Freedom's Light

by Colleen Coble

  His office was empty when she stepped inside the door. The soldier who usually manned the desk must have been on a break. She hurried to the major’s inner office and knocked on the door.

  “Come.”

  Lydia pushed open the door at the peremptory command and stepped inside. His gray head bowed at what appeared like maps, Major Grayson looked up at the sound of the door. His blue eyes widened at the sight of her. “Miss Lydia!” He stood and came around the desk. “What are you doing here? And unescorted?”

  At his kind voice Lydia burst into tears. “I had no one else to come to, Major. Please do not turn me away.” Hopeful for the first time, she clung to his hand.

  He patted her shoulder and guided her to a chair. “Sit down, miss. I was just about to enjoy a cup of tea. Surely you would join me.” He picked up the teapot and poured the steaming liquid into a cup. After handing it to her, he poured one for himself and sat in the chair next to her. “Now tell me what troubles you, my dear.”

  In a frantic burst of energy, Lydia spilled the story. His face grew graver and more disapproving as she told of her abandonment and condition.

  “You have been foolish, my dear. What can I do? I do not know of a midwife in the city, though I am sure there are some. Mayhap you could find one and rid yourself of the babe.”

  Lydia placed a protective hand on her stomach. “Major, I would not kill Galen’s child. I know he will want us both when he has time to think.” She was certain of that fact. He loved her, she knew he did. He was just upset at the destruction of his plans.

  Major Grayson shrugged. “Then what do you wish of me?”

  “A-a job, mayhap?” She stuttered at the shuttered expression on his face. He wouldn’t help her. She placed her cup on the desk with trembling fingers. “I can see I should not have come. I will go, Major. I cry you mercy for disturbing you.” She stood on wobbly legs.

  He held out a hand. “A job, you say? Mayhap I would have something. Sit, Miss Lydia, and we will discuss it.”

  A wave of relief left her giddy. She eased back into the chair. “What kind of job, Major?”

  “Would you like to serve England?”

  “Oh yes,” she breathed. “More than anything.”

  He nodded with satisfaction. “I have need of a spy in Washington’s camp, and I think you might suit for the position.”

  “A spy?” Lydia’s heart pounded. “I reported events in Gurnet to Major Montgomery’s men when I lived there with my sister, so I have some experience.”

  He laughed. “All the better. What I have in mind is a bit more dangerous than that, I fear. But I will pay you handsomely, and when the time comes, I will make inquiries and obtain a competent midwife for you.” He rose and patted her shoulder. “You need not fear, Lydia. I will take good care of you.”

  Lydia stared into his smiling eyes and felt a niggling sense of unease, but she squelched it. This was her only hope, her only chance to salvage her life. If she could help England win the war, she and Galen could go there and have the perfect life she dreamed of. She didn’t care what she had to do.

  CHAPTER 24

  The men were seated at a table in the front of the church while Hannah stood facing them with Charlotte in her arms. The censure in their faces made her mouth go dry.

  “Well, Mistress Hannah, I see we have you before this body once again.” Town elder Marcus Reynolds glared at her over his heavy eyebrows. “I had hoped you had learned from your sister’s example.”

  Hannah bit her lip and reminded herself that the Good Book said to have respect for those in authority over you. It was difficult, though, when she felt the men were being so unfair. She curtsied. “I cry you mercy, Elder Reynolds, but may I know what the charges are against me?” She had a pretty good idea, but she wanted to hear the men say exactly what they held against her. She looked around the room at the men seated there. Nathan refused to meet her gaze, and she felt a stab of hurt.

  Mr. Reynolds looked through the spectacles perched on his nose at the book in front of him. “Appearing in public with immodest dress, consorting with a known Tory and entertaining him without a chaperone, and bastardy.”

  Bastardy. Hannah gasped. She had expected the other, but could they honestly believe the child was hers? She glanced down at Charlotte, sleeping peacefully in her arms. She would be interested to hear how they planned to accuse her of that crime.

  “What say you, mistress?” His stringent voice broke through her musings.

  “I am not guilty of any of these things, sirs.”

  “That remains to be seen.” He turned to Roger Newsome. “You may present your accusations, Mr. Newsome.”

  Newsome, a balding fisherman with ferret eyes, stood and cleared his throat. He didn’t look at Hannah. “Gentlemen, I was shocked to see Mistress Hannah Thomas clad in men’s breeches the day the New England went down. She exposed herself in this immodest fashion to men from the village as well as sailors from the ship. Even after the danger was over, she continued to parade herself in men’s clothing.”

  The murmur of disapproval echoed in the room, and Hannah flinched. She doubted they would even listen to her explanations.

  “Mr. Gray, present your testimony.”

  Hannah blanched. Though she knew he would not defend her, she didn’t expect him to speak against her. She stared at him, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

  Nathan stood and shuffled his feet. “I regret to tell you all that I found Mistress Hannah entertaining Captain Meredith just yesterday. There was no chaperone present. We reprimanded her for consorting with this known Tory just last fall. Obviously, she did not listen to our advice.”

  He finally met her gaze, but no pity dwelled there. A tear escaped, but his face still didn’t soften. “Finally, there is the matter of the babe. I wonder if this is her own child that has been hidden away. She introduced her as her own daughter.”

  Caught by her own words. Her arms tightened around Charlotte. Charlotte’s dark curls were very like her own, which would be damaging. But she would have a chance to defend herself. God help me. Give me the right words to reach them.

  Mr. Reynolds gestured to her. “You may defend yourself, mistress. What say you to these charges?”

  Hannah took a deep breath. “As to the charge of wearing men’s breeches, it is true, sirs.” A mutter of anger spanned the room. “But I was painting the lighthouse when the wreck occurred. It was not safe or modest to do so in a dress, and since I was alone at my home, I thought it would be permitted to do what was necessary in privacy. If I was to save the shipwrecked men, there was no time to change clothes.”

  The censure slackened on the faces of some of the men, and two of them nodded. Encouraged, she went on. “As to consorting with Captain Meredith, I was not expecting him. He found this babe with her dead mother and brought her to me. He knew of my childlessness and thought I would welcome a daughter of my own. From the moment he placed Charlotte in my arms, I was her mother. But she is not the child of my own body, sirs. Surely you cannot believe such a horrendous lie.”

  “He is a Tory. You should not have allowed him access to your home.” Mr. Reynolds glowered.

  “He was a friend, sir. I would not turn a friend away, no matter what his political persuasion.” Hannah didn’t know what else she could say. She spoke the truth. Surely they could see the accusations were lies. “And the child would have died without his intervention. Surely, that should account for some sympathy from you.”

  “We will retire and discuss this matter,” Elder Reynolds said.

  The men filed out of the room. One or two cast a sympathetic glance her way, and she took heart at their concern. Charlotte slept the entire time they were gone.

  After nearly half an hour, the men came back in. She couldn’t tell from Mr. Reynolds’s expression which way the vote had gone. What would they do to her if they found her guilty? She found it difficult to breathe as she waited for them to be seated.

  Mr. Reynolds st
eepled his fingers together and stared at her over the tops of his hands. “Mistress Hannah Thomas, we find you guilty of these charges.”

  She gasped and put out a hand to steady herself. A tide of heat swept up her neck and face. Guilty! How could this be? Did these men not listen to God at all? Were they so caught up in appearances and censure they had no compassion? What had she expected, though? They had dealt harshly with Lydia as well.

  “After much discussion of your punishment, we have decided on a whipping of the prescribed ten lashes for bastardy. I know this may be less of a punishment than you expected with three charges against you, but in light of your gender and your occupation, we have decided to be lenient.”

  A whipping. She felt faint.

  “However, there is one recourse for you to avoid this punishment. Mr. Nathan Gray has generously agreed to take responsibility for your future actions if you consent to become his wife. I think you will agree this would be an acceptable ending to this matter.” Mr. Reynolds appeared pleased, as though he had personally thought of this solution.

  Hannah clung desperately to her composure. She must not act like a fishwife, though she longed to throw accusations in Nathan’s face. His pleased smile infuriated her. He thought he had her, did he? He would find out differently.

  “When is the punishment to be carried out?” she asked quietly.

  Nathan’s smile faltered, and Elder Reynolds frowned. “Did you not hear me, mistress? There will be no punishment. Mr. Gray has agreed to wed you.”

  She lost the tenuous grip on her temper. “But I have not agreed to wed him. You would have me wed a man who manipulated me and lied about my good name? A man who does not know the meaning of the word truth and who mocks this court’s justice? Nay, sirs, I would rather suffer any punishment than that. You are guilty of straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel.”

  Red suffused Nathan’s face. He jumped to his feet and pointed his finger at Hannah. “Must we listen to more of this woman’s slander?” he shouted. “She chooses the lash rather than comfort as my wife, so let her feel its sting today. Have we need to wait?”

  The angry murmur swelled in the room, and the men rushed forward to take her. Charlotte was ripped from her arms, and her frightened wail pierced Hannah’s heart. Rough hands bore her outside. She was thrust against the whipping post and her hands tied to it. It happened so quickly, she barely had time to be frightened. Someone, she could not see his face, ripped her dress from her back and laid it bare to the whip.

  She cried out at the first bite of the lash and writhed to get away from the second. The knotted cat-o’-nine-tails sliced through her skin with each stroke. The fury in the lash made her wonder if Nathan held the whip. Her body spasmed with each stripe, her breath whistling through her teeth in agony. Finally, it was over. The men untied her, and she crumpled to the ground.

  Her back screamed when she tried to move. She gathered the tattered pieces of her bodice to try to cover as much of her body as she could. She cried out in pain and forced herself to her feet. Looking around, she found that all of her accusers had gone, though several onlookers still gaped and called out rude jeers. She staggered back to the church. As she neared the front door, she could hear Charlotte’s frantic wail.

  Barely hanging on to consciousness, she pushed open the door and stumbled inside, away from the curious spectators and the shame of her ordeal. Charlotte had been left on the hard floor alone and wept piteously at her abandonment.

  “There now, sweet one. Mama’s here.” Groaning from the exertion, she lifted the baby into her arms and sank into a pew. How was she to get home? She did not have the strength to walk home with Charlotte in her arms. No one in town cared enough about her to help her. God, help me. I have no strength left. Tears fell onto the babe’s face, and Hannah wiped them away with a trembling finger.

  After a few moments, she struggled to her feet again and moved toward the door. She had to try. She couldn’t stay in this place all night. Charlotte was hungry, and Hannah knew her wounds would need treatment.

  Olive could help her. She lurched outside and found the streets nearly deserted. Thankful to escape more prying, derisive eyes, she shuffled painfully down the street toward home.

  The city limits were still in sight when she was overtaken by a mule and wagon. The man who drove it was a stranger with kind brown eyes and a steady smile. “Have you need of a ride, mistress?”

  “You are an answer to prayer, sir.” She climbed into the back of the wagon. The sweet smell of hay was comforting, and favoring her back, she lowered herself into its welcome softness with a muffled groan. “Thank you most kindly.”

  He smiled and flicked the whip over the mule’s head. “I intended to pass you by, but God bid me to help you. Thank him, not me.”

  Hannah let out a weary smile. “I did the moment you stopped, sir.” In spite of her pain, she felt a deep joy to know that God had seen her in this hour of great need. Just that encouragement strengthened her.

  The lurch of the wagon lulled her to sleep, and when she awoke the wagon had stopped outside her house. Groggy, she sat up. Charlotte had fallen asleep as well. Hannah gathered the babe into her arms and tried to scoot to the edge of the wagon. Tears sprang to her eyes at the pain in her torn flesh.

  “Let me help you.” The farmer jumped from the seat and hurried around to the back of the wagon. He gently helped her to her feet and lifted her and Charlotte down. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. God bless you, sir.”

  He tipped his hat. “And you, mistress.” He sprang back into the seat and the wagon rattled away.

  Hannah stood watching him a moment, then went inside the house. Charlotte was fretting for food, so she placed the baby in the bed and, moving stiffly, took a bottle of milk from the spring-house. She poured some into a cup and went to feed the baby. It was hard getting Charlotte to drink from a cup. She still wanted to suckle, but the goose quill Hannah tried had proved to be a failure. It took nearly an hour, but the baby finally managed to fill her stomach. She fell asleep with her head on Hannah’s bosom, and Hannah laid her in the crib.

  She needed to try to cleanse her wounds, but the thought of managing the stairs was too painful to contemplate. She curled on the sofa with her back exposed to the air and slept again.

  The shadows were long when a knock on the door woke her. She was in no shape for company. She glanced out the window and breathed a sigh when she recognized the Thomas family carriage. Slowly and painfully, she made her way across the room to the front door.

  Olive’s smile faded when she saw Hannah. Her mouth formed an O, and she put a hand out to her sister-in-law. “We heard what happened.”

  Hannah leaned against the doorpost for support. She opened her mouth to explain, but for some reason the room wouldn’t stop spinning. Stephen stepped forward to catch her as she slid to the ground.

  The lights. She must see to the lights. Hannah opened her eyes and tried to sit up. The cool cloth on her forehead fell to the floor. She couldn’t see. The lights weren’t lit. She forced herself to move though her back felt as if it were on fire. Struggling against the entangling bedclothes, she swung her feet to the floor. She could feel the bandages on her back. Olive must be here somewhere. And what of Charlotte? What would Olive do with her?

  Her head spun, but Hannah felt much better than she had earlier. Her back still screamed, but the pain was manageable now. She struggled into a gown and shoes, then opened the bedroom door. Moving slowly down the hall, she could see Olive rocking Charlotte in the chair by the window. Holding on to the banister for support, Hannah descended the stairs. She must see to the lights, but she didn’t quite know how she was going to climb those steep spiral steps.

  Olive looked up at the slight sound Hannah made in the hall. “You are awake.” She put the baby on a pallet on the floor and hurried toward her. “Faith, but you frightened me.” She examined her from head to toe. “You l
ook better. Would you like some stew?”

  “The lights. I must light them,” Hannah said. Her voice was hoarse.

  “Stephen just went out to light them.” Olive took her arm and led her to the sofa. “I heard what happened today. Why did you not call for me to come to your support? I would have reminded them whose money paid for most of the town.” Her eyes sparked with retribution.

  Hannah sagged into the cushions. “I regret I did not. By the time I realized how serious the situation was, they had seized me and tied me to the whipping post.” She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I feel sorry for them, trapped in their rules and failing to see the true nature of God.”

  Olive shook her head. “Is it true they offered to stay your punishment if you would wed Nathan?”

  Hannah nodded. “Why does he wish to marry me, Olive? He obviously bears no love for me if he would allow me to be publicly whipped.”

  Olive flushed. “I do not know the full story, but I overheard Mama offer to settle a sum on you if you would marry. She does not want you to carry the Thomas name. Harlis told her of his intention to wed you once the war was over. Nothing Mama said would dissuade him.”

  So that was it. Hannah understood now. Nathan had merely wanted the money Mother Thomas had offered. Why hadn’t her mother-in-law asked her whether she intended to accept Harlis before trying to manage her life? Now the family was further disgraced by her whipping. She shuddered at the thought of facing the townspeople again.

  Hannah sighed. “I see you and Charlotte have become acquainted. Did the local gossips tell you who she is?”