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Authors: Louise M. Gouge

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Religious

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Chapter Twelve

T
he message, informally scrawled on foolscap, held helpful information, some of which General Washington might already know. The King’s 60th Regiment of Foot, which the general might well have fought alongside during the French and Indian War, had been serving in the West Indies in the ensuing years. Now they would be removed to East Florida and serve under Colonel Thomas Browne, a colonial from Georgia who’d suffered at the hands of Patriots for his loyalty to the king.

Jamie chafed at not being able to get this vital information to Washington as soon as possible. But until his ship was seaworthy, he must remain in England. He and Quince often reminded each other that they were doing what they’d been sent to do, and must trust God to open opportunities where He willed. After copying the missive in the early morning hours, Jamie left it to Quince to slip back to the library with the stealth of his Shawnee grandfather and replace it in the desk. Now that they knew where information was to be had, they would check often. In the meantime, boredom often set in for both men.

Although Quince had worked his own farm in Massachusetts, with leisure times only in the dead of winter, Jamie was more used to long stretches of inactivity while his ship sailed from port to port. After crew drills and other exercises, he filled his time by reading the Scriptures or lighter fare, and keeping busy about the vessel. But most of these aristocrats seemed to have honed their skills at indolence. While they found contentment in sleeping half the day, visiting and gossiping with one another, and attending parties and balls, Jamie’s hands ached to work. He feared that by the time the
Fair Winds’
hull and mast were repaired, his hard-earned calluses would be worn away.

He managed to spend some of his time traveling to various suppliers and arranging the goods he would take back to East Florida. In addition to household goods and luxuries for the wealthy, the plantation owners needed metalworks to build their own foundries now that they could not do business with the northern colonies. Jamie could supply some of their needs, such as the Swedish bar iron on order from Birmingham. The
Fair Winds
was being reinforced even now to carry the heavier cargo. But it would take many more ships and many more trips between the continents to import everything the burgeoning colony required to be self-sufficient.

Sometimes his divided interests wore him down, especially since he seemed not to be able to get back into Bennington’s library alone. The earl had invited him to read any of the countless leather-bound books that lined two walls floor to ceiling. But when Jamie did so, Moberly or Miss Kendall or Marianne or the ever-present Reverend Bentley would also be reading there. Many evenings during supper Bennington would mention progress in the war against the colonists. But Jamie could not detect anything further regard
ing the Crown’s plans for defending East Florida, or any helpful information about troop action in the northern colonies.

At least Marianne seemed to have reconciled herself to the impossibility of their going beyond friendship, for she no longer cast wistful glances in his direction, glances that cut into his soul and distracted him. In fact, her cheerful disposition had brightened the entire household these past weeks. For his own part, after those brief sweet kisses the night of the ball, he felt something settle in his own heart. To know such pure and tender love, though denied its fulfillment, was still a gift from the Lord. Jamie would treasure the remaining time with Marianne and thank God for every moment they spent together, however formally they must conduct themselves.

“How do you stand for it, my friend?” Quince folded Jamie’s new gray jacket and placed it in a trunk. “If anybody told me Emma and I couldn’t marry, we’d elope in the middle of the night.”

“That’s exactly what I’d expect of you, and I’d not fault you for it.” Jamie stared out the window into the bright May sunshine. “But can’t you hear me telling Bennington ‘by the by, old man, in addition to my using our partnership to spy on you, I’m also stealing your daughter’?” He looked down on two servants sweeping the back terrace, and envied their industriousness…and the simplicity of their lives. “If spying on the man strains my sense of honor, elopement would destroy it altogether.”

Quince grimaced. “Under the circumstances, it would be reprehensible, wouldn’t it?” He brought another jacket from the wardrobe. “Are you going to help me with this?”

“You’re the valet, not I.” Jamie crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I think you’ve found your calling, my friend.”

Quince glared at him, but there was mischief in his grin. “Shall I dump it all on the floor and let you pack for yourself?”

“Now, now. Let’s not take offense.” Jamie crossed the room and began to carry items from the wardrobe to the trunk. “I must say, I never expected to own so many clothes, nor such fine ones. Have Ian or Greyson told you what I’ll need for country living?” Jamie laughed at his own words. “Lord, what’ve You brought me to? An orphaned boy and lowly whaler playing with the aristocracy.”

Quince clapped him on the shoulder. “And you play the part well, Cap’n Jamie.” He surveyed the growing stash of clothes. “Yes, we should take all of it. Ian says the family’s months at the country manor are filled with even more activities than their season in the city.”

“I suppose it depends on what you consider ‘activities.’ Other than their frivolous nonsense, they don’t seem too full of activity,” Jamie said. “I’ll arrange with Moberly to have horses available for us to return to the city and see to the
Fair Winds.
When I was at Southwark yesterday, she looked well on her way to being mended. They can step up the mast in another month and start the rigging. What’s our old friend François said about the arrival of the muskets?”

Quince snorted. “Who could have guessed that arrogant fellow hates the English so much? When he brought the gray jacket yesterday, he told me his sources require anonymity. But he also said his latest news from France indicates some important people are backing our Revolution. Of course, young Louis will want us to succeed if only to needle the English…and repel their interests on the Continent.”

“That kind of help will be a blessing indeed. But what about the weapons?”

“We’ll have the details of where to get them by the time the ship’s ready to sail.”

Jamie felt a sense of reprieve. Once he had the Spanish muskets, he might not be able to return to Lord Bennington’s hospitality. And he was not yet ready to say goodbye to Marianne.

 

Seated in the family carriage with Mama and Grace, Marianne watched the passing scenery of the Surrey countryside with a mix of joy and sorrow. She longed to return to Hampshire and Bennington Park, for she preferred the country over the city. But she had no doubt this would be the last time she ever visited her childhood home. With this in mind, she treasured each sight, each fragrance, each moment with Mama and Robert.

With Robert especially. Her dear brother seemed a different man since Jamie had convinced him to trust in God’s mercy. He confided his lack of confidence in approaching Papa regarding service in the church, but he did spend many hours with Grace. Marianne could see them growing closer, could see Robert growing in his faith. And while he said nothing more about her relationship with Jamie, he did his best to arrange times when the four of them could be together. Perhaps Mama sensed a romance for Robert, too, for she granted Grace an unusual amount of freedom.

On May Day, they had at last enjoyed their picnic at Richmond Park. What a lark it had been to spread out linen tablecloths on the green grass and enjoy cold chicken, salad, hothouse strawberries, and cakes, and to greet their many friends. With the social season soon to end, everyone seemed eager to gather as often as possible, and the next two weeks had seen a flurry of parties and balls, few of which
members of Bennington’s household attended. Marianne found she did not miss the events in the slightest.

Now, as the end of May neared, the closed carriage wended its way home through the pine forests that shrouded the Portsmouth Road, while Robert and Jamie rode alongside, their guns and swords at the ready in case highwaymen dared to attack. Papa would join the family as soon as Parliament adjourned.

Marianne experienced several moments of guilt over being glad for her father’s absence from the family circle. Without pressing duties to king and country, he often bore down a bit harder on his family and might notice how often she and Jamie were together. She must find ways to avoid his scrutiny. Glancing out of the window, she watched Jamie riding beside Robert. Pride filled her over how well he had learned to manage Puck, and even seemed to have formed a friendship with the frisky horse.

As she watched, Robert reined his Gallant near Jamie. “Can I interest you in a race to Portsdown Hill?” He pointed with his riding crop. Marianne could hear her brother’s teasing tone.

“Oh, Robert, do not—” She started to put her head out through the open window.

“Now, now, my dear.” Mama touched her arm. “Do let the men have their fun. Moberly is the picture of health these days, and I’ll warrant Captain Templeton has learned to stay astride by now.”

As the thunder of racing hooves met her ears, Marianne’s heart dipped to her stomach. She glanced between Mama and Grace, and her face grew hot. Mama’s mild expression revealed no deeper meaning beyond what her words conveyed. But Mama could surprise a person, and Marianne knew better than to assume anything. If she were twelve
years old again, she would confess everything and cast herself upon Mama’s mercy. But to do so would destroy everything. No, if Marianne planned to follow Jamie to East Florida, it must be without Mama’s knowledge, for she would never approve of such a scheme. She had been heartbroken when Papa sent Frederick to the colony, and she would be devastated when Marianne left.

With a soft laugh that she feared sounded more giddy than casual, Marianne conceded Mama’s assertion. “Yes, Robert has never been healthier…or happier.” From the corner of her eye, she could see Grace’s pink cheeks. “And I suppose the captain’s riding has improved. But tell me, Mama, what plans have you made for our entertainment these next months?”

Mama’s eyes lit up. “The viscount has accepted our invitation to summer at the Park. He and Lady Mary are bringing the children, so we may expect some lively games every day.”

“How grand. I shall be delighted to see my nephew and nieces.” Marianne’s oldest brother, William, and his viscountess, Mary, were a bit stuffy, but their children made up for it with merry antics that amused the entire household.

“And you, my darling.” Mama’s eyebrows rose. “What are your plans?”

Marianne started. “My plans? What do you mean?”

Mama blinked. “Why, do you plan to have your usual parties for the village children? The sweetmeats for them after church each Sunday?” Again, her expression betrayed nothing.

And again, Marianne’s laugh sounded a bit giddy in her own ears. “Oh, yes, of course. I would not wish to disappoint the children.”
This will be the last summer I see them.
The thought made her heart ache. “And I’m looking forward to our traditional garden party in June.”

“Ah, yes. The highlight of our summer.”

The carriage emerged from the forest and slowed, soon to be surrounded by a flock of fluffy, bleating sheep.

Marianne waved her fan. “Ah, yes, the distinctive sounds and smells of Surrey.”

Mama smiled but also tilted her head in a chiding fashion, for she felt that ladies should never complain. “But can you not also smell the rich fragrance of the earth? See how green the grass and trees are.” She waved a gloved hand toward the window, which framed a view of Surrey’s verdant hills. “Ah, how I look forward to working with my roses once again. And once Bennington comes home, summer will truly begin for me.” Her eyes shone with anticipation. Mama always presented a picture of grace, but summers in the country brought out her very best.

Marianne forced a responding smile, but felt it waver, so she stared out of the window at the landscape. No doubt Jamie and Robert had completed their race and awaited the ladies at the top of Portsdown Hill, where they would disembark from the carriage to take in the view before making their descent. Crossing from Surrey into Hampshire was Marianne’s favorite part of the ten-hour trip from London each spring. After months away from Bennington Park, she never failed to be awestruck over the beauty of God’s creation visible in the vast panorama laid out before her. But this year, she felt only heartache. How could she leave it all behind?

Chapter Thirteen

I
f the invigorating race up Portsdown Hill wasn’t enough to make Jamie breathless, once he and Puck reached the crest at Devil’s Cleft, the spectacular scenery of the green, rolling hills of Hampshire viewed from this nearly five-hundred-foot elevation caused him to inhale in wonder. Then, with the intake of air, the familiar scent of the ocean met him, causing a painful ache in his chest. To his left lay Portsmouth, where the Royal Navy’s vast fleet lay anchored. The sight was so impressive he could not help but question how the colonies’ few ships would have any success against them.

A few miles beyond lay Southampton, where merchant vessels docked. The sight of countless vessels in both ports made him long for the
Fair Winds,
made him long to sail across the wide Atlantic toward home, where he could take a more active part in the Revolution. Perhaps he would offer to have his sloop more heavily armed for use in the war, for with his present defenses the smallest British man-of-war could sink him. But those thoughts were for another time. Right now, the splendor of the setting before him served as
a reminder of all the beauties in England claiming a large portion of his affection.

“I say, old man.” Moberly, equally breathless, reached the summit and reined his Gallant beside Jamie’s Puck. “’Tis not wise to run a horse up such a hill.”

Jumping down from his heaving, sweating mount, Jamie cringed. “Bad form on my part. I should have realized…” As captain of his own ship, he knew when to ease up on his crew. How foolish not to grasp the needs of this magnificent animal.

Moberly dismounted and came to check Puck’s eyes and legs. “There, boy, you’re all right. Never mind, Templeton. No harm done. I’m the one at fault. Should have warned you. Old Puck likes to run full out, but he’s not always smart about hills and such. Do not give it another thought.” He nodded toward their right. “Bennington Park, over there.”

Only a little relieved by his words, Jamie followed Moberly’s gaze toward a vast manor house in the distance, set on a lesser hill but nonetheless imposing. Once again, wonder stole his breath. So this was where Marianne grew up, where she became the genuine soul he loved so dearly. Even London’s snobbish, irreverent society could not damage the purity of her character. In this place, Jamie would be hard put not to abandon all his resolve to maintain his emotional distance from her. But of course he must.

Rolling, grass-covered hills stretched before them to the north and east, with occasional rock and chalk outbreaks jutting to the surface. In the distance, countless sheep appeared as white dots on a carpet of green. At the sight of it all, peace swept through Jamie, and an assurance that all would be well.

The black-red-and-gold Bennington coach lumbered up
beside them and stopped, its four horses echoing Puck’s labored breathing. Wiggins, the driver, set the brake, and three footmen descended from the top.

“Lady Bennington.” John the footman approached the coach door. “Will you walk down the hill today?”

The lady appeared in the window. “Yes, John. Thank you.”

The footmen assisted the ladies from the conveyance, and Jamie and Moberly joined them. His senses already heightened by the race and spectacular view, Jamie felt a mad impulse to claim the right to escort Marianne down the steep incline ahead of them. Before he could put the plan into effect, Lady Bennington smiled up at him from beneath her broad-brimmed hat.

“Captain Templeton, may I take your arm?”

“It will be my honor, my lady.” Indeed, it would. And he felt more relief than disappointment over not accompanying Marianne. Surely the Lord had intervened to keep him from a situation in which he might be tempted to say too much. Furthermore, in his two months as a guest in Lady Bennington’s home, he had yet to have a private conversation with this kind, elegant woman.

Taking particular care to guide the lady to the smoothest parts of the rutted road angling down the hill, Jamie permitted himself to relax. He felt certain that manners dictated he should wait for her to address him, but words of praise for the landscape before them burned inside him.

“What a lovely day for travel.” Lady Bennington spoke his very thoughts. “Tell me, Captain, what do you think of our Hampshire countryside?” Only a hint of pride edged her tone, and her face beamed. Without doubt, Marianne’s gentle nature and flawless grace came from her mother, as did her beauty.

“Very fine country, indeed, madam.”

She glanced up at him with eyes as blue as Marianne’s. “Tell me about your home. Nantucket, I mean.”

Jamie drew her off the road while the coach rumbled past. Two of the footmen walked beside the lead horses and held their harnesses, while Wiggins kept a hand on the brake. Dust flurried about them, and Lady Bennington brought up her fan to wave it away. Once the coach had passed them, they resumed their walk.

“Nantucket is a fine piece of land. Though it is more sand than grass, it still provides sufficient pasture for our sheep.” He nodded toward the grazing flocks in the distance, and an unexpected thread of homesickness wove through his heart. His beloved sister still resided on the island of their birth. Now that the British navy had impressed most of the Nantucket whalers into English service, Jamie feared Dinah and his childhood friends would suffer terribly despite their neutrality toward the war. But he would not mention such unpleasantness to Lady Bennington. “The Quakers who settled the island in the last century have bequeathed it a legacy of faith.”

“Ah, yes. The Quakers.” Lady Bennington continued to wave her fan. “I have known several fine Christians who are Friends.” She glanced at his brown riding clothes, complete with brass buckles and buttons. “May I assume you are not of that persuasion?”

“No, ma’am.” Jamie’s heart warmed. If the discussion was to be about his faith, he would gladly tell her everything. “While I respect their interest in seeking an inner light for spiritual guidance, I endeavor to depend upon Scripture to guide me, lest my heart mislead me.” His own words reminded him that only in Scripture would he find strength for the days ahead.

“Ah, very good.” Her smile was placid. “I noticed your enjoyment of the services at St. Paul’s. I hope you will equally enjoy Reverend Bentley’s sermons at Bennington Park.”

Jamie stepped over a slight dip in the road. “The good reverend has been most helpful in guiding me through the complexities of the social graces.” He wanted to laugh, thinking of how his crew would mock his fancy new manners on their return voyage. “I’m certain he will prove equally proficient in his pastoral duties.”

“You will not be disappointed.” Lady Bennington peered over her shoulder, and he followed her gaze. Several yards back, Robert escorted the other ladies, while John the footman walked at the rear, leading Gallant and Puck. John’s diligent perusal of the surrounding landscape was no doubt meant to check for any highwaymen who might be lurking nearby.

“And now you must tell me about East Florida.” Lady Bennington’s eyebrows lifted, as though her words held more than a surface meaning.

“’Tis quite a wilderness, madam, though not totally uninhabitable.” Jamie turned away with a grimace. These were not soothing words for her. “But you may be very proud of your son, for he is proving to be an excellent force for good in St. Johns Towne.”

“Indeed?” A tiny catch marred her melodious voice.

Her maternal tenderness brought a twinge to his chest, and he wondered how it would have been to grow up under his own dear mother’s care. “Indeed, my lady. Under Frederick Moberly’s watch, civilization spreads deep into the land. His father’s plantation prospers under his management, and all of the people along the St. Johns River, whether plantation owner, merchant, slave or indentured servant, find him the most just of magistrates.”

Moisture rimmed her eyes even as she smiled. “Yes, Frederick has always been diligent in his duties and fair to those under his care.”

Ahead, at the bottom of the hill, the coach awaited them, but Jamie felt a strong impulse to tell her more. “My lady, please permit me a kinsman’s pride over the good woman your son has married.”

She gasped softly. “Why, yes, Bennington told me she is your cousin.” Her smile grew radiant, and her face a lovely older version of Marianne’s. “That makes us related by marriage. Dear Captain Templeton.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “If your cousin Rachel is anything like you—”

“My lady,” Wiggins called from atop the coach. “Will you ride now?”

Jamie assisted Lady Bennington back into the coach, and the rest of the party all clambered back to their earlier places to resume the journey to Bennington Park. But as Jamie remounted Puck and urged him to follow the others, he felt an odd confusion stirring within him. Was it merely wishful thinking, or had Lady Bennington been interrupted just as she was about to bestow her approval upon him?

 

As they continued toward Bennington Park, Marianne could barely keep from squirming on the coach’s red velvet seat like an ill-mannered schoolgirl. Questions and speculations scurried through her mind as she wondered what Mama had said to Jamie. Of course, Marianne could never ask Mama, but their little visit must have been pleasant, for when Jamie assisted Mama into the coach, they exchanged earnest pleasantries emphasized by sincere smiles. At the first opportunity, she must try to ferret out the information from Jamie.

Calming herself so as not to draw Mama’s scrutiny, Marianne turned her thoughts toward Bennington Park. Unlike some of her friends, she found life to be much more engaging and enjoyable in the country than in the city. In anticipation of a last summer of gaiety, she longed to stick her head out and see the manor house as they approached it. The most she could do was lean close to the window as the coach hastened along the winding, tree-lined lane as if the horses and driver were as eager as she to be home again. Familiar woodlands, gently sloping downs, the private lake, and the village beyond the manor house all beckoned to her.

At last the coach broke from the last stand of trees and the gray stone mansion appeared in all its beauty. Marianne’s heart jolted as never before. Home, if only for a few more months. And she had much to see, much to cherish before she said goodbye to it all forever.

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