"Absurd or no, it's the truth." She picked a piece of straw out of his hair. "We'd best go. We both have to change for Reagan's party."
Grayson reached out and swept Maggie into his arms. "I'd rather stay here with you."
She rested her hands on his shoulders. "I almost think you mean that."
"Ah, Maggie, Maggie . . ." He pulled her against him and smoothed her tangled mass of fiery hair. "What did that man do to you to make you so distrustful?"
"It wasn't just Noah," she answered, her voice muffled by his chest. "It's the war, too. I've seen so much, Grayson. Too much to believe in anything or anyone."
He took her chin and lifted it until she was staring into his eyes. "I'd do anything to spare you of those memories. I'd do anything to take away the hurt."
She lifted on her toes and kissed him. "Let's go."
With a sigh, he finished dressing and, hand and hand, they left the icehouse in silence.
An hour later Maggie stood in one of the twin parlors of Thayer's Folly dressed in an elegant brocaded emerald gown. She was laughing at the tale being told to her of a woman who had smuggled a butchered pig through enemy lines into Valley Forge to feed the starving troops, in a coffin no less.
"When a patrol of redcoats stopped her on the road," the handsome patriot went on with his story, "she said she was Sarah Hogg and that it was the body of her husband John Hogg she transported."
"That can't be true!" Maggie protested, wiping at the corners of her eyes. She'd laughed so hard that tears ran down her cheeks.
"I assure you it is," he answered with a broad grin. "As God is my witness. A good friend, Forrest Irons, married her."
Maggie sipped a glass of Madeira a maid had offered. "Smart man."
A knock sounded at the front door and Maggie glanced up. Seeing no maids, she turned back to George-Theis. "Excuse me, George. I don't see our hostess. I'd better get the door."
George bowed and stepped out of her way. Maggie smiled as she walked toward the door. It was nice, being treated like a lady. It made her feel good inside.
Reaching the door, she swung it open. "Yes?"
A young private dressed in the garb of the Virginia militia swept off his cap. "Good even to you, ma'am. I have message for Major Grayson Thayer."
She offered her hand. "I can give it to him."
The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Actually, ma'am, Colonel Hastings ordered it be delivered to no one but the major."
Maggie paused a moment. "All right. Wait here and I'll find the major." This is it, she thought. Colonel Hastings had made his decision as to whether Grayson would return to Yorktown or be retired. She prayed it was the second option. Grayson had done far more than his duty and it was time he got out while his head was still attached to his shoulders.
Locating Grayson in the dining room, she took his arm and whispered into his ear.
"Excuse me, ladies," he said to the group of planters' wives who had gathered around him. "Duty." Then taking Maggie's hand in his, he led her through the rooms back toward the front door.
"This is it, Maggie," he told her, his voice nervous with excitement. "It's my orders."
"Sterling says Colonel Hastings is a reasonable man. He's not gonna let you go, Grayson. You're gettin' your hopes up for naught."
"The colonel can recognize an opportunity when he sees one. He and I, we think alike." They reached the door, and Grayson swung it open.
The young militiaman saluted. "Major Thayer, sir?"
"Yes, yes, of course. Just give me the message."
He handed it over to Grayson and made his retreat down the steps toward his waiting horse.
Grayson looked up at Maggie, hesitating before opening the message.
Maggie swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She could feel her own heart pounding beneath the bodice of her new gown. "Ye can't change what it says by starin' at it, Grayson," she offered gently.
Looking back at the letter in his hand, Grayson took a deep breath and broke the seal.
Maggie held her breath. Please God, she prayed. Don't send him back!
Grayson gave a sudden hoot of excitement and Maggie's heart fell.
"I told you, Maggie! I told you Colonel Hastings would see it my way!" Grayson exclaimed, lifting her into his arms and twirling her around.
Maggie's face was grim. "You're going back to Yorktown?"
He released her, looking deep into her dark Indian eyes. "It's what I want," he said softly.
Afraid of the tears that threatened to overcome her, Maggie spun around. She walked into the house and straight up the grand staircase, ignoring Grayson's calls. Running down the hallway, her skirts balled in her fists, she fled for the safety of her bedchamber. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it.
"Oh!"
"The sound of a familiar voice made Maggie look up. She wasn't alone. It was the maid, Inga.
The half-dressed girl backed up, obviously startled. She had been in Maggie's trunk. There were clothes strewn across the bed and the maid was wearing Maggie's favorite green-ribboned bonnet.
"What do you think you're doin' in my stuff?" Maggie demanded, coming toward the bed.
"Just tryin' it on," the girl answered haughtily. "I wasn't gonna steal nuthin' if that's what you're thinkin'!"
"You've got no right Maggie exploded. "These things are mine. Grayson gave them to me. They were gifts!"
Inga scooped up her own maid's dress and slowly made her way toward the door. "Gifts, hah! These clothes were nothin' but payment for your whorin'," the maid spit venomously.
"Get out!" Maggie shouted. "Get out before I wring your scrawny neck."
"You think you're one of them, don't you? Well, you're not. You might wear them fancy dresses and say them fancy words, but you are no better than me, no better than the scullery maid!" She put her hand on the doorknob. "You won't never be one of them. Not as long as you've got that common blood running through your veins."
"Get out!" Maggie screamed as she lifted a pewter candlestick and hurled it toward the door.
Inga escaped the room just as the candlestick hit the door frame with a thud. Grayson came in as the maid went out.
"What the hell is going on in here?" he demanded.
Maggie turned her back to him. The truth of Inga's words had cut her deeply. She knew the maid was right. What was wrong with her to have ever thought she could marry Grayson and be one of the Thayers?
Maggie walked to the open window and Grayson came up behind her. The distant sound of thunder rumbled in the sky as dark clouds rolled in.
"A storm," Grayson conceded. "There's a storm coming fast."
She held herself stiff as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.
"You have to understand how important it is that I go back to Yorktown, Maggie," he said softly.
"I understand."
"You do?"
"I understand." She turned in his arms until she could look up at his strikingly handsome face "Same as you have to understand. I'm going back with you . . . "
Chapter Nineteen
Grayson grabbed a black calfskin slipper off the bed and hurled it at the the wall. "Damnation, Maggie! I've no time to go round and round with you again. They're waiting for me downstairs. The exchange will take place in two days. You know I've got to go. Don't make me leave with things unsettled like this. Now, for once in your life, woman, be sensible!"
She went on with her packing, fighting back her tears. He was leaving. He was going back to Yorktown into a nest of redcoats and there was nothing she could do about it. "I'm a free woman, Grayson Thayer. So long as I'm not bound or married," she said with emphasis, "I have the right to come and go as I please and it pleases me to go home to Yorktown."
"I'm not trying to imprison you here! You can go home after the fighting is over. I just want you to stay at Thayer's Folly for now. It's the only place where I know you'll be safe." He
came around the bed, lowering his voice an octave. "We're going to beat them for good this time. With the money Rochambeau has offered from his own military chest, General Washington's been able to pay the troops. Admiral DeGrasse is safe in the Chesapeake with twenty-eight ships. Three thousand Frenchmen are ashore and headed this way to back up Lafayette and Wayne. No one will tell us for sure what's happening, but I'd bet my life Washington is headed for Yorktown. Cornwallis is cornered, don't you see? I tell you, Maggie, the cards are already falling. It won't be long before the war's over and I'm home. I swear it, sweetheart."
"Won't be for long. Ha! Seems I've heard that before." She folded a lacy chemise and laid it carefully in the trunk at the end of the bed. "Noah said those same words back in '76 when he walked off the farm leavin' me alone with a dying mother and crops to bring in. My husband wandered back one afternoon two years later with his feet rottin' in his boots and his breath smellin' of run."
"You can't keep bringing Noah into every argument we have! I'm not Noah Myers!"
She looked up at Grayson, her eyes filled with tears. "You miss the point. The war's still goin' on, Grayson. Men are still dyin'. You're gonna walk out of here and I'm never gonna see you again if I don't go with you."
Grayson exhaled slowly, unable to tear his gaze from hers. Christ, she really does love me, doesn't she? he thought. Putting out his arms, he came to her and pulled her close. He smoothed her unruly bright hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'm not going to get killed. I've got too much to live for, now that I've got you, Maggie mine."
She sniffed and lifted her head from his shoulder to stare into his clear blue eyes. "Then stay," she urged. "Tell Colonel Hastings you've changed your mind." Tell him you're going to marry and have a child, she thought, but couldn't bring herself to say it. "Tell him anything, just don't go."
He glanced away, staring out at the open window. The first of September was nearly upon them, bringing with it the promise of fall on the wings of the morning breeze. Down below in the courtyard Sterling ran with his son, chasing after a leather ball. Grayson smiled a bittersweet smile, wondering if he would ever play in the same courtyard with his own son. He feared he wouldn't.
He looked down at Maggie, who clinged to him in desperation. "Maggie, how can I make you understand? I have to go back. I couldn't be the man I want to be for you if I don't redeem myself. I'm ashamed of the way I fouled things up back there. Don't you see I have no choice; I have to make it right."
She brushed the blond fringe at his forehead. "It wasn't your fault, what with all the demands put upon you."
His eyes narrowed; his face hardened. "You honestly believe that's an excuse for what I did, Maggie?"
There was a long pause as she searched her soul. "I . . ."
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles that had been softened by sweet-smelling hand creams. "What if it was you, Maggie mine? You're as good a soldier as I've ever met. What if it was you that pulled that trick in Commegys' Ordinary a few weeks back? What would you do? Would you excuse yourself, take your pension, and live out your life knowing you failed . . . you failed yourself—your country." His voice caught in his throat—"Even your brother? Or would you go back? Would you right the wrongs or die trying?"
She hung her head, wanting to lie but knowing she couldn't. "I'd go back," she conceded finally, her voice barely audible.
"What did you say?" He took her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look him straight in the eyes.
Her own expression hardened to match his. "I said I'd have to go back," she answered more loudly.
"Ah hah."
She pushed his hand aside and walked away. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"I'm not asking you to like it. All I'm asking is for you to accept it. Wait for me here at Thayer's Folly and I'll come back, I swear to God I will." He snatched a pair of cotton hose from her hands. "Better yet, marry me before I go. Be my wife."
"I've been a widow once." She calmly took back the hose and dropped them into the trunk. "I'll not be one again."
Grayson spun around, swearing foully. "It's like talking to a stone fence, talking to you. Maggie Myers! You're not hearing a word I say!"
"No. You're not hearing what I'm saying, Grayson. I'm saying if you have to go, I can't marry you, but I can go with you. I can be there to hold you in my arms on the battlefield when you die."
He grimaced. "A woman! No one's going to let you on a battlefield!"
She spun around in fury. She knew this would happen. She knew that if she ever became involved with another man, he would try to run her life. He would tell her when to come and go. Next he'd be telling her what to say. "What?" she shouted. "They're gonna put up fences? Now you listen and you listen well, mister rich Virginian planter. I'll go where I damn well please. Not you, not anyone is going to stop me!"
He threw up his hands. "I give up! I should have known a woman of your background could never make an intelligent decision!"
Stunned by Grayson's cruel words. Maggie watched him walk out of her bedchamber and slam the door. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached for his scarlet coat and hugged it to her chest.
The sound of chirping crickets and the whisper of the wind blowing through the pines eased the ache in Maggie's heart. Holy Mother Mary, but it was good to be home again! She climbed the back fence and left her hounds to watch her disappear over the hill. Once on the dusty road, she stepped aside, her hand falling to the pistol tucked in her skirt pocket as several greencoats galloped by.
She'd only been gone a few weeks, but in that short time, the war had taken a sharp turn. The British Navy was sealed in by the French, and Cornwallis and his troops were trapped on the York Peninsula. For the first time since '75 General Washington had a chance to take the offensive.
There was a strange electricity in the air in Yorktown. The British and their German counterparts were homesick and they were afraid. Maggie could hear the fear in their voices. Their movements were skittish. They were suddenly overly suspicious of every man, woman, and child who stepped foot in their camps. Redcoat and bluecoat alike seemed to be caught in a cauldron of simmering water knowing it was only a matter of time before it began to boil over.
As soon as she had arrived home this morning, Maggie had gone back into the camp peddling her wares and offering to make boot repairs in order to reestablish herself with the British Army. After all, who knew how she might be able to aid the patriot army that was closing in with each day? And then there was Grayson. She ran her hand over her belly. Even though Grayson and she had parted on ill terms, she still wanted to know when the prisoner exchange was made and that it had gone as it should. As far as she could gather, he'd not yet arrived in the camp.
With the Hessian horsemen gone, Maggie stepped back onto the road and quickened her pace, heading for Commegys' ordinary. Though she had sent a note to her sister letting her know she was safe, she was anxious to reassure her. And then there were the others. She'd gone to Zeke's house, but Mildred, after scolding Maggie for scaring her out of her wits disappearing like that, had said Zeke was gone but would be in the tavern tonight.
Maggie had fabricated a story to tell to those who would ask her where she'd been these past weeks and she'd been prepared to tell it to Mildred Barnes, but the old woman hadn't asked. Maggie didn't know if she knew the truth or not. Some things just seemed to be better left unsaid.
By the time Maggie reached the crossroad, dusk was settling in. The tavern was well lit, lanternlight spilling from every window in the two-story house. The haunting wail of bagpipes sounded from inside, along with the pounding of dancing feet. Smoke rose from the chimney and curled in the dying light rising heavenward, bringing with it the pungent smell of hickory and roast pork.
Maggie couldn't resist a smile. Home. It felt good to be home again among her own kind. What the serving wench, Inga, had said had cut her deeply. Logic told her the girl had spoken out of cruel jealousy, but Maggie's heart ached. Just
when she had begun to hope, to dream, that she and Grayson just might have the barest sliver of a chance to live happily, the thoughtless chit had shattered that hope. And then what Grayson had said about a woman of her background . . . Even taking into consideration that he had reacted out of anger, Maggie feared he was right. It had been childish dreaming to think she could marry Grayson and raise her child at Thayer's Folly in happiness. This love she and Grayson felt for each other—it just seemed to be another casualty of this blasted war.
Maggie pushed open the door to the tavern and paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lantern and candlelight. The public room was busting at its seams with red- and green-coated soldiers. Most of the townfolk who had frequented the tavern for years were visibly absent. With the threat of battle on the doorsteps, many had closed up their home and taken their families to safer ground in neighboring towns, praying they would still have a home to come to after the British and Colonists clashed. Sidestepping a Hessian's embrace, she made a beeline for the kitchen door.
"Oh, thank the Holy Virgin!" her sister Alice declared from across the room as she threw her arms into the air and clasped them as if in prayer.
Manny glanced up from where he crouched on his hands and knees attempting, with a scrap of meat, to bribe the spit dog out from under the table. "Good to see you, Sister."
Alice came around the table, her gait made awkward by her swollen abdomen. "I never thought I'd see you again, Maggie! I thought for sure someone had carried you off!"
Maggie hugged her sister. "Didn't you get my note? I said I was all right."
"I will set him in the safety he panteth for, did say the Lord," Manny quoted as he dove for the little spit dog and brought it up yipping. "Psalm, twelve." The spotted pup whined as it straggled to escape Manny's hold.
Maggie took the spit dog into her arms and smoothed its head, soothing it in a hushed voice. "I'm sorry I frightened you, Alice. I didn't mean to make you worry."
Alice wiped her drawn, perspiration-soaked face with the comer of her apron. "What happened to you? Where did you go?"
The Bootmaker's Daughter: Revolution (Destiny's Daughters Book 2) Page 23
