by Jerri Hines
She drew a deep breath and paused at her grandmother's door. Ever so gently she turned the handle. Darkness enveloped the room. Taking a moment, her eyes adjusted to the dark. Her grandmother's body had been removed. This would be her only chance. She would not get another opportunity.
Calmly as she could manage, she walked across the room to the French doors. Her heart pounded as she listened for any movement behind her. She didn't dare look back.
The cool night air hit her as she left behind her grandfather's house. A sensation ran through her, a cool, frightening sensation as she closed in on her objective. She refused to think, only react. Glancing around for any movement, the beauty of the spring night lost upon her.
She scurried over to the bench and pulled with all her strength. The iron rod bench proved to be a challenge. She slung her cloak from around her, but her determination drove her until she had pulled it close enough to the wall. Then and only then did she glimpse back.
She pushed all thoughts from her mind. The whole of her life had spun out of control. She should have left as she had promised Lydia. She paused only for a moment and returned to her mission.
From the top she dropped down, holding with her two hands stretched and released. She fell backwards onto the stone street. She held her breath. Only one obstacle down, if she had any chance of escaping, she needed a horse. She eyed her grandfather's stable. She walked cautiously around the back of the stables. She only needed a bridle; she would have no time to saddle. With the stable boys sleeping in the loft, the odds of her not waking anyone at this point were minimal at best.
As she feared, the horses spooked. She gently grabbed the one in the first stable. She recognized him as a fine mount. She hadn’t long. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would break through her body. Her hands trembled. She couldn't get the bridle buckled. She heard rumbling above in the loft.
Shouts resounded from the street. She had no time. She jumped up and rode into the street. Her eyes caught a flash of red emerging down the street, moving straight toward her.
She whipped the reins, pulling the horse's head in the opposite direction. Her heart raced in fear of hearing a shot emerge in the darkness, but none came from behind her. Not from behind, but in front.
A sinister man appeared from the alley. He stood in front of her and aimed a pistol directly at her. Hannah didn't slow, but urged the horse forward. As if reading her mind, the horse responded and jumped the man. The man fell motionless on the street when the horse’s back hoof knocked him in his head. The gun fell harmlessly from his hand.
Hannah landed roughly and slid to the side. Her legs squeezed tightly; holding on for dear life. She regained her seat and then breathed deeply.
The street lay open in front of her…her escape. From behind, movement caught her eye. Turning ever so slightly, she could make out a band of men emerging from the alley with the British soldiers running straight into their sights with Captain Elliot leading the way. Her mind yelled run, freedom lies before you, run. Her conscience, the voice which had lain dormant, screamed within her.
From her vantage point she saw well the men aiming well at the British running after her. She glanced once more over at the open street. Then she turned back and withdrew her pistol. She could hear screaming at her to stop. She pointed to the alley if they could make out her movements. She took no more time as she fired upon the one who had his pistol aimed at Captain Elliott.
The man fell down. The others scrambled, but Hannah saw no more. The shot she fired had scared her mount. The horse reared back. The pistol fell from her hands as she tried desperately to stay upon the horse, but to no avail.
The next instant she lay along the street surrounded by soldiers as others dispersed to chase the assailants. Tom forcibly reached down and pulled her to her feet. At that moment a letter fell from her cloak pocket. Hannah at first didn't notice until a soldier bent down and retrieved it.
“Captain, you better see this.” The soldier handed the letter to Captain Elliott. He glanced over it quickly. His face hardened. He nodded to the soldier who laid hold of Hannah.
* * * *
Captain Elliot said nothing when he transported Hannah back to the residence of his Colonel, but the same guards lay stationed outside her door. Tom walked her to the door of the bedroom she had shared with Marcus. He opened it.
“I'm afraid you won't be allowed anywhere other than here at the moment. All will have to be sorted out.”
“The letter wasn't mine,” she said. “It doesn't help that I have no knowledge of it. Nothing matters at the moment, does it, as long as you follow orders! Have you no feelings?”
“My feelings have nothing to do with it. It's a duty,” he said simply. “I don't understand you, Hannah. You had an open escape for whoever waited in the alley would have occupied our time. Freedom could have been yours if that is what you sought.”
“Maybe I'm tired of all around me dying,” she answered without looking up.
* * * *
Hannah paced the room. From her window, she had seen Captain Elliott return. Five days had passed and no one had said one word to her. She waited. Her heart sank. She hit her head against the wall as she leaned back against it. How stupid could she have been? Gannon had to have planted a letter in her cloak and she hadn't even a clue of what it could be. Her biggest mistake had been riding back. She had only herself to blame.
A light knock on the door brought her back to the present. Tom walked in. He took off his hat. He looked down at the floor. She realized in that moment the news wouldn't be good.
“I wanted to tell you myself, for I felt I owe you,” he said. “I know only that you're to be arrested.”
Her face fell. Panic gripped her soul. She turned to him and pleaded. “Tom, please. I was trapped. I have lived this charade. I know well we sit at opposite ends, but please help me. Let me go.”
He hesitated and slowly shook his head. She grabbed his hands.
“Don't, Hannah. I can't, even if I wanted to. Haven’t you noticed the guards downstairs? The Colonel has returned. He'll be here shortly. I have done all I can. I informed the General of your actions of returning. If not for you, I'm certain a few would have been lost that night, but Hannah I can't undo what was found.”
She stared at Tom. “This I'll tell you. I know nothing of what was found on me,” she said. “And if I was doing as I'm accused, I can assure you, you would have found nothing on me.”
“And why would that be?” a voice from behind her asked. She didn't turn for she knew well Marcus’ voice. “That will be enough, Tom.”
Marcus waited until Tom left the room and close the door. She didn’t make a move. He grabbed her arm and jerked her to face him. Without warning, he slapped her. She fell back onto the floor. Her face stung, but she didn't flinch. She refused to acknowledge him. He reached down and jerked her back up to her feet and leaned close to her ear.
“Whether you like it or not, you should have listened to me! You promised me. I have done everything within my power for you. This time I can do nothing,” he said within her ear. His grip loosened, but his eyes stayed directly upon her. She retreated a step. “You betrayed me, Hannah.”
She could feel wrath shoot forth from her eyes. “I don’t know what I've been accused of. Is this British justice? Or you mad because I tried to return home?”
“Justice? Hannah, they found a letter with information pertaining to Lieutenant Fletcher and his assignment,” he said angrily. “How can you explain?”
Hannah's mind raced. She answered simply. “I wrote no note.”
“Hannah, have you no idea what happened to Lieutenant Fletcher and his group?” he walked closer to her to watch her reaction.
Hannah slightly shook her head. He turned his back to her for a moment and then turned back around to her. “The group was discovered and hung a week ago.”
“Dead,” she whispered. She fell upon her knees. Her thoughts took her back to when Cora visited.
She measured Camilla who was talking about Simon. She must have repeated back to Tepper. “Oh, my God! No.”
“You, my dear, have played well over your head,” he slung the water basin upon the chest against the wall, crashing it into a million pieces. He picked her up by her shoulders. “Didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I try to save you?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Was I supposed to fall down upon my knees to thank you? You know well my passion for my cause and do not doubt that's its waned. You say I played over my head. Well answer me this. If I was leaving, why would I write a note? A simple message I believe I would be more than capable of repeating without writing. Also, if it's as you stated and they were hung a week ago, wasn't that well after they found the note? Pray tell me.”
“You don't deny though you have in the past? And you did again?” he asked. His gripped tightened around her shoulders.
No words did she speak, but her eyes betrayed her. He pushed her back upon the bed. “Damnation! You fool!”
“What did you expect of me, Marcus?”
“A mess I have made of this,” he said as if to himself. His temper flared. “Tell me, did you use me too?”
“No, I never found anything from you,” she confessed. “But if I had, I would have used it. Make no err in thinking otherwise.”
“Do you know the contacts within the Patriot network?” he demanded. She could see from his eyes his anger. She refused to give an inch and didn't respond.
He turned from her and walked toward the door. “Tom was correct. Guards are here to officially arrest you. There's nothing I can do for you.”
“Marcus,” she said softly, fighting back tears. “Please, Gannon threatened Jonathan. I ask for nothing for myself. Jonathan has done nothing to deserve this. Please.”
Marcus said nothing but stood at the door and motioned for the guards. She stood. She made no more pleas. Holding her head high, she refused to look at him, but followed the guards that surrounded her.
Chapter Eight
“Colonel Durham, I'm happy to see you could make it.”
Marcus reined his horse in beside the other officer, acknowledging him in a proper fashion. “Captain Andre, you peaked my interest in our conversation last night.”
The young British officer sat with authority upon his horse. Slim of built with a youthful olive complexion and coal black hair, he maintained his military bearing. Although Marcus didn't know this young officer well, he had arranged the young man's prisoner exchange at the end of last year. Captain Andre had been captured at the surrender of St. John's in 1775. Marcus had arranged for the Captain to serve with General Charles Grey seeing in him potential for an outstanding officer.
From what Marcus had gathered, Andre had become quite as adept politician and staff officer of exceptional quality. General Howe had been quite impressed with the young officer.
Andre narrowed his eyes as he stared at Marcus, as if he was straightening out the details in his head. “I have to say, Colonel, I found the story quite fascinating. Gannon ranting about what he thinks the girl has done. He seems intent on her demise. Her grandfather, a prominent Tory. Her father hung as a Patriot spy.”
“I believe I know the story, Captain,” Marcus said bluntly. “Your interest?”
“Let's just say, Colonel. I owe you. I don't forget a debt. General Howe said you had your own suspicions and felt you had taken her out of the picture. After the scene the other night, what exactly do you think her capable of, Colonel Durham?” Andre asked.
“Between the two of us, Captain, in which I have also stated to General Howe before, I firmly believe she has had the capability to cause great damage in the position she has been in. I wouldn't disagree with Gannon that she’s capable of spying. I believe strongly it was her intent from the time she arrived in New York. What concerned me was when she stayed within New York after the occupation,” Marcus explained. “I have never been able to pinpoint a source of concern, more suspicions. I had her followed to no avail. She associated with many sorts of people, servants, merchants, reverends, and soldiers. I had believed the best course of action was to take her from her position, but after the incident, it will make it more difficult.”
“Her attempt to escape shouldn't have come as a surprise if what you said is true,” Andre said. “Her actions, though, coming back as she did to save you man, Elliot. Why would she do such?”
“I believe she has stated too many have perished by Gannon's hand,” Marcus stated with a certain disdain in his voice. “She didn't want another on her conscience, but she stated plainly she felt she could have gotten away. Unfortunately, in her opinion, she couldn't. Unfortunately for us, we can't connect Gannon to the attack directly as of yet. The only one we had hold of is the one she shot and killed.”
“She's capable of such. I had heard, but wasn't certain,” Andre said as if impressed.
Marcus hesitated. He shot Andre a look, but continued. “She's perfectly capable of doing all she has been accused.”
Captain Andre returned his look with a smile. “Pray, continue. I find it of the utmost interest.”
“After her actions of the other night, it leaves little doubt, but no proof she has knowledge of a network, at the least a connection to such. I have to agree with her that the letter seemed as a plant. Elliott confirmed Gannon visited that morning. Why would she give information that most already knew had already been accomplished? As it did with her grandfather, he's a hard, cruel man who wouldn't take well to what he would consider treachery. And her cousin, Georgie Boy, is renowned for such actions,” Marcus said, but looked away, not wanting his concern to be betrayed.
“If I'm not mistaken, you have a personal interest with the young lady.”
One side of Marcus's lips curved upward, but he didn't respond.
Captain Andre shrugged, “I can assure you Colonel, I would hate for something to happen to one such as her. From my point of view, I see a golden opportunity for all involved, at least from my perspective. Would you care to hear it?”
Marcus dipped his head as a sign to continue. The two rode on.
* * * *
The guard pulled Hannah into the open doorway. She jerked back her arm and watched him close the door soundly behind her. Taking a deep breath in, she turned to the one waiting for her within the small, confined room.
“Make yourself comfortable, Miss Corbett,” Captain Andre said indicating the seat for her to take. She had seen him observe her from afar when they arrested her.
“I'm Captain John Andre. I'm assigned to General Gray, but I expressed an interest in your case and General Howe graciously has allowed me to intervene. Let me start by saying how greatly impressed I've been with you, Miss Corbett. I don't know of many men that could accomplish what you have,” Andre said with a charming smile.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She glared at him. Never acknowledge, never.
His smile widened. “Miss Corbett, Joseph Gannon has made some extremely serious accusations against you. And didn’t you attempt to escape from custody?”
It was Hannah's turn to smile. “Captain Andre, I know nothing of what Mr. Gannon is accusing me of. So it would be impossible for me to answer. As for my attempt to depart New York, in that I failed. Did I not? So I can't comprehend your admiration.”
Captain Andre stood. He walked to the window. “Such a lovely time of the year, isn’t it? In a way it reminds me of my home. Do you miss your home, Miss Corbett?” He didn't give her time to answer. “I can well imagine you do. I'm sure we have differing views, but it doesn't mean we can't respect each other.”
“In that I'm afraid I have to disagree with you. I have seen too much. And am I not a prisoner?” Hannah spoke calmly.
“Up to now, you have been treated with the utmost respect. Do you have any complaints about your treatment up to this moment?” Andre asked. He walked closer to her. “I'm afraid that this is the price of war. Which I might remind you, the colonies began. As I t
alk with you, I can see how you would have been a target for one who wanted to use you. Having the views I'm sure you hold, young and naive, in the position you were in. It would only be understandable if someone asked you to help your cause,” he said simply,watching her reaction.
Hannah laughed. “Are you, Captain, worried that I was able to help my cause? I'm afraid I wouldn't make a good spy. I have never been able to be other than who I am. If I am a concern, do with me what you must, for Captain I don't care!”
“Such feelings, Miss Corbett. I can assure you I didn't mean to upset you. I do so hate confrontations.”
His manner was such to disarm her defenses for he had a charming way about him. She stared at him, but there was something which warned her that he could be a dangerous adversary.
Captain Andre sat back down and stared at her. She lowered her eyes.
“This conversation is getting me nowhere. Is it, Miss Corbett? I'm forced to take another course of action. A more direct one, I'm afraid.”
He stood, coming to the front of the desk. He placed his hand under her chin. Her eyes directed toward his. “Listen with care, Miss Corbett. I don't suspect that you have been spying. I have no doubt. You have done an excellent job, I'm confident. Now let me tell you what you're going to do which I'm confident you will find beneficial to you, one way or the other. You're going to help us.”
“I would never!” she stated emphatically.
A smirk appeared upon Captain Andre's face. “We shall see. Won't we, Miss Corbett? We shall see.”
