Never had she seen such a lovely gown. Not that extravagant gowns were much to her liking. She preferred simple beauty—like the azure floral she’d donned the night before. But this…this was a gown she could feel a woman in. Simplicity. Sophistication. Elegance. She might feel young again in such a gown. Not eight and twenty, far past her years of youth and beauty. Perhaps if she wore such a thing, Joseph would—
“If ever a gown were made for you, that one was.”
Joseph’s voice tapped her mind clear, and she turned as he stepped up beside her, his attention on the window display.
“Lovely.”
She grinned full without and within, following his lead and staring at the heavenly piece. “Aye. ’Tis…” Hannah shrugged, struggling to find the proper description. “’Tis perfection.”
Preparing to step away, ’twas Joseph’s words that stopped her. “If I hadn’t brought you here to dissuade you from going to the ball, I might have purchased this for you.”
A furrow folded over Hannah’s brow, and she was unsure whether to praise or protest. There it was. The reason for his bringing her along. The thought that he would be so concerned over her to insist she not attend tickled her insides in delightful ways, despite the questions that budded to life.
“I thought we already concluded my attendance was unquestionable.”
Joseph nodded to a passing stranger on the road before answering. “Your attendance would be helpful, but ’tis not imperative.”
He cocked his arm, and she took it, allowing a parting look at the beautiful creation before they crossed the street to the wagon.
“Stockton is becoming too possessive of you, and such a danger I cannot allow.”
Pulling her bottom lip through her teeth, Hannah watched her shoes take turns peeking from her petticoat as she walked. Perhaps her pretended coyness was too convincing, even if she did so only to gain more trust, in hope of Stockton spilling his secrets.
Joseph helped her back onto the wagon, then stood there, looking up at her with such yearning in his eyes she could do nothing but fall helplessly into their blue depths.
“Do not go with him.” It seemed almost pleading, the way he spoke. “For your safety, I must beg it of you.”
She would have answered him anything. But somehow, in that moment as he gazed up at her, another vision slid between them.
Ensign.
Mouth open, ready to answer his request, she clamped her mouth closed and dropped her gaze.
“Hannah…”
She swallowed, trying to free herself from the image that waved unfalteringly before her.
He rested his hand atop hers. “You do not have to risk your life simply because he gave his.”
She raised her now-burning eyes to his, embarrassed at how suddenly the memory had accosted her. “If I do not, how are we to remain in Stockton’s trust? How are we to get what knowledge we—”
The grip to her fingers stilled her voice, while his took its place. “We shall find a way. Perhaps here and now, we shall know in what way our army may proceed, and you can at last find safety away from the foundry.”
He slipped his hand from hers and rounded the wagon, at her side again in only a handful of seconds. Gently flicking the reins, he glanced to her. “I’ve a mind not to take you back.”
“What?” The cold mist tickled the hairs around her ear, and she held firm to the cloak tied at her neck. “What do you mean? Are you in earnest?”
Joseph directed the horses left. “If we continue in this much longer, I fear Stockton will not let you go.”
“Not let me go?”
His jaw worked, his next confession slicing her clear through.
“I plan to arrange for someone to take you back to camp.”
“What?” The horses’ ears swiveled back as her voice echoed through the trees. She turned in her seat and reined in her volume, shock riding her words. “Joseph, you cannot do that.”
He shook his head. “I should not have allowed this in the first place, and after today—Hannah, that man is dangerous. I won’t have you scribing for him, and I certainly won’t have you attending a ball with him.”
“He believes I am spoken for. I doubt that—”
“You think that will dissuade him from increasing his attentions to you?”
Shameful heat pricked her ears, and she moved her gaze away as he continued.
“’Tis too familiar, Hannah. If you continue to accept such offers, he shall begin to think you favor him, and what then?”
Hannah stared at her knees, studying the homespun fabric of her petticoat. The creak of the wagon, the muffled clomp of the horses’ hooves on the road seemed to tap the sliver of truth ever deeper into her flesh. Joseph was right, of course. She’d known Stockton’s attentions were gaining intensity, but she was ignorant of the severity. Was she not supposed to be a Tory? Was she not supposed to pretend all politeness and respect for the army so she could pry from them their best-held secrets?
Another thought shoved her so hard she gripped the edge of the seat. Perhaps Joseph simply wished to be rid of her? Like a radiating summer heat, the memory of their almost kiss warmed through her. He didn’t seem to dislike her presence, but then again she didn’t really know him, did she? It had been ten years since they’d last loved, and to think she could still read the quirk of his mouth or the slope of his posture was ridiculous.
Then, as if her voice was not her own, the truth jumped from her lips like an innocent from prison. “I don’t want to leave.”
He peered at her, the movement of his head and eyes toward her, though slight, carried a weight far deeper than his expression could contain. Deep and soft, his gaze washed over her like a calming pool. As if he knew her meaning even when she herself fully did not, he quirked his head to the side, his smile at that slant that made her stomach weightless.
“But you must.”
“Why?” She swerved against the seat, her knees touching his legs. “Joseph, Eaton Hill is my home. I refuse to allow those barbarians to destroy it.”
“I would never allow that. Just as I will not allow you to be placed in any more danger.”
His firm sincerity stilled her forthcoming reply for only a moment. “But you shall not be there forever, and what am I to do when…” That future she’d been unable to see, unable or unwilling, crashed like a blow to the chest. What would she do? Once Joseph was back with the troops, when the soldiers raped the foundry for all it had, was she to stay there alone? The new owner of Eaton Hill would not return until after the war, and there was no telling how long this conflict with England would last.
She blinked, failing to clear her thoughts as she faced frontward. So many feelings crowded up to her mouth ’twas all she could do not to spill them out all over the quiet. The strongest of all pressed hard against her teeth. I don’t want to be without you.
“I will make sure you are not alone, Hannah.”
Joseph’s calming timbre brushed against her skin like the delightful touch of his fingers. His hand covered hers, and she looked up, captured by the rawness in his ever-blue eyes. “I will be sure you are safe.”
Like a flood, the worries she’d tried to hold back breached their barrier, spilling over into the dry places she wished to keep safe. “Joseph, Ensign sold Eaton Hill.”
Only his eyes narrowed, and he moved his hand away, questioning her with his silence.
She went on, freeing herself from the weight of the harbored angst. “But he refused to tell me to whom he sold it, and now that Ensign is gone, how am I to know who this person is and if they will honor their agreement?”
Joseph looked forward, then at his hands, moving his thumb back and forth against the smooth leather. His mouth a firm line, he breathed hard through his nose. “Hannah, there’s something I—” He halted and tugged the horses right, whatever he’d prepared to speak shoved aside as a small house peeked at them through the trees. “We’re here.”
The small cabin, s
o quaint with its smoking chimney and candled windows, was minuscule compared to the large barn behind it.
Hannah gazed at Joseph. Expression stern, his eyes were fixed, as if his mind was already struggling in battles that were yet to be fought.
“Stay with me.” Voice taut, he swung her a fierce look. “Should anything happen—”
“Welcome! I’ve been expecting you.”
Both Hannah and Joseph jerked at the sudden bellowed pronouncement. From around the cabin, a tall fellow, slight of frame and balding, waved them forward and around to the barn.
“Aye, aye, this way. You may leave your wagon right there, excellent.”
Joseph shot Hannah another fleeting look that warned her to stay cautious despite the man’s surprising hospitality before he leapt down and met the man in front of the horses. “Willis Plains?”
“At your service.” The man extended his hand.
Joseph gripped it and grinned. “You received word of our coming then?”
“Indeed.” Willis nodded and continued as Joseph helped Hannah from the wagon. “Your foresight is wise. I’m pleased you wished to make such a journey.” He leaned forward and winked as he led them toward the house. “Though I suspect Stockton wasn’t too pleased to have to say farewell to either of you for even a few hours.”
He chuckled to himself as he opened the door and ushered them in.
One hand at her back, Joseph let Hannah enter before him.
Instantly the homey scent of the fireplace and hot coffee somewhere in a pot made the strange surroundings seem welcome, warming. She stepped farther in as Joseph closed the door, and Willis hurried forward, gesturing to a seat nearest the fire.
Small but powerful, the fire’s heat reached out to her as if it knew somehow she craved its companionship. Joseph took the seat beside her, his long legs and large frame dwarfing the compliant seat he’d been offered. He tossed Hannah a look, more amused than solemn.
Willis peered out the window beside the door, then shoved the lock in place.
Spinning on his heel, the man marched the few steps toward them, sliding the last chair opposite Joseph. The bright merriment eased to pensive sincerity, that aimless tone to his voice replaced with a depth that rivaled even Joseph’s.
Hand on his knee, Willis leaned forward, his gaze clutching Joseph. “I am very glad you have come, brother.”
Chapter Nineteen
Joseph sat up as Willis’s admission drew his spine straight. Could he be…
He glanced to Hannah, whose knitted fingers and rigid posture told him she too was at a loss of what to say.
Unable to respond, Joseph slanted his head, studying the enigmatic figure before him. If indeed this man was a Patriot, their work against the enemy could be combined, but if he was not…
As if Joseph had spoken the questions aloud, Willis sat back, an understanding slide to his lips. “I do not blame you for questioning.” He nodded, answering the words Joseph didn’t voice. “I too am a spy and am under the command of Washington.”
“Washington?”
“Aye.” Willis pointed to the kettle over the fire, his eyebrows raised.
Joseph shook his head.
The man continued. “I was offered this post not long after Bunker Hill. My family are all Tories, and ’twas assumed I was one as well. The cover was perfect.”
One word made Joseph’s back prick. “Was?”
“It seems there is an informant about.” Willis’s expression dulled, but his tone sharpened. “Lieutenant Greene was here a few days past, prying where he ought not. Do you know him?”
Joseph needn’t look to Hannah to know that she stiffened. “We do.”
“You don’t care for him either, I take it.” He huffed, shaking his head. “I feared I might have been discovered, but thus far it seems I am not suspected, thank the Lord.”
Joseph ventured further. “How do you know of our mission? We have told no one.”
Standing, Willis went to the mantel and shimmied out a stone from the side. Retrieving a letter from the cavity, he unfolded the paper and looked it over. “I received word from Captain Donaldson about your arrival at the foundry and your mission.” He handed the letter to Joseph. “I knew ’twas only a matter of time before you came.”
Joseph read the message in pleasant shock before handing the note back to Willis. “It seems you know more of this than I.”
“I am plagued with needing to know everything that happens.” He replaced the letter behind the stone. “’Tis a burden, though I am pleased to bear it for what good will come…what good I hope will come of our efforts.”
Joseph spied Hannah, whose tight features showed her surprise and continuing suspicion. She was right to worry, as they knew nothing of the man, but there was something about him that seemed far too sincere to be questioned.
When Willis was seated, Joseph moved forward with the mission at hand. “I’ve brought the barrels.”
“Excellent. Get up a moment. There’s something I would show you.” Willis motioned for them to stand before he pulled away his and Joseph’s chairs and removed the crude rug. Stooping, he raised a hidden door in the planked wood. Deep, and filled halfway with muskets, lead, barrels of powder and cannonball, the hidden cellar was cavernous. Joseph’s mouth would have hinged open if he hadn’t intentionally held it shut.
Hannah’s eyes were wide and her lips tight, as if she too was attempting not to gasp in surprise.
Willis straightened like a proud bird showing his nest. “Two hundred and fifty muskets, two thousand rounds, and three hundred cannonball. Along with the gun barrels you are to deliver, I’d say that’s a fair prize for the waiting men in Roxbury and Cambridge.”
“Good heavens.”
Hannah’s half-breathed exclamation echoed Joseph’s very thoughts.
“Incredible.” She raised her head and caught Joseph with her awe-filled expression.
He answered with a raise of the brow and disbelieving smile. He’d never have imagined it either.
Willis motioned for Joseph to help him lower the floor’s hatch. With rug and chairs back in place, they took their seats, as if they hadn’t just witnessed a storehouse of the army’s lifeblood.
“There is a raid planned for the early morning of Sunday, February fourth.” Willis leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His timbre had gone from serious to lethal. “We have planned it to the minute. Several hours after your delivery here, the Patriots will make their supposed attack. I shall be abed, pretending to be shocked and horrified at their arrival yet completely helpless to stop them.”
“But there are other soldiers about.” Joseph sat back in the small chair, his leg muscles ticking with the rise of tension. “How can you be sure they will not get word of this?”
“There is always concern, which is why secrecy is critical.” Willis glanced to Hannah then back to Joseph. “But we have cause for hope. We have organized it thus because that is the night of―”
“The night of the ball.”
Both men turned to Hannah. Chin raised, resolve and determination radiated in her rich, green eyes. “All the officers will be frolicking at the ball several miles from here while the Patriots make off with their stores.”
Approval and undeniable respect lit Willis’s face as he nodded at Hannah’s statement. “Aye. You are a wise woman. Wise and devilishly brave.” He shifted his eyes to Joseph. “If you can obtain an invitation—”
“I have one,” Hannah answered.
Joseph’s stomach curled into stone.
“You do?” Willis pulled his shoulders back. “In truth?”
She nodded, expression earnest yet calm. “Stockton has invited me to attend with him.”
A light breath left Willis’s parted mouth. “This is surely a blessing from heaven. With you there to keep Stockton and the others blissfully entertained, we may with more security do what must be done.” He reached out and took one of Hannah’s hands in both of his. “Your offering will n
ot be forgotten.”
Dear Lord, no. No. Joseph’s muscles were hot and pulsing with dissent. He could not allow it. How could he submit to her acting in such a perilous capacity?
Hannah exhaled a petite breath when Willis released his hold. “I am most pleased to be of service to a cause so vital.”
Willis’s smile didn’t leave her. “And you will surely be protected, my dear. For God cannot but shelter one with so pure a heart.”
She bowed her head, cheeks pink. Tipping her face toward Joseph, the look she handed him slashed his heart as the courage he’d seen on her face in the tent that first time showered over her once again. She knew it, as well as he. She must go to the ball—her work now more vital than it ever was before.
Devil’s spit. How was he to endure the knowledge she would be there with that beast? Nay. ’Twas too dangerous. He would not allow it. But the objection he tossed to her from his expression was hurled away by the subtle drop of her chin.
Joseph’s core tightened, and he looked down, studying the frayed edge of the rug beneath them. He would speak of this with her on the ride back. After a heavy breath that did nothing to relieve his angst, he raised his head. “Has anyone else seen what is below our feet?”
Willis shook his head. “I’ve several muskets hidden in hollow hay bales in the barn that I use to prove my work to the British. The Patriots know of this, but the Redcoats do not—and I pray to keep it that way.” He rose and motioned to the door. “You should not stay overlong, lest prying eyes become suspicious.”
Joseph followed Willis’s lead and moved to the exit, Hannah behind. He shook the man’s hand. “We thank you, sir.”
“And I you.” The lines around his eyes deepened as a smile lifted across his worn face. “I have never seen a more aptly paired team. Husband and wife in the secret service of Washington? Excellent indeed.”
Husband and wife? Though he knew he should rectify the blunder instantly, the misunderstanding nurtured a long-forgotten yearning, and Joseph was reluctant to correct him. He could feel the heat rising in Hannah’s cheeks though he didn’t look her way, and he cleared his throat.
So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 4) Page 19
