The Courier of Caswell Hall (32 page)

He cleared his throat. “We need something of you.”

She turned her head ever so slightly, her profile stunning in the moonlight. Why couldn’t he have found a courier who was elderly or plain or already married? Instead, he’d found the loveliest woman in all the colonies.

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this anymore. The next time he saw General Washington, he would insist they find someone else to courier messages out to Caswell Hall.

“What is it that you require?” she asked.

“We need information passed along to the men who have been staying in your house.”

“What type of information?”

He leaned closer to the gazebo. “There is a rumor that General Washington and his men are preparing to take New York.”

She inhaled sharply. “New York?”

“That is the rumor.”

“Ah,” she said, as if realizing his intent. “And so the British must send troops north.”

“In earnest,” he replied. “You must be subtle about this information but very clear.”

“I know not when our guests will return.”

“The timing will be perfect when they do.”

She straightened her skirt. “What if they do not return?”

“They shall,” he said. “Much of their army is preparing to winter at York, though the officers would probably prefer to winter here. I have heard your family has been quite hospitable to them.”

She sighed. “My father still believes our family will be given special treatment when the British win.”

“He will be most disappointed at the outcome of this war.”

“I fear we will all be disappointed in some way.”

“Perhaps.” He paused. “Will you do this?”

“When is the rumored date of this attack?”

He watched a light blink on the river and wondered if the officers would return here this night. “You have heard that Washington is preparing to attack New York immediately, before the armies in the South
can help defend the city. A fleet of French ships will be joining the Americans in their fight.”

She leaned back against the bench. “Where would I have received such news?”

“You must say that you heard it from Dr. Cooper.”

“Dr. Cooper?” she asked, startled.

“Aye.”

“Is our doctor a Patriot or a Loyalist?”

“I am afraid I cannot say, but you must use his name.”

“No matter.” She took a deep breath. “The doctor would never discuss such a thing with me.”

“What would he discuss?”

“I do not know—”

“Perhaps he is inquiring about Seth Hammond, to see if you have heard from him.”

She turned slightly, speaking over her shoulder. “I have heard nothing from Seth.”

“Then you may tell them that as well.”

“I will do as you ask.” She looked back toward the river and stood. “I am glad you have returned.”

“And I as well.” He balled his hands together, wishing he hadn’t replied. “I will check the orangery for your news.”

“And I will continue my evening strolls.”

From his hiding place, he watched her slip into the night.

Thomas Paine wrote about the high price people were willing to pay for what they valued, and the British paid dearly for their information. Dr. Cooper had worked hard to develop a reputation among their top ranks as a man knowledgeable about the workings of Virginia’s government and her defense. A few British officers believed Dr. Cooper to be a Loyalist willing to secretly sell information he learned from his patients—minor intelligence that proved to be reliable but not detrimental for Patriots.

What the British didn’t know was that the good doctor also sold them occasional—and critical—misinformation. If Lydia played her
part the officers would act quickly, and the doctor was prepared to verify her story to the British—for a fee. Information like this would not be valuable to them unless they were required to pay a hefty price.

If it worked—and he prayed it did—the British occupying Virginia would march north to defend their hold. If not, he didn’t know how much longer the Continental Army would survive. It would be a terribly hard winter for all of them.

Grayson pounded on the narrow door of the parsonage, and Sarah’s heart fluttered at his urgency. This man loved her just as she loved him. One day they could celebrate their marriage with her father and brother as well as the entire Caswell family. None of them would approve their marriage now, but she knew, more than anything she’d known before, that she and Grayson were to become husband and wife before the end of the war.

The Continental Army had departed this morning, leaving her and Grayson behind with a sympathetic family who had but one small room for them to share. They said he could sleep outside in the barn, but Grayson didn’t want to leave her alone. And she didn’t want to be left alone.

There were no candles lighting the windows at this late hour, but he persisted in his pounding.

“The hour is too late,” Sarah said, resting against the cradle of his arm.

“I know, my dear, but they will wake.”

She had waited for years to be his wife. If they must wait for a few more hours, it would be all right. “We could be married at first light.”

He glanced over at her and then pounded again.

Seconds later, the door cracked open. A sprightly man stood on the other side, the flame from a candle lighting his knobby nose and balding head. He wore a long nightdress, and his feet were bare. He examined them for a moment. “What is it that you need?”

“You must marry us,” Grayson said.

The slightest of smiles tugged at his lips. “I see. Perhaps we can discuss it on the morrow?”

“That is not possible,” Grayson insisted. “I fear the temptation is too great.”

Sarah almost laughed. A man as strong as Grayson could conquer any temptation—but the man she loved was in earnest.

The minister examined them both. “Where do you come from?”

“Williamsburg,” Grayson said. “We have known each other since we were children.”

“And yet you chose this very night to marry.”

“She has rescued me, you see, and I cannot let her go again.”

“What of your family?”

Sarah spoke. “My father is a commodore with the British army, and my brother is fighting alongside the Patriots.”

“And my father is a staunch Loyalist,” Grayson added.

The elderly man stroked his chin. “Ah, I see the conflict. What is your name?”

“Porter.” He hesitated. “Grayson Porter.”

The minister looked at Sarah. “And you desire this marriage as much as Mr. Porter?”

She smiled. “Perhaps more.”

The minister sighed. “Then I suppose I cannot put asunder what God has brought together.”

“Thank you, sir.” Grayson reached out and shook the man’s hand profusely.

“I must wake my wife as well.”

A shadow moved behind him, a soft but sharp voice speaking clearly. “I am already awakened.”

The minister turned to her. “Do you approve?”

Her silence was deafening, and Sarah feared for a moment that the minister might defer to his wife’s opposition.

Then she finally spoke. “I believe I do.”

Sarah sighed with relief.

The minister opened the door wide, and Sarah accompanied Grayson inside to become his wife.

Major Reed and two of his officers entered Caswell Hall just as the family was preparing to eat breakfast. Father welcomed them to their table, but Mother didn’t acknowledge their presence at all. It had become strangely routine to have these men come and go as they pleased. They no longer even knocked upon their arrival.

Hannah smiled at the major. “Welcome.”

He nodded toward her but didn’t return the smile.

Lydia sat at her place at the table. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, from anger at their audacity and from anxiety about what she must do. She hated the division these men caused in her family, but at least this time their presence might serve some good purpose. She would pass along Nathan’s message and be done.

The men scooted out chairs and sat with the family at the table. Before them were runny poached eggs and bread toasted too black. The huckleberry jam, Lydia had learned, hid much of the burnt taste. There was no butter, as they had no one to churn it.

The major eyed the food on the table. “Is there nothing else to eat?”

Mother bristled. “Not unless you care to utilize the kitchen.”

The major looked toward the doorway. “Where are your slaves?”

Father pressed his fork into a poached egg. He had already been working in the fields for several hours this morning. “Our cook and most of our other Negroes seem to have found refuge with your army.” He pointed at the remaining food with his fork. “This was prepared by a lady’s maid and our washwoman.”

“I see.” Major Reed reached for a piece of toast and began to slather it with jam. “There is nothing I can do to bring back your freed Negroes, but perhaps I could arrange for you to purchase new slaves.”

Lydia bit her lip, and it felt as if her skin might boil. How dare this man try to negotiate a sale with Father when he and his fellow officers had already taken so much from them?

Mother’s face turned a light shade of red. “Perhaps you gentlemen could discuss business after our meal.”

Major Reed gave a slight bow of his head. “Of course.”

The scent of fried bacon preceded Deborah, and the men looked toward the doorway as she entered. She set the platter of steaming meat on the table, and the men confiscated most of it.

Lydia glanced over at Mother and saw her lips pursed tightly together. Hunger must be a powerful motivator. Lydia tried to feel empathy for the men, but it was difficult to muster.

She reached for a piece of toast, eyeing the open doorway. Were the rest of his men in the hallway or waiting outside while the three officers ate?

“Will you be staying with us?” Hannah asked in the midst of clattering forks and knives.

“Aye,” the major replied.

Mother sipped her tea slowly and then set down her cup. “And how long should we expect your company this time?”

“Until we secure Virginia.”

Lydia dipped the knife into the jam and spread it on the burnt toast. Nathan said to be casual but intent in her delivery of his message. If it would lure these men away from Caswell Hall, she was even happier to deliver it.

Her eyes focused on the toast as she spoke. “When will you leave for New York?”

Major Reed shook his head. “We have no desire to return to New York.”

She chewed a bite of toast and swallowed. “I thought you might be defending it with the others.”

He chuckled as he lifted a piece of bacon, as if she were a young girl needing to be amused. “We have already secured New York.”

“Oh, what a relief.” Her breath slipped from her lips. “I’d heard there was to be an attack.”

“There is no attack.” Then he leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What exactly are you referring to?”

She gave the slightest of shrugs as she sat back in her chair. The less interested she seemed in the affair, probably the better. “I thought the Americans were preparing to invade the city.”

All the men turned toward her.

“Where did you hear such a thing?” Father demanded.

She took another bite of her toast before she replied. “At church on Sunday.”

Captain Moore leaned forward. “The Americans have already tried and failed to take the city.”

“That is exactly what one of the men said, but then another said they hadn’t tried before with the French.”

The major searched her face. “Who said this?”

“Well, I am not quite certain.” She sipped her water, making him wait. “There were some of the town’s shop owners.”

Major Reed pressed her. “Do you remember no one in particular?”

“I did not know it would be of any importance.” She tapped her fingers against the water glass. “There was one man—”

Chairs creaked as the men leaned closer. “Who was it?” Captain Moore demanded.

“I believe Dr. Cooper was among them.”

The major sat back in his chair.

“There have been other rumors about New York,” an officer said.

Major Reed glared at him. “Hush.”

Her glass clinked against the table. “Perhaps I heard wrong.”

“What else did they say?” Major Reed asked, his voice a steely calm.

She glanced up at the carvings on the plaster ceiling, pretending to think again.

“Something about the Americans attacking by land and then the French—”

“What about the French?”

“Why, they were going to attack by sea.”

He swore.

She shrugged again. “I thought you knew.”

Father pushed back his plate. “’Tis only a rumor.”

“Aye,” she agreed.

Major Reed’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. “We must be going.”

Mother set down her fork. “So soon?”

Lydia took a big bite of her toast to hide her smile.

“I fear so,” the major said.

“But what about the purchase of slaves—?” Father started.

Major Reed motioned for his men to follow. “That will have to wait.”

Their footsteps echoed back into the dining room as they stomped across the hall and then outside.