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Authors: DiAnn Mills

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BOOK: Love’s Betrayal
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Henry exhaled heavily into the chilly air. “I am not surprised, knowing your resolve in such matters. Did ye not consider the danger?”

“Not exactly. It exhilarated me. Of course, my illegal activities are why Papa moved us to Chesterfield.”

“Wise man.”
I wonder if I can handle the trouble involved in loving and marrying ye, Delight Butler.

“As I was saying, that used to be my attitude. When you came, I saw the cruelty of war from a different perspective. I truly wanted to hate you, but I couldn't. As a result I was constantly angry. At times, I actually considered that there were good, Christian men in the British flanks, too. Now I realize you could have chosen to keep your views about the patriots to yourself, and our friendship might never have taken place.” She cast him a sideways glance. “For selfish reasons, I am glad you are now a man of true liberty.”

“I am delighted, too, Miss Delight.”

She smiled before a wistful look passed over her face. “Papa's leaving awakened me to the atrocities involved in this struggle.” She gazed into his face, her large eyes reflecting sadness. “Finding James in such a mangled, bloody condition did not help either. Of course, you have seen more injured and fatally wounded men than you care to remember.”

“True, and I will see it again.”

She shuddered, and he did not think her reaction was due to the cold, and began again. “Forgive me, you were talking, and I should have been listening instead of voicing my own thoughts.”

“Nonsense, I value your words. Every comment helps me to know ye better. In addition, what I have to say involves your own thoughts and sentiments.”

“Do continue, Henry. I won't interrupt.”

Suddenly, all his carefully prepared statements escaped his mind. He didn't know why he'd initiated the conversation or what he planned to say. Stammering and feeling ridiculous, Henry chose to abandon the subject and try again another time—once he remembered what he wanted to tell her about his love and the future. Humiliation warmed him to the bone, and foolishness cast an accusing finger in his face.

An hour later he recalled the purpose of his initial discussion—the future—but courage failed him. He couldn't tell Delight he loved her or ask her to wait for him until the war ended. In all honesty, he wanted to marry her before he enlisted.

Five days passed, five weary days that extended into the night. Delight endured the uncomfortable wagon and persisted through each hour with less and less sleep. Henry often refused her offers to drive, as well as Charity's. And he always waited until complete darkness before stopping for the evening.

The wagon held a heavy load, and despite the urgency, the animals required rest. Often Delight and Charity strolled alongside it, but in those rare moments when Henry allowed them to drive, he slept. His limp had all but disappeared, yet Delight noted the way his leg stiffened after long periods in the wagon. He must be exhausted, but he never complained.

Henry traversed away from settlements. No point in arousing suspicion about the barrels or having thieves steal their corn. Sleeping under the wagon on cold, hard ground bruised her bones and threatened her disposition. Delight noted Charity grumbled not once, a rarity for her sister and an obvious improvement in her temperament. But of course, Delight herself had found patience in dealing with others of late. Perhaps both she and her sister were showing the signs of reaching maturity.

The past few days, Delight had wakened with a pounding headache that plagued her until nightfall. Stubbornly she refused to tell Charity or Henry, knowing they could do nothing about the growing pain. Her throat felt as though someone had sliced it raw. This was not the time to be ill, so she prayed.

Delight wondered time and time again what Henry had planned to say on the first day of their journey, but she hesitated to inquire. Deep down she understood his sincere feelings for her as readily as she knew her own. Something always held her back from initiating a conversation on the subject. Cowardice disgusted her, so she elected to term her reluctance to another cause, but what? She felt the pangs of fear every time she gazed into his blue eyes.

Several days out on their journey, the weather turned nippy. One morning they woke to a dusting of snow coating their blankets. Although it quickly melted, the threat of a heavy falling needled at her mind. Along with her other afflictions, she had noticed a slight cough. Delight concentrated on swallowing the annoyance so as not to alarm Henry or Charity.

By avoiding the more heavily traveled roads, they saw few people except during those occasions when they needed to gather directions. The three conversed freely as their journey lengthened. The topics covered everything from Henry's boyhood memories, his friend's recollections of London, Bible passages, and a mound of stories that Delight and Charity told of their childhood.

Delight loved Henry's teasing. His wit and charm increased her feelings for him. Talking with him reminded her of Papa, as though he sat in their midst instead of marching off to war. Many of Henry's admirable traits were the same characteristics she valued for a husband. Of course, considering him in the future sounded easier than approaching the subject at the present.

“Henry, do you sincerely intend to live in Chesterfield after the war?” Delight said one late afternoon as the sun made its fiery descent and she rode in the wagon bed. “I know you have stated as such, but this country is vast.”

“I believe so, lass. In me heart, I want to settle down with a family and resume me weaving. Remember, it's why I purposed to come to this fair country.”

She nodded. “I remember you telling me that very thing.”

“Where do you plan to obtain this family?” Charity said from the bench beside him.

Sister, do not force his reply. I'm not ready for this discussion—at least not now and certainly not in your presence.

Henry chuckled, a trait she had learned to recognize when he hesitated speaking about an uncomfortable issue. “It is all in God's providence. I believe I can provide for a family with my trade, but I do require a wife.”

“And what are your requirements for a suitable spouse?” Charity continued.

Delight jabbed her finger into her sister's right side, but Charity ignored the touch.

“Are ye applying?” Henry's voice rang with merriment.

“Nay, but I thought I could recommend someone if I knew what you deemed important.”

Henry urged the horses down the road. Soon they would need to stop for the night, and all of them wanted as many miles behind them as they could obtain. “A godly woman is essential. A woman with a sharp mind and who has convictions of her own appeals to me. Friendship is vital, and with that comes respect and admiration for each other.”

“And what of beauty?”

Henry's laughter rang over the treetops. “Oh Charity, I am not a comely man, so how can I ask God for loveliness in a wife? Although the idea does have merit.”

“Henry, I think you are most dashing. Don't you, Delight?”

Charity, if we were at home, you and I would toss words like puppies tugging at a bone. In fact, I would tease you unmercifully in front of James until you begged for release.

“Don't you think Henry is handsome?” her sister repeated.

Delight fumed. Later she'd tell Charity to tend to her own matchmaking. “He is pleasing to look at, if one appreciates red hair.”

“His hair is what distinguishes him from other men.”

“It reminds me of a rooster's comb.” Delight uttered the words before considering their content.

“Sister, dare you be unkind to our Henry?” Charity sounded appalled.

Properly chagrined, Delight sought to remedy the situation. “I didn't mean to be derogatory. The color is simply unusual.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Ladies, I'd welcome it if ye could talk about matters other than me appearance.”

“Certainly.” Charity's honeyed words irked Delight. She glanced back at Delight and offered a sweet smile before turning her attention to the road. “Now, what were we discussing? Oh, now I remember, what Henry prefers in a wife.”

“I completed my thoughts,” he quickly said.

“Wonderful. Commendable, too. I have another challenge. This time it is Delight's turn.”

Oh no!

“What do you desire in a husband?” Charity said.

“Must we persist in this topic?” Delight envisioned her sister's neck as one of Mama's chickens in line for dinner.

“Aye. You are next, then I will give my desires.”

Delight attempted to remember the items Henry had listed so she would not repeat them. If she did, she had no doubt that Charity would make pointed comments about the similarities. “Henry must surely be bored with this game.”

“Nay, lass. I am finding this portion enjoyable.”

Trapped, she must endure her sister's folly. “A man who honors God above all things.”

Silence.

“Nothing else, Delight?”

“Unselfish, loving, intelligent, capable of courage and strength.”

Charity sighed. “Forgive me for my observation, but your description sounds like Henry.”

You will be at my mercy this night,
Delight promised her sister silently, then quickly added, “I believe I spoke in generalities. All Christian women want those qualities in a husband. This is the essence of a true gentleman.”

“You are most insightful. And I do believe you are quite intelligent, sister, with an apt mind and the qualities of a true friend. I only wish I had your beauty.”

Red-faced, Delight chose not to respond. She'd lost in Charity's little amusement. Thankfully, dusk had replaced the light, for she could not look into Henry's face without sinking into a puddle of humiliation.

A few moments later she gathered her courage. “Charity, this is not the end of this matter.”

“I certainly hope not. Such a pity for me to marry before you.” Charity laughed until Henry joined in. At first Delight scrambled for the right words to express her anger, then she, too, broke into a fit of laughter. “Charity, I will get even. Then we will see who shares the mirth.”

“I don't doubt your merciless spirit for an instant.” Her sister giggled. “But it was such fun.”

“Henry, are you going to allow this infraction into your private affairs without revenge?” Delight desperately attempted to disguise the smile on her face.

“Your sister is a worthy opponent. I am afraid King George's army has met their match. As for me, I am going to get some rest before morning arrives.”

“I, too, shall sleep, but my mind will be spinning ways to defend my honor,” Delight said.
Sweet Charity, this deed will be avenged one day. If not by me, surely one of our sisters will catch you unaware.

Chapter 17

A
nother day passed, and Henry still laughed over Charity's blatant questioning about what he looked for in a wife and what Delight sought in a husband. Now, as he hitched the team to the wagon with the cold whipping around his neck, he resolved to speak to his beloved before the sun set that day. By nightfall, he would know if he had a future wife.

A twig snap behind him. The skin on the back of his neck tingled. The sound couldn't be from the women. They had ventured in the opposite direction, and he would have heard their arrival. His gaze flew to his musket, lying across the wagon seat.

“Don't be considering a step near that gun,” a male voice said. “Just be standing there nice and quiet and don't be turning around.”

An Irishman. “What can I do for ye?” Henry said, forcing kindness into his words.

“Aye, answer a few questions, like what are ye doing with this wagon?”

Is this one of the men who attacked James?
“I am transporting corn.”

“Is it your own wagon?”

“It belongs to a friend.” James had said that one of the men who attacked him had a
T
branded into the fleshy portion of his thumb.
I dare not anger this man for fear of endangering Delight and Charity.

“Where is your friend?”

“He is nearly a week's ride from here. Why do ye ask?”

The musket barrel rested against his lower back. “I'm asking the questions. Methinks this wagon is stolen. What do ye have to say about that?”

Henry wished he knew to which side of the war the man held his allegiance. “As soon as I deliver the corn, I am returning his wagon.”

“Your name?”

“Henry O'Neill.”

“Do ye mind if I examine the contents of those barrels?”

“Corn is corn, sir, but ye may look. The last one on the left is open.”

“I well know!” the man said. “Tell me what happened to the driver of this wagon before I send a musket ball into your back and spill your blood over this hard ground.”

Henry needed to get the advantage of this situation before Delight and Charity returned. “I am not at liberty to say.”

BOOK: Love’s Betrayal
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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