by RITA GERLACH
“They dislike me, Theresa.”
“Pay no mind to them,” Theresa replied.
“Is it because I’m English? Is that why they hate me?”
Theresa sighed. “People are quick to judge the English these days. However I believe it’s because you married Captain Nash.”
She passed a bush and pulled off a leaf. “But they don’t know me.”
“They’re jealous. Can you blame them? He’s ever so handsome, and owns one of the prettiest tracks of land in Maryland. You must have stolen his heart at first sight.”
“I admit he stole mine.”
While they walked along Rebecah unfolded the story of their romance. But soon a booming voice drowned out the words. Standing on a wooden bench, clenching his fists and beating them in the air, stood a darkly clad man.
“Jezebels are among us!” he cried.
The veins on his neck and forehead stood out so clear and blue they looked ready to burst.
“Jezebels, I say, and heed my warning. They come from England. They come from France. They come to defile your beliefs in liberty. They come to defile your menfolk with their charms and rob them of their fortunes. These are she-wolves in ewes’ clothing.”
Theresa took Rebecah by the arm. “Let us move on, Rebecah. He speaks senseless prattle.”
But Rebecah hesitated.
“King George has his men to debate and politicize and enslave us beneath his rule.” Spittle oozed and foamed in the corners of the man’s mouth. “The Queen has her minions as well to weave their snares.”
“I agree with him concerning the King. But he accuses the Queen too harshly,” Rebecah whispered.
“It’s to stir up the people,” Theresa told her. “He wants trouble. Let’s move on.”
“These deceivers come to our county from gentry stock. We mustn’t allow them to undermine our determination, or to worm their way into our society, a society we mean to build upon the sweat of our brows and the blood of our patriots.”
He bellowed fire and brimstone, his smutty cravat loose about a sinewy neck. His piercing eyes latched onto Rebecah. He pointed a bony finger straight at her.
“Yes, you’re right, Theresa.” And she moved on with Theresa beside her.
“See there,” the man shouted. “One is among you.” Heads turned. Rebecah’s breath caught.
Nash rounded the corner with Mr. Boyd.
“Here, sir!” he shouted back. He moved with Mr. Boyd through the crowd. “You dare accuse that lady? Who are you?”
“The name is Pike.” The slanderer dropped his hand and drew back his shoulders. “And I do dare to accuse any woman who is of the Devil.”
Before the words were out of Pike’s mouth, Nash grabbed him by the breast of his coat. No one in the crowd interfered, but stood in rapture of what was to happen next.
“Say it to my face again, Pike, and you will regret it!” Nash warned.
“I’ve no quarrel with you.”
“The woman you slander is my wife. You’ll apologize and leave our town.”
“There’s no crime in what I say. I pity you for the situation you’ve gotten into. From what I hear, she married you within days of her arrival, in a barn, not a church, beneath a full moon.”
Nash stared at him. “We were bound in marriage by a man of God, beneath God’s heaven.”
Boyd stepped forward, as did the other men of the town. “Your sheep’s clothing is ease to detect,” Boyd said. “The good people of this town will not tolerate you. Though most of us are loyal to The Cause, we will not have you slander our women. I suggest you do as Captain Nash demands.”
Nash released his grip. Pike smoothed the front of his coat. “Signs of enchantment and witchcraft.”
The next thing Pike felt was Nash’s fist square across his jaw. He stumbled back and fell into the street. “I shall yield to your assault. It’s obvious you’ve no ears to hear. But the truth shall be revealed, and I hope not a moment too late.”
With a lift of his head, Pike dusted off his coat, and turned himself out into the crowd. People scoffed and told him to hurry on his way. Words like mocker, blasphemer, and crazed lunatic were spoken as he passed by.
A tear ran down Rebecah’s cheek. She brushed it away thinking it were silly for her to be so hurt. She looked across the street to see her husband coming toward her. His steps were deliberate, his look grave and concerned.
“The man’s a fool!” Nash said, anger still burning in his eyes.
“Indeed he is. I don’t think he’ll be back.” Boyd drew up alongside the Nashs. “Now let us get to our supper before it grows cold. Our cook has an apple pie waiting.”
CHAPTER 14
Annapolis, October
Not once had Rebecah mentioned the odd speaker and his flaming accusations. Her husband’s hand in hers was enough to ease her. Everything they had been through brought them closer together. And new challenges faced them.
Lord Dunmore had dissolved the House of Burgesses in Virginia for voting aid to Boston, inflaming every patriot from the Carolinas to Maine. Dare he support the starvation of men, women, and children? Dare he condone to cut them off and hold them hostage? To force the people of Boston to suffer was unthinkable, and the governor of Maryland held his tongue against Dunmore.
A Continental Congress was called. The Intolerable Acts were denounced. Boycotts on English goods defied the Empire. The Americans violated the law by making more wool rather than depend on English cloth. America struggled and clawed toward liberty.
Yet love was still in the world to bind up the wounds, to heal broken hearts, and to comfort the distressed. John Wesley still preached in Britain, and the Gospel was spreading in America. Amid the confusion of politics, a tidal wave of hope and courage swept over the country.
The sun burned bright, the sky a clear azure blue, as the Nashs’ coach rolled over the sunlit road leading to Annapolis. The birds were singing in the trees oblivious to the woes of man.
Rebecah laid her head on her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She listened to the wheels turn, to the breeze pass through the trees.
They came to a stop, the horses shaking their heads and snorting. The footman jumped down and opened the door, and held out his hand to the lady. Rebecah climbed down, brushing the folds of her dress with her hands. Nash followed and tipped the driver.
The house belonging to Lucius Heinz was two stories tall made of red brick. This fortress, surrounded by a black iron fence six feet high, had every window blocked by heavy draperies. Rebecah saw a hand pull one back in the window closest to the door. They had been seen.
Nash opened the gate and she passed through it. Together they walked toward the door. The lawn had no trees, nor a garden.
The door opened and a servant escorted them into the sitting room. Rebecah sat in an overstuffed chair. With his hand on her shoulder, Nash waited with her. A cold and lonely atmosphere permeated the house. A gaudy porcelain clock on the mantle ticked on, its feet tipped in gold. Cherubs clung to the sides decked in laurel leaves. The clock struck a high-pitched chime on the hour. At that precise moment, as if planned, Heinz entered the room.
Beneath his wig laid a shock of gray hair that had once been as gold as his late sister’s. His face was gaunt with heavy lines, his mouth drawn tight. With a courteous smile, he bowed first to Rebecah, then Nash, and turned to his servant.
“Bring my visitors coffee, Ulysses.” His voice held a hint of an accent. “And a few cakes.” Easing into a chair, Heinz opened a wooden box that lay on the table. “Do you smoke, Mr. Nash? I’ve some excellent Maryland tobacco if you would like some.”
“I never took up the habit,” said Nash. “Thank you just the same. May I introduce my wife Rebecah?”
Heinz lit his long-stemmed pipe and blew out the smoke. He gazed at her. “I’m charmed, Mrs. Nash.”
“We’ve come to discuss the children—your niece and nephew.”
“They are well?”
“Ve
ry well indeed considering their loss.”
“I’m deeply grieved for my sister and her husband. Karien was a treasure and he not deserving of her. Did you know them?”
“I’m afraid I never had the honor.”
“I’m not surprised. They were determined to live apart from society.” Heinz ran his hand over his spaniel’s ears. “I warned them, but they would not listen.”
The servant entered with a tray and set it in front of Heinz. Coffee was poured and handed out. Rebecah held the Blue Willow cup and sauce and looked at the black liquid. She could not get used to the taste no matter how much she tried. She glanced at the tray. No cream or sugar to flavor it? Obviously, Heinz had bland tastes. His courtesy to his guests left much to be desired.
“I’ve thought long and hard.” Heinz paused, sipped his coffee. “It is too dangerous for the children to stay in the frontier. My duty is to see that Adele grows up taught in the graces of womanhood, and that she marries well. I’ll not have her marry a backwoodsmen or farmer.”
Nash stiffened at the remark. “A backwoodsman usually takes a wife of his kind, sir. As for farmers, we’ve some of the most prosperous in Maryland.”
“But so few. And I doubt my nephew would ever wish for such a hard life. He will need educating.”
“The children need a mother,” Rebecah interrupted. “I’ve grown to love them.”
“I understand your attachment, Mrs. Nash. It’s natural you should have grown to love them. What woman would not feel that way?”
“We want them to stay with us. Our house is very fine, surrounded by acres of rich forests and fields, and we are close to town. We offer a good life for them. We will instruct both children in the Faith and provide for their schooling. You can see them often.”
“I’m grateful for what you’ve provided. But I must insist they come to me. I’m within my rights.”
Nash moved from around the chair and faced Heinz. “Yes, you have your rights. But is this the best for the children? Please, reconsider.”
At that moment, Rebecah thought about her cousin Hugh Brent. He was sent away to school too. She never forgot the way he gripped her hand when he left Endfield, the fear and tears in his eyes. They loved each other, and for him to be parted from his family at such a young age was hard.
Heinz shook his head. “I cannot understand why you would want the burden. You should have children of your own.”
Troubled by his comment, Rebecah looked at him. “Adele and Gustav are no burden. They are a blessing.”
“We would be good parents, Mr. Heinz, and you would always be their uncle and welcomed at Laurel Hill,” Nash said.
Heinz knit his brows. “I must do my duty.”
“Yes, and duty requires doing what is best for you sister’s children.”
“I’ll think on it a little longer. But for now, my decision stands.”
Heartbroken, Rebecah rose from her chair. Ulysses saw them to the door. She was silent, stared out the coach window.
The driver cracked his whip above the horses’ heads and they pulled away from the bleak house with its humdrum lawn. And as the last amber light of day faded, so did Rebecah’s hopes of being a mother to Adele and Gus.
CHAPTER 15
Upon arrival at the Blue Heron Inn, the innkeeper handed Nash a note. Although he anticipated being alone with his wife in their room upstairs, and wanted to refuse, he could not decline this particular invitation. Certain Sons of Liberty were gathered in the dining room. He explained to Rebecah. Leaving him for the conversation of men, she went upstairs to dress for dinner. She would join him later.
The patriots sat at a long table near the fire in the great hearth. Cedar and pine scented the room. All faces serious, they smoked their clay pipes and drank from pewter tankards frothed with ale. Present were Mr. Thomas Stone, Samuel Chase, and William Paca, joined by four others who were officers of alarm companies. Some were gentlemen bred, owning large tracks of land. Others were simple men, sober beyond their years, committed to the Glorious Cause, understanding what it could cost them.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Nash smiled with a slight bow of his head. The men echoed his greeting.
“God save our country,” said Samuel Chase, his way of greeting those loyal to freedom. “How is our sister in the wilderness?”
“Anxious and watchful,” Nash replied.
“Our threat in the east is but from one side—the British. We hear terrible stories of Indian massacres in the frontier.”
“It’s true. But it will not deter the supply of the ammunitions from Frederick County. I can give you my word on it.”
Chase settled back in his chair. “That is a relief.”
Paca leaned forward. “Tensions are mounting in every town and village. Here in Annapolis neighbors are no longer speaking, merchants suspected of being Tory sympathizers are losing business, while patriots meet in secret.”
Mr. Stone drew on his pipe. “The governor’s carriage was shot at last week outside town. He was not in it.”
Out in the frontier, Nash knew the seriousness of the Indian wars, but he had not realized what was happening in the towns to the east.
“I heard Sir William is holding talks with Brent and Red Jacket. Is this true?”
“Aye, it’s a fact. The winds of revolution are blowing swifter now, and Americans will have to take sides one way or the other, and I’ve no doubt the British will win the Indian Nations over to their side if they haven’t already. Boston is besieged, and more troops will be on their way. The Sons of Liberty will be ready for them.”
Paca tapped his hand on the table. “It’s all in God’s hands.”
A young man leaned forward. His expression was grave, and his hands hugged the pewter tankard he drank from. “We must act soon, or we may end up besieged like Boston. It’s reported people are starving and young children have died. I’ve a sister in Boston and I grieve for her suffering.”
Paca patted the young lad’s shoulder. “All in Boston are near and dear to our hearts, Danny. We’re doing all we can to help and to assure the same does not happen in our city.”
Nash narrowed his eyes. “How I would like to be among the men demanding an account from the King for this atrocity.”
As the hour passed, the men listened soberly to Nash’s accounts of what he had experienced in the frontier. When he had concluded, he pondered the past year, from his journey to England, his painful love affair with Rebecah, his return home to Frederick County, to the thick of a horrific Indian uprising. Then she appeared, the love of his life. What hardships were to come with the Indians and the British, he could not predict. Only he vowed a thousand times over in his heart he would protect her with his very life.
* * *
Upstairs Rebecah twisted the ringlets falling over her shoulders. She changed into a gown of dark teal silk with rosettes along the bodice. While she pulled on a pair of white silk stockings, she thought about the children. At least Mr. Heinz had not been angry they had not brought the children with them. He certainly would have kept Adele and Gus. There was time for him to reconsider, and she prayed his heart would yield.
A knock came at the door and the maid entered. “Captain Nash told me to bring this up to you, ma’am.”
Opening the box, Rebecah moved aside the cotton packing and sighed. She stared at the gift within it, picked it up between her fingers.
“Oh, Jack,” she whispered.
Holding it against her throat, she turned to look in the mirror. The necklace sparkled in the candlelight. A pearl dangled like a teardrop from the center. His gesture melted her. She smiled and put it on, then turned out the door to go downstairs.
A servant approached her at the foot of the staircase and offered to escort her to the dining room. The room was aglow with candles. Nash looked handsome in his dark blue coat and black boots. When his eyes caught sight of her, a smile swept over his face and he stood.
“My wife Rebecah, gentlemen,” he said. His
eyes were warm.
The gentleman stood and greeted her. Nash introduced them one by one, and she curtseyed.
“Well, sir,” said Paca. “With more faces like your good lady’s, we shall win this revolution. Your wife is bound to inspire any man to fight for our freedom.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Nash said. “Now, I hate to leave you, but I promised my wife a fine meal alone. If there’s anything more, you know how to find me—in the morning if you please.”
He took her hand and led her to a table in a darkened corner of the dining room. He ordered wine, broiled fish and crab, seared beef and vegetables, baked rolls. The fire in the hearth crackled. People filled the room.
Rebecah touched the necklace and smiled. “Thank you, Jack. It is lovely. The prettiest thing anyone has ever given me.”
He seemed distracted. She realized a lot of things were on his mind. She was not put off in the least, but saw his mood as a challenge and determined she would get his thoughts off politics and on her.
“People are staring,” she whispered. “Is it my gown, you think? Perhaps I should have worn something else.”
Nash looked at her. “Your gown is lovely.”
“Do you like me in it?”
He touched her fingertips with his and let out a breath. “Yes, I adore every inch of you. I can prove it.”
Her face flushed and she held her finger up to her coral lips. “Someone may hear you. You’re bold to say such things in a public place.”
“Have you another place in mind where I may speak of love?” he said with a slow smile. His meaning was understood and she laughed. “I do see what you mean though, for it is crowded in here.”
“Yes, suffocating.”
He leaned forward, his eyes fixed upon hers. “You leave me breathless.”
“Is it true Governor Eden comes here to dine?” she asked, tasting the succulent crab. “On my word, this is good.”
Nash sipped his wine. “I don’t know. Taste the rockfish. You will like it.”
