The Courier of Caswell Hall (6 page)

Mother nodded. “She was curled up on the chaise lounge.”

“But I checked the library prior to—”

Mother patted his hand. “You have been preoccupied, Charles.”

Beside her, Hannah straightened the flatware by her plate. “A chair is a most unusual place to sleep.”

Lydia shrugged. “I was tired.”

Hannah smiled. “But apparently not tired enough to—”

Prudence stepped into the room, holding up a platter. “We have ginger pudding and macaroons for dessert.”

Mother glanced over her shoulder, surprised. None of the servants ever announced the food. “Thank you, Prudence.”

Prudence set the platter on the sideboard and turned to place a silver bowl in front of Mother. “I know the pudding is your favorite, ma’am.”

“Indeed it is.”

Lydia flashed a smile at the maidservant for redirecting Father. Prudence had been with their family for so many years, Father would forgive her indiscretion.

Mother sampled the pudding. “Please tell Viney that it is splendid.”

Prudence nodded. “Aye.”

Father cleared his throat. “I have news.”

Lydia sighed quietly, relieved that he had moved past the questioning about her time in the library.

Hannah lifted her spoon as Prudence put a bowl in front of her. “Do tell.”

“I received a letter from Solomon Reed. His son has been commissioned a major in the British army.”

Mother took a macaroon from the proffered plate. “What an extraordinary opportunity for him.”

Lydia wasn’t certain how extraordinary it was, considering that most British officers had to pay for such an honor, but there was no good reason to provoke Father.

“Who is Solomon Reed?” Hannah asked.

“An old friend from London.” Father looked at Lydia. “You must remember him.”

“I am afraid I do not.”

Father sighed. “I suppose you were too young to recall everyone you met there.”

They’d visited London when Lydia was twelve. Hannah would have been two. Lydia remembered the parks in London, the great river called Thames, and the older woman whom she was supposed to call Grandmother. The faintest memory remained of her parents’ friends, but she didn’t remember their names.

Prudence set the tray of macaroons in front of Father, but he didn’t even look down at it. “According to Solomon, Major Reed has arrived in the colonies. If I’m able to find him, perhaps we can invite him here for a visit.”

Mother reached for a second macaroon. “What a splendid idea.”

Hannah smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. “I am sure he will be most interesting company.”

Father looked at her. “You seem to find every bachelor interesting.”

“That is because there are so few of them, Father.”

Father glanced at Lydia. “I am hoping you might find him interesting as well. Solomon’s son would be a fine match.”

“Indeed,” Mother replied.

Lydia’s eyes grew wide. It was one thing for her father to speak in general terms about her marrying a British man. It was quite another for him to pursue a specific man for her marriage. “You do not know what type of match he would be.”

Hannah leaned forward. “Any Englishman would be more suitable than Seth.”

Father’s eyes narrowed. “You will not speak of that man at my table!”

“But Lydia is planning to marry—”

“Hannah,” Mother interrupted, “your father said not to talk about him.”

Hannah looked at Lydia from across the table and sniffed. “There are other things to talk about, I suppose.”

She knew well that look in her sister’s eyes. She was about to spill the news about seeing Lydia outside.

“There most certainly are other things to discuss,” Lydia said as she turned toward Father. There was so much she wanted to ask, like who Arnold was, but then he would inquire about where she’d heard the name and she could not tell him. It was better to steer him in a different direction, one that would trump anything Hannah said. “Did you see the ships going upriver last night?”

He leaned so far forward that the white lawn material of his cravat brushed across the pudding. “What ships?” he demanded.

“The ones with British flags.”

His spoon clattered onto the table. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I did not want to disturb you.”

“You should have—”

“At least you know now,” Mother said as she wiped the pale orange streak of pudding off his cravat. “There is no reason to badger.”

Father sat back against the wooden chair and a slow smile washed across his lips. “The British are in Virginia.”

“It appears so,” Lydia replied.

“Where do you think they are going?” Mother asked.

Father lifted his wine again. “They must be sailing to Richmond.”

Mother put her napkin beside her plate. “Excellent news for us.”

“Indeed.” Father pushed back his chair and stood. Hannah left the room behind him.

Mother remained beside her at the table. “Viney said she’s missing the soup bowl you used earlier.”

Lydia’s spine stiffened. She had rushed away so quickly from the coach house that she’d left the bowl on the basin. “I shall retrieve it for her.”

Mother studied her face. “What are you hiding, Lydia?”

She hesitated. It was one thing to mislead her sister and Father, but she could never lie to her mother. Unlike Hannah, Mother knew how to keep a secret, but Lydia didn’t want to pull her into the deception, not until she knew whether this stranger they were harboring was loyal to the Crown.

“Helping,” she whispered, hoping her mother wouldn’t pry further.

Mother sighed. “I do not suppose you’re feeding a wounded animal, are you?”

Lydia shook her head.

“Then ’tis probably unwise for me to ask questions,” Mother said, tempering her inquiry.

“Probably.”

“Have you heard from Seth?”

She shook her head. “But I would like to go visit Sarah.”

“We cannot go visit,” Mother said. “Not now.”

“Sarah does not feel the same way as Seth.”

“’Tis not wise,” Mother insisted. “It would look like—”

“Like we are loving our neighbor,” Lydia said.

“I wish it were not so complicated.” Mother wrapped Lydia’s hand in hers. “You will be careful, my daughter.”

“I will.”

It was for the best, she supposed. A visit to her best friend would fill some of her loneliness, and she longed to hear news of Seth, but she couldn’t leave the plantation until the man sleeping in Elisha’s room was gone.

“You and I shall shop in Williamsburg soon. It will cheer you.”

“Perhaps.”

“Hopefully this Major Reed will come to Virginia. It has been too long since you have enjoyed the company of men your age.”

Lydia looked down, wiggling her toes in her wet shoes. Was it possible that this Major Reed had already arrived at Caswell Hall? Perhaps he was the man she’d been sheltering outside.

“Lydia . . .”

She looked back up.

“I am certain that Viney would like the bowl back.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Is it in the library?”

Lydia shook her head.

Mother sighed. “Please bring it back before one of the servants finds it.”

If they found the soup bowl, they would also find the man who’d eaten from it.

Before she turned, Mother eyed the damp soup stain on Lydia’s sleeve. “And you had best change your gown.”

Dust covered the dresser and bedpost in her brother’s chamber. Lydia quietly closed the door behind her and looked around in the dim light. Mother had told the servants not to touch his room until he returned, as if Grayson would return on the morrow.

Four years had passed now, and there was still no word from him or even about him. How she missed him and his antics that made her laugh. He was only two years older than her, and yet she’d always thought him much wiser. Grayson loved to solve problems, and during the early part of the war, Mother had relied heavily on him to find household items and fabrics that no one else could secure.

Someday they would have to accept that he was gone, that they might never know what had happened to him, but at present her parents refused to even discuss the disappearance of their son.

Perhaps after the war—

She had retrieved a yellow ribbon from her chamber, and in Grayson’s room, she opened the wardrobe and scanned the navy-and-black breeches and the waistcoats colored with light gray, sage green, and a coral that reminded her of the wildflowers that grew in their forest each spring. Her brother wouldn’t mind if she used some of his clothes.

His silk stockings were in a drawer, and under his bed were two pairs of buckled shoes. She slipped out a pair to take to the stranger.

In the first months after Grayson disappeared, she wondered why he—or an acquaintance of his—didn’t send them a message. As the months and then years passed, she began to assume that he had passed on like Grandfather. Before the declaration for colonial independence was published, Grayson and the senior Lord Caswell had spoken out
for peace over patriotism in Williamsburg, and Grandfather advocated loyalty both to their neighbors and to a monarch. Neither man wanted war or death, but their sentiments for peace hadn’t made them popular with either side.

She retrieved a tan-colored waistcoat and made a bundle of stockings, shoes, a blue-and-gray scarf, and a black cloak. As long as Mother didn’t find Lydia with the clothing, she would never realize they were missing.

Father was meeting with the overseer in his office to the north of their house this morning, and last she knew, Mother was mending a dress in her chamber. She heard strains of the pianoforte in the drawing room downstairs, thankful that Hannah was occupied for the moment as well.

It was ridiculous, all this sneaking around, but her guest couldn’t leave until he had decent clothing.

But then again, perhaps he wouldn’t have to leave at all. If Major Reed had washed up on their shore, her parents would welcome him into their home.

Every bone in Nathan’s body ached as he slowly pushed himself up from the bed again. He was almost upright, his hands balanced under his weight—but then his arms collapsed and his head crashed back onto the pillow.

His foot throbbed, and a terrible weariness seemed to chain him to this bed. He didn’t know how long he had been here, but he must leave soon. He had to warn the colonists and rally the people of Virginia to defend Richmond before the newly commissioned British general, a traitor named Benedict Arnold, surprised them with an attack.

Richmond first and then Williamsburg.

He scanned the small room again. Sunlight beamed through the beveled glass and lit a cream-colored bowl beside the basin. In his last prison, he hadn’t had a bed or a window—or food, for that matter. Someone had been taking good care of him here.

There was no time to linger in the comforts of this place. He must obtain a new disguise and travel to Richmond straightaway.

He sat up and forced his legs off the side of the bed. Perhaps if he could stand, the rest of his body would cooperate. He just had to make himself move.

But no matter how hard he pushed himself, he failed. It was as if his body was anchored to the bed.

How was he going to walk to Hammond Plantation if he couldn’t even stand?

He fell back onto his pillow again. It was hopeless. He couldn’t even walk as far as the window. He certainly couldn’t stop Benedict Arnold from taking Virginia, nor could he deliver his message.

Something shuffled outside his door, and he covered his legs with the blanket. Closing his eyes, he prayed silently that the person on the other side of the door was a friend.

The hinges groaned as the door opened and footsteps padded toward him. For a moment, all was still.

A shadow crossed over him, as if someone was inches above, examining his face. He kept his breath steady, hoping the visitor would think he was asleep.

Did this person intend to harm him or care for him? Or perhaps he or she was just curious about who he was.

The person shuffled away, and he opened his eyes ever so slightly to see a woman in the room, her back to him as she rummaged through his coat.

He propped himself on his elbows, his mind racing. “Those are my things.”

She gasped, whirling around to face him.

Her light chestnut hair hung loosely under her cap, and her eyes were the lavender color of the Virginia bluebells on his uncle’s plantation. In any other situation he might be intrigued, smitten even, but he didn’t care how pretty this woman was. She had no right to be going through his private affairs.

He sat up straighter. “What exactly are you searching for?”