Liberty's Deception

by Lora Thomas

  “It would not have made a difference.”

  “Like hell it wouldn’t have.”

  “I thought she loved me. But in truth…” Christopher stopped. He tightened his grip around the decanter so hard his knuckles turned white. “I found out later that she was courting that man. She was going to marry him even though she was already married to me!” He tossed the decanter across the room with such force Cameron cringed.

  “Chris,” Cameron whispered in mortification.

  Christopher closed his eyes. Cameron watched a single tear run down his brother’s cheek. There were no words of comfort Cameron could speak. Christopher turned from his brother and wiped his cheek.

  Chris took a deep, calming breath. “Look, Cameron. I know you give me a hard time because you think I abandoned your wife and allowed her to die. But I was following my orders. Like you should do—like you should have done.”

  Neither man spoke. Cameron walked back to his chair, sat down and placed his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

  “There’s one more thing, Cameron.”

  Cameron raised his head. “What?”

  “Edith was Stevenson’s daughter.”

  “Bloody hell,” Cameron replied as he sat upright, running his fingers through his hair. “Is that why you wanted no part of playing Mrs. Stevenson?”

  “Yes,” Christopher answered barely above a whisper. “She was his child from his first wife.”

  “You know this complicates things?”

  “Yes. But you needed to know.” Christopher walked over to the seat beside his brother and sat down. “Now back to your issue. You need to move on, Cameron.”

  “Me? You do just as much as I,” he replied. Upon hearing his brother’s story, he now knew why Christopher was so adamant about not marrying. “I mourn for a wife that loved me, that was carrying my child. But you grieve for a heartless bitch who manipulated you.”

  “Once this bloody war is over, then I may look for another wife. But until then, I will not try to find solace in aimless sex with every whore from here to Virginia.”

  “I am not using those women for comfort.”

  “Then what? Are you hoping for syphilis? I could think of better ways to spend my time than with a mercury-filled urethroscope shoved up my shaft.”

  “If you are trying to apologize, then you are doing a poor job.”

  “I’m not. Now come. We must come up with a plan.”

  “I will come up with a plan, Chris.”

  Christopher laughed easing the tension in the room. “You come up with a plan? This I must hear.”

  “Just give me a few days. I have to travel to South Carolina. When I return, we will decide on how you are to woo the major’s wife.”

  “No. I cannot do it.”

  “Have you sworn off bedding women now or is she that hideous?”

  “Far from it. She is quite lovely and bedding her would be easy. It’s just…” His words trailed off.

  “Think of it as revenge. You will have your vengeance against the Redcoats with twice the glory. For not only did you convince the major’s daughter to wed you, but you will convince his wife to have an affair with you.”

  “I didn’t convince Edith to marry me. I thought she loved me. We planned on starting a family together…here. Or so she said.”

  “That would have been hard to accomplish with another husband.”

  “I am in no mood for your ribbing, Cameron.”

  “Fine. But however, you want think of it, whenever Stevenson catches wind of it, it will be his downfall and then we can kill that bastard and end this bloody war once and for all.”

  Chapter Six

  Anna was thrilled! No, she was beyond thrilled. She was elated! Her husband had decided to travel up north to check on the progress of the troops, leaving her alone—well, not actually alone—she had her guards. Six of them to be exact. They took turns watching her. If she went from one room to the other, they followed her. Her guards kept up with her better than her own shadow. They were constantly telling her what she could and could not do. Don’t run, don’t lift, don’t eat this, don’t drink that. Hell, her father wasn’t this bad. But she was still thrilled, for they did not like being in the large home she shared with her husband any more than she did.

  The day after the party at General Hatfield’s home, Albert left. Three whole days without her husband. Without his bone chilling stares. Without having to hear him and the downstairs maid, Peggy, become “acquainted.” Anna didn’t care. He could become “acquainted” with every willing servant in all of Wilmington for all she cared—just as long as he left her alone.

  She smiled as she spurred her horse to run faster with her guardians following suit. They had been riding almost two hours. At times, Anna purposely slowed their pace or simply completely stopped to enjoy the scenery. She was just thrilled to be out of the house and wanted to savor her triumph. To Anna it felt like an eternity had passed, but she was getting closer to her home. To her mother.

  As she crested the hill, she pulled back hard on the reins as her childhood residence came into view. The sight took her breath away. Her home was still standing. It had not been destroyed! Jubilation entered her body. Her eyes took in the two-story brick structure. One of the large chimneys had crumbled to the ground, but the other one still stood. Her eyes looked to the right, and she spied the oak tree. The swing was missing, but the tree stood proud and tall. The barn was a rundown heap of boards, leaning to the right. The only thing keeping the falling down structure upright was the pine tree it was leaning against.

  The sound of her guardians approaching caused her to look over her shoulder. “It’s still here!” she shouted to them. She then dug her heels into her mare, sending the animal racing towards the home.

  “Mrs. Stevenson, wait!” the young soldier named Benson yelled after her. “We must make sure the structure is safe and no danger is about!”

  Anna ignored the soldier’s warning as she raced towards her home. When she was even with the front porch, she pulled back hard on the reins. The horse slid to a stop and reared. Anna clung to the animal and laughed with delight.

  “Are you just as excited as I am, Vixen?” She slid off the horse and walked the animal to the barrel beside the porch. An overjoyed smile crossed her face as she noticed the water standing inside. Her mother insisted that this barrel be placed under the corner of the house in order to collect rainwater for visitors. The horse used its muzzle to push Anna out of the way to get to the water-filled barrel. Anna giggled as the horse gave her another gentle nudge.

  “All right, all right,” Anna said as she stepped out of the way. The horse drank thirstily from the cool water.

  The guardians approached at that time and allowed their steeds the same pleasure. Once the horses had drunk their fill, one of the soldiers led them to the porch and tied them to one of the remaining pillars.

  Anna smiled. She walked to the back of the house, allowing her gloved hand to run over the rough brick. She went straight to the strawberry patch. The area was covered with briars, weeds and vines. She knelt down and began pulling the unwanted vegetation out of the way. A rustling in the weeds in front of her caused her to stop as if suddenly frozen. She held her breath and a relieved sigh escaped her as she watched a rabbit hop out of the patch.

  “Well, I guess if there aren’t any berries you would be the reason why,” she called after the rabbit. She pulled several weeds away and laughed. Strawberries! Her mother’s berries! She picked the plump red berry and bit down. A pleasurable moan escaped her as the fruit’s sweetness invaded her taste buds. She pulled out a handkerchief from her bodice and picked several more of the tasty fruit.

  “Mrs. Stevenson,” Benson said from behind her.

  She pivoted on her knees to face the young soldier. She grinned and then giggled as the juice from the berry ran down her chin. Wiping her chin with the back of her hand, she held out a berry to the soldier. “You must try one,
Mr. Benson. They are delicious!”

  “Mrs. Stevenson,” he said again with slight agitation to his tone. “You are expecting and should not behave in such a manner.”

  She flipped her hand at the wrist. “You are such a stick in the mud. You are entirely too young to be so serious all the time.”

  “And you should behave like a respectable lady instead of a peasant.”

  “I will take the peasant life any day if it means I can eat one of my mother’s strawberries,” she replied, placing another red berry into her mouth.

  “Mrs. Stevenson,” he warned again.

  “Fine,” she snapped as she stood up. She had just dusted the dirt from her peach-colored riding habit and exited the berry patch when she had an idea. She felt excitement course through her from the fabrication she was about to tell in order to relieve herself of at least one of her shadows. “You know there is an apple orchard just south of here. And I would love one of my mother’s apples.”

  “You are not traveling any further, Mrs. Stevenson.”

  “But you could go for me,” she pleaded, hoping that he did not know that it was not the season for apples to be ripe. “Theo and Gibson could stay here with me while you retrieve me several apples. You know expectant women have cravings and a crisp, ripe apple sounds just heavenly right now.”

  “I am not going and neither will you.”

  “I think I will simply just die if I cannot have an apple from my orchard.”

  “Mrs. Stevenson—”

  “Please do not make me have to report to my husband that you refused to keep me happy,” she pouted. She hated using her “pregnancy” as a ploy to get what she wanted, but it would give her one less guard, one more second at her home.

  “Very well,” Benson said.

  Elation filled her as she realized he did not know the seasons of fruits.

  Benson motioned for the other two guards. “Mrs. Stevenson is craving apples. I will go retrieve one—”

  “One? Oh, please, Mr. Benson, at least a bushel,” Anna interrupted.

  “A small satchel of apples for her. Please stay in this location until I return.”

  The other two men nodded and watched as the senior of the trio rode southward. Anna tilted her head and smiled at the other two guards, thrilled at their ignorance of the growing seasons. She was being so devious! The thought of getting excitement from duping people caused her to inwardly smile—even though it was a childlike action. She continued to study her other two shadows. Theo and Gibson could be easily manipulated. They were just a few years older than she. She knew that Benson would not allow her to explore her home without a chaperone, but Theo and Gibson could be persuaded to do so.

  “Well, now that he is off to gather some apples for me, there is no use in sitting here twiddling our thumbs.” She walked to the barn, with the two sentries on her heels. She pried open the door. The dust flew in the air and caused her to cough. As the trio explored the barn, Anna kept her eyes peeled for a bucket. She spied one hanging from a peg. Turning, she bumped into the tall lanky Theo.

  “Oh, good, you are here. Now here,” she said thrusting the pail into his hand.

  Theo looked down at the wooden container. “What do you want me to do with this, Mrs. Stevenson?”

  “I want strawberries, too. You will have to pull the briars, weeds and poison ivy out of the way to locate them. But I believe they would go wonderfully with my apples.”

  “But, Mrs. Stevenson—”

  “Well, if you won’t pick them, I guess I will have to.”

  “No, ma’am. How many would you like?”

  “Fill the pail up. I think strawberry jam would be delightful.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Theo said as he exited the barn.

  Two down, one to go.

  “Come, Gibson,” she ordered as they exited the barn. She walked to the tall oak tree. Turning, she faced the brown-haired man. “My swing needs repairing.”

  “Mrs. Stevenson,” Gibson protested.

  “Don’t ‘Mrs. Stevenson’ me. I plan on visiting here quite often. There was a swing in this tree. Please help Theo with the strawberries and then get to work on my swing.”

  “I must guard you.”

  She flicked her wrist at the cautious sentry. “Phooey. This is my home. Your major’s land.” The thought of Albert having possession of her home caused her to inwardly cringe. “I am perfectly safe. While you two work here, I will see if there are any containers in the house for more fruit.”

  “I don’t think that—”

  She held up her hand, silencing him. “Enough. I will scream if I see something that does not look or feel safe.”

  “I—”

  Her stare was unyielding as she locked eyes with the young soldier. He fidgeted under her uncomfortable gaze. “Yes, Mrs. Stevenson.”

  She turned her back to the man and walked toward the home. A smug expression crossed her face. She would get to explore her home without the prying eyes of her guard dogs. As she placed her foot on the step, the boards creaked under her weight. The noise of the protesting wood did not stop her. She walked up the stairs as though the home was just built yesterday.

  When she reached the door, she tentatively placed her hand on the knob. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The rusty hinges creaked loudly in protest of being used. As the sunlight filtered through the open door, she watched as the dust particles danced in the light. The sound of her gown rustling on the dirty floor caused memories from the past to flood her mind. Of her mother. Of the joy she had as a child when her father was gone. The click of her shoes on the floor spooked a dove. It cooed as it went flying out of a broken window.

  Entering the dining room, she looked around. Dust covered the entire room. A large cobweb stretched from a broken chair leaning against the far wall to the wire that used to hold the now missing crystal chandelier that had hung so elegantly. The large dining table was now missing, probably stolen or used for firewood.

  She approached another door and opened it. Walking into the sitting room, the smell of dampness invaded her nostrils. The corner had darkened from the leaking ceiling. She could see sunlight streaming through the hole in the ceiling. She walked to the area and looked upward. The corner of the roof had caved in and allowed the rainwater to drain right into the sitting room. The hard oak floor had begun to rot from the dampness. She walked towards the fireplace and gave a timid smile as she ran her fingers over the dust-covered marble mantel. At least it hadn’t been stolen.

  A disheartened sigh left her. The home was still standing but in desperate need of repair. She left the sitting room and walked back into the foyer. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at the bottom of the stairs—where she found her mother’s body. With a quivering chin, she sat down on the steps and allowed her hand to run over the smooth wood.

  “Oh, Mother,” she whispered. “Why did he have to be so cruel to you?”

  Nostalgia was cruel, especially when there were so very few good memories to fall back on. Her thoughts were disturbed by the sound of boards creaking from one of the rooms upstairs. She looked at the front door and debated calling for her guards. She turned her gaze back up the steps. What if whoever is up there is a soldier from the colonial army? If she summoned her guards, then the soldier would hang. But then again, if it was a murderous thief, then the punishment would be just. She chewed on her lower lip for a minute, contemplating what to do. As she stood, she dug deep into her soul and mustered the courage to cautiously climb the steps.

  “Hello,” she said as she stepped onto the upstairs floor. “Hello,” she called again. “Is anyone up here?” The sound of her clicking shoes echoed eerily throughout the upstairs. “You are safe. This is my home and I will not harm you.”

  Anna could hear nothing but her heart pounding in her ears. The fear she was experiencing was pushed aside by her curiosity. She placed her hand on the doorknob to the first room and took a deep breath. Before she entered she looked dow
n at the floor and noticed that the dust had been disturbed. She furrowed her brow and followed the trail of footsteps to the last room—her room. The door was cracked open. She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open.

  “Hello,” she whispered as she entered.

  Unexpectedly, she felt her body being pushed against the wall as a hand covered her mouth. Her eyes grew wide with fear. A large hand muffled her screams. As she fought against the assailant, the error of her poor judgment entered her mind. Damn her curiosity and love of country! She pushed against the man who was holding her, but it was pointless. She might as well have been trying to move a ship with her mind. Suddenly, she felt her hands being pinned above her head.

  “Calm down, I will not harm you,” the male voice said.

  Anna’s eyes came to her captor’s face and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Never in all her days had she seen such a handsome man. It was as though she looking at Adonis. His black hair was slightly long and tussled and his chiseled jaw was covered with short dark whiskers. Her eyes came to his, and she was held in place by the color. It was like she was gazing into emeralds. She felt her pulse quicken.

  Cameron could not believe his luck. First, he was spotted delivering the message. The Redcoats pursued him for several miles before giving up. Then his horse broke its leg after stepping into a groundhog hole, leaving him to use his last bullet to end the animal’s suffering. He then had to walk several miles. A storm settled in last night, soaking him to the bone. He took refuge in a shack a little over five miles south of here. As he was walking past this house, he spotted a rider and several Redcoats approaching so he hid in this home. And be damned if he wasn’t looking at the rider. And a beautiful rider she was. She had her blond hair pulled up on the sides but allowed the long golden locks to cascade down her back in soft ringlets. As he looked into her eyes, he could feel himself being pulled into her soul. The steel blue color held him in a trance. He felt her body move in protest of being restricted. Her breasts brushed against his chest causing a stirring deep within him.

  Shaking away the feelings surging through his body, he spoke to the woman. “Calm down. If I remove my hand, do you promise not to scream?”