War of Hearts, A Historical Romance (11 page)

Sarah let out an unladylike snort. “Well, at
least I’m the first for something.”

Understanding slowly dawned on his face.
“You’ve never? I mean, I just assumed…”

She shrugged it off. “It doesn’t
matter.”

“Well of course it matters, if I had
known…”

“I’m fine. I’ve never been more fine.” She
sniffed, wiping her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I…”

Sarah turned to face him fully. “No. It is I
who am sorry. I need to tell you something. Something important,
but I’m afraid.”

“What are you talking about? Why would you
be afraid of me?”

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.
And I owe you that. Your brother Robert is alive.”

Confusion spread across his handsome face.
“Robert? You know my brother?”

“Yes, I worked with him for over a year. I’m
a nurse,” she added proudly.

“You must be mistaken. Robert joined the
Continental Army,” he said, sitting up straighter.

She smiled sadly. “I know.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.”

“You’re a traitor too?” he asked with
bitterness in his voice.

“I prefer the term patriot. This is my
country. How can you just sit by and watch it torn asunder and not
do anything?”

“I do not stand idly by. I risk my life
transporting goods in service to the King.”

She snorted. “Oh yes, bringing toiletries to
the loyalist is quite an effort. To think your brother is half dead
from starvation while these pigs gorge themselves daily.”

“Robert is ill?”

“Robert is as well as anyone in camp. He
would rather die than to beg for scraps from the King’s table. He
toiles daily trying to make a difference, trying to keep men alive,
and I admire him.”

Robert had always been the good son; his
running off had been the only shocking thing he had done in his
life. Now here was Sarah, spouting him praise. It was too much, and
he lashed out bitterly. “Did you lay with him too?”

“Only by the grace of God have I remained
pure until tonight. My father thought like you do, he was a
peaceful man. Do you know what peace gets you? Dead,” she replied,
answering herself. “I can still smell the smoke from when the
soldiers came. Their uniforms were the color of blood. They killed
my father first, ran him through with a bayonet. Didn’t wanna waste
a shot. Then they went after my mother & me. She died trying to
save me. Only my brother and I lived. He was hell bent on joining
the army, and I followed him.”

“You said Silas was dead.”

Sarah sighed. “Yes, he fell at
Princeton.”

“And you stayed with the Rebels?”

“I had no one else. And, and they needed me.
My country needed me.”

“I don’t understand, what about your aunt?
Why didn’t you and your brother come to New York to live?”

“I don’t have an Aunt Margaret; it was a
rouse to get me into the city. Robert was dead set against me
coming, but he said I should contact you if I should ever need
help.”

Tristan shook his golden head. “So you came
here to what? Spy?”

“Yes, but I’m not very good at it.”

“I’ll say, I’m pretty sure you aren’t
supposed to be telling people.”

“Well it is all moot now. I have another
purpose. Do you know Gabriel’s brother, Jonathan?”

Tristan frowned. “Of course. Why, is he a
spy too?”

“No, he’s a prisoner on board the
Kitty
.”

Tristan frowned. “How do you know that?
Gabriel hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

“Why would he? You’re a bloody Tory,” Sarah
retorted.

“Why did he tell you?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure I should
say.”

Tristan shook his head. “It’s a little late
to be wondering if I’m trust worthy.”

Sarah lifted her head high and stared into
his eyes. “I would gladly risk my own life, it is the others’ lives
I will not risk.”

“This is the oddest after romp exchange I
have ever had,” Tristan murmured, falling back on the bed. “Are you
planning on killing me while I sleep?”

“No, do you plan on hanging me as a
spy?”

“No,” Tristan said, grabbing her and pulling
her under the sheets next to him. He tucked her in with her back to
his chest and held her in place with his arms.

“Enough talk,”

Sarah frowned but soon found her eyelids
drooping; it had been a long day.

Breakfast was a very odd affair. Sarah had
woken to a burned out fire and empty bed. Her stomach rumbled, so
she washed and dressed, half expecting to see the hangman waiting
for her as she descended the stairs.

Last night seemed more like a dream than
reality. If she were not so sore, it would have been a compelling
case. Tristan and the Colonel were at the table and she greeted
them, accepting her poached egg from Cecilia.

“Did you sleep well?” the Colonel asked with
a twinkle in his eye.

Sarah glanced across at Tristan, whom was
trying to hide a grin.

She assumed that Tristan did not reveal her
indiscretion. Does that mean he would help her? Not turning her in
was one thing, aiding her was a different matter.

“Yes, thank you for asking. I’m sorry for my
outburst yesterday. My heart is still heavy, but perhaps a dance is
exactly what I need.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Ryan hustled in a second later, slightly
disheveled. “News my Lord,” he held out a crumpled bit of
parchment. The Colonel wiped his mouth and hands on a napkin before
accepting it.

He glanced at the letter and frowned,
studying it. “My pardons, I need to go, Washington just took
Monmouth in New Jersey.”

Sarah feigned shock and took a sip of juice
to hide her smile. She looked over to find Tristan watching her
curiously.

“Thought they were half dead,” he murmured
quietly.

“Nothing gives you more strength or courage
than believing in a cause. What do you believe in?” she
retorted.

Tristan was silent as Cecilia appeared to
clear the table. He stood and went to assist Sarah from her seat.
Taking her arm he led her out the back door. Once they were in the
garden he spoke.

“Do you know what a dangerous game you are
playing?”

“This is not a game, I am not a child,” she
spat out, wrenching free from his grasp.

“You cannot expect to complete your task on
your own. You will need help.”

“Will you help me?”

Tristan shook his head, his hair glinting
like gold in the sunlight. “Do you know what you are asking?”

“I am asking you to make a choice. To choose
sides, to make a stand. I don’t believe you are holding out for the
higher bidder. And you don’t seem like a man to choose the easy
path.”

Tristan sighed, looking away from her
determined eyes. “What do you need?”

“I need a ship.”

“And what do I receive in return?”

Sarah reached into her pocket and pulled out
her coin pouch. “It is all I have.”

“I ask not for money,” he said pulling her
closer. He ran his thumb along her jaw line, lifting her face up to
his. She closed her eyes as his meaning sunk in. She would willing
give her life, was her body that much different?

After all, she readily gave herself to him
the night before; of course that was more so for her benefit. Would
giving more be too much to ask for his allegiance?

Opening her eyes she looked into his. He
waited for her answer. If he were willing to help her save her men,
she would give him anything he asked.

“My answer is yes. My brother gave his life
for the cause, you ask for so little.”

For some reason her answer greatly disturbed
him. He had never had to beg a woman into his bed before. Hell,
most he had to beg to leave.

Why couldn’t he offer his ship freely? He
was already committing treason just by not reporting her. But no,
something about her made him feel. She was so passionate about her
damn army that it intrigued him. He couldn’t imagine mustering up
any feelings for his British neighbors. In fact, they disgusted
him.

If she needed a ship, than she shall have
one. After all, he had many more.

“Tonight then, come to me,” he whispered. He
bent down capturing her lips in his. He was a bit disappointed when
she did not kiss him back. He looked at her questioningly as she
pulled away.

“You asked for my body, not my heart,” she
replied, walking off to visit Molly.

Tristan turned to find Major Johnson
watching him with a scowl. “Did you need something major?”

“I was looking for the Colonel.”

“I’m sure you can find him at headquarters
with everyone else,” he replied sarcastically, sweeping his arm to
emphasize the troops hurrying past in the same direction.

“And I wanted to make sure Miss Smith was
not frightened from the news,” Randall added.

“Very thoughtful of you, but rest assured I
have consoled Miss Smith in your stead.”

“I see, which is why she is seeking out
companionship from her horse. Just to let you know, Sir Clinton is
returning to the city with his troops. I will be boarding with
you.”

Tristan smiled broadly. “Perfect! You can
sleep in Ryan’s room. He never uses it.” He patted him on the
shoulder and turned and walked away.

Sarah was in a glorious mood as she headed
to the park to meet Gabriel. She had a ship, now all she needed was
a plan. Molly matched her disposition and clopped smoothly along
the road.

There was more traffic on the road today;
men were scurrying around like rats. Thoughts of Tristan crept into
her head and she hastily pushed them away.

Arriving at the ruins, she tied Molly to a
post and headed up a tattered path. Patches of scorched earth
dotted the ground and she lifted her skirt as she walked so it
would not get sullied.

Reaching the burned out house, she carefully
picked her way through the rubble to the back. A man stood there
and stopped short. She had to look twice before she recognized him
as Gabriel. The usually dapper captain was dressed in filthy
dungarees, tattered shirt, and dropping hat. He would have made a
brilliant spy.

“Any news?” he whispered hastily.

“Why yes, the Colonel is throwing a ball,
and Tristan offered his ship.”

Gabriel’s eyebrow rose. “He offered it? Just
like that?” he asked suspiciously.

Sarah shrugged, looking away. “We bartered
for it.”

He frowned. “You should not…”

“It is done. What of your end?”

“I handpicked a crew. I made a pass along
the river, judging its depth. It’s too shallow for the
Maiden
; we need a lighter, quicker boat. The
Vixen
would do nicely. It’s Tristan’s private boat.”

Sarah frowned. “A smaller boat will carry
less people.”

“We can’t save them all, Sarah.”

“Well then, we will save all we can.”

“The ball may be an ideal diversion.”

“It isn’t until two weeks. I’m afraid for
your brother’s safety.”

“He is tough for a youngster.”

“Alright, we will meet again in a week.”

“Sarah?” Gabriel called after her. “Be
safe.”

Sarah nodded, heading back to Molly. A loan
figure stood next to the mare. His red coat stood out like a
beacon.

Sarah held her head up as she advanced on
him. “Major Johnson, what brings you out here?”

“I was headed in and recognized Molly. I was
concerned for your welfare.”

“I am fine,” she grumbled, turning her back
on him and turning to mount Molly. His hand latched onto her arm
and she winced from his firm grip; he smiled in return, taking a
step closer.

“What are you doing out here? I told you it
wasn’t safe to be alone in the city.”

Sarah was forced to look up at him. “I was
looking for my aunt’s house. I thought I might find a keepsake.
Something to remember her by.” Tears easily welled up in her eyes.
Seeing them, he pulled her tightly to his chest. His breath raked
across her skin as he buried his face in her neck for comfort. She
felt a nip on her throat from his teeth and pulled away, slapping
his face with her free hand.

“You should be nicer to me. I can make your
life very hard,” he growled, his eyes flashing.

She laughed aloud. “You know nothing of a
hard life.” Turning, she mounted her horse and hurried off. She
only slowed for Molly’s sake, but he did not follow.

She felt relief upon entering the stable.
She waved off the boy and tended to Molly herself. Brushing out her
coat and getting her feed kept her mind busy.

She was worried that Johnson had seen
Gabriel. She needed to be more careful in the future. With a final
stroke to Molly’s rump, she headed inside. Needing to keep busy,
she headed to the kitchen. After much persuasion, she was given a
bushel of fresh beans to break. Wholesome work was good for the
soul, her mother always quipped. Thinking of her parents pushed
away her doubts. She was doing the right thing.

The day passed quickly and she was shooed
upstairs to get ready for dinner. She dug through the trunk in her
room and found a pastel, green dress. She slipped it on and checked
her reflection in the mirror. After only a couple of decent meals,
her thin body was starting to recover. Her cheeks were not as
hollow as before, and the shadows from her eyes had almost
disappeared. She hoped her men were fairing as well.

She turned her head to tie up her hair in a
bun and noticed a mark on her neck. The good Major had left a
bruise from his brutish assault. She considered trying to hide it
with her hair, and then quickly changed her mind. She had done
nothing wrong. Why should she be ashamed?

She stood and headed down when the dinner
bell sounded. She hesitated at the doorway before entering. Sounds
like everyone is home, she grumbled to herself. Didn’t the Major
ever work? She headed to the table to find her seat moved next to
Tristan’s. A dominant act of his to say the least, she sat down and
nodded, she was not in the mood to speak cordially. .