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Authors: Melanie Dobson

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BOOK: The Courier of Caswell Hall
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Her hand on the banister, Lydia glared at the man who had proposed to her in the garden. “Hannah must return to her room.”

Hannah’s eyes flashed. “You can hide behind your door, Lydia, but I will not.”

She ignored her sister. “Do you know how old she is, Major Reed?”

“Old enough to marry when others will not.”

Hannah placed her hand in the crook of Major Reed’s arm. With a swift nod toward Lydia, the major escorted Hannah toward the stairs. Then he turned and looked back at Lydia one more time, as if she might change her mind.

Would it keep Hannah safe if she did?

She doubted it, and she had no power over that man or Hannah. Her sister would never listen to her.

Lydia pounded on her parents’ chamber door until Mother answered.

A glass of Father’s Madeira sat on the stand beside Lady Caswell’s bed. Lydia eyed the drink as she sat on the window seat. She’d never seen her mother drink wine in her chamber.

Lydia drummed her fingers on the cushions beside her. “Where is Father?”

“In the fields,” Mother answered before taking a sip of the wine.

Lydia pointed toward the door. “Hannah is flirting with Major Reed, and unfortunately he is reciprocating.”

Mother set down her glass, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to marry the major?”

“No.”

Mother lifted her glass again to her lips. “Then it is for the best.”

Lydia clenched her fingers together. She knew how important peace was to her mother, but was she really willing to sacrifice one of her children for it? “It is not best for Hannah,” Lydia insisted.

“Major Reed will protect her and all of us.”

“You do not even like the man!”

Mother sighed. “It matters not who or what I like. What is best for our family is what is important.”

“Hannah mustn’t marry him. She is too young, and he is too—”

“Hold your tongue, Lydia.” Mother nodded toward the door. “Someone might hear you.”

Lydia folded her arms over her chest and lowered her voice. “You know he is not best for her or for our family.”

“I do not know anything anymore.”

The major might be kind to them as long as there was a hope for the future, but she wished her sister didn’t pine for the man, wished Hannah was merely playing this terrible game to protect their family. Unfortunately she had never known Hannah to bother herself by caring for another.

Footsteps pounded in the hallway, and Father rushed into the room.

Her heart sank at the look of distress on his face.

Father crossed the room and turned, continuing to pace as he spoke. “We have lost two more house servants and ten field slaves.”

Lydia leaned back against the glass panes. The loss of their remaining slaves would be a blow to Father as he prepared to harvest their crop.

“Perhaps Major Reed and his men will help you find them,” Mother said.

Father opened the door, and Lydia followed him down the main steps until he found the major with Hannah and the other officers in the drawing room. Major Reed looked up from his cards. “What is it?”

“I fear some more of my Negroes might have joined your army.”

The major tossed a card onto the table. “The king has permitted them to do so.”

“But I bought these men.”

Major Reed shook his head. “I understand, but there is nothing I can do.”

Father leaned back against the banister. “Who will harvest my tobacco?”

“Surely there are other workers you could hire.”

“All the younger men are off fighting.” Father stepped toward the door and then turned to look at Lydia. “Tell your mother that I will return.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To retrieve my Negroes.”

Outside the drawing room, she stopped him. “Hannah is consorting with Major Reed.”

“That is the only good news that I have had today,” he said before he retreated toward the front door.

“It is not good at all,” she muttered, but he had already left.

It seemed as if everything was upside down. Without this war, Father would never entertain such a match for his youngest daughter, but he was as desperate as Hannah.

Perhaps they were all desperate.

Some for victory. Some for peace. And some for freedom.

Father returned three nights later, while Lydia and Mother were upstairs stitching in the quiet. When the door to her parents’ room flew open, Lydia jumped.

“Charles,” her mother exclaimed, and she rushed forward, her arms open.

Father embraced her, holding her close.

Lydia looked away. She knew her parents loved one another, but she rarely saw affection between them. Mother’s tears demonstrated how much she loved her husband. That was what Lydia wanted, to love and to be loved.

“Did you find our slaves?” Mother asked.

He shook his head. “But General Cornwallis and his men have taken over Williamsburg.”

“Are the Pendells safe?” Mother sounded alarmed.

“Indeed. It seems the army is only resting before they march again.”

“How many soldiers are stationed there?” Lydia asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as her mother.

“Mr. Pendell said at least seven thousand.”

Lydia straightened the edges of her skirt. Did Nathan know there were so many?

“The number of soldiers is good news, is it not?” Mother asked.

“It is good for the king, but our plantation will not survive if we cannot get our crop in.”

It was too bad the soldiers couldn’t band together to build up the colonies and harvest the land.

“Someone in Williamsburg must know what happened to our slaves,” Mother said.

“I met with Cornwallis himself, but he said that hundreds of slaves have joined their ranks in the past month. I searched for two days, but I think our Negroes must have moved up north quickly.”

Mother sighed. “Did his men indicate when this war would end?”

Father shook his head.

“Surely the British could take over Virginia now,” Lydia said. She hated hounding her father for information, but she must find out what was happening, for the good of all of them.

“It may not be as easy as we once believed,” he said. “The French have sent more troops and ships to help the colonists.”

“The British must have more!” she insisted.

“They are not certain of it.” Father’s eyes grew worried again. “The Marquis de Lafayette is leading his men this way along with General Washington, but Cornwallis does not know how many soldiers they have.”

Laughter filtered in through the open window, and Lydia turned back toward her father. “If Cornwallis is in Williamsburg, why are Major Reed and his men still here?”

“They will not be needed until the battle begins.”

Lydia tried to steady her racing heart. She must get Nathan the news right away.

Lydia used the invisible ink to write her message, but delivering the letter was not as easy as she thought it would be. She’d attempted her delivery last night, but an officer had stopped her on the portico, begging her to dance.

She had concealed the message inside the pocket under her gown, and throughout the miserable dance, it felt as if it might burn a hole in the fabric. Nathan needed this information, and yet she could not continue to throw suspicion on herself by escaping while the others were entertaining themselves.

Most of the officers didn’t seem to think a woman could be smart enough to collect and share intelligence—and she would give them no cause to think otherwise—but Captain Moore continued to watch her closely.

As she finished breakfast this morning, the letter for Nathan remained in her pocket. Hannah hadn’t joined them for the meal, and many of the officers were already gone, patrolling the countryside by foot since most of the horses hadn’t been recovered.

After she stood, she spoke to her mother. “I shall cut flowers for the table.”

“Do fetch some English roses,” Mother instructed.

“Of course.”

Lydia picked flowers from the garden and then slipped around the side of the orangery. With her back to the building, she loosened the brick behind her and slipped the message inside. Once, she’d been afraid Hannah would find her secret, but the stakes were so much higher now.

She’d taken a few steps when a flash caught her eye. She turned, hoping it was Hannah. “Who’s there?”

An officer stepped out, and she caught her breath. She didn’t dare turn toward the orangery.

“You frightened me, Captain Moore.”

His eyes narrowed. “Only the guilty are easily frightened.”

She forced her eyebrows up in surprise. “Or those who are being stalked.”

“Major Reed might not think you are capable of treachery, but you do not fool me, Miss Caswell.”

“Are you accusing me of being a traitor?”

“Your actions have proved quite suspicious.”

An angry huff escaped from her lips. “You eat our food and drink our wine, and now you suspect me of what I do not know.”

“We would eat your food and drink your wine whether or not you allowed us.”

“We have been nothing but gracious to you, Captain.” She held up the flowers. “And now I must return to the house to help the servants
prepare a meal for you and your fellow officers tonight. Or would you prefer to eat our food without preparation?”

“You had best be careful, Miss Caswell.”

“And you had best be careful as well, Captain. Major Reed would not like to hear that you were harassing the woman he has asked to marry.”

A strange look crossed the man’s face. “The major proposed marriage to you?”

“He has.”

“And you have accepted?”

She swallowed. “I have considered it.”

“Then I suppose he is right. You are not nearly as smart as I first believed.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nathan waded through a riverbed along Virginia’s coast at twilight and swatted at the cloud of mosquitoes that bombarded his head. The mosquitoes had been following him since this morning when he hopped off the wagon of a fellow Patriot who’d transported him to the outskirts of Manassas.

Nothing would deter these mosquitoes, just as nothing would deter him from finding where the Continental Army had gone so he could deliver Lydia’s message. When he last left the army, soldiers were encamped in Connecticut, but in the tavern last night, he learned they were rumored to be along the shores of the Potomac River. He must deliver this message before they marched farther south.

He was tired of tramping across the colonies with no knowledge of where he would spend the night. He couldn’t imagine going back to his job as a business manager, but he would never again take for granted the benefit of a full stomach and a feather bed. One day he would like to have a home of his own and a family to return to at night. Perhaps even a wife like Lydia Caswell.

He never should have kissed Lydia in her garden three weeks past, even if it had only been on the cheek. It had been impulsive, and a man in his position couldn’t afford to be impulsive. Instead of clandestine meetings in the cornstalks, he wished he could return to her home in proper form and knock on the front door. If only she weren’t planning to marry Seth, he would wait until the end of this war and then ask her father for her hand in marriage.

With a quick slap, he killed a mosquito on his neck.

These long nights alone were clouding his heart and his mind. Once he was back among the officers and soldiers, surely his longing for Lydia would diminish.

He unrolled his blanket and settled under a tree for the night. At first light, he would continue his search for the army. If they marched south and attacked the British now, they would surely be defeated. He must stop them until they were able to wait for more soldiers and ammunition. The supplies he had stashed at the Hammonds’ would help, but there weren’t enough to defeat the army that was accumulating in Virginia.

After he built a small fire to ward off the mosquitoes, he pulled a linen cloth out of his haversack and ate a piece of salted beef and one of his hard biscuits.

His stomach rumbled.

When he found the army, the first thing he would request was fresh meat and some coffee. And perhaps he could purchase some fresh bread from one of the women.

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