Chapter Thirteen
The two-story Temple Inn turned out to be less commodious than Thomas had hoped for, but then, one could not expect the amenities of an English inn here in this wilderness. The proprietor was a jolly Scot, an uncle of the guide and Mrs. Wellsey, and one of their Cherokee relations ran the nearby livery stable. Several other guests were already ensconced in various common rooms, but Thomas managed to secure private quarters for Dinah and Mrs. Wellsey to share, while he and the good doctor would sleep in a large chamber filled with other men.
As his steward and the serving girl unloaded baggage, two servants hurried out of the wood-frame building to assist with other tasks, and soon all were settled into their rooms. Shunning the inn’s noisy tavern, Thomas, Dinah and the Wellseys gathered in the small tearoom to enjoy a tasty supper of squirrel, alligator, wild boar and several exotic vegetables.
Thomas would have preferred to dine privately with Dinah, but propriety forbade it in this remote setting. While the four of them chatted about mundane matters, he studied her solemn countenance, trying to discern what had changed during their midday meal. In that wild forest setting, he had felt it necessary once again to promise always to return to her, no matter how often he must leave. Yet when he’d come back with a plateful of food for her, her merry mood had vanished, which threw his hopes into doubt. What more could he do to persuade her of his good intentions other than resign his commission and leave the navy?
A lightning bolt could not have struck him with more force than that thought. Leave the navy? In the middle of a war? Although he had pondered his own feelings of weariness with the war, he now knew resigning was impossible. Duty counted for something. For everything to a man of honor. Like a long-ingrained habit, the question reemerged, What will Father think? The idea spoiled his appetite. But why? He no longer needed to try to please the patriarch, always an impossible task in the best of times. He should probably consider what the Almighty required of him. Yet, at this moment, the only person he wanted to please sat across from him pushing her supper around on a pewter plate.
“Do you not care for alligator, Miss Templeton?” Thomas wondered if she could hear the emotion in his voice.
She looked up, and a hint of a smile graced her lips. “Oh, yes. I have become well accustomed to it. And, as everyone in East Florida says, I would rather eat the alligator than have it eat me.”
In response, Thomas offered a shuddering wince that earned him a broader smile. At that moment, locked in each other’s gazes, they seemed to be the only two people in the room. He could easily spend the rest of his life ending each day in her sweet company.
A tiny frown dashed across her forehead, and she looked down at her plate. What random thought had broken their connection? Were they alone, he would ask. For now, his appetite having fled, he could only stare down at his own half-eaten meal.
Dinah glanced around the room once more, making certain she had left nothing behind.
The serving girl, who held a small leather satchel, paused by the door. “No need to worry, miss. I packed everything.”
“Yes, of course. I thank you, Nancy.” Dinah had never employed a personal servant, and she felt a bit unnerved having this girl hover about trying to anticipate her needs. But Thomas’s steward had insisted she must have someone in attendance, and so it was done. In St. Augustine, where many poor loyalists had fled along with wealthier ones, servants for hire were easy to find. Nancy had turned out to be an agreeable girl who was eager to please her.
Dinah looked out the front window to check the progress of those who were packing the coach and wagon. Captain Moberly stood beside the coach, talking with the driver. He glanced her way and she ducked back, feeling foolish and angry at the same time.
Last night she had lain awake arguing with herself, at last coming to the conclusion that no matter what happened or did not happen between them, she would lose. If he professed his love, she would not be able to deny her own feelings for him. They would marry. He would leave. And leave and leave. And each time he left, her heart would break. But if his now-obvious affection for her cooled and he never spoke of it, her heart would break then, too. She could not win. Nor could she rein in her feelings to save her life.
Another look out the window revealed a mild uproar about the baggage. The usually placid Dr. Wellsey seemed to be at odds with Hinton about how things should be packed. Dinah sighed. She could not wait to get back in the coach and complete the journey. While her cousin and her sister-in-law might treat her as a something of a featherbrain, at least her niece and nephews would be glad to see her, and she could sketch their portraits to show how they had changed since last she’d seen them.
She went downstairs and, to avoid the captain, walked out the back door to view the landscape. A kitchen house was set apart from the inn, some distance from the trees. She wandered close and, through the open door, saw several black servants busy at their work. Were they slaves or free? Their friendly banter with the Indian cook suggested they were among those who had escaped their bonds and fled one of the rebelling colonies amidst the chaos of the war.
The early-morning air carried the scent of pine trees that mingled with the aromas of pies and meat roasting for the inn’s guests. Dinah had taken a cold breakfast of bread and cheese in her room, but the bread had been freshly baked and delicious.
From the front of the inn came shouts announcing that all was in readiness for the trip. Dinah walked around the building through the tall grass and past a large woodpile. As she neared the front corner, the unmistakable angry rattle of a viper reached her ears. Instinct shouted within her Stop. Do not move. Her Uncle Lamech had nearly died from a snakebite four years ago, and his description of the event had burned into her memory.
Fear brought beads of perspiration pouring down her face and stinging moisture dripped into her eyes, but she dared not wipe it away. Her hands itched from brushing through the grass, but she could not scratch. Her legs shook, but she could grasp nothing to steady herself. Daring to look from the corner of her eye, she saw the beast’s tiny, hooded eyes set in a swaying triangular head, a gray and black diamond-patterned back and a small, beaded tail that shook its angry warning at her. Her throat constricted. She could not cry out, could not even whisper.
Lord, save me.
Ahead she saw Thomas by the coach, and in that instant, all became clear. She might be bitten at any moment, might die, never having experienced the joys of marriage. Her heart raced with fear and love.
I love you, Thomas Moberly. If God grants me life, I will be happy to be your wife, no matter how often you must leave me.
With that thought, an odd peace settled over her.
“Sir?” Hinton’s voice shook with uncharacteristic emotion, and his eyes were focused toward the side of the inn.
Thomas turned to see Dinah standing oddly still. Her expression stunned him, for the gaze she fixed on him bespoke love and trust and—
He saw the snake. Not four feet from her, it rattled its warning, and Thomas’s heart seemed to stop.
You’ll need to use your sword on the snakes, Charles had said.
Thomas had thought it a jest, but now his sword was the only weapon he had at hand. He slid it from its scabbard and moved slowly toward the serpent. God, help me. If he could draw the creature’s attention—
As if comprehending the drama, the others in the party stood still. All except the innkeeper’s dogs, which ran toward the snake, barking furiously. They darted close, then backed away, then darted close again. With each movement, the snake’s attention swayed between the dogs and the lady. Thomas understood. The shaggy mongrels were providing him with the opportunity to come behind the viper and kill it.
Easing into the brush beside the woodpile, he inched closer, not taking his eyes from his target. But then it swiveled its head his way, and its rattles vibrated in a fury. If he should be struck, so be it. He would gladly die for this woman.
The dogs increased
their noise and, like swordsmen, thrust and parried, attacked and feinted, demanding the snake’s attention. Before it could remember his presence, Thomas slashed his sword downward with all his strength, severing the menacing head from the body. A second violent cut sliced the writhing body in two pieces.
Thomas would have struck again, if only to vent his heightened emotions, but the inn’s Indian cook ran toward him, waving her arms. “No, no. We will eat it. Do not damage it further.”
A whimpering laugh emanated from nearby, and Thomas dropped his weapon and rushed to catch Dinah as she fell forward. For the second time in their brief acquaintance, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to safety. This time, she flung her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.
“I knew you would save me.” The hot breath of her whisper fanned his neck.
He held her close and rested his chin on her head as a wild and giddy feeling swept through him. “My dear Miss Templeton.” It was all he could manage to say.
But now he knew with certainty that he could give up anything, everything, to spend his life with her…if she would have him.
Chapter Fourteen
Throughout the morning as Thomas rode alongside the guide at the head of their party, he considered what lay ahead. After this morning’s near disaster, his priorities had shifted, and he found himself eagerly anticipating at least part of the visit to Bennington Plantation. He would take great enjoyment in approaching Dinah’s uncle and asking permission to marry her. He had some questions about why this Lamech Folger had not provided a home for Dinah. But having heard only praise about the man from Templeton, Thomas would assume the best. Of course, his first choice would be to address her brother, but Templeton might not return from London for some time, and Thomas was not willing to put off the matter until his arrival.
Of course his first task would be trying to establish a tolerable relationship with his brother. If not for their sister Marianne, he would have no qualms about reporting their father’s demise immediately. No, that was not true. As a gentleman, he must show some sensitivity for Freddy’s wife, whose life would be affected as much as the rest of theirs would. Furthermore, Thomas would not wish for Dinah to think him unfeeling. He had no intention of wearing a mask or hiding anything from her. But perhaps he should have told her clearly what she no doubt had already guessed: That he and Freddy had grown up as enemies.
The idea did not sit well on his mind. He had never worded it quite that way, but he entertained no doubts that it was true. Yet until now, Thomas had never felt compelled to examine the whys and hows of the situation. While their eldest brother had enjoyed all the privileges and protections of his rank, Thomas and his brother Robert had fended for themselves. Their mother had died shortly after Thomas’s birth and neither of them had any memories of her. He’d never considered how tragic her death had been until his own wife died, and the realization had doubled his sorrow.
But all too soon after his mother’s demise, his father the earl had found a new countess, a pretty young thing in whom Thomas never found fault. Still, she and Father indulged their firstborn boy, dear little Freddy, who always denied he was the favorite. The whiny little brat who always ran to his mamá rather than standing up and fighting like a man.
Thomas groaned inwardly. He was no longer a boy and should not entertain such petty thoughts. He ceased being a boy when Father sent him off to the navy at thirteen. He’d always felt somehow that his forced naval career had been Freddy’s doing. Or perhaps it was the countess’s way of protecting her son. All he could recall was his own sense of being utterly bereft. He alone had been sent away from the family, he alone cast out into the harsh world of military service to learn his duty to his king and country.
Yet he had enjoyed one bright spot in those growing-up years. All four brothers doted on Lady Marianne, their pretty little sister. Thomas’s stomach clenched at the thought of her giving birth a second time. Would she, like his mother and wife, succumb to the lethal dangers of childbearing? Or would Mrs. Wellsey prove to be a competent midwife and deliver both mother and child safely through the valley of the shadow of death? Thomas prayed that God would be merciful.
As the day advanced and grew hotter, the party passed wagons, riders and foot travelers on King’s Road, enduring the odors of man and beast and occasionally the aromas of fresh fruits and vegetables. From time to time, they turned out at a clearing while a wagonload of products from a plantation rumbled past on its way to St. Augustine. Still, the horses managed a fair pace on the busy thoroughfare. Along some stretches of the highway, hard-packed dirt made good progress possible, but in others deep, sandy ruts slowed the coach and wagon. But with the abundant oak and cypress trees forming a cooling canopy for the travelers, and with a fresh breeze carrying the varying scents of pine and magnolia to delight their senses, no one complained.
In fact, Thomas could not recall a single time he had ever heard Dinah complain, not even about the snake. And he still marveled at the way she had shaken off her fright this morning and insisted they must begin their journey without further delay. Admiration and love welled up in his heart and he longed to complete his poem extolling her many virtues. Perhaps Marianne could advise him. If she branded it rubbish, he would burn the page. But his sister would likely praise his efforts, however poor they might be. Doubt surged through his mind. He never had this sort of dilemma in tending to his duties. But then, since meeting Dinah, nothing in his life had been the same.
“This is our turnoff.” Charles pointed to the right, where a byway broke from the main road.
Thomas’s chest tightened. Every happy anticipation forgotten, he decided that riding into Bennington Plantation felt much like sailing into battle, and he must place all guns in readiness.
“I would say it was at least eight feet long and a good twelve inches around.” Dr. Wellsey formed a circle with his hands as if trying to gauge the size of the snake, then wrote something in his journal.
“No more than six feet.” Joanna tapped the page. “But a fat one. My uncle will have a special item of fare to offer his guests tonight.”
With a small shudder, Dinah lifted her head from the pillow where she had reclined since they left the inn. “If you please, I would not wish Captain Moberly to know I fainted.” She pulled herself up to a sitting position on the cushioned seat. Indeed, she felt nothing but embarrassment for behaving in such a weak manner in front of these friends.
“Not a word.” Joanna patted her hand. “You were very brave. Most white women I know would have become hysterical. They would not have had the good sense to stand still, as you did.”
“Do you require smelling salts?” Dr. Wellsey reached for his medicine bag.
“No.” Dinah brushed a hand over her forehead, finding grit mingled with perspiration. “But I thank you for your kind ministrations.” She looked out the window. “Have I slept long?”
“Most of the morning.” Joanna glanced outside. “We turned off on Bennington Road a half hour ago.”
“Ah!” Her lack of sleep last night must have contributed to her exhaustion after her ordeal. She reached into her small traveling bag and pulled out a linen handkerchief. “Do we have water?”
Dr. Wellsey produced a flask, and she poured a small amount onto the cloth. After wiping her forehead, she checked the soiled fabric.
“My goodness, the deeper inland we travel, the more dirt flies up from the road to cover us.”
Joanna reached for the handkerchief. “May I?” She brushed it over Dinah’s face, then gave it back. “That’s better. But he will think well of you even with smudges on your face.” Her gentle smile made clear of whom she spoke.
Dinah lifted her fan and waved it to dry the moisture…and to cool the heat trying to fill her cheeks. Never again would she criticize Elizabeth Markham for blushing, for if the heart was sufficiently engaged, surely any lady would surrender to the phenomenon.
The party wended its way through the dens
e forest and finally came around a thick stand of palm trees. In the distance, some fifty yards away, Thomas saw a tall, well-formed man raising an ax over a fallen oak tree. His hair had loosened from its queue and his soiled white shirt flapped in the breeze as he hacked into the wood much like how Thomas had hacked into the snake that morning. The sight surprised him.
Freddy. Working. At hard labor. Why had he not assigned one of his many slaves to such a chore? Several of them worked within yards of their master and could have been ordered to cut the wood. Thomas could taste his revulsion as keenly as he could taste the dirt from the road that filled his mouth and covered his clothes. Slaves. The bane of the Christendom. And his family was as guilty as any.
As Thomas rode nearer, Freddy turned and saw him. And did not move.
When Thomas reined his horse to a stop and dismounted, his brother at last set down his ax and lifted one hand in a brusque greeting.
“Tommy.” He swiped a sleeve across his forehead. “What a surprise.”
Thomas nodded. It was all he could do not to blurt out his message about their father, just for the satisfaction of seeing how Freddy would react. Once again, guilt sliced into his gut at such a thought. But he could not help himself.
“So, what has it been? Nine, ten years?” Freddy reached down and picked up a finely carved cane. Then, with great care, he stepped over small limbs and branches and limped toward Thomas, leaning on the walking stick as if he would fall without it. With each touch of his right foot on the ground, his jaw clenched.
Shock slammed into Thomas’s chest. The pain twisting his brother’s face was real. He had seen enough malingerers to know whether a man’s suffering was false or genuine. Yet Freddy appeared to be trying to hide it.
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