The Courier of Caswell Hall (38 page)

“The northern part of Virginia. My father was a planter, and so is my uncle.”

Lord Caswell lifted his goblet. “You learned well from them.”

He thought of the hours his father and then Uncle George had spent with him, teaching him all there was to know about how to plant and harvest and sell what he’d grown. “My uncle may not agree about how much I have learned, but he would thank you for the compliment.”

“I saw your cloak by the door,” Lady Caswell said. “Where did you purchase your lovely scarf?”

Nathan set down his goblet, not certain how to answer. He had worn Grayson’s scarf whenever the weather was cool—he hadn’t considered the possibility of someone recognizing it. Why hadn’t he left it with the horse outside? “From a friend.”

She tilted her head. “It looks very familiar to me.”

Prudence set a platter of ham in the middle of the table and then another platter of beans.

Lord Caswell lifted a slice of meat and served it to Nathan. “Where is your family?”

“My father has passed on, but my mother is living with my aunt.”

“And your siblings?” Lady Caswell asked.

“I had ten brothers and sisters, but only five are still living.”

“It is a tragedy to lose so many children,” she replied, and he heard the empathy in her voice. She seemed to be well-acquainted with the sorrow.

He ate a bite of ham before he ventured, “How many children do you have?”

“Three. But they have all left us.”

“I see.” He took another bite. “Where have they gone?”

Lord Caswell glanced at his wife. “We do not know.”

Nathan looked at Prudence again, but it seemed she was forcing herself to ignore him.

“The weather is changing again,” Lord Caswell said.

“Aye.” He could feel the chill in the air as they’d worked.

“Can you help again in the morning?”

Nathan shook his head. “I am afraid I must return.”

Lord Caswell sighed. “It is not safe for you to travel at night.”

“I—”

“You must at least sleep in our servants’ quarters. It is empty these days.”

Nathan wanted to laugh at the irony. If only Lydia were here to share in the amusement. “That is kind of you, but I must leave this evening.”

He hoped Seth was preparing to leave for York, but he must make certain.

Lord Caswell spied the lowering sun outside. “I have one more favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“You must understand, I cannot leave the plantation until I have harvested all I can.”

Nathan nodded his head in understanding. If the man didn’t harvest now, he might lose everything he and his father had built for their family.

“Could you search for my daughters in Williamsburg?”

This time Prudence met his eye, and he saw her nod. “I would be glad to, sir.”

There was no time for Lydia to waste, and yet she proceeded cautiously as she walked through the remaining forest. If she was detained or her things confiscated, all would be lost. Yet the fate of the general’s life was in her hands. If they killed General Washington, she feared the British would take Virginia for good.

When she reached town, soldiers wearing blue and gray seemed to be guarding every corner. After spending hours wandering in the woods, trying to avoid any other contact with British guards, relief washed over her. Perhaps it had been impossible for the captain to bribe the Wythes’ slave, with so many Patriots occupying the city.

After she delivered her message, she would search for Hannah.

Night had begun to fall when she stepped onto the Pendells’ porch. She had never visited the woman before without her mother.

Mrs. Pendell answered her knock, and her eyes widened with surprise.

“Have you come for your mother?” Mrs. Pendell asked loudly enough for any passersby to hear.

Lydia reached into the valise for her sampler of the river. “I have brought a gift for you.”

Mrs. Pendell took the sampler and then turned it over, examining the white cloth that sealed the letter inside. She lowered her voice. “That is most ingenious of you.”

“The contents are urgent.” She stepped back. “If Mother knew I was here, she would send her love.”

“And I would return it. No matter what happens, I will always consider your mother a friend.”

Lydia left quickly, but when she reached the end of the street, she realized she had no idea where to look for her sister. Hannah would follow Major Reed wherever he traveled, but how was she supposed to find him among a sea of soldiers?

She approached a soldier in a blue uniform. “I am searching for my sister. I fear she is with the British camp followers.”

The soldier hiked up his musket. “I regret to hear it.”

“Do you know where the followers are?”

He shrugged. “She’s probably near the town of York.”

More than ten miles from here
.

“I thank you.”

“It would not be safe for you to travel alone,” the man said.

She walked a few more steps down Duke of Gloucester, the lanterns over the tavern doors lighting her way. Then she leaned against a hitching post. Where was she to stay for the night?

The stench of a nearby tannery choked her, the energy that had driven her to Williamsburg draining away. She could risk her life to walk to York tonight, but even if she made it in the darkness, was there any hope of finding her sister? Or should she go home and tell Father that Hannah was near York? Perhaps he would search for her now.

She stepped away from the post. It was either walk east or back west.

She shivered at the thought of meeting the British guards in the darkness. Then her stomach rumbled. All she had left to eat in her valise was a small chunk of cheese. Mother had given her a little money as well. She should buy something to eat before she left Williamsburg.

“Lydia!” She turned to see Mrs. Pendell running down the street, the edge of her petticoat balled in her hand.

Lydia glanced around her nervously. Their friendship wasn’t a secret, but they didn’t want to make a spectacle of themselves, either.

Mrs. Pendell reached for her arm. “Please, come back to my home.”

She shook her head. “I must be going.”

Mrs. Pendell whispered, “I cannot deliver this message myself. He will have questions.”

Wagon wheels groaned behind them. “Your contact?”

“No, the general. He will want to know details.”

“I do not have more details.”

A cart passed, and the horses splashed mud toward them. Mrs. Pendell took her arm, guiding her away from the street into the shadows of an alley. “Are you afraid to speak with General Washington?”

“It matters not what I fear. My family has other pressing needs.”

“There is little more pressing than this,” Mrs. Pendell said.

Lydia debated whether to tell the woman about her sister, but Mother would be mortified if anyone, including Mrs. Pendell, discovered that Hannah had run away with a married officer.

“The British will win or lose Virginia in the coming weeks, and then our work will be finished,” Mrs. Pendell said.

“But what if they lose?” she asked. “No one but you and Nathan know about my work.”

“Then you must choose, Lydia. Truly choose.”

She had already chosen what she believed. Like Seth and Nathan and Sarah. And her brother.

“They will find out about you as well,” Lydia said.

“I am prepared for it.”

Lydia pressed her palms together. Perhaps after she gave him the information, the general would help her travel to York. “If he wants to see me, I will talk to him.”

“Come along,” Mrs. Pendell said. “We will go there now.”

Nathan handed the reins of his horse to the stableman and hurried to the Wythe home. He had thought a British guard might detain him in the forest for questioning, but none did. If all the British soldiers were marching toward York now, they mustn’t delay any longer.

One of the servants took his cloak and shaving kit, and he changed quickly in his room before joining his uncle and the other men in their office. The men had spread two maps across the table and were in heated discussion about how to attack the soldiers at York. He wasn’t sure where to find Lydia and her sister, but he
would begin his search once General Washington dismissed them for the night.

The general glanced at him. “Captain Hammond has returned.”

Nathan nodded. “He stayed to bury his sister.”

“’Tis a terrible loss for all of us.”

Someone knocked on the door.

The general returned his focus to the map. “We cannot be interrupted,” he barked.

Mrs. Wythe inched open the door. “Mrs. Pendell is still waiting to see you.”

Nathan looked up at their hostess. “How long has she been waiting?”

“For nearly two hours. She says it is urgent that she see the general tonight.”

“Then we must see her.” Nathan tapped the map. “She has been a most important contact for us.”

General Washington turned back to Mrs. Wythe. “Please tell her she must be quick with her words.”

Mrs. Wythe nodded. “Of course.”

Before she left the room, Mr. Wythe stopped her. “Would you also send a servant up with coffee for our guests?”

Mrs. Wythe nodded again before she shut the door, and Nathan thought the woman must be part saint.

Seconds later, the door reopened and Mrs. Pendell walked inside.

Behind Mrs. Pendell stood Lydia Caswell.

A half-dozen men filled the library, and in front of Lydia was one of the tallest men she’d ever seen. His hair was a reddish-brown, his eyes a cool blue. As Mrs. Pendell introduced her to General Washington, she wished Sarah could have joined her in meeting this great man.

He stepped forward and extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Caswell.”

She returned his handshake. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.”

“My nephew tells me I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

She dropped her hand, confused, until she looked to the general’s right, at Nathan stepping out from the shadows. But instead of wearing a laborer’s clothes, he was dressed in a fine black coat and white breeches.

“Your nephew?” she asked.

General Washington looked between them. “Did you not know?”

“I did not, sir.”

When the general eyed him, Nathan shrugged. “It was not pertinent information.”

Mrs. Pendell wrung her hands together. “We have a most urgent matter to discuss with you, sir.”

General Washington’s gaze became serious. “What is it?”

Mrs. Pendell prompted Lydia forward, but she could hardly speak. Her eyes were on Nathan, General Washington’s nephew. He had said he was working for Washington, but she had no idea just how closely. Why hadn’t he told her?

The door opened behind her, and she turned to watch a dark-skinned man walk into the room with a silver platter. He was dressed in formal attire and white gloves, but he didn’t hold his head high like a gentleman. Instead, his eyes were focused on the ground.

Mr. Wythe moved one of the maps. “You may set it here, Samar.”

As he began to pour the coffee, a surge of compassion rushed over Lydia. This man desired freedom, just like everyone in this room, but he wouldn’t obtain it by poisoning the general.

Samar held a cup out to General Washington, but Lydia stepped forward, waving her hand. “Do not drink that.”

Nathan’s face was as grave as the general’s. “What is it, Lydia?”

“Major Reed returned to the plantation last night for a meeting. He told another officer of a plot to assassinate you, sir.”

The general took the proffered cup. “Every British officer seems to have a plot to do away with my life.”

When Samar began backing toward the door, she turned to him. “What did you put in his coffee?” she demanded.

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

How she hated this. She didn’t want harm to come to this man, and yet he had chosen this course.

“I know you poisoned the drink.”

She glanced back as General Washington lowered his cup onto the platter.

Samar swore before he turned and ran.

Cannons blasted around Grayson. The battle had begun early this morning, and, frankly, he didn’t care whether he lived or died. The Americans had all the supplies they needed, and now he and his new ship must fight for his country. For Sarah.