Faithfully Yours (21 page)

“Are you asking me to choose between Sebastian and my family?”

“I hope it does not come to that, but you must be prepared if it does.”

Fourteen

“This is most unfortunate.”

Faith wanted to reach into the shadows and shake the woman, who was speaking the obvious. All her attempts to become accustomed to the squeaky voice the woman used to conceal her own had been futile. Today, each word pierced Faith's aching head.

“I realize that.” Her own tone was testy, but she had not done all she could to sneak away from the house just to be told what she already knew.

It was more than being irked. She had come to hate this web of lies she had created out of good intentions. She wanted to be honest with her family and her friends … and with Sebastian. Her heart yearned to know if he loved her, but she could not ask him to be honest when this lie was between them.

What sounded like a muffled laugh added to Faith's vexation, but she said nothing when the woman replied, “We must make sure no other British soldier discovers the meeting place here. I have heard how Major Kendrick is asking questions about this byre.”

“Yes.” Although she was curious about how a discussion that had taken place within the walls of her father's house could so quickly become known, she knew it was senseless to ask.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“We have been looking for a way to create a diversion that would lure the British soldiers' attention from Tom Rooke.”

“Sebastian will not remain diverted from his duties simply because of some gloves found in a damp byre.” Faith set her basket on the log where Sebastian had sat and watched the storm. “Even my pretense that the gloves had been stolen from my house will not hold his interest long.”

“So we need another type of diversion.”

“What type?” She wished she could see the other woman's face, to gauge her emotions. This fake voice could hide so much.

“Anything that would take Major Kendrick's attention from Tom Rooke and put it on someone else.”

Faith rubbed her hands together, but could not warm them. The day had turned even colder in the wake of the ice storm. Yet, even if it had been midsummer, she would be cold because of the frigid fear that came from deep within her. “Christmastide remains too far away to plan a gathering that would demand everyone's attention.”

“A gathering is a good idea, however.”

Faith again resisted the yearning to tell the woman to speak with a normal voice. Her head ached … almost as much as her heart.

“I might be able to devise some event at the church, but the idea would have to be something that Reverend McEachern would accept without too many questions. He has made it clear that he will not choose sides.”

“The church is another excellent idea.” There was a pause, and then the woman said, “And an excellent place for a wedding.”

Faith clutched her cloak more tightly over her shoulders. “A wedding? But whose?”

“The wedding of one of the British soldiers and a local woman would create a diversion that would reach from here to Philadelphia.” The woman's laugh was as high-pitched as her voice, giving it the sound of a bird scolding her from a tree.

“True.”

“You are from a well-known family, Mistress Faith.”

She swallowed hard. If this was some sort of test to prove her loyalty to General Washington, it was wasted. She wanted to repeat that getting involved in sending supplies to the rebels had been not for any political reason, but because she did not want her friends to suffer the winter's cold and damp. Too late, she was learning that wavering was impossible. “I doubt if anyone in Philadelphia knows whether I am living or dead.”

“But they know Major Kendrick. A match between the two of you would create the very diversion that we need to free Tom Rooke before he divulges all he knows.”

“Me? Marry Sebastian?” As she clasped her shaking hands, her heart threatened to dance right within her chest. She loved Sebastian, but his heart was not here in America. It was in his father's house in England, where he hoped to obtain his father's respect.

“You could be an earl's wife,” continued the woman.

Faith looked up from her folded hands. “Do you think I must be offered some great prize in exchange for marriage?”

“I think you should be aware of every aspect of this match.” Again the woman laughed. “Just as everyone else will be. What gossip this will create! A Pennsylvania colonist's daughter and an earl's heir finding each other in the middle of war and deciding to wed … The tale of it will be on every tongue in the county. It is the perfect solution.”

Faith knew she must have said something to agree, but she could not recall her words as she walked through the woods back toward her house. Ice crackled as she brushed through a stand of evergreens. Her steps faltered when she reached the road leading to the farm.

The plan for the diversion seemed so logical, but what sort of logical reason could she give Sebastian for marrying her? She could speak of how the ecstasy that had been theirs could be theirs for the rest of their lives. She could mention how they enjoyed their other times together. She could even tell him how she loved him.

Even so, one question echoed over and over through her mind. Why should an earl's heir marry
her
? Her father had always held a position of respect in Goshen, but this was a small settlement far from Philadelphia or Baltimore or New York City. She might flounder among society in those cities. To appear in London on his arm … She shuddered as she imagined the mistakes she might make, mistakes that would bring shame to Sebastian and his family.

Her half-formed hopes of avoiding him until she had this jumble sorted out in her mind were dashed when Sebastian came out of the remaining barn just as she was walking toward the front door. His dark cloak was tossed back over one shoulder, and above a low mat of ebony beard his face was nearly as red as his uniform. Where had he been riding? How long had he been out in the cold?

“Just the one I had hoped to speak to,” Sebastian said, putting his arm around her waist. His kiss was light and teasing, but she could not ignore the powerful emotions he held so tightly in check.

“Upon your return?” She could not restrain her curiosity.

“You always take note of what is happening around you, so I shall not flatter myself that you missed me when I left here at dawn.”

Faith smiled. “I suspect you are waiting for me to say something like, ‘But I noticed your absence more than I would any other's.'”

Instead of replying, he walked with her into the house. His face had the stern lines she had seen when they first met. She had come to recognize that expression. Something was distressing him, something he wished could be dealt with swiftly.

After he took her cloak and hung it next to his, he held out his hand to her. She wove her fingers through his and went with him into the parlor. He closed the door behind them, amazing her. She could not recall the last time the door had been closed.

“Please sit,” he said, motioning to the chair closest to the hearth.

Sitting, she raised her eyes to Sebastian's. Softly she asked, “What is it that you want to speak about?”

“You must have heard the men talking about when we would be leaving here for good.”

“Leaving for good?” Her voice cracked. Leaving? She had not guessed when Sebastian's men had been speaking of riding away at the end of the week that they meant anything but another excursion through the Chester County hills. Her throat tightened. If Sebastian left now … She could not imagine never seeing him again.

“I have completed part of my orders here, but not all of them.”

“To find the delegates to the Continental Congress?”

“That is one thing.”

Faith bit her lower lip. That Sebastian turned away as he said that meant he could not be honest with her about the rest of his orders. Did this have something to do with Tom Rooke? Had Tom revealed to his interrogators something that would be sending Sebastian away from here … away from her? Fear threatened to freeze her heart. Had Tom betrayed
her
?

When Sebastian knelt in front of her, he put his hand on her cheek. “Faith, I thought you would have more to say. You always have opinions.”

“If you want to know my opinion, it is that I truly do not wish you to leave.” She turned her face and pressed her mouth against his palm, which was scented with cold and leather and the odor of his horse.

“Nor do I wish to leave, when I promised that I would protect you and your family from the thieves.”

She stiffened, afraid he knew the truth and wishing she could speak it. “Your orders must outweigh such a promise.”

“A promise is not something a Kendrick makes or breaks easily.” He folded her hands between his. “That is why I have given much thought to what I wish to say before I must leave. Marry me, Faith.”

“You want to marry me?” She faltered.
He
was asking
her
to marry? She blurted, “Why?”

“How can you ask why when we have shared this—and so much more?” He caught her face between his hands and kissed her with slow, deep longing.

Her breathing was as uneven as her heartbeat when she whispered the thought that haunted her. “But, Sebastian, you are the son of an earl. Why would the son of a British lord wish to marry the daughter of a Pennsylvania farmer?”

“Because I love you, Faith.”

Wanting to jump to her feet and dance about the room as he spoke the words she had not dared to heed even in her dreams, she began, “But—”

He put his finger to her lips as he smiled. “If you will be mine, I will be faithfully yours, Faith. Tell me that you will agree to this match.”

Slowly, she came to her feet. Why was she hesitating? This was going far better than she had any reason to expect. All her fears about how to persuade Sebastian to ask her to wed had been for naught. He had been planning to ask her to be his wife.

“Don't tell me that this proposal is sudden, that you are completely surprised,” he said as she walked to the window to look out at the ice-heavy trees. “You have known my feelings for you since …” He chuckled. “Since before the snowstorm that stranded your family throughout the county.”

His hushed laugh begged her to toss aside all thoughts except those of how glorious it would be to be his wife, to sleep in his arms each night, to sample his passion for the years of their lives together.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, that you have known my feelings for you, or that you will be my wife?”

Something was not right about what should be so perfect. She wished she could explain what was bothering her. Sebastian's offer seemed sincere, and her heart had throbbed with joy when he spoke of being in love with her. Maybe it was nothing more than that he was asking her to be his wife at the very same time the rebels needed this diversion to free Tom Rooke. Was it just coincidence, or was it something more?

She wanted to know the answer to that. Even more, though, she wanted to marry Sebastian, so that he would come back to her when he finished his search for the furtive Continental Congress. The rapture she had found in his touch would be hers for all time.

“Yes,” she said as softly. “Yes, that I will be your wife.”

Slowly, he turned her to face him. The warmth of his rough palm grazed her cheek as his broad hands framed her face, and a pulse of liquid fire pooled through her. That pool became a cascade when his thumb edged along her jaw and up over her chin to trace the heat across her lips. They parted as his fingers combed upward, tangling gently in her hair.

With a soft moan, he tugged her mouth to his. His tongue stroked her lips in a slow, tantalizing caress. She shivered, and his arms tightened around her.

“The wedding will have to be before we leave,” he murmured as he sprinkled kisses along her face.

“So soon?”

“I do not want to leave without having at least one more night with you.

She pulled back, staring at him in horror. “You sound as if you think you shall not survive your journey.”

Sebastian knew he must choose his words with care. He did not want to scare her, but she must understand the dangers he faced. As he gazed down into her wide eyes, he realized she already did. “I expect to return—to be by your side while we both grow old.”

“But you cannot be sure.”

“There are no guarantees, especially in war, sweet one.” When she swayed, he slipped his arm around her waist again. She fit as perfectly in his arms as seasoned boots fit on his feet. Kissing her, he released her, although he would have liked to draw her even closer. “I am certain you have much to do before we marry, sweet one.”

“Before week's end?”

“I can delay our leave-taking until Sunday, so shall we marry on Friday?” He tapped her nose. “I would like more than
one
night with you as your husband before I must continue my duties.”

Delight flared in her eloquent eyes before she rushed out of the room to do what she needed to do to begin preparations for this wedding that must have been quite a surprise for her. After all, he thought, it was for him.

Sebastian went to the sideboard in the dining room and poured a large glass of the cider there. Tipping it back, he drank deeply. Cromwell would be delighted with the tidings of this match. His own father? The earl was interested in only two things beyond his mistresses and cards—having his son be lauded as a hero to uphold the family tradition, and bouncing his son's heir on his knee.

This marriage would bring the earl the latter, for Faith had shown how she loved children by watching so closely over her younger siblings. He let a smile twist his lips. Her responsiveness to his seduction had also revealed that she would not be a reluctant wife.