Another thought hit him straight in the chest. She was now his only connection to who he really was. She was the only one he could see on a regular basis that knew Matthew Weber, the real Matthew Weber, the Patriot.
Soft footfalls on the snow made him go to the crook of the building to meet her. Excitement built in his chest to see her again.
As she rounded the corner, she gasped. “Gracious, Matthew. I was not expecting you to be right there.”
He gave her a smile and put a finger over his lips. Tilting his head, he motioned for her to follow him.
Earlier, he’d found a door unlocked. Surely the Lord wouldn’t be upset with them for sneaking into the meetinghouse for some warmth.
He made his way into the church and led her into the far south corner. “Here. If we sit on the pew here, I do not believe we can be seen if anyone enters. We will just keep our voices low so they do not echo. Are you warm enough?” The room held quite a chill.
Faith sat and wrapped her cloak around her a little tighter. “I wasn’t expecting to be able to meet inside, so I’m dressed for warmth.” The smile she gave him made him feel special.
“I have several messages that need to be coded and sent on. This will be the final test of the women’s skill. From here on out, everything will be in code.”
She nodded and tucked them into her skirt. Faith pulled out a different folded note. “This one is of utmost importance.”
Matthew sighed as he took the paper. “I am sure they all will be very soon.”
She nodded again. “I have been given instructions on what to wear. Since I am a widow, it will not be a lie to say I am a widow, and whenever you and I meet, they want me to wear black. To aid in the cover of dark.”
“That’s a good plan.”
She raised an eyebrow. “They also believe a veil might be a good idea so my face isn’t recognizable, but I told them that it might draw more attention to me.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Sometimes the men do not think about these things. Women will notice.”
Smart. Very smart. Her comment about women noticing made him very aware that yes, women always looked at each other’s clothes. Had the other men thought of this or only thought to try and disguise her as much as possible? “Do you agree that wearing black is a good plan?”
She leaned forward, a sparkle in her eye as she shook her head. “I have already set my maid working on several dresses that are all very dark in color. One is dark green, one a deep blue, and another a dark burgundy. That way you know the colors. I think that will suffice. If I am wearing all black and anyone recognized me, they would wonder why I would be bringing out my widow’s garb after all these years. No reason to call attention to my movements because of what I wear. I will avoid wearing any lighter colors for when we meet. I also have a black cloak and scarf so that I can cover my face if need be. While the weather is cold, I think that is the best plan.”
“I agree. Uh…that is, I think your idea is a better plan.” Matthew moved under the window to catch some light from the moon. “Scoot over here—it’s a little brighter.” He couldn’t help it. He wanted to see her and know everything about her.
She did and he caught a look at her eyes. They weren’t light brown at all. They had a greenish tint to them that was very charming in the moonlight. “Your eyes are green?” The question was out before he could stop it.
A light laugh left her lips. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“ ‘Tis been dark every time we have met and I am just now seeing the color. They are lovely.”
She ducked her head. “Thank you.”
“Have you journeyed to Plymouth yet?”
“Not yet. We have had a lot to keep us busy of late.” She relaxed a bit against the pew, and placed her hands in her lap.
“If you go, will you let my sister know I am in good health, just busy?”
“I would be most happy to. In fact, if you would like to write her a letter, I will gladly hand deliver it.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you. I am certain she will be very glad to hear from me. It’s been too long.” Watching her, Matthew felt a little thrill that she was completely focused on him. An awfully selfish thought, but he couldn’t help it. “How have you gotten along lately? Well, I hope?”
“Yes, very.” She looked down for a moment, but the smile that lit up her face couldn’t be missed. “I have been so busy with the women’s aid group that I have not had a lot of extra time on my hands. Which is good. I do not wish to focus on the difficult and possibly dangerous times ahead, I would much rather enjoy each moment and do my very best to serve the Lord.” She tilted her head in a way that he’d learned signaled she was about to ask him a question. “And you?”
The air between them seemed charged, and Matthew hesitated. The moment was awkward and comfortable and terrifying all at the same time. Warning bells went off in his head. Her words came back to him. Dangerous and difficult times. What was he doing? What was he thinking? The longer he kept her, the more danger to them both. How selfish could he be? She tried to stay busy so she wouldn’t have to think about all that was at stake, and here he was taking it all for granted. What kind of man was he?
Against everything within him, he made himself get to his feet. “My deepest apologies, Faith. It is quite inconsiderate of me to keep you any longer. I wish you no harm.” He bowed and watched several expressions wash across her face. The stricken look she held transformed into a mask of uncertainty. Not knowing how to mend the situation, Matthew raced to the side door through which they’d entered. Outside, he strode to the next building and hid behind it so he could watch her leave and make sure she was all right.
Several moments later, she exited the building and slipped away into the night.
Matthew raked a hand through his hair, releasing the tie at the nape. He longed to spend more time with her, but that conflicted with everything he knew he had to do.
Immerse himself with the Loyalists. Cut all ties.
But that didn’t mean Faith, did it? She was the only one he could meet. The only one with whom he could have any semblance of normality. The only one he could be real with.
All the feelings and thoughts he’d had on the way to meet her were now in conflict with his logical processing of the future. She’d even expressed it—she had to stay busy so she didn’t think about the difficult and dangerous times ahead. And they were indeed facing the unknown. Who knew what they would face? The dangers that were possible? The war that was inevitable. He couldn’t risk her.
But could he risk not spending time with her? He found himself thinking of her many times each day. And she was his lifeline to the reality of who he truly was.
The look on her face when he’d dashed out of the meetinghouse replayed over and over in his mind.
What had he done?
Anthony commanded his driver to take him to Mrs. Jackson’s home. These playing at niceties and following the rules of etiquette were inconceivable. He was a man. It was time for him to be the man and take charge of the situation. Mrs. Jackson had an exemplary reputation, so he was certain that she played coy and kept her distance so that society would approve.
Well, what could it hurt for him to take the next step? He would call on her at her home. There was no harm in that. They were both older and more mature. It wouldn’t be imprudent for him to visit. Besides, he needed to move things along.
Taxes were up and supplies were down. As much as he tried to build his own little empire, it was becoming increasingly difficult. And as soon as he depleted his own funds, he’d need another source of income. Mrs. Faith Jackson’s would do nicely.
She was also quite pleasing to the eye. Still of childbearing age, she would be the perfect choice to bear him heirs and mother his children.
The plan was perfect. If only this blasted conflict weren’t taking place. But then, he needed the conflict. He needed for the Colonies to get out of British clutches so he could show the King exactly who he was. How dare
the man decline his request again. It didn’t make sense.
Of course, if the Colonies couldn’t defeat England, then Anthony would have to pay homage to the King once again—except this time, his worth would be far greater and good ol’ George His Majesty would have to see that Anthony was well deserving of title and station.
But only if it came to that. Right now, his plan was far better the way it was. He rather liked the idea of not having to answer to anyone, and wasn’t that what the Colonies wanted?
The carriage jerked to a stop, and Anthony hit his head on the side. Blasted driver. The man obviously needed training in how to carry a man of means without jostling him about unnecessarily.
When the door opened, he held his head high and stepped down. He checked his appearance and picked a piece of lint off his velvet breeches. The attire might be a bit ostentatious for an afternoon visit, but Anthony had an impression to make. Besides, he liked formal attire. His green coat and waistcoat were made of the same luxurious fabric with gold embroidery lavishly displayed, and his new powdered wig was of the finest design. Mrs. Jackson should be thrilled to see him and the effort he’d made. What lady wouldn’t?
He made his way to the front door of her massive home and smiled. This would all be his soon. Another wonderful home to add to his list of properties.
The door opened before he even reached the top step. What service! Now this was a servant who knew how to do his job well.
“Good afternoon.” The butler raised his brows but blocked the door.
Ah. Also a good guard of the premises. Well trained indeed. “Good afternoon.” Anthony pulled off his gloves and moved forward, daring the man to refuse him entrance. “Mr. Anthony Jameson for Mrs. Jackson, please.”
The butler eyed him for a moment and didn’t move, stopping Anthony’s forward motion. “Is Mrs. Jackson expecting you, sir?”
“Not at this moment, no. But we are well acquainted.” Anthony used his large size to move forward and stepped over the threshold. If the butler didn’t move, he’d have to run him over. “She will be most happy to see me, of that I am certain.”
The servant’s eyebrows lifted as he stepped back mere inches, watching Anthony the whole time. How rude. The man should know his place and not prolong eye contact with someone well above his station in life. Maybe he wasn’t as well trained as Anthony had thought. He gave a disgruntled humph just to make sure the man understood his displeasure.
The butler finally moved and closed the door behind him. “If you will allow me, sir.” He held out his hands.
Finally, some respect. Anthony handed over his tricorn hat and gloves, and the man helped him out of his cloak.
The butler then led him to the parlor. “Mr. Jameson, ma’am.”
The man slowly moved away as Anthony bowed. When he raised his head, he found himself looking at several women. Not just Mrs. Jackson. This was not as he planned.
Mrs. Jackson’s face appeared a bit pinched. She raised an eyebrow and greeted him. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Jameson? I was not expecting you.”
Every lady sitting in their circle held a bit of a frown. What was going on here? Why did they all look sour and a bit put out? “My apologies, Mrs. Jackson. I was hoping to entice you with an invitation.”
“As you can see, we are in the middle of a meeting, Mr. Jameson.” Mrs. Jackson gave him a slight smile. Ah, just as he suspected. She was glad to see him. “But you may leave your invitation with Clayton.”
Dismissed? Without even an invite to tea. What poor manners. When they were married, he’d have to work with her on the appropriate way to greet guests. “I shall come back tomorrow, then.”
A lady with white hair stood. “I am afraid we have another important meeting tomorrow. It will take most of the day.”
The butler—who he assumed must be Clayton—showed up at Anthony’s side. Perhaps he’d never left. The man was everywhere it seemed. “Sir, allow me to see you to the door.” Clayton turned back to the ladies, “I apologize for interrupting your meeting, ma’am. It will not happen again.”
“But…I …” Anthony found himself prodded along to the door like a lowly cow being led to the barn. “Well, I never.” He cleared his throat and lifted his chin.
Clayton handed him his things. “Thank you for stopping by.” He held the door open, and Anthony had no choice but to walk through.
It closed firmly behind him.
As he stood on the stoop, Anthony went through everything in his mind. Perhaps another day would be better. Mrs. Jackson was a very charitable woman and was probably deeply involved with a cause. Poor Clayton had just been doing his job, and Anthony probably got him in a bit of trouble with his mistress. That’s the only account Anthony could see from the brief time he was inside. He’d just have to try a different tactic next time. And make sure he didn’t put the butler in jeopardy of losing his job. The man had been very attentive. And good servants were so hard to find these days.
Yes, he’d just have to plan better next time.
The gnawing, worrisome feeling in the pit of Faith’s stomach could only be because of one thing—or more precisely, one man.
Anthony Jameson.
She was feeling fine as their meeting began. It was ludicrous that his short visit could cause such turmoil within her, yet it came upon her regardless of what her mind and logic told her.
Lavonia walked over to her. “Faith?”
She looked up at her friend. “Hm?”
“You have been sitting here all too quiet for several minutes.”
“And she is very pale. Have you noticed how pale she is?” Lydia squeaked.
“Indeed. She is white as a sheet.” Claudia nodded and took a sip of her tea. “Maybe she needs some liquor added to her tea.”
“Claudia!” Lavonia put a hand to her chest.
“What?” Claudia stirred her own cup of tea. “My doctor prescribes it all the time.” Lifting the cup to her lips, she sipped.
A chuckle started in Faith’s stomach and bubbled up. “My friends. I am fine.”
“Do you need some liquor?” Again, Claudia with her liquor.
“No, thank you, but I do appreciate all of your concern. And actually, laughter truly is good medicine. I allowed myself to worry there for a moment when I really needed to be thanking you all.” She reached over and grabbed Lavonia’s hand. “I am certain that we will be able to figure out how to handle Mr. Jameson if we just put our heads together.”
“Well!” Lavonia sat back and stiffened her shoulders. “We cannot abide that man. It’s worse than we thought, is it not?”
Faith shook her head. “This is the first time he has come without an invitation. And to my home. So I do not know what to think about what his intentions are, but he did seem quite put out that I gave him no invitation to sit or stay.”
“The man needs to be put out.” Lydia tsked several times. “He has no idea whatsoever how bothersome he is. He thinks that the world loves him and should love and adore him even more. And he thinks that he is entitled to more than anyone else. He told my husband as much on several occasions. I know this may shock you, but he is not above lying or cheating to get his way either.” This time she huffed. “I cannot abide the man.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “My apologies.”
Lavonia stood and placed a hand on Faith’s shoulder. “No apologies necessary, Lydia. I think we all get the picture, and we are in confidence together. We should—every one of us—feel safe to share our thoughts with one another as this is probably our only such place.” She cleared her throat and took a long, deep breath. “I think we all agree that this is serious. And with all that Faith is doing for the cause, it is of utmost importance that we protect her. Are we in agreement?”
Every lady stood and nodded.
“Good. Then let us resolve to make a plan. How do we help Faith avoid Mr. Jameson?”
Sleep eluded Faith as her mind deliberated over all the complicated facets of her
life. Giving up on sleep, she climbed out of bed and went downstairs to pray about it all by the fire.
First, there was the unwanted and disturbing attention of Mr. Anthony Jameson. Second, her new job as messenger. Third, that new job entailed meeting with Mr. Matthew Weber. A man whom she thought very highly of and hoped to get to know better. She’d thought he felt the same way. But now? Their next meeting was already scheduled for the coming Friday with instructions for them to meet every other day after that.
Things were moving at a rapid pace, and the stakes were much higher.
To deal with her first problem…well, the ladies agreed to help her with that. But it still annoyed her. And if she were honest, it worried her as well. More than she cared to admit. For the first time in all these years of living alone as a widow, she felt afraid of what a man would try. What if he got it into his mind sometime to follow her? What would he do if he discovered her mission as a messenger?
She banished those thoughts. Anthony Jameson wasn’t smart enough to keep up with her. He was an annoyance, yes, but now she was aware of his attention to her. She was an independent and smart lady. She could outsmart him.
Besides she could outrun him, that was for certain.
She nodded. Independent and capable had always been how people described her. Yes, she was considered to be old and set in her ways because she had turned down uncountable suitors. But they had all been after her money! And she refused to marry again for convenience. She had plenty of money and could take care of herself. Besides, she liked having her own mind.
Her second problem was silly. It was simply fear of the unknown. But if she readily admitted her true feelings, her only fears stemmed out of the fact that Matthew had stepped away so abruptly the last time they met. So when she really analyzed it, problems two and three were inexplicably tied to each other. Would she have a second problem if she felt as comfortable as she had with Matthew from the beginning?
The Patriot Bride Page 9
