The Heavens Shall Fall (12 page)

“
Rebekah, you need to eat. I will send for a tray.”

She looked up at him.
“I am not hungry. I believe I need only to sleep.”

“
You need to look after your health,” he said firmly. “Let’s change you into something more comfortable.”

He called for her maid, but only to have a semblance of lunch sent up to their room. He helped her change and made her comfortable,
fluffed her pillows and pulled the covers about her.

She lay back
and reached for his hand. He took it tenderly and placed it against his lips.

“
Know that we will survive this. It may not stop the pain, but perhaps it will lessen, knowing you are loved.”

Their gazes met and locked. It seemed a tide of emotion swept through her. Tears streamed down her face. He took her in his arms and rocked her.

“Do you remember Philadelphia? I cannot but help recall the young girl with large, telling eyes following me around during my schooling. It may have been my own arrogance, but I thought that you had feelings for me then.” He prompted. “I realized you would outgrow the adoration of youth, but when I saw you again and you turned my offer of help down, I was shocked. I thought you would have welcomed me. Instead, you turned from me.”

“
I thought it was for the best.”

“
But I didn’t leave. I may have wanted to at the beginning. You made me so angry. You are a stubborn woman, my love.” He kissed the top of her head. “You believe I married you because of our families. Duty and honor. It was what I told myself at first, but I was wrong.

“
I can’t tell you everything I’m feeling. It would be an impossibility. I know only my heart. You scared me. I didn’t want to feel again. I told myself I didn’t believe in love, not after Catherine. I thought perhaps it was me. I have failed so many people. I failed my father, Catherine…Hannah. It burns in me that Catherine betrayed Hannah in the manner she did. Spite. Malice.”

He drew in a deep breath, but he could not stop. He had never talked of his sister to Rebekah
in this manner. But once the floodgates had been opened, the words would not be halted.

“
The guilt gnaws at your soul until there is a void that cannot be filled. I hold guilt about Hannah. She should never have been allowed to go to New York. I should have stopped her. I should have been there.

“
Instead, she almost died because of Catherine. Hannah went to New York after our father’s death for revenge, to search for the leak in the network that cost our fathers their lives. It was dangerous. The network suspected my grandfather, a Loyalist. Hannah infiltrated their ranks and discovered the leak, Joseph Gannon, my father-in-law!

“
He escaped to New York, furious of being found out. Catherine must have overheard me arguing with one in the network. She sent word to her father that it was Hannah who was the spy. He almost killed her…he and Georgie Boy. It is why I knew what Georgie Boy was capable of doing...

“
It seems that while in New York, Hannah accepted the protection of a British officer, Marcus Durham. From what I understand, she became his mistress and even prepared to leave with him for England. When Gannon attacked her, the network rescued her. Then they negotiated with the British. The network couldn’t allow Hannah to leave. She knew too much.

“
The British…Durham wanted her. I imagine for propaganda reasons, but she was also expecting Durham’s child. A compromise of sorts was put into place. Hannah stayed on British-occupied soil, but in a small village outside of New York—Setauket. She was no longer a threat to the British. Her son, Seth, was born there. It was agreed that the child remain with Hannah.

“
She has since married a store owner, Giles Cooper, and has another child. She is content, but worries that Durham searches for his child. She fears he will take her son, even with the agreement.

“
I tell you this for a reason. This Marcus Durham is now a general in the British army. He is thought to be here in the South. If…if Charles Town falls back into British hands, you must promise me to stay away from the man. He is dangerous, Rebekah. I know him personally. I met him in Williamsburg. He is the one responsible for William’s and Father’s deaths and…Rebekah, I fear your father also.

“
Promise me,” he said fervently. “You will stay away from him if the worst comes to hand.”

“
I promise,” she said in a soft, soothing voice. “I will not dishonor you, Jonathan. I won’t be a burden upon you. I won’t.”

Jonathan calmed himself
, dismayed he had allowed his emotions to spill forth. Suddenly, he felt her hand upon his face.

“
Do not let me be a worry upon you, Jonathan. I will survive as long as I have you.”

His hand covered hers.
“This is what you do, you know. You comfort others before yourself. In some fashion, I don’t think you understand the depth of my feelings for you.

“
You gave me back my life when I had nothing but a hardened heart wrapped in anger, rage, and hatred. You made me remember…remember the reason I fight.”

“
Oh, Jonathan,” she cried. A tide of sorrow broke forth. “I’m…I’m so…so sad. It is my fault.” She choked back tears. “It is my fault.”

“
No, my love,” he said in a gentle tone. “It is life. We will mourn and grieve for our child and then continue on…together.”

He laid her back down on her pillow and eased in beside her.
He wrapped his arms about her and whispered, “Sleep. I will be here.”

April 24, 1780

Early in the morning, General Henry Clinton called Marcus in for a meeting. It was a glorious day. Birds sang and flowers bloomed. Marcus’ mood was reflected in his step. The progression to reclaiming Charles Town was within their grasp.

Over the last few months, Marcus had painstaking
ly gathered information from the area, and helped Clinton in his attempt to capture his prize, the prize that had slipped through Clinton’s hands two years previous.

His men had done an excellent job
; Elliot and Leckie had proved invaluable. When Andre arrived, he had become useful himself. Marcus hadn’t questioned Andre’s abilities, but to infiltrate behind enemy lines as a backwoods man, Marcus doubted Andre would have blended in with the people. Marcus had been proved wrong.

Marcus acknowledged
the sentry as he walked up to the general, who had positioned himself outside his tent to see his ships begin their daily bombardment of the city’s siege lines. He looked through his eyepiece, and gave no greeting to Marcus.

General Clinton winced while the twenty-four pounders commenced its daily bombardment on the siege lines. For two hours, the cannons would fire, wearing on the nerves o
f the occupants. The Continental Army had fortified the city well behind thick walls of timber and canals dug stretching across from the Cooper and Ashley.

Marcus observed in silence. From his view, he saw gunners expand their targets. Mortars fired along with fire carcasses. Flames flared upward toward the sky from house tops. In the distance, he could hear the bells of St. Michael and St. Phillip
’s ring out.

Clinton slammed his eyepiece down on the ground.
“Damn!” He turned to Marcus and gestured for Marcus to follow him into his tent. “I swear, if the city still stands after our assault, I will be amazed. How absurd will it be to burn a city you mean to occupy!”

Marcus ducked in
to the temporary headquarters behind Clinton. “It will not be much longer.”

Clinton nodded.
“But of course. It is only I have grown impatient.”

Marcus understood. Clinton had been ultraconservative in his strategy, but it was one Marcus felt that would soon pay off.

“You have news?” Clinton looked down at one of the maps littered across the table. Marcus recognized a man obsessed, double-checking each detail.

“
Everything is at hand. As I foretold, even though the line for escape is collapsing around them, I do not think the Patriots will try to leave.”

“
Foolish! I cannot believe Lincoln would make such a mistake. Why, if it is as it stands now, it spells disaster for their cause. It is why I question your intelligence. Are you certain there will be no surprises?”

Marcus sighed deeply.
“I have faith in my information, General. Rest at ease.”

“
It’s those damn Rebels. Did you hear them in the wee hours of the morning?”

Marcus nodded. He doubted there would have been many
who hadn’t heard their noisy arrival. There was little that could be done to stop the unit that sailed down the Cooper River. The Virginians had taunted their enemy along the way, joyous to have come to defend their city. The city bells pealed until the sun rose over the horizon, along with continuous rounds of cannon fire.

“
If I’m not mistaken, they are reinforcements from Virginia. That is, if my information is correct. I heard their ranting and celebrating sneaking into the city as they did, but do you not feel it will be short-lived? It was only a unit at best. It will do little except dwindle their limited supplies.” Marcus shrugged. “I can assure you, General Clinton, it was only because their morale is so low. Good news has been sparse for those within the city.”

“
I will confess your information has been accurate so far.”

“
It is what you commanded to set the way to take back Charles Town. You wanted the city intact. I believe you will be pleased.”

“
General Prévost was correct. Your work has been invaluable.”

Marcus nodded. It was what he did. He had done it in Williamsburg. Infiltrated the locals, discovered the lay of the land. He had done the same here in the South.

He would have to concede it was harder here to grasp the world in which they lived, but he had done so. He had the feeling that most Southerners would have been content without the war. They had enough worries about their safety with the Indian attacks. Slave insurrection, also, weighed heavily on the minds of the elite.

With that knowledge came the comprehension
, in most of the colonies, there were three accepted types of men here in the South: staunch Patriots, steadfast Loyalists, and those who only wanted to survive the war. But Marcus realized there was a fourth type.

The type that was of the utmost importance
to his mission—the opportunist—the man whose loyalty was based on which side offered him the best advantage. Greed had always been a highly motivational force. Marcus had found one within Charles Town who had been most useful.

“
I believe we have seen the extent of Theodore Landor’s reach,” Marcus acknowledged.

Landor had not been a hard man to turn. Marcus quickly read a man bent on seeing to his own needs. A man readily turned to what could better him
; a man whose loyalty was only to himself. Marcus had learned long ago that at times you had to play with the devil.

Intelligent enough
to follow Marcus’ instructions, Landor had done well as he incited a passionate response to those in charge. Gadsden and Rutledge led on emotion. Subtle whispers against the haughty North, dictating how to fight the British.

Their rules and regulations for our militia!
What did they know of their country and land? To dare tell us to create black regiments! We will be killed in our beds!

Marcus had come close to having the city turned over to his hands last year when Pr
évost threatened Charles Town. If they had had only another day or two, Landor would have convinced those in charge to surrender. It had almost happened.

But Marcus hadn
’t pressed. Now, patience had paid off. Marcus felt he had insight into the lay of the structure of the city. It would prove invaluable when they finally occupied the city. It was of the utmost importance to maintain the value of the port.

“
In the latest report I received,” Marcus continued, “it indicates that their nerves are strained. Hunger is also being felt within the streets. Governor Rutledge has finally heeded Lincoln’s warning and left the city, but most remain, including Lieutenant Governor Gadsden.

“
Although McIntosh strove to have Lincoln evacuate the city, it is thought that Lincoln has relented to the whims of Gadsden and Rutledge. I, myself, questioned my information, not daring to hope that it could well hold true, but I believe we will have a victory to rival our loss at Saratoga.”

“
I feel it too, General Durham. It is beyond me that Lincoln sacrificed his good judgment to satisfy those idiots, but with each day, the escape hatch is sealing. I believe it is beyond the point where retreat is an option.”

“
It will be a glorious victory, General.”

Marcus smiled. All was in place. Charles Town was doomed to fall
, and would soon be in their hands once more.

Moreover, his intelligence gave him hope. For not only would it hand the Americans a devastating defeat, he had been told that Doctor Jonathan Corbett would be among those trapped. With that information, it gave him an opportunity to discover the whereabouts of Hannah and perchance his child.

Oh, yes, it was a glorious day.

* * * *

It was over. Guns silenced. Truce terms had been settled. Charles Town had been lost; the city surrendered.

Jonathan had been constantly by General Lincoln
’s side through most of the last few weeks—through the negotiations and the reality they had lost. The general agonized about the decision. The man had become a shadow of his former self: sad, sunken eyes, pale, thinner with a gloom that enveloped his being.

Jonathan had held out hope and prayed for a miracle
, until Fort Moultrie fell on May 7th. Worry and hunger strained the nerves of the inhabitants, knowing it was only a matter of time. It had come. Over five thousands soldiers laid down their arms.

Standing in the brilliant sunlight
, alongside of the others within General Lincoln’s staff, Jonathan heard the British drums, fifes, and oboes play “God Save the King” before he saw the mass of Redcoats. A huge British flag waved in the breeze as the victors entered into Charles Town through the hornwork gate.

General Lincoln had given Jonathan permission to withdraw when Governor Rutledge left. Jonathan stayed. He would face the defeat beside his commander. He would not leave Rebekah.

At least, Rebekah had listened well to him over the last few weeks. She had obeyed all of his instructions and had not varied from them. Scared, he was certain, for his welfare, more than her own.

Spectators lined both sides of King Street. Rebekah would not be among them. Katy had urged her friend to come with her to
the ceremony, but Rebekah understood the magnitude of the surrender. Instead, she stayed at home with Esther and her sons to await news of their fate. Both expected that their possessions would be confiscated.

Daniel and Paul had long left the Charleston harbor. To their good fortune, none of their ships had been lost. To their credit, they had taken with them the essential information of the business. Unfortunately, Rebekah still lived within the boundaries.

He took some comfort that once the British settled into the city that it would be easier for her to leave. He did not believe after the British confiscated all their properties, they would force her to remain.

“
Do not fear for me, Jonathan,” Rebekah assured him for the brief time he had seen her in the early afternoon. “I will not venture from this house. I will do as you have told me and wait. I will endure whatever is in front of me. I care not what they take as long as at the end of all of this I’m with you again.”

He forced a smile.
“Remember, I expect I will be held for a time. Do not try to come and see me. Arrangements and negotiations will have to take place for General Lincoln and his staff. General Lincoln expects that we will be taken to New York, then Philadelphia and eventually exchanged.”

She nodded.
“I know. I will hold to faith that by the time you are released, I will be in Williamsburg.”

He tilted
his head to the side, reached down and brought her chin up to look into her eyes. “You realize that you will be only a simple doctor’s wife.”

“
It is all I have ever wanted to be,” she said. Her eyes searched his quite openly and honestly, quoting from the book of Ruth. “Entreat me not to leave thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.”

His gaze moved over her in a subtle caress.
“We will be happy there, my love. I want nothing more than for you to love it as I do. And the children will be waiting for us.”

Tears welled in her eyes; her lips trembled.
“It sounds heavenly. I live for that moment.”

“
As do I.” He kissed her lightly on her lips. He did not look back when he left her or he would not have gone.

He had lied to her.
While General Lincoln had expressed his opinion that he and his staff would be pardoned and exchanged, it was not all. He was part of Lincoln’s staff, but he had made too many enemies among the British. He had been warned the British would not go easy on him.

Jonathan watched the conquering army march into the streets. General Henry Clinton entered on horseback
, victorious, surrounded by his generals and staff. Quickly, Jonathan’s sharp eyes caught sight of Marcus Durham. It made his stomach turn.

Behind them rode Greencoats. Jonathan had heard about those dreaded cavalry men le
d by the barbarous Colonel Banastre Tarleton, Bloody Ban. Despite the sunny skies, Jonathan felt darkness envelop him.

Comprehension of the situation sank deep into him. It was a military disaster! Five thousand soldiers laid down their arms, muskets and fowlers
, and cartridge boxes. The militia signed a parole that stated they would not take up arms again against the British. The Continentals would be confined to the barracks. Some would be taken to Haddrell’s Point; others would be moved to the dreaded prison ships.

It was a dark hour for the cause of Freedom.

* * * *

Jonathan sat at a desk. He had been kept in isolation since being led to this room. He had only seen
a British sentry and a major, Major John Andre. He hadn’t expected less. He hadn’t asked his fate nor did anyone offer the information.

Major Andre wanted to confirm Jonathan was who they thought he was.
Andre was intimidating and shrewdly manipulating. He taunted Jonathan unmercifully, but Jonathan wouldn’t play his game. Jonathan refused to talk. He hadn’t seen anyone since.