Pugsley nodded. “He thinks you will alert the partisans so they can charge to the rescue.”

  Hickman snorted. “Ridiculous.”

  Caroline’s breath caught.

  Pugsley continued, “Since Tarleton expects the partisans to show, he’ll be waiting for them.”

  She pulled back from the peephole, her stomach twisting as the horrible truth sank in. Thomas has ridden into a trap. And her father, Quincy, and Josiah might be with him.

  “So, you see,” Pugsley said. “Your problem is solved. When the partisans fail to arrive, Tarleton will know for a fact that you are loyal to the crown.”

  “My God, what a relief!” Hickman shouted.

  Caroline cupped a hand over her mouth as bile rose in her throat.

  “Of course, Tarleton is hoping you’re guilty,” Pugsley continued. “He wants a chance at Marion. If the partisans come, the townspeople will be spared. ’Twill be the partisans who will die.”

  Caroline slumped against the wall. No, not Thomas.

  Hickman’s voice sounded far away. “I want you to go to Kingstree after dinner. I have to know what happened.”

  She had to know, too. Caroline shut the peephole with trembling fingers. Thomas. Father. Quincy. Josiah. Too many loved ones. She had to know if they had survived.

  She ran back to the kitchen. Her mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. No, impossible to lose them all in one day.

  “Caroline?” Jacob rose to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Good Lord, child, you’re as pale as death,” Dottie said. “Do you need a restorative?”

  She shook her head. The children looked up at her with worried faces, and she forced a smile. “Everything’s fine. I might need to go somewhere for a few hours, but I’ll return soon.” She backed toward the door. “Jacob, can I speak to you outside?”

  “What’s going on?” He joined her as she hurried toward the stable.

  She quickly explained the situation. “You know the way to Snow’s Island, right? You can take me?”

  “Of course.” Jacob helped her saddle two horses.

  The journey to Snow’s Island passed in a daze. Thomas. Father. Quincy. Josiah. Had she lost one of them? All of them?

  When they crossed Lynches River, the water rose up to her skirts. Sweat trickled between her breasts.

  Her stomach knotted. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Soon she would know. She urged her horse to follow Jacob’s up the sandy bank.

  A soldier in plain homespun appeared from behind a tree and leveled a musket at them. “You have business here?”

  “We have family.” Jacob dismounted. “This is Caroline Munro.” He helped her down from her horse.

  “You’re related to Major Munro?” the soldier asked her.

  “He’s my father. Do you know him? Is he all right?”

  “Aye. This way.” The soldier took the reins of their horses and led them around a dense stand of giant cane.

  “What about Thomas, Quincy, and Josiah?” she asked. “Are they all right?”

  “They’re fine. You mean the major, right?” the soldier asked.

  A sob caught in her throat. Thomas was alive. “M-my father is a major.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Aye. Your father is over there, by the graves.” The soldier pointed to a clearing where men were digging two holes in the ground.

  “Oh, God.” Caroline pressed a hand to her mouth. Two bodies lay on the ground, blankets drawn over their heads. Her father, Quincy, and Josiah were helping the gravediggers.

  “Papa!” She darted toward him, and Jacob followed.

  Jamie enveloped her in his strong arms. “Lassie, what are ye doing here?”

  She quickly relayed the conversation she had overhead. She looked at the covered bodies of the two who had died and felt a pang of guilt that she had been so relieved to find her loved ones safe. “If only I had known earlier about the trap, I could have warned you.”

  “Aye.” Jamie wiped sweat from his brow. “At least Hickman will take the blame for this.”

  “How is Ginny?” Quincy asked. “And the baby?”

  “They’re fine.” Caroline hugged him and Josiah. “Is Thomas nearby? I want to see him.”

  “I believe he’s with his cousin.” Jamie placed a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “I should tell you that Richard was wounded. He’s all right. They’ve taken the bullet out.”

  Jacob winced. “Can I see him? Where is he?”

  “In one of the tents.” Jamie motioned toward the camp. “Ye see the one where young Simon is standing?”

  As Jacob strode toward the tents, Caroline rushed to catch up with him. The smell of smoke, sweat and horse dung hovered about the camp. The men, seated about campfires, looked at her with sad, grimy faces.

  More guilt nagged at her. She’d been eating fine meals, sleeping in a real bed, trying to pretend the war was far away, when all along it was so close, with men who fought for freedom in spite of hunger and exhaustion. Men who had lost their homes, their families; men who had nothing left to lose but the dirty rags on their backs.

  “The boy by the tent is so young,” she whispered to Jacob. “Doesn’t he have a home?”

  “No. This is Simon’s home.”

  “You and Richard have become good friends?”

  Jacob nodded. “He’s the only family I have who will admit to it.”

  “You’re related? I thought he was related to Thomas.”

  Jacob groaned. “Simon, can we go in?”

  “Aye.” Simon lifted the flap to the tent and gave Caroline a doubtful look. “Are you sure you want to see this, miss?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Caroline ducked under the flap.

  A mixture of blood and alcohol immediately accosted her sense of smell. It took longer for her eyes to focus in the dim light. Richard lay on a cot. A doctor was bandaging his shoulder. A pile of bloody rags lay on the ground, next to a bucket of blood-tinted water. Thomas wasn’t there.

  “How are you?” Jacob asked his cousin.

  “I’m drunk,” Richard lifted a canteen to his mouth.

  The doctor tied off the bandage. “He’ll be fine as long as a fever doesn’t set in. He was telling me about a local woman named Dottie who makes potions and such.”

  “Yes.” Jacob nodded. “I could bring some medicine.”

  “Good. I think he’ll need it.” The doctor excused himself and left the tent.

  Caroline patted Richard’s hand. “You’ll be fine. We’ll make sure you have all the medicine you need.”

  Richard smiled grimly. “I’m afraid I may miss your wedding.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m just grateful you’re all right.” Caroline straightened. “Has anyone seen Thomas?”

  “Major Thomas?” Simon asked.

  “No, Thomas Haversham.”

  Simon wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know him. But I know a Thomas Barrett and—”

  “Wait.” Caroline held up a hand. “Did you say Major Thomas? Matthias Murray Thomas? Is Jane’s son here?”

  “You could say that.” Richard took a gulp from his canteen, then offered it to her. “You might want some of this.”

  “No thank you.” Caroline tensed as a surge of anger swept through her. “Jane’s son has been here all this time? How could he stay here when his mother was being held prisoner?”

  “He did go home,” Simon declared.

  “When? I didn’t see him.” Caroline planted her fists on her hips. “And where was he when his mother was starving to death? Jacob and Thomas had to save her. How could he let other men rescue his mother?”

  “The wages of sin,” Richard murmured, and helped himself to another swig of rum.

  Simon glared at her. “Major Thomas is a hero.”

  “I be
g to differ.” Caroline lifted her chin. “Where is this Matthias? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “You’ll find Major Thomas outside,” Richard explained. “He wanted to be alone. He blames himself for my injury. And he blames himself for the death of those two men.”

  “Why would he—” Caroline studied Richard, then Jacob. They knew something, she could tell by the way they avoided her eyes. A cold shiver crept into her bones.

  She needed to see Thomas. Now. She threw open the tent flap and marched outside. She scanned the campsite, searching the dirty, scarred faces.

  Her Thomas was here. He had to be. He loved her. And she trusted him. She’d given him her heart.

  “There he is.” Simon followed her outside and pointed in the distance.

  She spotted Thomas Haversham, far away in a grove of trees. His back was to her as he leaned against the trunk of a loblolly pine. The slump of his shoulders spoke of his despair. Poor Thomas. She moved toward him to give him comfort.

  “Major Thomas!” Simon shouted. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Caroline halted. No, don’t turn around. Don’t be a liar. Don’t break my heart.

  He turned.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “Caroline? What are you doing here?” Matthias strode toward her.

  She stepped back, her face pale and stricken.

  What was wrong? He noted Simon’s confused expression. Major Thomas, the boy had called to him. Damn. She knew who he was.

  She backed away, her eyes glistening with tears.

  “Caroline.” He moved toward her. “We need to talk.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t talk to strangers.”

  “We’re hardly strangers.”

  “No?” She lowered her voice. “Tell me, Matthias Murray Thomas, do you normally bed a woman before introducing yourself?”

  He sucked in a breath. “No. You’re the first.”

  “Lucky me.” She pivoted and stalked away.

  He followed her. “I don’t blame you for being angry.”

  She snorted and kept walking.

  “I apologize. I know I should have told you sooner.”

  She swiveled to face him. “Why didn’t you? Why weren’t you honest with me?”

  “I— At first, I wanted to know if your attraction to me was real, that it had nothing to do with wealth.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “You thought I was hunting for a rich husband? Like Agatha? How could you?”

  “I didn’t know you then. How was I to know you could be trusted? You were lying about your identity, too.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I confessed the truth. Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to lose you. You said you wouldn’t involve yourself with a soldier.”

  “So that justifies lying to me?”

  “I was always honest about my feelings.”

  She huffed. “And I’m supposed to trust you on that?”

  “Yes, dammit. I wouldn’t have proposed marriage if I didn’t love you.”

  As a tear coursed down her cheek, a pang of guilt pierced his heart. He had lived with his lie for so long, he had ceased to understand how badly the falsehood would hurt Caroline. How could he convince her he was true when all she could see was a living, human lie?

  Her whispered voice was laced with pain. “You let me call you by the wrong name when we made love.”

  “Thomas is my last name—close enough. I wasn’t offended.”

  Her eyes flashed with emerald fire. “How generous of you. I would certainly hate to offend.”

  Dammit, everything he said was coming out wrong. “Can we put this behind us? Please?”

  “What are you asking? That I forget our relationship was built on a lie?”

  “Our love is not a lie! Caroline, does it really matter? We’re alive, and we love each other.”

  “It matters to me! I trusted you. I trusted you to be honest. And you would have been honest if you trusted me.”

  He tugged at the cravat around his neck. “I’m a wanted man. It was better for you not to know.”

  “Why? Did you think I would turn you in?”

  “Not on purpose, but you did warn me on more than one occasion that you have a loose tongue.”

  She flinched and stepped back. “You have a low opinion of me, Matthias Murray Thomas. And my opinion of you is even lower. Good day.” She pivoted and marched away.

  Virginia sat up in bed. “Caroline, what happened? Dottie told me that you and Jacob left suddenly.”

  Caroline wandered into Dottie’s bedroom off the kitchen. “I learned that Tarleton had set a trap for the partisans. I was afraid for Father, Quincy, and Josiah, but I saw them. They’re alive and well.”

  “And your Thomas? How is he?”

  Caroline blinked away the tears. She’d cried all the way back from Snow’s Island. Now she was determined not to waste another tear on him. “He’s . . . gone.”

  Virginia gasped. “He was killed?”

  “No.” Caroline slumped on the edge of the bed. It felt like he had died. Thomas Haversham was gone, and a stranger named Matthias had taken his place. How could she love a man she didn’t know? “I lost him.”

  Virginia narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “He lied.”

  “Who? Thomas?”

  “He lied to me! He was never a butler.” The baby woke with a cry, and Caroline groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ll get him.” She trudged toward the cradle and lifted the newborn in her arms.

  Virginia loosened the drawstring at her neck. “We always suspected Thomas was more than a butler.”

  “Yes, but I thought he was at least honest about his name.” Caroline cooed to the crying baby, “Sweet little Jamie. You won’t grow up to break a little girl’s heart, will you? You won’t seduce her with lies ’til she’s too blind to see the obvious? You won’t be a scurvy jackass, will you?”

  “Give him to me.” With an exasperated look, Virginia reached for the baby. She settled Jamie at her breast, and his cries ended abruptly. “Now, tell me everything.”

  “What’s to tell?” Caroline collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I was a fool to believe him. After all, he was a miserable excuse for a butler. He was obviously acquainted with members of the militia. And he knew all about the secret passageway.”

  “Secret passageway?”

  Caroline winced. Was Thomas right to worry about her loose tongue? Blast him! He still should have trusted her. She sat up. “I am so vexed with him! I wager he was laughing behind my back all this time.”

  “He always seemed rather serious to me.”

  Caroline’s eyes misted with tears and she shook her head. “I refuse to shed another tear for him. I’ll never see him again.”

  “So it is over?” Virginia frowned. “Have you suddenly forgotten that you love him and agreed to marry him?”

  “This is not my doing! He’s the one who lied. He’s not Thomas Haversham. He’s Matthias Murray Thomas.”

  Virginia gasped. “He’s Jane’s son?”

  “Yes! He’s a blasted major in the army.”

  Virginia’s mouth twitched. “A successful soldier and owner of this plantation. How dreadful. No wonder you have rejected him.”

  “ ’Tis not amusing.”

  “Caroline, he’s a wanted man. I would expect him to protect his identity.”

  “Not to me! Not when we—” Caroline lowered her head into her hands.

  “You feel betrayed?” Virginia whispered.

  “I—I gave him everything. I felt so . . . exposed. Why couldn’t he do the same?”

  “I’m sorry, sweeting. You still love him, don’t you?”

  Caroline wiped a tear from her cheek. “Yes. No. I don??
?t know.”

  “Has he ever said he loves you?”

  Caroline nodded. “Several times.”

  Virginia smiled. “That’s good. I was married to Quincy for months before he could admit that much.”

  Caroline gaped. “You’re in jest. The man was obviously in love with you.”

  “Obvious to everyone but him. And me. You cannot expect a courtship or marriage to sail along without an occasional storm. If you love each other, you will persevere.”

  “But I don’t even know him. I know nothing about Matthias.”

  “Then take the time to get acquainted.” Virginia nudged her sister with her foot. “He’s still the man who loves you. The man who wants to marry you.”

  “You think I was wrong to fuss at him?”

  “Goodness, no. He deserved it.” Virginia switched the baby to her other breast. “He should come crawling on his knees, begging you to forgive him.”

  Caroline sighed. “It feels so strange, thinking about him as Matthias now. I hope he’s as miserable as I.”

  “Hell’s bells, you look miserable.” Richard gazed at him with blurry eyes.

  Next to his cousin’s cot, Matthias perched on the end of a log that served as a makeshift chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk.”

  “They keep filling my canteen with more rum. You want some?” Richard offered the canteen with an unsteady hand.

  Matthias helped himself to a drink. “Do you know one of the men who died had a wife and two children?” He recalled the man he had met on the Pee Dee while looking for Major Munro’s daughters. The children had lost their home because of him, and now, they had lost their father. “I asked him to join the partisans. He’s dead because of me.”

  “You didn’t shoot him.”

  “I might as well have.”

  “Bullshit.” Richard grabbed the canteen. “You’re just wallowing in self-pity. If I wasn’t injured, I’d knock your teeth in.”

  Matt’s mouth fell open. “You’re more drunk than I thought.”

  “You’re more stupid than I thought.”

  Matthias took a deep breath and rose to his feet. “I’d better go. I refuse to clobber an injured man.”