Rebellious Heart (26 page)

Mother would only seek after some other gentleman of means. And Susanna would be stuck again . . .

Unless she broke free.

If she could be brave enough to free Dotty, surely she could be brave enough to free herself.

They left through the smugglers’ tunnel at the first hint of dawn. Faint sunlight streaked the sky and the calm waters of the bay. The winter storm had finally blown itself out to sea and had left a crisp, bright day in its wake.

Ben rode next to Susanna on horses they borrowed from Mr. Arnold. After the sleepless night, she’d proven herself much stronger than Ben expected.

But finally after riding the fourteen miles north to Boston, she’d sagged in her saddle like a soggy gown out of the washing tub. When they rode into the city, she could hardly hold her head up or cling to the sidesaddle.

“Hang on, Susanna,” he said, leading her horse by the reins.

If
he
was exhausted, he could only imagine how bone weary she was.

They hadn’t seen any trace of Lieutenant Wolfe, even after stopping several times to warm their frozen limbs at wayside taverns. Their tracks in the freshly fallen snow—at least three inches of powder—would surely make it easy for the lieutenant to follow them if he’d wanted to.

But over the course of the day, the glances over their shoulders had only shown an empty road. Ben hoped the lieutenant had finally given up his need to find Dotty, that he’d just let her go. And he prayed Mr. Arnold had safely stowed the young woman in the bottom of the fishing vessel after they’d left, that nothing had gone wrong in rowing her to Crow Point.

Ben’s frozen feet slipped in the dirty gray slush that formed puddles on the cobbled street. He caught himself and filled his lungs with the crisp air that hinted of the sea. Now that they were away from the market and the wharves, blessed silence had replaced the calls of peddlers, the clatter of carriages, and the clamor of the farmers come to sell plucked turkeys, pumpkins, and cheese.

Ahead the looming mansions of Boston’s richest merchants rose up to tower over the waterfront city.

They were almost there.

The Cranch home, while not as imposing as some of the mansions of the Boston elite, was still an enormous brick structure that rivaled the Quincy mansion on Mount Wollaston.

Even if the day had been long and the travel wearisome, his heart was content for having conversed for hours with Susanna about
The Odyssey
and other books they’d both read. With each passing mile, his admiration for her brilliance had grown. When she’d shared her frustration once again at having been denied the same quality of education as her younger brother, he could finally begin to understand why. Her mind was no less capable than that of a man. Why should she be forbidden an education simply because of her gender?

He’d been able to understand why her dame school meant so much to her, that she was wanting to do her part in giving women a chance at bettering their minds and lives.

“Ben?” Susanna’s voice was groggy, and she began to slip from the saddle.

He lurched toward her, lifted her from the horse, and cradled her in his arms.

“I’m so tired.” She laid her head against his shoulder.

He’d been foolish to bring her along to Boston on a wintry December day. He should have made the trip by himself, given the last time he’d fled with her and the chill she’d developed as a result.

With a rush of worry propelling his steps, he strode the rest of the distance to the Cranch home, bounded up the steps, and banged the gleaming brass knocker on the paneled front door.

In a matter of moments, Cranch greeted them. His surprise at seeing them vanished in the shadow of Ben’s concern over Susanna. Cranch ushered them in and led the way to an upstairs bedchamber. Ben deposited Susanna onto the bed and was determined to stay with her this time. But Mary insisted that Susanna needed privacy, and Cranch guided him back downstairs to his father’s study.

Ben tried to explain their predicament to Cranch, who grinned. “Oh, sure. You can speak of being a decoy and trying to outwit Lieutenant Wolfe, but you can’t fool me, you old dog.”

A servant handed Ben a tankard of flip. Steam spiraled from it and brought the waft of nutmeg. He nodded his thanks and took a swig. The creamy liquid made a path down Ben’s throat.

Cranch leaned back in the desk chair, letting the front two legs rise from the floor. He crossed his arms behind his head and then propped his boots onto the large mahogany desk in front of him. “I know exactly why you came.”

The hollow slap of footsteps overhead drew Ben’s attention to the high ceiling, to the room where Mary was tending Susanna. “If I’d had my way, I wouldn’t have involved Susanna in this whole escapade.”

“Just admit it. You wanted the chance to sneak her out of her home and spend time with her away from Mrs. Smith monitoring your every move.”

Ben lowered his gaze to the window next to the desk. The glass pane overlooked the spacious snow-covered gardens at the rear of the house, and in the appearance of the late afternoon sunshine, the crystals of fresh snow glinted like a sea of brilliant gems.

The time with Susanna had been equally beautiful in spite of the hard travel. She was like a sparkling gem. And after spending the day with her, he couldn’t imagine ever meeting another woman whom he could converse with as readily or speak with as openly about subjects that were both interesting and important.

But if he’d ever thought to win Mrs. Smith’s favor and fall into her good graces, the day with Susanna had most certainly destroyed any sliver of hope.

“Mrs. Smith will murder me when she learns Susanna isn’t at Mount Wollaston, and that I’ve brought her to Boston instead. And if she doesn’t kill me, then she’ll surely ban me from ever seeing Susanna again.” At least when he returned Susanna to her home, he would be able to lay claim to the desire to see Mary and Cranch, even if that wasn’t the real reason for their foray.

“Yes, I can think of better ways to endear yourself to Mrs. Smith’s good favor besides abducting her daughter and then marching the girl through the snow and cold all day.”

Ben sat back in the chair he’d taken near the fireplace. His
shoulders sagged with fresh discouragement. “Don’t worry. I didn’t have Mrs. Smith’s favor to begin with. If she had her way, she’d toss me on the ground like carpet and wipe her feet on me.”

“I don’t think it really matters terribly much what Mrs. Smith thinks. Do you?”

“Of course it matters.” Ben took another gulp of the hot flip. “She wields a great deal of influence over Susanna.”

“Perhaps not as much as you believe. Susanna’s here, isn’t she? She obviously has a mind of her own and doesn’t want her mother telling her everything she should do and believe.” Cranch sat forward, letting the legs of his chair hit the floor with a thump. His eyes flashed with mischief. “Or perhaps she likes you enough to defy the wishes of her parents.”

“She might be saucy, but she won’t defy them when it comes to me.” She’d already proven she wasn’t willing to court him without their consent. “And I’m resigning myself to the fact that no matter how attractive I find Susanna, I’ll have to satisfy myself with friendship.”

“Friendship?” Cranch snorted a half laugh. “I’d like to see that.”

Ben started to shake his head.

But Cranch cut him off with another snort. “You won’t be able to maintain a platonic relationship with a woman you want to pull in your arms and kiss every time she steps near you.”

“I don’t want to kiss her every time.”

Cranch’s brow quirked. He dragged his feet from the desk and plopped them back to the floor. Then he reached for his tankard. He took a long drink, unable to hide his humor behind the tall mug.

They both knew how attracted Ben was to Susanna. There was no sense pretending otherwise, especially with Cranch.

“Perhaps I don’t want to kiss her
every
time I see her, but very close to that.”

Cranch swallowed his flip and then his grin spilled over again. “You mark my words, you’ll be married to her within six months.”

Ben shook his head. “I won’t pursue it. Not after I pledged to her that I would do my best to honor her request of friendship.”

Besides, didn’t he need to prove to himself that he was giving up his self-seeking ways when it came to a marriage partner?

For too long he’d believed he needed a suitable match in order to gain a reputation. He’d placed his hope in earning fame and prominence in the eyes of man. But he was finally beginning to understand his father’s admonition—the need to live with integrity, loving justice and mercy, and walking humbly with God.

With the dangerous course he’d embarked upon—defending the colonists against British oppression—he would likely face many difficult days ahead. If he chose to continue doing the right thing, he would have to sacrifice a great deal, including his reputation, fame, and fortune. He could very well become a wanted man, a criminal, a man condemned.

In fact, he had the feeling after yesterday’s chase he’d only made an enemy of Lieutenant Wolfe. And if the man had been dangerous before, he’d be even more so now. Nevertheless, Ben would take hope in the fact that the lieutenant’s days in Weymouth were numbered. He’d soon need to report back to his superiors in Boston his findings on the smuggling operations, which would amount to nothing if they were lucky.
And if they got even luckier, the general would send Lt. Wolfe back to England for his failure.

Even so, the days of easy smuggling were over. They would have to continually be alert for searchers like Lieutenant Wolfe and for collectors and comptrollers who would squelch their freedoms.

During the past several weeks the colonists had started carting some of the molasses from Plymouth to Boston overland and storing it in barns and warehouses, smuggling it into Boston however they could—in farm carts, in fishing dinghies, and even in the back of chaises. Ben suspected they would have to continue with such underhanded methods in the days to come.

As if sensing the turn of his thoughts, Cranch’s smile faded, and he sat forward. “Susanna Smith is the right woman for you, Ben. Together the two of you will set out to conquer all the injustices in the world.”

Ben met his friend’s serious gaze. They both knew involving any woman into their lives was risky, that should either of them be captured for their rebellious leanings, their families would surely suffer.

But Susanna had proven she was willing to face adversity. She wasn’t afraid of doing what was right in the face of injustice. Maybe she wasn’t completely won over to the cause of liberty for the colonies, but she was moving in that direction. He’d seen the shifting tides within her.

Ben expelled a sigh. “I’ve already pushed Susanna away once in my eagerness for her. And I cannot risk it again. As much as my entire being longs for more, I must resist. I shall endeavor to remain friends, and friends only.”

Susanna’s body sagged with exhaustion. During the short time they visited with Mary and Mr. Cranch in Boston, Susanna slept overlong—to the point of embarrassment. The harrowing escapade outrunning Lieutenant Wolfe had surely taxed her beyond her capacities.

Ben insisted on leaving the following morning, and Mr. Cranch provided them the use of his sleigh. On one of his errands about town, Ben had heard rumors of a smallpox outbreak in Boston. And although he didn’t know if the news was true, Ben was anxious to see Susanna safely home, declaring that after the influenza epidemic, he didn’t want to chance any further exposure to illness.

As delighted as Susanna had been to see Mary again, she was anxious to travel home and ensure Dotty was safely in Hingham and that no harm had befallen any of her family on account of her actions.

The return trip to Weymouth with Ben was a quiet one, and she slept most of the ride there. As the sleigh crunched to a stop in front of the parsonage, Susanna tried to blink away the drowsiness that wouldn’t let go of her, along with the headache that had plagued her for the last half of the trip.

She lifted her head from Ben’s shoulder and stifled a shiver, even though her body wasn’t cold. Ben had stopped several times to refill the warming box under her feet, and the pile of robes Mr. Cranch had sent along had more than adequately kept her comfortable.

In fact, she was overheated.

Ben jumped from the sleigh and lifted a hand to assist her down. She pushed the blankets aside and let the coolness of the air bathe her hot skin.

“Are you ready to face the firing squad?” He glanced at the
front window of the parsonage as if expecting her parents to storm outside with guns and swords.

Susanna’s gaze swept over the house, yard, and barn. From all appearances the home hadn’t suffered any more damage. Lieutenant Wolfe hadn’t come to seek revenge. She could only pray he hadn’t wrecked Mount Wollaston or hurt Grandmother Eve.

“Mother won’t be pleased with me.” If only she could take all the blame and save Ben from Mother’s wrath.

“Remember, you’ve done nothing for which you should be ashamed.” Ben’s outstretched hand waited for hers. “You’ve protected an innocent life from the hands of a brutal murderer.”

She placed her fingers into his, letting his strength soak through her skin. She looked into his eyes and allowed his clear honesty to infuse her with courage. No matter the consequences, no matter what happened, she’d done what was right. She couldn’t let fear slip back in and make her second-guess herself this time.