Julian had turned his head away, so Lavender left the room, ashamed of her outburst. How could she expect someone of the ruling class to understand how she felt? She had not meant to argue with him, but he had made her angry. Her heart was heavy and she wondered where this would all end.
It was midafternoon, and Lavender was preparing a light meal for Julian, knowing he would probably be hungry when he awoke. She sensed he needed more than food to regain his strength. For some reason she knew his troubles went deeper than the wounds on his back. Perhaps he was still thinking about his dead brother. Perhaps he resented the weakness that prevented him from making her his prisoner.
Lavender moved quietly into the bedroom and sat at Julian's bedside, wishing that he were just an ordinary man and not a duke. She fantasized as to what it would be like if she and Julian were man and wife and this was their farm.
Sighing heavily, she pushed her fantasy aside. The gap that separated her and Julian was far wider than that which separated nobility from the common class: she was his enemy in every way that counted. Perhaps he could have forgiven the fact that their countries were at war. He could possibly have overlooked the fact that she had made a fool out of him. But he would always despise her because he believed she was responsible for his brother's death. The best she could do for him was give him time to heal so he could make it safely to one of the British-occupied areas.
Lavender stood up and flexed her aching muscles. Since Julian was sleeping, she went down on her knees beside him. He moaned in his sleep, and she realized that he was in a lot of pain. Her eyes darted to the outer door, and she wondered what could be keeping Forbes. He had been gone long enough to reach Yorktown, fetch Julian's valet, and return.
She removed the damp cloth from Julian's brow, dipped it in a pan of cool water, and reapplied it to his forehead. The shadows on the wall told her it was late afternoon. Where was Forbes?
It was hot and oppressive in the bedroom; no breeze stirred through the open window. Lavender picked up an old newspaper and fanned Julian with it, hoping to bring him some relief from the heat.
She was tired and drained. Perhaps she would just lay her head against the bed. She did not intend to fall asleep, but only to close her eyes for a short while . . .
Lavender awoke when a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. "You there, girl, on your feet." A stiff English voice came floating to her out of a dream. Rough hands shook her until she finally became fully awake.
The first thing she saw was a flash of red—an English uniform! She raised her head to stare at the man and found that he looked familiar to her. Yes, he had been Julian's accomplice the night they had laid a trap for her at the Swan Tavern. She glanced at the insignia on his uniform and was not in the least surprised to find that he was an officer in the British Army. Two soldiers, one on either side of her, pulled her to a standing position. Lavender realized nothing would be gained by struggling. She gave in to the fact that she was now a prisoner.
She watched helplessly as a man, probably the valet, Hendrick, bent over Julian's sleeping form. "He has been badly injured," she managed to say. "Try not to disturb him. He needs his sleep."
The valet turned sympathetic eyes on her as if he were sorry for her plight. "Thank you for looking after His Grace," he said kindly.
The colonel indicated to his two men that they should lead her away. Rough hands pulled her forward. When they reached the other room, the colonel spoke. "Hello again, Swallow, Lavender Daymond, or whatever you want to be called. 1 am Colonel Grimsley, and you are under arrest!"
She glanced at the colonel questioningly: "Will you be so kind as to allow me to leave His Grace a note before you take me away?"
Colonel Grimsley turned cold eyes on Lavender. "I think not. The last time you said good-bye to him, you knocked him over the head. From the looks of him, this time he's fortunate to be alive."
Lavender looked about her, hoping to see Forbes. "Where is Fo— the man who brought us here? What have you done with him?"
Grimsley laughed and nodded over his shoulder. "Your man has served us well. He helped us trap you at long last, Swallow. It's been a long time in coming, and you will not escape us this time."
Lavender stared in disbelief at Forbes, who was cowering near the door. "No, you wouldn't -be a party to this, Forbes. You and Sarah are my friends!"
Forbes could not meet her clear honest gaze. "Times is hard, Miss Lavender. I needed the money to buy me and Sarah a place of our own. We're getting on in years and can't work at the hospital much longer. But 1 never told the man your true name."
"Sarah couldn't know about this," Lavender whispered. "No, she would never betray me."
Forbes shifted his feet. "Sarah don't know, and I ain't aiming to tell her, 'cause she'd only get all riled at me. I'm right sorry that I had to do this, but you should understand, I needed the money. I was loyal to the cause until several weeks ago," he said, as if that would excuse what he was now doing.
Brainard had said there was a spy at the hospital. Lavender now knew it had been Forbes who had betrayed her at the Swan Tavern. "I do not understand. How could you—" Her voice trailed off, and she thought of the others in Brainard's network of spies whose names were known to Forbes. "Have you betrayed the others as well as myself?" she asked pointedly.
Forbes's gaze met hers. "No, nor will I. My bargain was only for you. I swore I would tell them no more, and no matter how they pressured me, I wouldn't tell them your true name."
Lavender raised her eyes and met those of Colonel Grimsley. "What did you pay Forbes, Colonel—thirty pieces of silver?"
Grimsley thought how innocent and angelic Lavender Daymond looked, which caused him to speak to her in a kind voice. "War makes us all guilty of deeds we would not ordinarily participate in. Look at you, for example." His eyes ran the length of her trouser-clad legs. "I'm sure you will understand we had to use any means we could to put a stop to your exploits." The colonel nodded to his two men. "Take her to the carriage, and tell the sergeant to get her away from here before someone comes to rescue her. Watch her every moment," he warned. "She's tricky as hell."
Lavender swallowed convulsively, wanting to protest. How could she leave Julian when he was so ill? But the choice was not hers to make. Her chin was held high as she walked out of the room. She did not hesitate, but moved out the door and climbed into the waiting carriage. She was numb, unable to feel or think clearly. When she had time to reflect on her situation she would deal with the fact that she was a prisoner. But not now . .. not now . ..
The horses moved forward at a fast pace, while six mounted soldiers rode on either side of the coach. The doors were barred from the outside, and the windows were sealed shut. Colonel Grimsley was taking no chance that she would escape this time. Julian had finally achieved what he had come to America for: The Swallow was his prisoner!
Leaning her head back against the padded seat, Lavender thought how worried her aunt would be when she discovered her niece had disappeared. Would her aunt and brother ever be told what had happened to her? No tears gathered in her eyes, and she did not allow herself the luxury of self-pity. She had played the game and lost. Now it was time to face the consequences of her actions. The British would call her a traitor, while most Americans would say she was a patriot.
She glanced out the window at the passing scenery. It was apparent that they were traveling south. With a heavy sigh, she glanced down at her black britches, wishing she had at least been allowed to change into a gown to fortify her against whatever awaited her at the end of the journey.
After an hour on the road, a sudden rainstorm struck and raindrops streaked down the dusty windows, leaving a muddy trail. Lavender wondered if Julian would find peace within himself now that she was in British hands. Would he set sail for England as soon as his health permitted?
On and on the horses plodded, neither stopping nor slowing their pace. By nightfall her captors must have decided they were safe from pursuit because
they stopped at an out-of-the-way inn. Lavender was led to an upstairs bedroom by two sober-faced soldiers. There would be no chance for her to escape because two guards were posted at the door and three more stood beneath the only window. The guards must have been instructed not to engage her in conversation, because no one spoke to her. That suited Lavender, because she had nothing to say to them, either.
She lay across the bed fully clothed, and the food that had been brought to her went uneaten. Today had been the worst day of her life. Most probably she did not have too many more days left to her, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.
Julian was so ill he was barely aware when several soldiers lifted him, feather bed and all, and placed him into a well-sprung traveling coach. He recognized Hendrick's voice urging him to rest and assuring him that everything would be all right. He heard the sound of horses' hooves and wondered where he was being taken—not that he really cared, he was in too much pain to think clearly. He was not aware of the twenty soldiers from the Kings Regiment that guarded his coach. All he wanted to do was lose himself in blissful sleep.
Lavender speculated she was being held prisoner somewhere in South Carolina, but she could not be sure. She stared at the door of the bedroom, knowing how a caged animal must feel. She had been confined in a bedroom on the third floor of an old country estate that had seen better days. Most probably she was staying in what had once been part of the servants' quarters, because the room was cramped and had only a small window under the eaves, which offered her only a limited view of the rooftop. While her bedroom was not luxurious, it was not uncomfortable. The furnishings consisted of a small cot, a hard-back chair, and a marble stand that held a candle and washbasin.
She had been here for over two weeks, and the only person she ever saw was her jailer, Sergeant Cabot, who brought her food three times a day. The man was always stiff and formal when he addressed Lavender, leaving her to believe he had been instructed to avoid engaging her in conversation. Evidently Grimsley was still taking no chances that she would charm her way out of this. The stone-faced sergeant did not appear to be a man whom a woman could entice.
So far Sergeant Cabot had not volunteered any information, and she did not voice any of the dozens of questions that rattled around in her head. Lavender ached to know if Julian was recovering from his wounds, but she doubted the sergeant would be privy to that information.
She had no concept of the passing hours, since there was no clock in the room. There was nothing to occupy her time other than staring at the ceiling and walls. Sometimes she yearned for the sound of another human voice. Loneliness weighed heavily on her shoulders. She had time to wonder how her aunt and brother were taking her disappearance.
Now, hearing the scraping of keys in the lock, Lavender scooted off the bed and quickly came to her feet. Expecting to see Sergeant Cabot, she was surprised when a middle-aged woman with a round face and body entered the room. Dressed in a stiff black maid's uniform, the woman covered her astonishment at the male attire Lavender wore. Bobbing a quick curtsy, she spoke. "My name is Holly," she said quickly, hoping to cover her amazement. "1 am to see to your needs, mistress."
Lavender was glad to see a woman, since she had been forced to rely on Sergeant Cabot for her every need. She watched the maid carefully drape a pink gown and undergarments across the bed, and then she set a box containing soap and a hairbrush on the table. "They'll be bringing a bath up directly. Is there anything further you'll be needing?"
Lavender shook her head in amazement. Thus far she had only been allowed to wash in the basin, and she was looking forward to a full bath. "By whose orders am I allowed to bathe, Holly?" she asked.
"I'm sure I don't know. Unless it has something to do with the arrival of Colonel Grimsley this afternoon."
Lavender stared after the maid as she left the room and closed the door behind her. She had been living in oblivion these last few weeks, and something told her that her future was about to be decided by those who controlled her destiny. It did not matter what happened to her, she told herself. Anything would be better than living in this awful void where day passed into night without her caring. Even the war had ceased to exist for her. The only thought that penetrated her tortured mind was the love she had for Julian. That, too, would pass when they placed a rope around her neck.
Suddenly her head was spinning round and round, and she felt herself crumple to the floor. For the first time in Lavender's life she fell into a dead faint!
14
Julian awoke to the bracing aroma of salt air. It took him a moment to realize that the reason the bed he lay upon swayed with a gentle motion was because he was on board a ship. He found himself lying on his stomach, and when he tried to move, the pain in his back was excruciating.
Hendrick, who had been patiently waiting by the duke's bedside, now hovered over him with a concerned frown on his face. "At last you are awake, Your Grace. Is the pain to your back very great?"
"No, I can bear it." Julian was so delighted to have his valet with him once more that he even managed a slight smile. Hendrick had been with the Westfield family for over forty years and had been valet to Julian's father before the elder duke died. Julian had rarely been without the little man's services, the exception being while he had been in Williamsburg.
"Where in the hell are we, Hendrick? Why in the hell am I on a ship?"
"We are on board His Majesty's ship, the Monarch, under sail for General Clinton's headquarters in New York. You were in no condition to make any decisions, Your Grace, so Colonel Grimsley took it upon himself to get you away from Virginia as quickly as possible." The little man fluffed up the two pillows at Julian's head. "After what happened to you, I was in complete agreement with him."
Julian tried to remember all the events as they had occurred. His last conscious thought was of being loaded into a carriage that sped through the night. "I suppose Grimsley was right. I can hardly remain around Williamsburg, since my identity has become known."
. "Would Your Grace like to eat now?" Hendrick asked. "The ship's cook has prepared a baked fish dish that is just the way you enjoy it."
Julian was suddenly impatient with his weakness, and he did feel hungry. "Yes, bring me something to eat, Hendrick. But first send in Miss Daymond."
Hendrick looked befuddled for an instant. "Your Grace, Miss Daymond is not on board the Monarch. Colonel Grimsley had her transported somewhere in South Carolina. He was of the opinion that you would want her to be tried and punished as soon as possible."
Julian felt all the life drain out of him. "What in the hell are you talking about, Hendrick? Explain everything to me in detail."
"Colonel Grimsley told me to assure you that the Swallow would receive the ultimate sentence for her treacherous acts. He assumed you wanted her to hang. I told him not to do anything rash until he talked to you, but he was sure he was carrying out your wishes."
"Damn his eyes!" Julian shouted. "I will have him stripped of his rank for this!"
Much to Hendrick's dismay, the duke staggered out of bed and stood swaying on his feet. "Where is the captain of this damned ship? I want to see him immediately! We have to turn back as soon as possible. 1 must prevent this monstrous deed!" Julian was unmindful of the searing pain that ripped through his back. All he could think about was his lovely Lavender dangling from a hangman's rope!
"But, Your Grace, there may not be enough time to stop the hanging. We are two days out of Virginia, and the young lady was taken to South Carolina."
"I know where Colonel Grimsley's headquarters are located, and I feel sure he has taken her there. Tell the captain I demand that he set a course for the Carolinas at once."
Hendrick did not bat an eye as he bowed from the waist and hastily went in search of the captain of the Monarch, to tell him to carry out the duke's orders. The Duke of Mannington wielded tremendous power, and the valet had no doubt that the ship would soon be changing its course to suit His Grace's demands.
> A short time later, Julian, under Hendrick's watchful eye, stood on deck as the canvas unfurled to catch the heady breeze while the captain altered the Monarch's course. Julian stared down at the swirling foam, and his heart was pounding in his throat. He had to make it to Grimsley's headquarters in time to save Lavender—he had to!
Lavender slowly regained consciousness to find that someone had picked her up from the floor where she had fainted and had placed her on the cot. She sat up slowly, and saw that the bedroom door was ajar and two men were conversing in the hallway. One of them was Colonel Grimsley; the other man she had never seen before.
She swung her feet off the bed and slowly stood. She no longer felt dizzy, but there was a sick feeling in her stomach, which caused a thin sheen of perspiration on her face. With hesitant steps, she moved to the window, hoping the feel of fresh air on her face might settle her stomach.
Lavender had not heard Colonel Grimsley enter the room and come up behind her. She was startled, and spun around when he touched her shoulder. "I am glad to see you are feeling better, Miss Daymond." He studied her pale face closely. "I had a local doctor examine you after you fainted. He assured me that there is nothing for you to concern yourself about." The lie stuck in Grimsley's throat. The doctor had, in fact, informed him that Lavender Daymond was with child, a fact of which she seemed totally unaware.
Lavender leaned over and braced her palms against the windowsill, allowing the slight breeze to cool her face. "I will be fine in a moment. If you would just give me some time to compose myself."
"Of course, of course," he readily agreed. "After I leave, you can continue with your bath, and I will have food sent up to you."
She stood up to her full height to face him. "Am I soon to be leaving this place?" Not knowing what was going to happen to her was unsettling. "Will my aunt be allowed to know where I am?"
"No, your aunt will not be informed of your whereabouts." His eyes gleamed. "You will never be allowed to leave this place." Now his eyes flickered, and she saw what she thought was pity reflected there. "It is my unhappy task to inform you that you will face a hearing tomorrow morning. If you arc found guilty, and I have no reason to believe otherwise, you will be hanged at dawn two days hence!"
Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) Page 20
