Midnight (3 page)

“I did and with a clear conscience. I had no stomach for burning the lodgings of innocent Indians.”

“No such thing as an innocent Indian.”

Hall drawled dryly, “Kingston, I’d heard you were intolerant but having never personally witnessed it, I gave such talk the benefit of the doubt. However, you have more than confirmed the gossip.”

He pointed his spoon Hall’s way. “As if I care what you or anyone else thinks. Primus was arrested for treason, and it was his own doing.”

The words put frost in Nicholas’s veins and voice, “Pray that I do not find you out to be my father’s betrayer, Mr. Kingston.”

“More hubris. Be careful what you wish for, Nicholas.”

Their eyes met and Nicholas knew the battle had begun. To keep himself from causing a scene, he moved his dessert aside and stood. “I’m going to pay my respects to Mistress Lawson and take my leave. The air in here is suddenly too foul to bear.”

He turned to Prince Hall. “Hall, I will call on you in a couple of days if I may.”

Hall nodded.

Nick met Kingston’s eyes and received a gloating smile.

The angry Nicholas found Blythe and Kingston’s daughter in the kitchen eating by the fire. When he entered, Blythe stood and opened her arms in welcome. “Nicholas, it’s so good to see you after so many years.”

He walked over to her and let himself be enfolded for a moment. “Good to see you as well. You are still the loveliest woman in the colonies.”

“And you are still the most charming. I’m so sorry for your loss. Primus was a dear man and a friend.”

“Not according to Kingston.” He looked to Faith and said, “My apologies, but your father is a difficult man.”

“I know, but I am sorry for your loss as well. Although I’ve never told my father, Primus always had a kind word for me.”

“Thank you.” Nicholas found himself enthralled by her dark beauty. The thick black hair was pulled back showing off the blemish-free skin of her small face.

Wearing a knowing smile, Blythe looked between them and asked innocently, “Have the two of you been introduced?”

They shook their heads.

“Nicholas Grey, this is Faith Kingston. Faith—Nicholas.”

He bowed. “I’m honored.”

“I am as well.”

Once again Faith found herself held by his eyes, and once again it was difficult to draw in an even breath.

As their gazes held, Blythe asked, “How long will you be staying with us, Nicholas?”

He finally moved his attention away from Faith. “I’ll know better once I find the person who betrayed my father. I owe that to his memory.”

Faith silently agreed and was glad that she wasn’t the one who’d tipped off the British. Nicholas Grey impressed her as being a dangerous man, and she saw little sense in questioning him about what he would do once he discovered the betrayer’s identity; the answer lay in his cold eyes.

Nicholas thought about the role played by the mysterious Lady Midnight in Primus’s arrest but decided against bringing her into the conversation. He didn’t wish to embarrass the ladies by asking about someone who might possibly be an actress or a woman of the streets, nor did he wish to give Kingston’s daughter something to tell her father about. She was an unparalleled beauty, but he didn’t let that blind him to the fact that she could have General Gage’s ear, too. “Ladies, I’ll be taking my leave. Miss Kingston, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“For me as well, Mr. Grey. Again, my condolences on your loss.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment, and after saying good-bye to Blythe made his exit.

Blythe said, “I think he was taken by you, Faith.”

“And I think he’s a man of the world, who’d find a poor country girl like myself very lacking.”

The smiling Blythe gave no reply as she went back to her trifle.

T
hat evening, while alone in her bedroom at the back of the inn, Faith took out her stationery and began a letter. Using standard ink, she penned a list of some of the loyalist churches in the area. Once that was done, she opened her desk’s drawer and withdrew a small tin that held a different sort of ink. Dipping a fresh quill in it, she filled in the empty spaces between the list of names with a message about the newly arriving soldiers, and then added the names of the three generals Gage had mentioned. As she blew on the paper to help the ink dry, the words about the soldiers and generals magically disappeared. The letter’s recipient would be able to read it after passing the paper over a candle flame. Invisible ink was one of the many ways both sides of the intelligence-gathering community conducted their shadowy spying, or tradecraft as it was sometimes called. Other methods of discreet correspondence employed coded messages, and Faith used those also, but she wanted to be careful passing along this information. Primus had helped the rebels and paid for it with his life, and she didn’t want to share his fate. He’d been the leader of a small spy cabal made up of Blacks both slave and free. The maids, coopers, servants, and washwomen under his command were in a unique position to see and hear things from their loyalist owners and clientele that other information gatherers might not be privy to. Primus had been their captain and would pass along whatever his people heard or saw to his contacts within the Sons of Liberty. She regretted not being able to get word to him sooner about Gage’s interest. She’d only been told by her father earlier that afternoon. Had she known in a more timely fashion, he might still be alive. She ran hands over her weary eyes. She’d failed him and it was something she’d have to live with for the rest of her life.

A knock on her door made her hastily slip the letter and ink back into the drawer.

Her father called, “Faith! Are you sleeping?”

“No, Father. Please, come in.” He opened the door, and by his sour face she could tell something was wrong. “Are you ill?”

“Yes, ill from having to entertain Nicholas Grey.”

“He seemed respectable.”

“As respectable as the son of a traitor can be. I don’t want you to have anything to do with him, understand?”

“Certainly.”

“I hear he’s quite wealthy, and the simple-minded women around here will be thinking him a good catch, but you keep your distance. He’s not the man for you.”

“Yes, Father, but may I ask what started the quarrel between you and his father?”

“No, you may not.”

She gave no visible reaction but inside she sighed. She loved her father, but as Nicholas had so correctly pointed out, Stuart Kingston was a difficult man.

He asked, “Have you given any more thought to Will Case’s request?”

“Yes, and the answer is still, no.”

“You could do worse, daughter.”

“True, but why agree to marry a man I can’t abide?”

“You’re long past the age of being choosy, Faith. You should already be in your own home and raising children.”

“By society’s standards, yes, but by my own, I’ll not have Will.”

“And if I insist?”

“I’ll give myself to the first peddler that comes down the road.”

His eyes widened. “You would speak so disrespectfully to me!”

“Yes, so do not force this issue, please.” And then she smiled a bit. “Think of the positives. Should I remain unmarried, you’ll have me at your beck and call for the rest of your years.”

“Precisely what I’m trying to avoid.” He gauged her for a few silent moments. “You always were a headstrong child.”

“And have grown into a headstrong woman. I wonder where that comes from.”

He nodded. “Go to bed, Faith. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Father. Sleep well.”

Chapter 3

T
o make certain her father would be asleep and snoring, Faith waited an hour before preparing to leave the house. Once confident, she placed the coded letter into the hidden pocket sewn into the seam of one of her petticoats. She then wrapped herself in her long gray cape with its attached hood. Walking quietly over to the window, she slowly opened the shutters to keep them from squeaking and peered out into the darkness. There was no moon and that pleased her. She glanced back into the room to make certain everything was as it should be, then swung her legs and feet over the sill and dropped down to the soft soil a few inches below. Before taking a step, she cautiously listened for anything that might disturb her leaving. Hearing only the wind in the pines, she quickly set out.

Under the cover of the darkness, Nicholas, astride his stallion, watched Kingston’s daughter climb out through the window and couldn’t believe his eyes. What was she about? he wondered. He’d been silently observing the inn for the past two hours in order to see what kind of night visitors Kingston might have, if any. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see but it didn’t involve the man’s daughter leaving the house like a thief.

His eyes sharp, he watched her take to the field behind the house. Once she was far enough away not to detect his presence, he set out behind her.

With Primus gone, Faith had no one to siphon her spy news through, so she had to make do with another channel, her friend Charity Trotter, who worked in town as a hired servant for one of the Sons of Liberty. Outside of Primus and Faith, no one knew else Charity was a spy. Not even her husband, Ingram. Although the three were lifelong friends, Ingram was a loyalist, and as such, couldn’t be trusted. That saddened Faith for two reasons, one because she knew him to be a man of integrity and therefore he would have been an asset to the Sons of Liberty, and two, Ingram Trotter was the only man she’d ever loved.

By wagon the Trotter farm was only a short distance away, but on foot it took close to three-quarters of an hour. She moved as quickly as the damp ground allowed her. Her boots were going to be a muddy mess by the time she returned home, but at the moment she didn’t care. Due to the incriminating information hidden in her petticoats she was more concerned with staying hidden from the British patrols on the Concord Road. By keeping to the orchards and fields behind the farms along the route, she could avoid them. To her dismay, it began to rain, and by the time she reached her destination her cloak was nearly soaked through.

She knocked on the plank door. Because of the late hour, she expected Ingram to answer the summons and he did, carrying a short candle resting in a boat to aid his vision. “Faith?”

“I know it’s late, but this couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I need eggs for the general’s breakfast. Do you think Charity may have some I might purchase?”

He was only a bit taller than she, but his gentle nature and kind, hazel brown eyes more than made up for his lack of stature. “Come in and you can ask her. How have you been?”

She stepped inside and closed the door. “I’m well. And you and the family?”

“All faring well. Let me go and get her.”

“Thank you. I’ll stand here so as not to track mud all over her floors.”

“She’ll appreciate that. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As he left her, Faith glanced around the dimly lit parlor at the furniture and other appointments that made a place a home. Even though she and Charity were the best of friends, Faith couldn’t help but wonder, what if this were her home? The baby Ingram and Charity had, hers? The love the two of them shared, their love? But the scenario was just a meaningless exercise in fantasy. To Ingram, Faith had been someone he’d climbed trees with, built snow forts with in the winter, and hunted tadpoles with in the spring. In his own way he did love her, but not as a sweetheart. When he and Charity first began to court, it was difficult for Faith to listen to him express his deep feelings for Charity, and it was even more wrenching watching them marry because love wasn’t something you could snuff out like a candle. It became clear to her during adolescence that he’d never love her the way she did him, so she’d never revealed her feelings. However, she doubted she’d ever meet another man who’d capture her heart the way he had.

Charity came out of the back, and upon seeing Faith, smiled. “You need eggs?”

“Yes.”

Because they’d passed secrets before, Charity seemed to sense Faith’s true reason for the late night visit. “I have some eggs out by the coop. I’ll get them.”

She returned shortly with a small basket holding half a dozen brown eggs, cushioned and covered by a thin white cloth. “Here you are.” She passed Faith the basket, and in the same motion, Faith passed her the letter.

As a housekeeper and cook, one of Charity’s duties was to collect her employer’s mail. It was very easy for her to anonymously place Faith’s coded letters in among the others before turning the envelopes over to him. Faith had sent him messages before, all signed with the number one hundred and thirteen, the code number for Lady Midnight, so that he would know they were from her hand. However, he didn’t know that his housekeeper was spying on him for Primus. Anything the Sons of Liberty discussed that pertained to the Black community Primus had wanted to know, and Charity had been placed there specifically to aid in that endeavor as well. “Thank you for the eggs. If the general stops in, these will please him.”

“And we must keep the general pleased, mustn’t we?” she replied with a straight face, and a distinct sparkle of mischief in her brown eyes.

Ingram joined them just as the conversation ended. He was cradling their sleeping newborn son, Peter. He passed the child over to his mother. “How does the general seem?” he asked with interest, having heard their last few words.

“He’s well, I suppose. He seems to enjoy the food.”

“That’s quite a boon to have him visit you regularly.”

“That’s what my father thinks,” she replied, and smoothly changed the subject. “The baby’s getting big.” Because few people ventured out in the winter, she hadn’t seen Peter in some time.

Both parents smiled down at their son with fondness and pride.

Ingram said, “Once the weather warms, he can start making himself familiar with his aunt Faith.”

Faith nodded and told them both, “Thank you for your kindness this evening.”

Ingram opened the door and stepped outside with her. “Be careful going back.”

“I will.” And she headed out into the rain.

Faith wasn’t looking forward to slogging through the mud again, so she decided to walk the road on the journey home. Having passed her secret letter off to Charity, she had nothing on her person that would get her in trouble if she was stopped, and with the weather so foul, the patrols were probably warming themselves next to a tavern fire and lifting tankards of ale.

Halfway home, the rain stopped and she thanked the heavens. Up ahead she saw the Lucky Irish Tavern, which catered mainly to the British soldiers. As she approached, she could hear the sound of fiddlers sawing away inside and the loud voices of men singing a drinking song. Apparently they were having a good time. She hurried on.

A long stand of trees flanked the portion of the road she was now on. Suddenly a man astride a horse came out of the darkness. Frightened by the abrupt appearance her heart raced and she looked for a place to flee.

“Good evening, Miss Kingston.”

Realizing she knew the voice, she stared at the man in surprise and pushed her hood back to get a better view of his face. “Mr. Grey?”

He drew the horse closer. “Yes, it is.”

Relief filled her. “You frightened me.”

“My apology. Do you often go walking at midnight, Miss Kingston?”

Faith’s chin rose in response to the subtle accusation in his tone. “I had an errand to take care of.”

Nicholas didn’t believe her for a moment. He wondered if she’d been out making extra coin by lifting her skirts. It was an honest question, because wherever soldiers marched, loose women followed. However, she’d not given off the air of a strumpet when they were introduced earlier, but who knew the truth? The only certainty was that Kingston was unaware of his daughter’s excursion, otherwise she would have left by the front door. “What type of errand involves you sneaking out of a window? One that you don’t wish your father to know of, perhaps?”

Grabbing hold of her wits, she responded. “Yes. Because I’ve run out of eggs and he’d want to know why at breakfast in the morning.”

“Eggs?” he echoed.

“Yes.” And she showed him the basket. “In spite of what tales you may be begging to tell, I went to buy eggs. Am I to assume you were lurking in the trees?”

A lesser man might have wilted under her withering questioning, but Nick found her show of spine impressive. This was not the meek, dutiful young woman who’d been sent from the room like a child earlier in the day. “Yes, I was lurking in the trees.”

“For what purpose?”

“To see what I could see.”

“But you saw me instead.”

Nicholas delayed his response in order to study her small face. In the now rising moon, her skin looked soft as brown velvet, and her lips, although tightly set, couldn’t hide their well-formed lushness. Her nostrils appeared to be flaring and the black eyes assessing him so fearlessly were like a thunderstorm throwing lightning. He didn’t know whether to smile or be afraid.

“Why were you watching the inn?”

“For answers to my father’s death.”

“And you think you will find them here?” Her skepticism was plain.

“Our fathers were enemies. One was a loyalist, the other a supporter of the rebels. Were our roles reversed, where would you begin?”

“Elsewhere. Especially on such insignificant evidence.”

“You’ve a tart tongue.

“Honed from debating nonsense with men like you, Mr. Grey.” And she stormed away.

Nicholas watched the subtle swing of her cape as she marched ahead. Drawn by her sassiness and the mystery she presented, he propelled his stallion forward to catch up to her.

Once he and his horse were in pace beside her, she asked stonily, “Don’t you have a better place to be, Mr. Grey?”

“I’m content.”

“I’m not, so be on your way.”

“And leave you out here on the road alone? I’m a better gentleman than that.”

“Anyone spying on me and my father is no gentleman at all, sir.”

“I admit to many failings.”

“Go away.”

Nick smiled. “And probably miss out on the most interesting encounter I’ve had in some time? I think not. I’ll be escorting you home.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“View it as my penance for spying on you and your father.”

He saw the sharp look she shot his way, and the pleasure he was deriving from this late night meeting increased. “Why isn’t a beautiful woman like you married?”

“Do you always ask such rude questions?”

“Yes.”

Faith stopped. “Are you bedeviling me on purpose because of your feelings about my father?”

“No, Miss Kingston, I’m bedeviling you because I find you quite interesting. Not many women can give as good as they get.”

She didn’t respond.

“You should take that as a compliment.”

She walked off again.

Once he was beside her again, he said, “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m not married because I chose not to be,” she responded without breaking stride.

“None of the males here measure up?”

“No, I’m the one lacking. I’m educated and opinionated. Men don’t care for those qualities in a wife.”

Nick pondered that. It was true that many men were drawn to simpering, simpleminded women. He’d never been one who was, however. “You could be rid of me quicker were you to join me on Hades’ back and let us carry you home.”

“No thank you. And what kind of name is that for a horse.”

“It’s where I found him.”

“In Hades?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes. He was in the hold of a ship that had been set afire. We’ve been together since.”

“And this ship was where?”

“Off the coast of Bengal.”

“Bengal? India?”

“Yes.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Taking part in a mutiny along with hundreds of others impressed by the King’s navy.”

That made Faith stop and search his face in the moonlight. She’d heard horrible stories about men being impressed. When the British Navy ran short of sailors, the captains ofttimes had men abducted to fill the rolls. They took them from the docks, taverns, and in some cases right off the streets. The unethical policy added more fuel to the incendiary atmosphere between the colonial citizens and the crown. “I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.

“No need to apologize. You didn’t shanghai me. It was a way to see the world, even though I had no choice in the matter.”

Faith began to see him in a new light. She’d called him worldly this afternoon and realized she’d been correct. “I have never traveled beyond Massachusetts. What’s the world like?” she asked softly.