“Shall I begin, Mr. Amberly?” Elise prayed their discussion would go well. What a blessing it would be if she were able to uncover all the information Zechariah required before they reached Charles Towne. With her orders fulfilled, she would be free to avoid the man and no longer have to worry about the disturbing emotions he stirred in her.
“If you like. But first, please call me Drake?”
“It wouldn’t be proper.”
His golden eyes danced with mirth. “Last night I was given to understand you care little for propriety.”
“What of your family and background?” she asked, determined to keep the conversation focused on him. “Are your parents living? Have you any siblings?”
His expression sobered. “My mother was of Roman extraction. My parents and older brother perished on a return voyage from Rome ten years past. I was left with the care of my two younger siblings. A sister, Eva, and brother, Anthony. Anthony passed away a few months ago.”
Her heart twisted with pity. “I’m so sorry. There’s nothing worse than losing a loved one.”
“I agree. Especially when he died by means of foul play.”
“My goodness! That’s doubly distressing.”
“I’ve come to terms with his death, but I won’t rest until his murderer is punished.”
She leaned forward and touched his hand in commiseration. “I’d want to do the same if it were my brother, but I hope you won’t allow your vengeance to rule you.”
“Anthony has no one else to avenge his honor.”
The fire in Amberly’s eyes frightened her. “I believe vengeance is best left to God.”
“Are you a religious woman, Miss Cooper?”
“Religious? Not terribly,” she admitted. “However, I am a Christian and do my best to follow God’s word.”
Drake glanced across the river to the passing shore. “I gave up on God ages ago. A man can only endure so many disappointments before he realizes his faith has been misplaced.”
Elise noticed his white-knuckled grip on the ferry’s rail. Her heart went out to him. “I don’t believe the Lord abandoned you. Not when His word promises He’ll never leave or forsake us.”
His mouth tightened into a hard line. “I hope you’re right.”
She recognized the bitterness and grief churning beneath his matter-of-fact tone. She understood loss. In the past two years, her home, freedom and many of her loved ones had all been taken from her, yet she couldn’t imagine how empty her life would be without her faith to sustain her.
A flock of birds landed on the river’s calm surface. Elise used the distraction to gather her thoughts. “What of your sister? I’m certain you must miss her.”
His expression softened and she could tell he and the girl were close.
“Eva is fifteen. She’s a hoyden despite my best efforts. She’s still in the schoolroom and loathes every moment of it. I’ve no doubt the servants have their hands full while I’m away.”
“I’m sure she’d prefer sailing the seven seas with you.”
“Most doubtful. She prefers horses to anything or anyone else. I understand you also have a horse you’re quite fond of. Zechariah warned me of your ire should I borrow him.”
“Zechariah exaggerates.”
“He said you’d take a horsewhip to me. That he’d have to scrape me from the stable walls if I dared to touch the beast.”
An indignant retort bubbled to her lips until she noticed the teasing gleam in his eyes. She laughed at her own quick temper. “I see that you jest at my expense, but Freedom is dear to me.”
“No doubt.”
“Zechariah loaned him to me when I first arrived to stay at Brixton Hall.”
“And when was that?”
“Eighteen months ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? The Sayers are amicable people.”
He nodded in agreement. “I, too, have found them as such. But the circumstances that brought you to Zechariah’s wardship must have been tragic for you.”
She bowed her head and her fingers fiddled with the end of the silk tie joining her bodice. She knew he must think her an orphan. Most people assumed she needed a protector because they believed the history Zechariah had created for her when she came to work for him at Brixton Hall. “Aye, most tragic.”
She looked beyond him to the calm river and marshy green banks that stretched as far as the eye could see. In truth, her situation was grim for entirely different reasons. She’d come to work for Zechariah because of her stepfather’s greed. After Roger wed her mother, Anne, he’d claimed the Virginia land and slaves as Anne’s property, then sold everything off for a tidy sum.
When Roger sold Prin to Zechariah, Elise did all she could to see her set free. Sayer refused to sell her, but had offered Prin’s freedom as the prize in exchange for Elise’s loyalty and work as a spy until the war’s end.
At the time, she’d been praying for a way to escape Roger and thought the Lord had made a way. For half her spy’s pay, she and Prin received room and board. In exchange for his silence, Roger gleaned another quarter of her profits though he never let her forget he could make just as much or more by turning her over to the British if she refused to compensate him for his silence.
Up until the night of Hawk’s death, she’d been convinced the Lord would see her through. That her success as a spy had been God’s reward for serving a just cause. Now, racked by guilt for her part in a man’s death, she wasn’t so certain.
“Have you been in shipping long?” she asked in an effort to draw the conversation back to Drake.
“Twelve years, counting my stint in the Royal Navy.”
“The navy?” Elise asked with interest.
“Aye, I left home at sixteen and went to sea. Over the next two years, I learned to love all things nautical and decided to make my fortune in shipping. When my father and older brother passed away unexpectedly, I took on the responsibilities of family matters, though I never forgot my own aspirations. I bought my first ship at twenty. Since then, I’m happy to say, I’ve steadily added to the line and hope to see its continued growth and prosperity.”
“From the moment I saw you last evening, I knew you were a determined man.”
He shrugged. “I suppose so. However, I must confess my determination is born from a fear of being idle. My family has farmed for years. Unfortunately, it bores me senseless.”
“How coincidental. My father farmed near the western border of Virginia.”
“Virginia? I’ve heard the land is rich and untamed, but that living there is nearly impossible with the savages roaming hither and yon.”
“It can be,” she acknowledged. “We did well enough in our dealings with the natives. My father made treaties with their leaders, and we respected one another. It was beautiful there. Untouched country with trees so high the mist settled in their branches and an abundance of game that would feed an army for a score of years.”
“The place sounds like Eden.” His expression turned thoughtful. “I was under the impression land grants were given by the king for service rendered. Did your father begin as a military man?”
She lowered her eyes. “No, I’m ashamed to say he didn’t believe in the king’s sovereignty.”
His eyes darkened. “He spoke treason.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter now. He died two years ago.”
“I apologize,” he said and quickly changed the subject. “What did you like best about living in Virginia?”
“More than anything else, I enjoyed the solitude and freedom. A blessing I’ve had to relinquish since I came to live at Brixton Hall.”
“Little wonder you named your horse as a reminder.”
The ferry’s bell rang and the craft lurched as it shifted course. Drake looked over his shoulder. “Obviously we’re not to Charles Towne. Where are we?”
“We’re docking at Riverwood Plantation. Its owner, Robert Gray, is a friend of the Sayers. Did you happen to make his acquaintance at the ball last night?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“He’s a pleasant man. Last fall a storm struck and ruined many of the Grays’ fields right before the harvest. Zechariah is exchanging rice for other supplies to aid him.”
“Is Gray one of the rebels or is he Tory?”
Elise thought of the gunpowder and muskets being traded for rice. “I believe his politics match those of Zechariah. I don’t usually pay attention to such things. Men are always preaching to us women that we shouldn’t bother with politics. They say our minds are too simple and can’t grasp the intricacies required to understand. They’re probably right. I have enough trouble counting my cross stitch.”
Elise almost choked on her words. She expected Amberly to agree with her in typical male fashion, but he surprised her.
“I don’t believe it,” he said. “I find that women, given the right encouragement, have no difficulty understanding any given subject. Some are even more clever than men, while the majority are more cunning.”
The ferry jarred against the dock. Watching the deckhands rush to tie the mooring lines, Elise noted the cynicism in Drake’s voice. She wondered what foolish woman had hurt him.
A loud crash drew Elise’s attention to a crate being hauled aboard. She drew in a sharp breath. The box contained weapons and ammunition sorely needed by the patriots. French and American privateers smuggled the weapons as far as Riverwood. From there, she or Christian supervised their removal to Brixton Hall, then saw them farther upriver, and that much closer to the swamps that provided protection for the war-ravaged militia.
It was dangerous to transport munitions to Charles Towne, especially in broad daylight. Under normal circumstances she would have collected them under the cover of night. She didn’t have that option today. At the ball last night, a loyal agent had warned Zechariah that the British had gotten wind of Riverwood’s stash and planned to raid this afternoon. Now when the Brits arrived on Gray’s doorstep, they’d find nothing stored but indigo and cotton, the very crops English merchants demanded of their Colonial brethren.
Seeing the box was safe, she released a sigh of relief, which quickly disappeared when she noticed Amberly’s interest in the crate. Hoping to distract him, she entwined her arm with his and acted as though she might faint. “I declare the sun is blinding me. It’s strong enough to set my skin afire.”
“Would you care for a drink?” he said with concern.
“No, thank you. I just need to sit down.” She hated to play the roll of insipid female, but she wanted him as far from the crate as possible. After all, he was English and subject to suspicion.
The ferry rocked again, announcing its departure from Riverwood. She heard the slap of water on the sides of the ferry and felt safe for the time being. The crate would be hidden away from notice. All would be well as long as they avoided the British patrolling the river.
They arrived in Charles Towne a short time later. The British-held city provided the main port for English supplies entering the Southern colonies. From the ferry’s deck, Elise watched as ship after ship filled every available berth, their tall masts rising high like a forest of leafless, swaying trees. Seagulls squawked as they dipped and dived in the cloudless blue sky.
With no berth available, the ferry captain anchored in the harbor. He signaled a pair of skiffs to transport his passengers ashore. Grateful for the development, Elise viewed the situation as a blessing. With the ferry anchored away from shore, enemy soldiers would be less tempted to search the nondescript craft. Evidently the Lord had taken pity on her after all.
Elise stepped aboard the second of the smaller boats. Amberly followed and sat beside her on one of the rough-hewn benches that ran horizontally within the skiff. Seven other passengers joined them. The craft moved at speed once the oars were put to water.
The closer they came to the pier, the greater the odor. The stink of rotting fish, unwashed bodies and overripe produce infested the wind. Elise removed a scented handkerchief from the satchel she held secure in her lap and covered her nose and mouth.
Drake leaned close. “As I said, Miss Cooper, women are often more clever than men. If not, I’d be the one with something to spare my nose from this stench.”
Elise handed him the cloth, but he declined. “I’d think you’d be familiar with the putrid scents of a wharf, Mr. Amberly.”
“Aye,” he commented drily. “The same as a gravedigger grows used to decay.”
The wharf teemed with life. British regulars lined the pier, their black knee-high boots gleaming as they paced in the sun. The racket of hollering sailors, hawking merchants and bustling pedestrians vied with the pummel of waves against the seawall.
Elise waited while a sailor tied the skiff. Drake jumped to the dock and helped her alight from the swaying craft. She moved aside and watched with admiration while he handed up the other women who’d accompanied them.
Finished with the task, he offered to carry her satchel but she refused. They walked along the pier, occasionally stepping over piles of refuse and other debris. Rough-looking sailors pushed and shoved through the crowd, their crude speech booming in her ear.
Drake slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side as though to protect her from the ruffians. The action startled her. He had no way of knowing her duty to discover information for Zechariah had made her familiar with these harsh surroundings. Drake’s care touched a deep chord of gratefulness within her. Other than Christian’s brotherly concern, no man had ever shown her such consideration.
At the end of the pier, a congested street stretched before them. Drake asked her for the address she wished to visit, then approached a carriage for hire. He spoke to the driver for several moments before motioning for her to join him. She followed, and when he opened the door for her, stepped into the less-than-grand interior.
“Shall I put your satchel topside?” Drake asked.
“No.” She sounded sterner than she meant to, but she had the letters to protect. “No, thank you. Seems everyone is in need of something these days. Luggage has a tendency to walk off on its own.”
Drake finished with the driver and removed his tricorn before climbing into the coach. “’Tis the same in London. Thieves delight in robbing a body blind.”
Elise tucked the satchel under the seat behind her feet. She swept back the folds of her skirt, making room for him on the worn cowhide seat across from her. The space was so small Drake’s head brushed the roof. The ill-sprung hack bounced into motion, eliciting a grunt from him when he bumped his head.
She sat forward in concern. “Are you all right?”
Drake rubbed the abused spot. “Quite so, but I believe I’ll be ordering a new coach built before the day is out.”
Within a few blocks, the coach rolled to a stop in front of a two-story brick dwelling with a painted black door and shutters. In the side yard, a clothesline hung between Tabby’s house and the one next door. A bright green dress and half a dozen white petticoats flapped in the breeze.
“It seems we’re already here.” He sounded disappointed. “I hope you won’t miss me too much while I’m gone.”
She would, for he was stimulating company. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Amberly. I shall forget you the moment I leave this coach.”
Hand to his heart, he said, “You wound me sorely.”
She rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “Just don’t bleed on the cushions. The driver will charge you an even greater fare, and you’ve already been swindled.”
“How so?”
“I heard the outrageous price you settled on when we left the wharf.”
“I hired the driver for the whole day.”
“But you’re paying him for a week.”
He shrugged. “I’ll not worry about the price and consider it charity. The poor man has twenty-two children and six grandchildren to feed.”
“Impossible. He can’t be a day over twenty.”
“Chasing his grandchildren keeps him young. He turned five and seventy just last week.”
Elise shook her head as she recalled the driver’s boyish face. Chuckling, “You’re mad, Drake Amberly.”
“Aha! You called me by my name. Since you’ve relented, I’ll expect you to use it all the more.”
The driver thumped on the roof. Elise glanced up. “I believe he thinks we’re too obtuse to notice we’ve stopped. It’s no wonder considering how easily he took you for a fortune.”
“A pittance, merely.”
“If you’re not concerned about your funds, I’m certainly not. It’s my reputation I’m worried about.”
He chuckled. “I should have known.”
“I don’t want him thinking I’m a simpleton just because of the company I keep.”
He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. With a wink, he added, “Finally, Miss Cooper, a kind word from your sweet lips. I shall carry it with me all day.” He opened the coach door and leapt out. Offering his hand, he helped her down. “I understand the ferry leaves at half past three. I’ll send the driver to meet you here an hour prior.”
“I can make my own way.”
He waved away her protest. “I’ve no doubt, but why when I’ve already hired the coach?”
“What about you? How will you return to the wharf?”
“I have business near the waterfront. I’ll walk. If you should need me, I’m meeting an associate at a tavern called The Rolling Tide.”
Elise glanced away. The shock of his announcement twisted her stomach. How was it possible Amberly chose the very tavern where Hawk had died?
“The Rolling Tide, you say? May I ask what possessed you to choose that despicable place? I hear the food they prepare is nothing short of hog slop.”
Thick lashes screened his golden eyes, but the black door of the house flung wide before he could answer.
“Elise, you’re here! I was beginning to think you would never arrive.” Tabby Smith picked her way down the house’s three front steps. With a bright smile on her face and a bloom in her cheeks, she made the picture of contentment. Heavily pregnant, she looked due to give birth any minute.
“Tabby, it’s so good to see you.” The two women embraced, and Elise turned and introduced her friend to Drake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Amberly.” Tabby gave him a considering look. “Have we met before?”
Drake bowed respectfully and kissed the back of Tabby’s hand. “I don’t believe so, Mrs. Smith. I’ve no doubt I would remember your lovely face.”
“I can see you’re a charmer, sir.” She winked at Elise. “You’d best watch this one or you’ll be married before the summer is out.”
“Tabby, please!” Elise felt her cheeks heat. She faced Drake, who didn’t bother to disguise his mirth. “Don’t you have business down by the wharf, Mr. Amberly?”
“The wharf?” Tabby asked with interest. “If you find yourself hungry, visit a tavern called The Rolling Tide. I hear the food there is delicious.”
To his credit, Drake didn’t contradict her friend. “I’ve heard mixed reviews, but since you recommend it, I’ll partake of lunch there.” To Elise, “You’re quite correct, Miss Cooper. I must be on my way.” He propped his elbow on the door’s inset window. “I hope to meet you again, Mrs. Smith. I shall see you at the ferry, Miss Cooper. Good day to you both.”
Elise waved, bereft to see him go. “Good day, Mr. Amberly.”
She watched the carriage ramble down the road until it turned out of sight. A wistful sigh broke from her lips as Tabby placed her arm around her shoulders and walked her to the house. “You have the look of a woman falling in love, my friend.”
Elise lifted her chin. “Ridiculous. I only met the man last night. Besides, he’s English. Other than spying on them, I have no interest in the enemy.”
“Prudent, but the heart doesn’t always follow the will of the mind. I was engaged to a wealthy planter when I met and eloped with Josiah. Now look at me.”
Elise patted her friend’s huge belly. “Yes, you’re what...thirteen months pregnant?”
Tabby giggled, “Feels like twenty. What do you think your Mr. Amberly meant when he said he’d heard mixed reviews for the Tide?”
“Oh, Tabby, that’s my fault.” Tabby and Josiah owned The Rolling Tide. The inn had been the favored spot for her and Hawk to meet because Josiah provided a lookout and did anything else he could to help her. He’d been the one to prop the ladder by the window the night Hawk planned to turn her in. Her face scrunched with guilt. “I told him the food was terrible.”
Tabby stopped in her tracks and slowly turned her head in disbelief. “You did what? How could you? I prepared the roast leg of lamb myself this very morn. My dumplings are the talk of Charles Towne.”
“I know, but it startled me to learn he had business there.”
Tabby patted her shoulder in commiseration. “Now I understand. But once he tries my greens and ham, he’ll think you have no taste at all. Did you bring the letters?”
Elise nodded. “They’re in my satchel. I wrapped them in the blankets I knitted....”
She spun in the middle of the walk and ran to the dirt road, looking in the direction Drake had traveled. “Of all the witless... How could I have been so careless, Tabby? I’ve forgotten my satchel in Amberly’s coach!”
Without any comment, her friend waddled up the steps as fast as her rounded body would take her. Elise ran past just in time to pull the door open wide.
“Henry!” Tabby called her servant. “Fetch the wagon. We have an Englishman and my blankets to catch.”