight. “Seeing you again has been most delightful.” He suddenly reddened, no doubt embarrassed at his choice of words, given her name.

She nodded and bid him good day.

“Are you ready, Henry?” Papa said. “Can you manage another walk?”

“I believe I'll stay and help the ladies finish their work.” Henry leaned against an oak tree. “I would like to see this completed and the evidence removed.”

“Excellent idea.”

Henry shook James's hand. “Thank you for the lively conversation. I look forward to many more.”

Henry and James are friends?

James grasped his shoulder. “You are a fine fellow. I enjoyed your story, especially the ending. I'm glad you are on our side.”

The guest walked away with Papa, then whirled around to Henry. “Do not forget what I warned you about. Ten to twelve dollars is a great deal of money.”

James is a pleasing man to look upon, but I don't know his nature. Could he possess Henry's wit and compassion?
Delight wrestled with her thoughts. She had been drawn to James since their first meeting two weeks earlier, or was she drawn to his handsome appearance and the adventurous and dangerous life he led for the patriots? Surely all the women who were blessed by his presence felt the lure of his charm.

But what happens when the glow of adoration wears thin? She had no answers, for Henry held so many admirable traits that she found it difficult not to compare the two.

Delight wanted to understand what James had referred to in his closing words with Henry. Impatience wrapped its cloak around her while James and Papa slowly ambled toward the road. A leaf floating from the highest branches of a tree could not have moved more slowly. Finally they moved far enough away so that they could not overhear her question.

“What did James mean?” She picked up several pieces of fabric to show Henry how to form a cartridge. No point in exhibiting any more concern than she already felt.

Henry shrugged. “Nothing of importance.”

She knew by the way he avoided her that a matter of great importance plagued him. “Henry!”

“Delight,” Mama scolded, “remember your manners.”

“But he is concealing information from me.” Irritation settled on her shoulders like a heavy yoke.

Mama cleared her throat. “In defense of him, I believe you are interfering with his private affairs.”

Stunned, Delight could only stare at her mother. She had been disrespectful. Taking in a deep breath, she forced herself to face Henry. “I … apologize.”

Instead of seeing condemnation in his blue eyes, she saw compassion and the clear distinction of something else. She shivered, captured by the tenderness in his gaze.

“I am not offended,” he said. “I will tell ye what James referred to, and we can talk further about it on our walk home.”

She nodded and blinked back an inkling of tears, of which she knew not the origin—nor was she certain she wanted to know.

“General Burgoyne is offering ten to twelve dollars for each British soldier brought in. Desertion has become a significant problem, and the general seeks to increase his troops.”

Delight gasped, and her hand instinctively covered her mouth. “But they placed you here in Chesterfield until you healed.”

Henry patted his leg. “This is healing much faster than I originally imagined. Very shortly, I will be able to do all the things I did before. The problem is …” His voice trailed off, and he picked up a few musket balls, toying with them as if they belonged to a child. He dropped one of the balls into the cloth form and picked up the gunpowder. “Of course ye already know my convictions on that matter. I need to enlist in the Continental army before the British lay claim to me.”

“But—”

Henry raised his hand in protest. “We will continue this discussion later.”

At times she wondered if Henry could be more stubborn than she. And she truthfully didn't mind when he took the upper hand—not of late, in any event.

Papa prepared to leave for the war on October 24, 1777, seven days after Burgoyne surrendered to Gates at Saratoga. Delight's father was determined to serve under the general who had forced the British to drop their arms. They heard the news from James Daniels, who happened to pass by Chesterfield late one evening.

His handsome face and proud carriage still took Delight's breath away. Sitting in front of the fireplace, he struck an overwhelming pose with the light from the rising flames framing his head. When she turned so he wouldn't see her face, she caught a glimpse of Charity, whose cheeks blushed brighter than a shiny apple.
My sister is taken with James, too?
She stole a glance at James. For a moment she thought he held Charity's gaze in his sights.
How dare you, Charity, turn this man's head when I had not decided whether to set my cap for him?
Frustrated, she attempted to listen to Papa's and James's conversation.

“I'd like to think we are going to end this war soon,” James said. “The redcoats got a taste of real fighting in Saratoga and now know what it feels like to surrender.”

Papa laughed heartily. “I might not get to fire Brown Bess before all of Britain leaves American soil.”

I hope so, Papa, for then none of us would have cause to worry.

James left soon after Mama insisted he eat a heaping plate of ham and beans. As usual, he thanked Mama and Papa for their hospitality. He neither spoke to Delight nor looked her way, which angered her immensely. But did she see something pass between James and Charity?

The day before Papa left for the war, he drew each family member aside to tell of his love and to insure encouragement for the days ahead. His visiting took most of the day and into the evening.

After rocking little Elijah, he lifted his gaze to Delight. “We have not yet spoken. I'd like to take a walk.” He settled the baby into Mama's arms and kissed the top of his forehead. Mama whisked away a tear, and Delight pretended she did not see.

Silently they moved into the evening and ambled toward the road winding from the town.

“Delight, I am leaving a tremendous responsibility for you as the oldest. You've always excelled in taking care of the younger ones and assisting your mother, but I am afraid this will be the hardest time of all.”

“God will help me.”
I will not cry. I'll be stalwart.

“Allow Henry to share the burden while he is still here.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“He is a good man, daughter.”

“Yes, Papa.” Hadn't they discussed Henry's merits enough?

“Delight, is your heart torn between Henry and James?”

“I haven't given the matter enough consideration to be able to answer your question.”

“Let me suggest you speak with God about the matter. I have a preference for you, but I would rather you hear it from Him.”

“I'll devote more time to prayer and reading the scripture,” she said. “Perhaps it is neither man.”

Papa chuckled, his voice musical with the sounds of the evening insects. “Whoever steals your heart must first give his own.”

“Yes, Papa.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, longing to listen to his words until the sun rose.

A few moments later, he cleared his throat and slowed his pace. “Another matter needs to be remedied.”

Her pulse quickened. “And what is that?”

“I want you to promise that you will not endeavor upon anything foolish or dangerous during my absence.”

Her heart pounded furiously. “What do you mean, Papa?”

He shook his head and released a deep sigh. “I know about your activities in Boston—the things you did for the patriots.”

She felt her strength drain away. “How … how long were you privy?”