Faithfully Yours (7 page)

Sebastian's face closed up. It was to no avail, because she could see his fury in his eyes. Her words had stung him more than any of her other gibes.

Instead of wondering what was amiss with him, Faith went to the front door. She did not want to explore why this man reacted the way he did. Getting too familiar with any British soldier would be foolhardy—doubly so with Sebastian, for she could not forget how his chaste touch created the most unchaste images in her head.

When she reached for her cloak, which was hanging by the door, it was lifted off its hook. She stiffened as it was settled on her shoulders. She should not be exulting in the very anticipation of his touch when he might stumble on Tom Rooke and discover how she had been taking supplies to the rebels. Sebastian's fingers did not linger on her shoulders, for he reached for his own cape. Tying her cloak around her neck, she watched as he drew gloves from beneath his cape. Their leather was smooth and the color of maple syrup.

“I have no ulterior motive for offering to help find your sisters, if that is what you fear,” he said quietly as her brothers rushed past them and out the door, the family's dogs racing after them, barking wildly. “Your father is my host, and it is my duty as his guest to help.”

“And you always do your duty, don't you?”

His mouth tightened into a straight line. “Can't you set aside your ludicrous hatred of soldiers long enough to let me be your ally in finding Nancy and Molly? I know you harbor much rancor toward the soldiers who have treated you coarsely and who slew your friend. She—”

“
He
. My best friend is—was a he.” She opened the door and flinched as the cold air struck her. “Wade Mertz, who lived on the farm bordering this one, was my best friend.”

“Mertz? The same name of the family your sisters were visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Did you plan to marry this man?”

“No.” She smiled sadly as she crossed the narrow porch beside him. “He was betrothed to Lillian Horner. Wade and I went fishing together and picked berries together. I was the one who suggested he start calling on Lillian.”

“He died in the battle by the Brandywine?”

She closed her eyes. “I don't want to talk about this any longer. I still cannot believe he is dead.”

“I am sorry, Faith.” With his fingers gloved in the fine leather, he took her hand, and that spiral of beguiling warmth surged up her arm. “I shall say no more about it unless you wish to speak of this again.”

How could she be thinking of Sebastian's touch at the same time they were talking about Wade's death? Everything she should hate was embodied in this man, yet she was drawn to his sense of honor and his easy smile and his incredible touch.

“All I want to think of now is finding my sisters,” Faith said sternly, both to herself and to him.

Telling her to wait on the porch, Sebastian ran toward the barn. His shouts to his men rang sharply through the still night.

Faith drew the edges of her cloak more tightly around her. She could not stay here and let the soldiers search wherever they wished. Would Nancy and Molly go into a tumbledown byre more than a mile beyond Mistress Mertz's farm? That was unlikely, but so was it unlikely that the two girls would not be home in time for their meal.

She followed Sebastian as far as the fence surrounding the barn. The hushed mooing from the shadows vanished beneath the clamor of Sebastian's men's boots on the hard ground as they poured out of the barn. Sebastian turned and held out his hand to her. Even in the twilight, she could see his men's eyes widen, but she did not hesitate as she put her fingers in his.

“Cromwell's youngest children are missing,” Sebastian said. “They were paying a call on a neighbor, and they have not returned. I have offered our assistance in finding them.” He paused as Emery and Ezekial raced by on horseback. Waving aside the frozen mud raised as they passed, he added, “Faith, you know best where to look. Tell us.”

Faith outlined various places where the twins liked to explore. In quick order, Sebastian commanded his men to go to the creek and to the neighbors' houses. He sent two men toward the field where the twins had found their rabbit.

As his men hurried to obey, Sebastian asked, “Any other places?”

“There is one.”

“Then let's go there.”

Faith hesitated, then said, “This way.”

Pausing only to get a lantern, for the stars piercing the night clouds offered too little light, Sebastian walked beside her as she went in the opposite direction of Mistress Mertz's house. “Why this way?”

“Because there is an old barn in this direction that Father uses to store hay. It belonged to a farmer whose house burned. Instead of rebuilding, he sold it to Father once the last war with the French was over and moved farther west.”

“Enemies become friends quickly, don't they?”

She opened a gate in the fence around the field they had to cross. When Sebastian offered his arm, she put her fingers on it. He drew her hand more deeply into his arm by lowering his elbow toward his side.

“You didn't answer my question,” he said as he held the lantern higher so they could walk across the field without stepping into any frozen pools among the furrows.

“You are speaking of politics, which do not interest me as much as finding my sisters.”

“I assumed that, but I thought we might talk while we search. Maybe the sound of our voices will reach them before we do.”

“We could sing. Melodies carry farther than voices.”

He chuckled. “My attempts to sing would be guaranteed to chase them away. So, will you answer?”

“You are vexing.”

“And you are trying to find any excuse not to answer my question.” He stepped over a puddle, then into another. With a curse, he kicked water and mud from his boot.

Faith laughed. When he glowered at her, she laughed harder. “You should be grateful that this is not the field where the cows graze.”

“I shall be most grateful to return to your father's house and get out of this cold.” He shook his foot again. “I was promised these boots would not leak.”

“If you wish to go back, give me the lantern, and I will check the old barn.”

“And avoid answering my question.”

“I don't even remember what you asked.”

He led her around yet another puddle. “Don't worry. I will ask it again when we are warm and your sisters are safe. Time enough then for you to give an answer.”

“If I have one.”

He bent his elbow, squeezing her fingers on his arm. “I am sure you will. You have had an answer for every other one I have asked.”

Was he jesting with her again? She had avoided answering other questions and given him noncommital responses. Since the lantern was held out in front of him as they approached the gate on the other side of the field, she could not see his face to discover if he was trying to goad her into retorting.

As Sebastian latched the gate behind them, Faith said, “The barn is over there by that stand of trees.”

“I see it.”

Again she glanced at him. Even though she knew where the barn was, she could not distinguish it from the darkness. She stared into the night, but did not see the barn's walls until they stood within an arm's length of them. Leading him around to where a door opened into the barn, she slid her foot over the threshold.

“The floor is still here, I assume,” Sebastian said, the same light tone in his voice.

“It should be. Father would not want it to fall out from under him.”

He sprayed the area with light. Seeing something by a rickety ladder in the corner, Faith rushed to it. She picked up a mitten.

“This belongs to one of my sisters,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“That red yarn you were admiring? I like to use it often in my knitting.”

He took the mitten from her. “'Twas not the yarn I was admiring, Faith, but the fingers using it.”

“Then allow me …” She pointed toward the ladder. “You can admire this one as you climb up to see if the girls are up there.”

Running his finger along hers, he chuckled. “Up there? Is this your attempt to get me up into the haymow, Faith?”

“Your fantasies are yours alone.”

“Really?” He tipped up her chin.

“We must find the twins.” Wishing her voice was not so unsteady, she stepped away. His teasing created images in her mind that had no right to be there.

“You are right.” He gave her the mitten, then grasped the side of the ladder with one hand and climbed up, the light from the lantern swaying with his motions.

She clasped her hands as she stood in the darkness. She strained to judge where he was by the sound of his footfalls and the shifting of the light through the uneven boards overhead. She heard him pause, then turn. Her heart dropped painfully. The girls must not be up there. Where else might they have gone?

“Faith?”

She looked up to see Sebastian peering over the side of the door to the haymow. His face was in silhouette, so the lantern must be on the floor beyond him. “Yes?”

“Come up here.”

“You found them?”

“Come up here.”

Hoping his light tone did not mean he was hoaxing her, she grasped her skirts and bunched them around her as she climbed up the ladder with some trepidation. She made sure each foot was secure on the rung before lifting the other up to the next board. As her head rose above the upper floor, she looked both ways through the dusty light that reached in a small circle around the lantern.

She gasped when a kiss brushed her cheek. Looking up at Sebastian, who was kneeling beside the door, she said, “You should recall why we are here.”

“I always recall as much as I can about each moment I spend with you.” He reached down and grasped her by the waist. As if she weighed no more than one of the twins, he lifted her onto the upper floor.

“Thank you,” she said, breathless.

“No, thank
you.
” His finger edged along her cheek. “'Tis a long time since I've had a chance to kiss a pretty lass in a haymow.”

This man was more exasperating than any she had ever met. “Sebastian, I—”

“Hush. You shall wake them.”

“
Wake
them?”

Sebastian came to his feet and turned her so she could see two small forms lying on the hay at the very edge of the light. He smiled. “They are asleep.”

“Mother is going to be furious.”

“But glad they have been found.”

“Very glad.”

“Can you carry one?”

Faith hesitated, looking at the ladder. “Once we get down, yes, but—”

“Climb down, and I will lower one to you. Then I will bring the other.”

“Can you carry her and the lantern?”

“Once we are down the ladder.”

“All right.” She turned. Taking a deep breath, she knelt beside the ladder. How she hated them! She could climb to the top of the tallest tree, but she hated ladders, which wobbled when she stepped onto them.

Sebastian slipped past her and down the ladder. He gripped it. “I have it steady, Faith.”

Glad that he had not teased her about this peculiar fear, she edged her feet out over the doorway and wiggled her toes until she found the first rung. Slowly she settled her other foot beside it. She took another deep breath, then reached for the next lower slat. As she slipped down into the shadows pooled beneath the lantern on the floor above, some sense that had nothing to do with her eyes urged her to look straight ahead.

She wondered if any darkness could obscure the glistening wells of Sebastian's eyes. As she drew even with them, she realized he was standing on the other side of the ladder. Her fingers brushed against his as she took another step down. With only thin pieces of wood between her and his broad chest, she did not dare to breathe.

“Take care,” he said as she hurried down the last two rungs to the floor.

“You are the one who should take care. Don't you know it can bring bad luck to be standing under a ladder?”

He came around it and cupped her chin in his hand. His gloves were softer than his skin, but they could not restrain the fire that leaped from his fingers to her face. “So I have heard, but I must admit I found myself in a very lucky place just now. I see you put red stripes on stockings as well.”

“You are outrageous!” She pulled back and smoothed her skirts down, but it was too late. He must have glimpsed her ankles—and how much more?—when she came down the ladder.

“Just taking advantage of an otherwise dreary situation.”

“Dreary? We found the twins!”

“But you escaped from the haymow with only a single kiss and, to make the situation even more horrible, a kiss only on the cheek. A very dreary thought.”

“Your thoughts should be solely on getting my sisters down here.”

“You are a woman who will not be distracted.” He caressed her cheek before climbing back up the ladder.

As Faith gripped one side of the ladder tightly, her knees seemed unstable. Resting her cheek on the rough board, she wondered how Sebastian could be so insightful most of the time and yet so wrong now. She was distracted by his touch—so much that she had to force herself to remember that Nancy and Molly could take a chill and sicken if they remained up in the haymow.

Hearing Sebastian's soft whisper, she held up her arms and took the little girl that he lowered through the hole. She set the groggy Molly on the floor, then did the same with Nancy. As Sebastian came down the ladder with the lantern hanging over his arm, she lifted Molly and settled her in her arms. Sebastian gathered up Nancy and followed her out of the barn.

By the time they reached the house, the girls were awake and demanding to walk. Mother gushed her thanks before she herded the twins upstairs to be put to bed with warm stones and a cup of chicken soup. Father went to find Emery and Ezekial, and Sebastian left to call back his men.