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Authors: DiAnn Mills

BOOK: Love’s Betrayal
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Perhaps my weakness has changed his heart for me. Even worse, perhaps God may no longer feel I'm worthy of His favor.

Again the inner voice pricked her spirit.
“I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

Oh Father, I am so sorry. Please forgive me and lead me in the right paths.

A tear slid down her cheek, and she shook her head to dispel the host of emotions flowing through her: remorse, regret, guilt. She prayed God's incredible love would ease the pain she had caused.

“What is it, darlin'?” Henry brushed the tear from her face. “I didn't mean to inflict the pain I see in your eyes. I had no right to ask ye about your own relationship with the Lord.”

She swallowed her tumultuous mental anguish, wanting to speak clearly. “But you had every right, for I know your inquiry arose from love for me. I am sorry for what I said to you earlier. I—I despise my stubborn nature. Far too often, I believe I have the correct answers and must be in control of my destiny.”

His demeanor softened, revealing a contrite man. “Me Delight, ye are in the presence of a self-righteous man. God must forever be humbling me.”

She paused, wondering how much she could speak her mind without risking Henry's possible rejection.

“Go ahead, My child. Tell him your heart.”

“I want to be your wife,” she said. “I was afraid before. I thought if I lost you in the war, it wouldn't hurt as badly. I despise my harsh words. They were all lies. Please forgive me.”

He opened his mouth, but she covered it with her fingertips. “You are so good and kind to me, more than I deserve. Aye, perhaps a little self-righteous at times.” She smiled and bit her lip to keep from weeping. “But, if you will have me, I will marry you this very hour.”

He gathered up the fingers caressing his lips and kissed them lightly. “I accept your humble proposal.” He slipped his hand around her waist to the small of her back and drew her close. “I love your free spirit, and I love your determination. With God's help, we will have a beautiful life together. Ye are my delight from the Lord. With ye beside me, God has given me the desires of me heart.”

She whisked away a tear. “But I can be bitter and relentless.”

“Aye, so can I, but we are sweet as honey together.” His lips were but a hair span from hers, and in the next instant he sealed his words. When at last he pulled from her, he held her close, so close she could hear his heartbeat. He released a heavy sigh. “Indeed I'm a self-centered man, basking in the presence of my beloved when Charity and James may be in grave danger.”

“What are you going to do?” She carefully chose her words to separate herself from the solution.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I think we should move around the trees and the town to your home. Once everything looks clear and dusk has set in, I will send ye to your mother so she can see ye are well and safe.”

“And James?”

“Let us pray he is in seclusion and that God will protect him.”

Hand in hand, they moved just inside the thicket of trees, wary of the sights and sounds around them and coaxing the sun to set. Speaking in whispers and only when necessary, they edged around Chesterfield, ever mindful of the soldiers in their red coats. From all appearances, the British looked to search every house in the small town.

“Are ye praying?” Henry said as they watched soldiers dismount at a home across the way from Uncle Matthew and Aunt Anne's whitewashed two-story.

“With all my might.”

“I wish I could do something instead of observe. This is a helpless feeling.”

“What is God telling you?”

He squeezed her hand. “He is in control. I believe I'm proceeding as He desires.”

Chapter 20

T
wilight painted the sky in colors of rich amber fading into deep blue. Another day finished, yet tasks haunted Henry with their lack of completion. Delight and he rested beneath a knoll on the hard, cold ground while waiting for darkness to completely settle. Twice they had observed soldiers coming and going at the Butler household. Neither time did the redcoats bring anyone out, leading Henry to believe James had secured safety. Charity either remained in the home or had fled with him. He preferred the latter possibility, since his friend had received serious injuries and could not yet be fully recovered.

He glanced at Delight, her face etched with exhaustion and her recent recovery from the fever. She needed to be sitting beside a warm fire and out of the cold air before she fell prey to the illness again. He wrapped his arms around her in hopes of keeping her warm.

Oh Father God, please heal those around me who are fighting disease and injury. Give us all strength and courage in these difficult times.

“I'd like for you to enter your home from the front,” he said, hating to be apart from her but knowing her health came foremost. “I doubt if the soldiers plan to return this evening.”

She snuggled into the hollow of his shoulder. “I would rather be here with you, but those inside might need a helping hand. And certainly Mama and Charity share worrisome thoughts about us.” She did not say a word about his possible imprisonment if captured, and neither did he. “Charity may need comfort, too.”

“Quite possibly. If I will not endanger your family or James with my presence, pass a candle three times at the rear. I'll arrive shortly. If there is trouble—”

“There shan't be.” She rose from her crouched position and massaged the small of her back.

Henry tugged on her arm, pulling her back down beside him. He stole a kiss, then grinned. “So ye won't forget me.”

“There is no likelihood of that happening.” Her face sobered, and for a moment he thought she would weep. “Be wary.”

“'Tis my true name, Wary O'Neill.” He chuckled with his teasing.

She tilted her head. “Aye, your mother named you properly.”

With those words, she moved across the field at a brisk pace. “You take heed,” he whispered after her. Henry scrutinized the surroundings, ready to defend his beloved if necessary. One day they would have a delightful life together. He smiled at his word choice.

The windows were already shuttered, barring Delight any view of the goings-on inside her home. Although she wanted to believe nothing was amiss, caution guided her steps. A peculiar sensation played with her mind, as though danger lurked about. She shrugged away the feeling, attributing it to her recent fever.

I promised Papa I would avoid dangerous situations, but dire straits seem to follow me wherever I go. As Papa protected me from Grace years ago, my heavenly Father will protect me and my loved ones now.

Every step became a prayer. She hesitated, listening intently for God's voice warning her to return to Henry. But she heard nothing, only felt the eerie chill at her nape.

Delight lifted the latch and slipped inside the front door as Henry had instructed. She heard the low hum of voices, not the expected laughter from her sisters. Normally Mercy and Hope would be playing. Of course they could be reading scripture or praying or practicing their letters. Or the uneasiness racing through her might mean something truly frightening.

From the darkness a hand seized her upper arm. “You must be the one we've been waiting for.”

She gasped and struggled to free herself. “Sir, let me go!”

“Not until you answer a few questions.” He gripped her tightly and squeezed, but she refused to cry out. “I believe we have our prize,” he called out. Intensifying his hold, he pulled her toward the kitchen and a crackling fire.

At the sight of her mother's anguish-ridden face and the protective way she cradled Elijah, Delight experienced a mixture of anger and compassion unlike anything she'd ever known. “Mama.” The word fell from her lips without thought.

“There is no need to treat her cruelly,” Mama said, rising to her feet and cradling baby Elijah in her arms. Her carriage would have rivaled that of the king.

The soldier holding Delight, a pasty-looking fellow, sneered at her mother and intensified his hold. “I will consider letting her go when she responds properly to my questions.”

Delight winced. “I am fine, Mama. Do not worry.” She quickly glanced about the room. One other soldier and two men sat about the room. Their muskets and bayonets lay within easy reach, stacking the odds against Henry. Her sisters huddled together, frightened and pale, while indignation soared through Delight. But Charity, where was she?

Her gaze flew to a corner. James was propped against a wall with Charity beside him. In the next breath, she saw he'd been gagged. No doubt, he had been quite verbal.

“We're looking for Henry O'Neill,” the pasty soldier spat out. “The deserter has our gunpowder.”

“And you think I know where he is?”

“Your kind neighbor, Mistress Rutherford, said you left with him. Lass, do your family and your country a valued service and tell us where to find him.”

That insufferable woman! To think I once sat beside her at the meetinghouse, believing she could be won over with Christian kindness.
Delight stiffened. “If I did know his whereabouts, I would not tell the likes of you.” For a moment, she thought the soldier would strike her.

“There is a reward, you know,” another soldier said.

Fury burned across her heart. “I have no need of your money.”

The soldier who appeared to be in charge pushed her toward her mother. “Then wait with the others. He will return, and we're sure of it. He'd not leave a lass as pretty as you without a farewell.”

She caught her balance and seated herself by Remember and Faith. Patience looked to be on the verge of fainting. Delight offered a reassuring smile to her sisters before replying to the soldier. “He is most certainly miles from here by now.”

“We will soon know for sure,” the soldier said. “I've been enjoying the fair lasses of this household. No wonder O'Neill sought to ignore his duty.”

Disgusting pig. Don't you dare touch one of my sisters. Oh God, forgive me. I know that Thy presence is here—and that Thou art in control. I am trusting Thee in this. Please tell me how to proceed.

A man shifted nearby to stare at her. He smelled of dirt and sweat, and his malevolent smile sickened her. As he rubbed the side of his jaw, she saw it: the brand of a thief.

The wicked men who had tried to kill James had found him again. Not only did revenge rule their motives, but also the deserter's fee from the British. God help them all against their enemies.

She peered at Charity and James. From what she could see, he looked considerably better than at their parting, and Charity appeared well. What ideas were rumbling through their heads?

Several long minutes passed. A plan began to emerge from Delight's frenzied mind. She prayed it came from God and not from her driving passion to take care of her loved ones.

“This is all your doing.” She turned to Charity.

Her sister blinked, obviously confused.
Please, Charity, this is a game. Henry will not stay away from the house forever. He will sense the trouble within and try to help. Hopefully, he can hear my voice and be alerted to what awaits him inside.

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” Delight flung at her sister.

“Whatever do you mean?” Charity stiffened.

“Hush,” Mama said. “You will wake the baby.”

“The baby is not my concern.” Delight hoped her insincere remark—a long measure from her deep love for the wee babe—revealed her intentions. “She,” and she pointed to the figure snuggled next to James, “played me for a fool.”

“This is not the time to discuss such matters,” Mama said, flashing her a bewildered look.

“I demand quiet,” the soldier who had pained Delight said. His brow wrinkled in annoyance.

“Oh, you do?” She peered into the face of the disgusting, pasty-faced soldier. “None of us would be here against our will if not for my shameless sister.”

One of the other redcoats chuckled. Well, he would surely be entertained this evening.

“You are merely angry because I outwitted you,” Charity said, louder than Delight had ever heard her sister speak.

Her sister's twist encouraged Delight. “I took you at your word. Why are you there with James after all you've done?”

Charity lifted her nose and linked her arm with James's. “He is hurt, and I am making certain he is nursed properly.”

“Nursed? Like you did poor Henry, filling him full of lies about your affections for him?”

“'Tis not Henry's fault he found me more desirable than you.”

I love you, sister. Help me continue this charade.

“Enough,” the lead soldier said, “or I will gag the both of you.”

“How dare you threaten me?” Delight attempted to stand, but Patience and Faith held to her arms. Remember clasped her hands together, no doubt in prayer for the scene unfolding before her.

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