Less Than a Gentleman

  Across the river, the redcoat had managed to stay in the tree, although he appeared to have lost his musket.

  Matthias scrambled up the tree on his side. He yanked his knife from his belt and began sawing at the rope.

  The redcoat pulled off one of his white cross belts and looped it over the rope. He shoved off from the tree.

  “Damn,” Matthias muttered as the redcoat hurtled through the air straight toward him. One last chop with his knife and the rope broke.

  With a yelp, the redcoat plunged into the river. Matthias jumped down from the tree, grabbed his crossbow, and sprinted upriver.

  Another gunshot exploded behind him. He dove behind a tree and peered through the cover of leafy branches as the thud of pounding feet came toward him. It was the officer. He had survived and come ashore on this side.

  Matthias reached into his quiver. The last arrow. He clicked it into place and waited. Timing is everything.

  He heard the man’s labored breathing as he ran forward. Matthias stepped from behind the tree and pulled the trigger. The officer fell.

  “Halt! Damn you!” It was the second redcoat, the one who had fallen in the river. His tricorne and wig gone, his uniform dripping, the man charged toward Matthias.

  Matthias drew his knife.

  A swoosh of air blew past him.

  The redcoat jolted to a stop, then slumped to the ground, an arrow imbedded in his chest.

  Matthias looked around, but saw no one. He approached the fallen redcoats to make sure they were dead.

  “Are you all right?” Jacob ran toward him. “I heard gunfire.”

  “I’m fine.” Matthias motioned to the second redcoat. “Thanks to you. You may have saved my life.”

  Jacob frowned at the arrow, then pivoted slowly, gazing into the woods.

  “Something amiss?” Matthias asked.

  “Yes,” Jacob answered. “I didn’t shoot that arrow.”

  Matthias scanned the woods around them. “Whoever he is, he appears to be on our side.”

  Jacob hunched down beside the body and examined the arrow. “It looks like one that I made.”

  “The third crossbow. Damn, that explains it.”

  Jacob glanced up. “What do you mean?”

  Matthias lifted his bow. “This is the misaligned one. Remember how I missed that first shot?”

  Jacob straightened. “But there were only two bows in the house this morning. I thought you must have discarded the bad one.”

  “I thought you had.” Matthias strode upriver toward the mill. “Our mysterious helper has the missing crossbow.”

  Jacob accompanied him. “Who could he be?”

  “I don’t know.” The mill came into view, then Jacob’s house. Matthias jerked to a halt as a chill swept through him. “God, no.” Not Caroline.

  “What?” Jacob pivoted, searching the woods for something wrong.

  “Caroline passed through the house. She could have taken it.”

  “The crossbow?” Jacob gave him an incredulous look. “I cannot imagine her killing anyone.”

  Matthias pounded his thigh with his fist. “Bloody hell! I told her to stay out of this.”

  “But whoever did it saved your life.”

  “I could have killed that man myself. God help me, I’m good at it now.” Matthias shoved a loose strand of hair out of his face.

  A vision of Caroline flitted through his head-—her arms crossed, her chin lifted in defiance. I’ll be ready to help, whether you like it or not. And the last time they had spied on Hickman, she had threatened to commit murder. Sweet Lord, what ungodly effect this war had on people, turning the innocent into killers.

  “Matthias.” Jacob jabbed him on the shoulder. “Come on. We still have work to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  In the nursery, Caroline finished reading out loud the last page of Charlotte’s book.

  Edward jumped off his bed. “Thank God that’s over.”

  “Shh.” Virginia motioned to his sleeping sister. “Don’t wake her. She barely slept at all last night.”

  “Poor Charlotte,” Caroline whispered as she returned the young girl’s book to a bookcase against the wall.

  “Aye.” Ginny pulled a quilt up to Charlotte’s shoulders. “That scene in the parlor frightened the wits out of her.”

  “It scared me, too.” Caroline shuddered. Poor Jane, alone in her room. This was her second day without food, although according to Betsy, Jane did have some of her favorite candied fruit hidden in a drawer.

  Caroline skimmed her fingers over the selection of books, wishing there was something she could do. An untitled book caught her eye and she opened it. The beginning pages were filled with handwriting, a crude, childish script, signed Matthias with a backward S.

  His journal, began in his childhood. Caroline snapped the book shut and shoved it back onto the shelf. Where was this Matthias when his mother was starving to death?

  A boom sounded in the distance.

  Caroline whirled to face her sister just as a second explosion followed the first. “What was that?”

  Ginny bit her lip. “Gunpowder. Or cannon fire?”

  Edward ran to the door. “ ’Tis the Continental Army, come to push the bloody lobsterbacks into the sea!”

  Caroline followed him. “It could be the partisans.” Or it could be Thomas and Jacob and their secret plan. Two more explosions roared in the distance.

  “Let’s go and look,” Edward whispered.

  “I’m coming, too,” Ginny said.

  Caroline opened the door as her sister waddled toward them. “Are you sure you shouldn’t rest?”

  “I feel fine today. Not tired at all.” Ginny hurried through the door. “Edward! Don’t run ahead of us.”

  When they reached the front porch of the Great House, Caroline spotted Captain Hickman and both the foot soldiers down by the riverbank. Agatha Ludlow was strolling toward them, her peach-colored parasol ruffling gently in the breeze. In the distance, a column of black smoke billowed into the air.

  Edward raced to the river. Caroline and Ginny were halfway there when he sprinted back.

  Edward grinned. “The supply barge is ablaze!”

  “Oh, my,” Ginny whispered.

  Caroline ran to the pier and looked downriver. The barge was totally consumed with fire, the air around it shimmering with heat. The smell of burning wood was accented by other strong odors, black pitch and gunpowder, and what she feared was burning flesh.

  “How dreadful.” Agatha flicked open a delicately painted fan of thin chicken skin and fluttered it in front of her face. “I wager I can feel the heat from here.”

  Captain Hickman turned to Caroline, his face red with anger. “What do you know of this, Miss Munro?”

  She blinked. “Nothing. I . . . Perhaps they had an accident with the gunpowder on board.”

  “This was no accident. Pugsley, Bertram!” the captain yelled at his soldiers. “I want every inch of the riverbank inspected. Look for survivors. And if you see anyone suspicious, shoot to kill.”

  “Aye, sir!” they shouted in unison and darted down the path toward the mill.

  Caroline swallowed hard. Hopefully, Jacob and Thomas would keep out of sight.

  Hickman shook his head and muttered, “Dammit. There will be hell to pay for this.”

  Virginia and Edward reached the pier.

  “What a disgusting odor.” Agatha fanned herself harder. “I only hope that horrid smoke doesn’t reach the house. I would hate for that smell to infect my gowns.”

  Caroline exchanged a look with her sister. Men had probably lost their lives in the explosion, and Agatha was concerned about her clothes. Her gaze wandered to the Great House. Jane. No one was in the house to guard her.

  She cleared her throat. “I c
ould close the windows.”

  “Oh, would you?” Agatha gave her a beseeching look. “How kind of you.”

  Caroline grabbed Edward’s arm as she stepped off the pier. “Come and help me.”

  Edward tugged away. “I want to watch the fire.”

  “Edward.” Caroline gave him a pointed look.

  “Come along, Edward.” Virginia nabbed him by the arm and accompanied Caroline back to the house. “What are you planning?” she whispered.

  “You can close the windows on the front porch while you keep watch for me,” Caroline whispered back. “Let me know if any of the soldiers come back.”

  “Of course.” Virginia smiled. “Jane’s guards are gone.”

  “Exactly. I’m going to take some food to her.” Caroline took off running, leaving her sister and nephew behind. She dashed through the house and then burst into the kitchen.

  Dottie was at the table, shelling peas. “What is happening out there?”

  “The supply barge is on fire.” Caroline ran to the shelves and grabbed a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. “Jane is unguarded. I mean to pass some food to her.”

  “Excellent! Here.” Dottie handed her a cloth sack and a bottle of cider.

  With a sack full of food and drink, Caroline darted back into the house and up the stairs.

  “Jane!” She jiggled the latch to Jane’s door. It was locked. “Jane, can you hear me?”

  The sound of footsteps approached the door. “Caroline, is that you?”

  “Yes. I have some food for you.”

  “The door is locked. Is the guard not there?”

  “The soldiers are by the river.” Caroline yanked once more on the door handle, then thumped her fist against the wood in frustration. There had to be a way.

  “What were those explosions outside?”

  Ignoring Jane’s question, Caroline dashed onto the balcony to examine the door there. A series of boards had been nailed across the glass-paned door to keep Jane from exiting, but the gaps were wide enough to pass something through.

  She looked toward the river. Blast! If Hickman turned toward the house, he would see her. She squatted down, hoping the balcony railing provided enough cover.

  A repetitive hammering sound came from within the house. Was Jane pounding on the other door?

  Caroline wrapped her hand in her skirt and shattered a pane of glass near the floor. “Jane! Over here.”

  Jane’s face appeared between two slats of wood. “Be careful. Someone could see you.”

  The hammering grew louder.

  “What is that noise?” Jane asked.

  “I was going to ask you.” Caroline removed the bottle of cider from her sack and passed it through the hole in the door.

  Jane grabbed the bottle. “I believe it is coming from upstairs. Oh, my Lord!”

  “What?” Caroline pressed against the glass door, trying to see. She heard a metallic, scraping sound.

  “Two metal stakes ripped through my ceiling,” Jane said. “And now, two saws are cutting through the wood.”

  Thomas and Jacob! Caroline grinned. They were safe. And rescuing Jane. She stuffed the rest of the provisions through the hole. “Jane, listen to me. Take this sack and pack it with whatever you wish to take with you.”

  “I . . . I’m leaving?”

  “Yes! Hurry!” Staying low, Caroline hurried back into the house.

  She scurried up the narrow staircase to the third floor. As she ran to the east end of the house, the scrape of the saws grew louder. They must be in the small storage room across the hall from her room. She tried the door. It opened an inch before ramming into a piece of furniture.

  The sawing stopped.

  “Thomas?” she whispered.

  “Dammit, Caroline.” The sawing resumed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to help.”

  The sound decreased to one saw. Footsteps pounded to the door and Thomas peered through the opening, his face ruddy with exertion. “You have helped more than enough already!”

  Caroline blinked. “What did I do?”

  His eyes flashed with anger. “If you want to be useful, go and saddle three horses.”

  “Yes, of course.” Caroline shut the door and ran toward the stairs. Why was Thomas angry with her?

  “Aunt Caroline?” Charlotte appeared at the nursery door, a frightened look on her face. “I woke up and I was all alone.”

  “Come with me.” Caroline grabbed her hand and ushered her down the stairs and onto the front porch.

  The little girl ran into her mother’s arms.

  Virginia hugged her as she spoke to Caroline, “Did you succeed? Does Jane have food?”

  “Yes. Thomas and Jacob are rescuing her.”

  “Zounds,” Edward whispered. “Aunt Jane is escaping?”

  Caroline nodded. “They need my help. Can you keep the redcoats from coming in until after they’ve left? And Edward, I need you to go inside and close all the windows.”

  “We’ll take care of everything,” Virginia assured her. “Go on.”

  Caroline ran out the back door to the stables. The first horse, feeling her excitement, shook its head, making it more difficult to put on the harness.

  “Shh. Good boy.” She rubbed his nose. The action soothed her own nerves along with the horse. While saddling the third horse, she heard the creak of the stable door.

  Thomas slipped inside. “Are the horses ready?”

  “Yes.” Caroline cinched the last saddle. “Did you rescue Jane?”

  “Aye.” He took the reins of the three horses and led them toward the door. “Thank you.”

  “I’m happy to help. Did you cause the explosions?”

  He gave her skeptical look. “Why ask? You were there, weren’t you?”

  “I was in the nursery.”

  “We’ll discuss it later.” He scowled at stable door. “Will you check outside?”

  Caroline peeked outside. “No one in sight.”

  Thomas exited with the horses.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “The less you know, the better.”

  Caroline planted her hands on her hips. “Am I untrustworthy all of a sudden?”

  “Go back to the Great House. We’ll talk later.”

  Caroline glared at his back as he led the horses into the woods. For a man who claimed to love her, he was treating her in a most unfriendly manner. She followed him, winding through the trees.

  He glanced over his shoulder, frowning at her. “There’s no need to guard my back. I can take care of myself.”

  Guard his back? She opened her mouth to question him when she spotted the others. “Jane! Jacob!” She ran forward and embraced them both. “I’m so happy you’re all right.”

  Thomas helped Jane mount a horse, then tied her pack to the saddle horn. He glanced briefly at Caroline. “Go back to the Great House before they notice you’re missing.”

  Caroline frowned. “Fine.”

  Thomas started to mount, then abruptly pulled her against him. “Stay out of trouble.” He kissed her hard, then turned away to mount his horse.

  Caroline touched her mouth as they rode away. His kiss had been an odd mixture of desire and anger. Was he angry that she’d avoided him after his confession of love?

  She wandered back to the Great House. On the front porch, Virginia and Charlotte rested on a bench. Edward sat on the front steps with a sour look on his face. In the distance, the pillar of smoke had dimmed to a wispy gray.

  “Is Jane safely away?” Virginia asked.

  Caroline nodded. “Yes, thank God.”

  “That’s good.” Virginia sighed. “Hickman will be furious. He may try to blame us.”

  “You were on the porch here in plain sight,” Caroline as
sured her. “And Edward and I were gone only a few minutes to close windows. Right, Edward?”

  “Right.” He nodded.

  Caroline turned her attention to the riverbank. Captain Hickman was standing there with Agatha Ludlow. Pugsley and Bertram trudged toward him with a dead body, then dropped it on the ground at the captain’s feet.

  Agatha squealed in horror and scurried toward the Great House, her parasol waving erratically. Hickman’s voice, loud and angry, drifted toward them on the breeze.

  Edward glanced back. “Come on, Mama, let me go. Then I can tell you what I learn.”

  “No, Edward, you’re staying here.”

  Edward glowered at his mother. “I’m not afraid of a dead body. I’ve seen them before.”

  Virginia smoothed her hand over her swollen belly. “Good Lord, what a time to be raising children.”

  “This is horrid!” Agatha paced toward them. “Simply horrid!”

  “What has happened?” Caroline asked.

  “A disaster!” Agatha ascended the steps to the front porch. “I thought Loblolly would be safe from the war, but I was wrong. Those disgusting rebels are all around us. I’m seriously considering returning to Charles Town.”

  Caroline tried again. “I meant what is happening with the barge?”

  Agatha shrugged. “Nothing. ’Tis burned and the men are dead. Where is Betsy? I’ll need her to pack my things.”

  “The soldiers they found, how did they die?” Edward asked. “Were they burned in the fire?”

  Agatha wrinkled her nose. “What a horrid curiosity for a child . No, they were shot with arrows, murdered by those evil partisans.” She marched into the house.

  Arrows. Caroline remembered the crossbows in Jacob’s house. And she had seen Thomas practicing with one. No wonder he and Jacob had not wanted her involved. This was not a matter of hiding in secret passageways or exchanging pinecones for potatoes.

  She shuddered. Thomas and Jacob would be hunted men now. The British would not rest until they were dead.

  “Well done, Major Thomas,” Francis Marion announced after Matthias had given him a brief recounting of the day’s events. The partisan leader bowed his head to Jane. “I am relieved you have been safely delivered, madam.”