Midnight

  It came time for him to leave, and as he gathered up his overcoat and gun, her father said, “Faith, why don’t you send him back with some of the leftover food?”

  She nodded and in the kitchen put helpings of everything into a small crock and returned. When she handed it to him he thanked her.

  “I promise to return it,” he pledged. “In hopes that you will fill it again.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed my cooking.”

  “Faith, why don’t you walk him out to his mount? We wouldn’t want him to get lost in the dark.”

  She gave her father a look and wondered if he was purposefully trying to put her in a compromising position. A single woman wasn’t encouraged to walk in the dark with a man not of her family. It wasn’t done.

  As if reading her mind, he waved a hand. “Go on ahead. I’m not going to force Giles to marry you.”

  She wanted to sink into the floorboards at his jest. Instead she said to the amused soldier, “Are you ready?”

  “I am.”

  Outside in the brisk night air, Faith pulled her shawl closer. “My apologies. My father is determined I find a husband, which is why he spent the evening throwing me at you like oysters to a hog.”

  He chuckled. “None needed.” Looking down at her in the moonlight, he was silent for a few moments. “You’re a very unconventional woman, Miss Kingston.”

  “Too unconventional some might say.”

  “I’d have to agree. No offense, but I want the woman I marry to be traditional.”

  “I’m not offended.”

  “But I must admit, having met you has made me rethink some things.”

  “Then the evening was a success.”

  “Your father will not think so.”

  “He’s accustomed to being disappointed, believe me.”

  She saw his smile.

  He said genuinely, “I would like to visit you again, if I’m allowed to ask for such a boon.”

  Faith decided she liked him. “You are, and I’m sure you’ll get no argument from Father.”

  “I had a nice time, and thanks for the food.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He mounted his horse. “Good evening, Miss Kingston.”

  “Good-bye, Lieutenant Giles.”

  “Will you call me Henri?”

  “If you will call me Faith.”

  He nodded.

  She smiled.

  He rode away.

  When she stepped back inside her father was watching her eagerly, so Faith said, “I’m not for him. He said he wants a more traditional woman.”

  His face deflated.

  “However, he would like to visit us again, and I told him it would be all right.”

  “Then there is hope,” he told her while yawning tiredly. He pulled out his timepiece. “Had no idea it was so late. Think I’ll retire. Will you lock up?”

  “Yes.”

  “See you in the morning.”

  “Pleasant dreams.”

  As he went upstairs she wondered how the courting was faring but since she knew better than to ask, she set aside the curiosity because she had a more pressing issue to contemplate. The Sons of Liberty needed to be told about what Henri had innocently revealed. John Hancock was one of the wealthiest men in the colony and a leader of the rebellion. His arrest would put quite a feather in General Gage’s cap. Hancock in chains would devastate morale, and maybe make the farmers and merchants supporting the movement rethink their allegiances, because if a man as well-to-do and moneyed as Hancock could be tarred with the treason brush, what chance had they?

  She locked up, doused the lamps, and went to her room. Entering it, she continued the inner debate. Of course it was possible that the Sons had already ferreted out Gage’s plans to arrest Hancock, but what if they hadn’t? Either way she had to pass the news on, and therein lay the stumbling block. With Blythe leaving for New York in the morning, and Charity nursing a sick infant, she had to go to Nicholas. She did not want to see him, not as herself and certainly not as Lady Midnight, but to do nothing could enable the British to strike a killing blow that might stamp out the rebels and their cause for some time to come.

  Her decision made, she walked to her bed and lifted the thin mattress where the widow’s weeds she used in her disguise lay hidden, and began to dress.

  It was just past midnight when Faith eased open the shutters and climbed down to the soft earth below. Unfortunately the moon could be seen through the clouds sliding past it, but her hope was that the cold, windy night would become cloudier. Crossing an open field in full moonlight would cast her shadow all the way to Boston.

  Taking in a breath to buoy her courage, she set out for the Grey family home. With the increased British patrols, she didn’t dare risk taking the road, but it was necessary that she cross it, however, because Nick lived on the opposite side. Accomplishing that quickly, she used the cover of the thick growth of pines to mask her passage. That he lived less than thirty minutes away stood in her favor, and was also one of the reasons she and Primus had been able to communicate so quickly and so well. In order for Primus to get to his shop in Boston he’d had to drive past the inn, so he knew to look for their mutually agreed upon signals that indicated she had information to pass. Sometimes it was the churn she left by the side of the house, others the way she hung the pillow slips and quilts outside on the clothesline to dry on wash day.

  Now, however, she was on her way to see his mesmerizing son.

  The moon turned out to be a help rather than a hindrance. As she crunched her way through the thin coat of snow, the faint light guided her journey through the forest’s maze. In truth, the silence and the moon on the snow would have made for a beautiful night were it not for the cold wind snatching at the hem of her gray cape. She was glad she’d worn it. With the hood up she looked like nothing more than a passing shadow. More importantly, she was warm.

  She exited the trees and paused. Ahead lay the cleared farmland owned by the Potts family. Faith wondered if Eva was still steaming over the set-down Nicholas had given her at his reception. She took a quick look up at the house. Seeing no lights, she did another quick survey of the fields, and after seeing nothing to impede her, made a dash for the trees on the other side. Once there, she set off again. She repeated the dash three more times, the final one being onto Grey’s land.

  Standing in the trees she ran her eyes over the house. There was a small light in one of the rooms upstairs. Before she could lose her nerve she made her way over to the house and knocked at the back door. After a few moments, she stepped back to keep him from seeing her clearly. Hoping it was far enough away, she lowered the veil over her face, held the edges of her cloak closely, and waited for him to appear.

  The door opened and there he stood with a candle boat in his hand. She shrank back from the light and demanded in a harsh whisper that cloaked her true voice, “Douse the light or we’ll both hang!”

  For a second Nicholas stared frozen, then blew out the flame. Was this she? He couldn’t make out the facial features, but the person was bent over like a crone. “And you are?”

  “Your father knew me as Lady Midnight. Alert Hancock that his arrest is imminent.” And she turned to leave.

  “Wait!”

  She stopped but didn’t face him.

  “Do you know who betrayed Primus?”

  At first he wasn’t sure she’d respond, but finally she whispered, “No,” and walked away. The wind whipped at him as he stood watching. When she was far enough away to melt back into the night, he closed the door.

  He stood there for a long moment thinking. He’d finally gotten a look at the elusive Lady Midnight. In reality it hadn’t been much of one, but he was pleased to have finally laid eyes on her. The news about Hancock was disturbing. It meant the British were after the head of the snake. He wasn’t sure if the move was out of strength or desperation, but either way, the Sons needed to know. To facilitate that, he drew on his cloak, walked o
utside and across the road to wake up Arte.

  It took only a few knocks to rouse his friend.

  Candle in hand, Arte opened the door. “Nicholas?” he asked in sleepy surprise.

  “Sorry for the intrusion, but I need to speak with you. This can’t wait until morning.”

  Arte backed up a few steps to let him enter.

  Nick kept his voice low. “Hancock’s going to be arrested.”

  Arte eyes widened. “How do you know?”

  “My father’s Lady paid me a visit a few moments ago.”

  “Really? Did she say anything else?”

  “Other than denying any knowledge of who betrayed Primus, no. After that she left me.”

  Arte met his eyes. “All right. I’ll pass this on. Bekkah’s going to tar me for having to ride out now, but as you said, this can’t wait until morning.”

  Nick nodded.

  “Thanks again, friend.”

  Nick left and returned to his bedroom to ponder the appearance of the Lady. Standing before the fire to warm the chill of outside, he noted that it had been impossible to see her face through the shroud of thick lace. Her hunched carriage gave her the impression of advanced age, but would an elderly woman really be skulking about in the middle of the night, considering the weather and all the possible dangers posed by both man and beast? He supposed it depended upon the fervor of the person involved, but if tonight’s visit was any indication, his father’s spy was very fervent.

  However, none of this revealed her identity. He couldn’t even be certain that she was a female. In the morning he planned to check the snow for tracks. He might be able to determine which direction she’d taken and maybe more. He had to admit that her appearance had infused him with a measure of excitement because now he felt one step closer to answers. He was supposed to drill with Hall and the men in the morning, so he’d pass along the information about Hancock at that time. A message from Dom a few days ago had informed him that the guns would be arriving soon. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 11

  Faith awakened the following morning before dawn. She hadn’t slept well. In the back of her mind floated images of dreams that were far too fleeting to grasp, but were still oddly disturbing. From outside, the combined sounds of pelting rain and high-pitched winds rattling the shutters let her know the weather was foul. This was the time of year when the spring rains came to battle winter for supremacy, resulting in cold, raw, wet weather that kept people inside their homes.

  She left the bed. The dark room was freezing. Shivering, she stuck the fire iron into the embers in her fireplace to free the few still-burning coals from beneath the ash, and added more kindling. Tending the small blaze until it could be left on its own, she crawled back beneath the quilts to wait for the room to warm.

  She wondered if last night’s meeting with Nicholas was the reason she’d had such a fitful night. He hadn’t recognized her, of that she was certain, and she’d obscured her tracks in the snow to keep him from following her steps. It was a trick she’d learned as a child while playing hide-and-seek in the snowy forest with Ingram and the other children. Who knew she’d grow up and need such a thing, she thought as she watched the fire grow.

  While the sleet and rain continued to batter the house and the wind rose and fell, she listened for sounds of her father moving around upstairs. Hearing only silence, she thought back on his disturbing news about their finances, and set her mind to thinking how she might help so he wouldn’t have to sell. The inn hadn’t been busy in weeks so taking in laundry was an option. The British soldiers were always in need of clean uniforms so there was a ready need. She could ask Henri Giles to help spread the word of her service, which might ensure a steady number of customers, and with spring about to arrive, she’d be able to hang the clothes outside on the lines to dry.

  Being a laundress was backbreaking work, not to mention the effects of the lye on the skin. However, if that was what she had to do in order to keep herself in her home, she’d gladly do so. Her other option was to sell bread, and that too came with a ready market among the soldiers. The barracks were full of hungry men. Everyone knew the Kingstons were good Tories so her patronizing the troops wouldn’t be out of the question or draw suspicion, but more importantly, both business ideas would offer new avenues for spying on the British.

  The only problem was obtaining the funds she’d need to get her enterprise started. If she decided to take in laundry she’d need larger pots and a stock of lye. If she chose to sell bread, there’d be dry ingredients to purchase, and with the British blockading the harbor, necessities like flour had risen in price. She’d also have to purchase many more Dutch ovens in order to make enough loaves to bring in a profit. She knew that no banker would loan her the money without any collateral, so that left her father. It was not a conversation she was looking forward to, but she hoped if she presented the idea logically, he’d see the potential and loan her some of their remaining funds.

  The room finally warmed enough for her to move around, so she carefully removed from the fire the basin of water she’d warmed up for washing, and began her morning.

  His breakfast done, Nicholas looked out at the foul weather from the window in his bedroom. By now the heavy spring rains had washed away any tracks Lady Midnight might have left behind, so he would have to concede her this round, and he didn’t like it. He’d have to wait for her to surface again, but there was no guarantee that she would. There’d be no drilling today either so he’d spend the day gathering the remainder of his father’s things so they could be donated to charity.

  Faith was in the kitchen getting breakfast ready when her father entered. “Good morning, Father. Did you sleep well?”

  “I did, and yourself?”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  “Will Case will be joining us for breakfast.”

  Faith went still.

  “And so that you know, he’s made an offer for the inn. Price is fair and reasonable.”

  “No!” she cried out in protest. “Father, let me try and help us first. If you would loan me a portion of whatever is left of Mother’s moneys, I’ll sell bread. Everyone says how fine it is, and I think I could sell to a steady clientele of soldiers.”

  He barked a laugh. “What?”

  Feeling desperate, Faith walked over to where he stood, “Father, listen. I’ll need to secure more flour and meal, and I’ll bake from sunup to sundown to put us above water again if need be, but please, let me try.”

  He looked at her as if she were someone he’d never seen before. “You want me to make you a loan to sell bread?”

  “Yes. Think about it. If I work hard I can do this.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “No. Will’s offered me a fair price and the contracts will be signed. And because you’ll be in need of a home, I’m giving him your hand in marriage, which as your father is my right.”

  Her eyes went large. “I will not be his wife!”

  “You have no choice!”

  “I will not be his wife!” she repeated forcefully.

  “Elizabeth does not want you in our new home!”

  She froze. “What? Elizabeth who!”

  “Elizabeth Sutter.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears.

  “We’ll be getting married in two weeks’ time.”

  Faith was speechless. There were so many conflicting emotions streaking across her mind, she couldn’t have spoken had she desired to. She now knew why he’d kept Elizabeth’s name a secret. Faith would have never approved of him courting the vain and questionably chaste seventeen-year-old.

  “I want more children, Faith—a woman who’ll care for me in my old age, and Elizabeth offers me that.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “No, but she’s young and beautiful and will grace my table.”

  “So I am to marry Will so that you may take your new bride?” she asked, outraged.

  “You make
it sound so harsh.”

  Faith looked away, her lips pressed. When she thought she could speak calmly, she faced him again and said emotionlessly, “I wish you and Elizabeth every happiness but I will not marry Will Case.”

  That said, she turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and countered angrily, “You will do as I say.”

  She looked down at his hand and then up at his face. “You would sell me like a barrel of cod so that you can get between Elizabeth’s thighs?”

  He slapped her and she tumbled to the floor.

  “How dare you speak to me that way! You will honor my offer to Will, or you will leave this house immediately, you ungrateful child!”

  Faith got to her feet. She had been disrespectful, but she was not going to be sold like a slave or a mindless beast. “I’ll get my things.”

  “You leave here with nothing! The clothes on your back is all I’ll allow!”

  She stopped at the doorway and looked back. She had never seen him so angry, but she was angrier. She also realized that he didn’t believe she’d leave. He appeared certain that his ultimatum would scare her so badly that she’d surrender and stay, and that increased her anger. Without another word, she turned on her heel, exited the kitchen, and headed for the front door. When she snatched it open, the force of the wind and rain almost snatched it back.