“Tonight was to be the last night they would ever ask for information and they wanted names.”
He stopped talking and the girls froze.
“Names?” Kitty whispered.
“Shhh.” Eliza put her finger to her mouth.
Thomas went on. “There isn’t time to explain it all, but one of the names I gave was Robert’s. Knowing he was dead, I knew they couldn’t hurt him. I didn’t know they’d go after his family until it was too late.”
Kitty slumped onto the bed and covered her face. “Father was—no, he couldn’t be. It’s not true.”
“We’ll talk of it when we are safe, Kitty.” Eliza bit her cheek, recalling her own shock when she’d learned the same about Father. “Remember, we must hurry. Mr. Watson says we are still in danger.”
Kitty nodded, all color draining from her face.
When Thomas spoke again his usually confident voice was lined with defeat. “It’s only by the grace of God I got to their home in time.”
At that moment Eliza and Kitty emerged, dressed in their modest homespun. Thomas glanced over his shoulder, and the looks on their innocent faces drilled holes in his gut. Shackles of regret pinned him to the floor. He had hoped to explain all of it with the girls in the same room, so as not to appear as though he attempted to hide anything from them. But with time as precious as it was, he’d had to explain while they dressed. He knew they could hear through the thin walls. Hopefully that was enough. He could give them the details as they journeyed the rest of the way. God willing, they wouldn’t blame him.
Clara finished with Thomas and turned toward her husband. “I’m going to wake the children.”
Thomas rose, placing his hands on the back of the chair. He met Daniel’s strong gaze with one of his own. “I wanted nothing more than to protect you and your family.” The muscles in his jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth.
Daniel came forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Do not blame yourself. Clara and I both knew when we joined this cause that there could be consequences. We also knew that it’s a cause worth fighting for—worth dying for, Thomas. I know you feel the same.” He paused and let out a long sigh. “The soldiers will come here next.”
“That’s my fear.” Thomas flung a quick glance behind him. Kitty’s eyes grew wide again, but Eliza remained stoic.
At that moment Clara teetered in with a small sleeping boy over her belly. A young girl followed behind, rubbing half-shut eyes.
“I’ll load the wagon.” Daniel went to a large chest in the corner. “We will go to your uncle’s.” He pulled out a shirt, waistcoat, jacket, breeches, and stockings, then tucked them under his arm.
“We can’t take the roads, Daniel, it will be too dangerous.” The resolve in Clara’s voice reverberated through the room. “We’ll walk the back way.”
Daniel’s loving gaze swept her face. “Clara, you can hardly walk as it is.”
Raising up on her toes, Clara kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine. ‘Tis only 5 miles. Besides, God will put the wind at our backs. I must get dressed now. We need to leave as soon as possible.” With that she disappeared into the room.
Daniel turned to Thomas, thrusting the clothes he’d gathered into his chest. “You’ll want to get out of the clothes you have on. Those should fit you. You can use the children’s room to change.”
When Thomas emerged, changed and warm, Eliza and Kitty were dawning cloaks that Clara had just handed to them.
“These are old, but they should keep you warm enough,” Clara said.
Eliza placed the cloak over her shoulders and raised her eyes to meet Thomas’s gaze. The strength and determination in their dark depths failed to cover a veil of fear. His muscles hardened as fresh resolve seeped into his bones. He would keep them safe. No matter what.
“We must go,” Daniel said, dousing the fire.
“I’ve a cloak and hat for you as well, Thomas.” Daniel pointed to a peg near the front door and Thomas took the items.
“You haven’t said where you three are going,” Daniel asked.
Before answering, Thomas glanced at Eliza and Kitty. Would they go with him? Did they have a choice?
He let out an audible breath before speaking. “We’re going to Sandwich.”
No reaction came from either Eliza or her sister. That must be a good sign.
“What will you do with your press? You can’t simply leave it, can you?”
Thomas shook his head, remembering George’s genuine nature and his surprising knowledge of the trade.
“I’ve done all I can with what little time I had. I believe God has provided yet again in that regard. Though it kills me to leave it.”
Daniel nodded. “He has provided and He will continue to do so.” He wrapped the young boy in a blanket, picked him up, and placed his head on his shoulder.
Clara tightened the cloak around the young girl before taking her hand. “God speed, Thomas.”
“God speed.” Thomas’s throat grew tight with words he wanted to say, but couldn’t.
A storm roared within him and he shuffled forward as if prodded on by invisible angels. They needed to get on their way.
“It will be too risky to send word to one another, at least for a while,” Daniel said. “When it’s safe, I promise to let you know we are well.”
Daniel’s voice was thick with emotion as he faced the girls. “Your father was a remarkable man. I count it an honor to have known him. No doubt he watches over you, just as God will always do.”
“Thank you, sir.” Eliza’s voice cracked and her eyes swam with tears. Kitty looked away and wrapped her arms around her middle.
Daniel opened the door and Thomas nudged the girls forward as they began their weary trek into the starry blackness.
Chapter Six
Samuel reached the Williams’ cabin and kicked in the door as he had done at the press. A deserted home greeted him and the glowing embers in the fireplace mocked. He was too late.
Blast!
He yelled, slamming the side of his fist into the door-jam. “Fool!”
They’d been here, no doubt. The small room bore witness of a hasty departure. A bloodied rag lay suspiciously on the table. The trunk in the corner sat open and exposed. In the smaller room a set of men’s clothes were flayed about. They belonged to Watson. The jacket, ripped at the shoulder, had spatters of blood on the collar. So did the shirt. He remembered Donaldson’s mangled face and shook his head.
Stomping to the largest bedchamber, he absorbed the scene and stopped in his tracks. There, on the edge of the bed were two nightgowns, folded, one on top of the other. The fronts of each were wet and covered in mud. He bent over and picked them up, caressing the lace.
Eliza, what has he done to you?
Samuel sat on the edge of the bed and buried his face in the neck of Eliza’s nightgown. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. Her rose perfume graced his nose under the earthy tones of the mud and laughed at him. If he’d only gotten there sooner.
As much as he despised Watson, he had to give him credit. The man had brains. He’d planned this. And planned it well.
Where were they?
Shaking his head, he talked to the fabric. “Eliza, please forgive me.”
He got up, taking the gowns with him, and left the empty cabin.
“I’ll make this up to you, Eliza. I promise,” he said aloud. “I’ll find you. And then I’ll make Watson pay.”
Sandwich was sixty miles south of Boston.
Sixty miles. Eliza had never walked that far in her life. And certainly not with angry Redcoats on her heels. Pushing away the pit in her middle, she reminded herself again that Samuel would help them—he would call off the hunt, just as soon as she could get word to him.
The stars began to fade, and in a few short hours the morning light would sprinkle down through the canopy of leaves. For now, it was still dark. A light misty fog enveloped them, the cold seeping through her clothes and biting her skin. She inh
aled the crisp, clean scent of freshly fallen leaves, trying to chase away the exhaustion in her weary muscles. By now they’d been awake and walking for hours. The sound of the crunching ground under their feet droned on and on. Eliza wanted to roll into a ball and sleep for days. Her legs already screamed in pain and hellish blisters germinated on the backs of her feet. But they continued on without resting, without speaking.
They stayed off the main roads and trails, just as Thomas had said they would do, and so far they hadn’t seen a soul. He insisted that if they moved quickly, the journey would take no longer than three days.
The thick forest, with its tall trees and billowing foliage, allowed for little moonlight, and Eliza prayed God would break with tradition—just for today—and send the morning sun several hours early. The darkness of the trail forced her to take cautious steps as they climbed over fallen logs and stepped around large boulders that jumped out at them from the shadows. They continued for several more hours—or what seemed like it, making Eliza wonder if they were actually going forward or only traveling in circles since the view around them never appeared to change.
Eliza glanced at Kitty, then Thomas. She suspected her sister’s mind raced, as her own did, at what they’d both heard Thomas confess hours before.
Careful to remain inconspicuous, Eliza peeked at him while they walked, just as the heaven-sent sprinkle of morning light began to illuminate their path and the chorus of chirping birds accompanied their steps. She pulled her lip between her teeth. It wasn’t his fault they were now running for their lives. That responsibility rested on Father. If he had not joined the Sons of Liberty, then Thomas would not have been forced to use his name when the soldiers demanded it. Blackmail was a vicious thing.
Kitty hadn’t spoken a word. She walked with her head bowed, arms clutching her stomach. Eliza wanted to speak with her, to comfort her, but she needed time. That was Kitty’s way.
Eliza ignored the pain in her heels and kept her mind busy. If she didn’t, her feet would murder her. Thankfully, no one spoke. It allowed her to think. What kind of cruel person would resort to blackmail? She’d noted the humiliation in Thomas’s voice, the shame. But he had done everything for the welfare of those he loved—there was no shame in that.
His kind and caring nature showed in all he did. Eliza took note of everything, though she warned herself not to. He walked ahead of them, searching out the safest and easiest path and offered a strong hand to them when crossing a bumpy patch of earth. Every so often he peered over his broad shoulder to inquire about their welfare. No doubt he was just as tired and hungry as they, but he didn’t show it. The smile in his dark blue eyes remained vibrant with every passing mile. He was the kind of man that—
Eliza quickly blinked away her thoughts. She didn’t even know the man. Such notions must never be entertained. Not when Samuel had proposed. He deserved an honest answer—one she wasn’t ready to give.
Another immeasurable amount of time slipped by as they plodded across the leaf-matted ground before Thomas stopped. “Let’s rest here a while.”
Splendid gold and red maple leaves decorated the floor of a small clearing in the trees. Brave blades of grass struggled to poke their pointed heads from underneath the colorful blanket. The sunrise dusted orange light like a celestial cloak to warm them. Both girls found a soft pillow of ground devoid of mud on which to sit.
Heaven! Never had it felt so marvelous to stop moving. Eliza closed her eyes and rested her head on the tree behind her, trying to ignore the throbbing at the backs of her feet.
“Don’t get too comfortable.”
Eliza’s eyes shot open at the closeness of Thomas’s soothing voice. He crouched next to her, resting his arm on his knee.
With Thomas so close Eliza could plainly see dark rugged whiskers beginning to appear on his face. Her heart stopped.
He tipped his chin toward the sky. “Now that it’s getting light, I’m going to go back about half a mile. I need to make sure the soldiers haven’t discovered our trail—if they have, we’ll need to put fire in our feet.”
“You don’t think they are following us, do you? Really?”
“I’d like to think they aren’t, but Redcoats don’t give up easily, so we have to be stronger and smarter than they are. Which isn’t hard to do, thankfully.” He chuckled and looked around, but didn’t get up. “You seem to be holding up well, I’m impressed.” His eyes smiled, then grew serious. “How are you doing?”
She swallowed. His sincerity and honest inquiry made her feel warm and safe—protected. Taking a quick glance at where Kitty rested a few feet away, she sighed, grateful her sister had managed to fall asleep in so little time.
“I’m well, thank you. How far do you suppose we’ve traveled?”
He rubbed the cleft in his chin. “About ten miles.”
“Ten miles,” Eliza repeated. Fifty more to go. Her feet would never make it.
“Will you be all right here while I’m gone?”
No. Eliza pulled the cloak around her neck. “Of course.”
As he moved, ready to get up, the words in Eliza’s heart found their way to her mouth before she could stop them. “Mr. Watson, I . . . I understand time is of the essence, but I must know. How well did you know my father?”
With a gentle smile he sat on the ground a polite distance from her, picked up an auburn leaf, and played with it in his fingers. “I knew him quite well. Very well, in fact.” He paused and motioned toward Kitty. “We can talk for a moment. Let her rest.”
Eliza sat up straighter. “How did you meet him?”
He pulled the dying leaf apart at the veins. “I joined the group three years ago. Your father had already been part of them for some time.”
“You mean the Sons of Liberty?”
He tipped his head toward her and she could see the sparkle behind his eyes when he answered. “That’s right.”
Eliza moved her gaze down. She reached into her skirt pocket and retrieved the note she had kept with her since the moment she’d read it in the field. Fingering it in her hands, she tried to keep her voice smooth. “My father always said it was more dangerous to be a Tory. He attended to men who’d been tarred and feathered for staying loyal to the Crown, he had meetings with Hutchinson himself—he couldn’t believe people would be capable of going against King George.” She stopped and clutched her stomach. “And now to know that he was a member of such a group, a group that would violate property, cause riots, and hurt any human life . . . I don’t understand it.”
She looked at him, studying his face as her mind raced to put together the words that jumbled in her brain and she squeezed the paper until her fingernails bit into her palm. “I’ve seen your Liberty Tree. I’ve seen the soldiers hanging in effigy. I’ve seen the signs and posters promoting your cause. Father was a good man. He taught us to love and serve our king. How could he align himself with a group that does such horrific things?” Her voice quivered, as did her chin.
Thomas looked down at the leaf in his hands, then back up at her. “Do you believe that every member of His Majesty’s Army is upstanding and seeks for the good in all he does?”
She lowered her eyes, smoothing her thumb over the paper.
“Well, it is the same with the members of our growing group. I certainly could never tar and feather a man, and neither would your father. But there are many who hold the same political beliefs—they strive for liberty and freedom—yet cannot bridle their passions and let their anger get the best of them.”
Eliza shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ll never be able to come to a full knowledge of why Father did what he did. Why he believed what he believed.”
Thomas pointed at the note as if he knew exactly what it contained, and somehow that knowledge alone massaged away the tension in her heart. “God will help you find the knowledge you are searching for.” He tossed aside the remains of the sheered leaf. “Your father always acted with wisdom and responsibility. I’m sure he would never h
ave done what I did. He would never have betrayed the cause of liberty. He risked everything for it. I’m also certain he’d hang me for putting you in danger the way I have.” Thomas spat the words as if they were bitter gall.
Wrapping her arms around her knees, Eliza laced her fingers to keep from touching him. She longed to show him comfort, to assure him she held no ill feelings.
“None of what’s happened to us is your fault, Mr. Watson. ‘Tis all my father’s doing. Had he never joined the group you would never have felt to use his name. I know you did it to protect your family from harm.”
Thomas chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then turned to her. “Would you like to know the first thing your father said to me?”
Eliza jerked back and blinked. “Of course.”
“At my first meeting, your father approached me before anyone else and shook my hand. After introducing ourselves to one another he said, ‘I’m doing this for my daughters, Mr. Watson. Why are you here?’”
Eliza’s throat closed and her eyes filled with tears she could not contain. They slipped past her lashes and splashed her cheeks. “He never raised us that way, you know.” She shoved back her emotions and carefully returned the note to her pocket. Looking over at Kitty, Eliza dotted the moisture from her cheeks. “I never knew his true feelings until after he died. Neither of us did. I wish he would have told me.” She swiped at a tear with the back of her hand. “So, Mr. Watson, why were you there?”
He tossed her a fleeting grin before his expression turned somber. “Those of us in the colonies are treated like second class citizens. Our king robs us with his taxes and we have no proper representation in Parliament. Our lives will never be the same if we continue to let King George dictate his will at every delicate whim.”
Thomas looked in front of him into the mass of trees. “I was there initially for the welfare of my business. I’ve dedicated my life to my press, small though it may be. I could not much longer continue with such oppression. Through the years I have come to see the importance of the cause for the entirety of the colonies. We must be allowed to represent ourselves and live our lives separate from the king’s constant oppression.”
So Fair a Lady (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 1) Page 6
