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Samuel cursed again under his breath. “Come, Donaldson.”

Donaldson! He was the one who’d attempted to take Thomas when all of this began. Thomas clenched his fists so hard he winced. This could not be happening.

“What are you going to do?” Nathaniel questioned.

“That man has committed copious crimes for which he must stand trial. Worst of all, he has kidnapped the woman I love, and now he is responsible for her death! Not to mention the fact that he killed another man who tried to help her escape him. What am I going to do? I plan to find him. Then kill him.”

The door opened again, letting in a stream of cold night air that scraped its way up Thomas’s body. How in the world could he possibly know about what happened? And what’s worse, he thinks I killed her! His hands trembled and he pressed his teeth together until his jaw ached.

The other sailor.

Nathaniel ushered the soldiers out of the room, bidding them goodnight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

As Samuel and Donaldson prodded out of the house, Thomas could hear his enemy speaking loud and coarse to his companion. Soon their voices trailed away as they walked down the street, most likely toward Newcomb Tavern.

Thomas’s mind whirled, ferocious as a late-summer gale. How long would they be in town? How in heaven’s name would he get safely home to the girls? They couldn’t be left alone for a second.

The lock clicked in place and Nathaniel’s steps beat against the floor as he stomped back to the study. Only then did Thomas ease out of his hiding space, realizing for the first time how tense his muscles were.

“How in the world could he know all of that? And to think that I—” The words tasted so bitter he couldn’t speak them. “Could this get any worse?”

Nathaniel shook his head and looked in the direction of the door. His jaw ticked. “I don’t honestly think it can. I have a feeling you’ll have to find a way to enjoy that house of yours. You won’t be leaving it for quite some time. Not until those two have left town. And even then . . .”

Thomas whirled toward the fire, his emotions scorching any bits of reason left within him. He turned to his friend, blinding anger pummeling him. “Why did you have to say she died? Why did you have to identify her so perfectly?”

Nathaniel stood taller and stepped toward Thomas, slamming the candle on the desk. “I was put on the spot. What would you have me say?” He walked to the large chair behind his desk and sat with a disgruntled humph. He threw his hands in the air. “If I had to do it over again, I would probably say something different, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

Thomas disposed an ounce of his misplaced indignation and redirected it at a more appropriate recipient. Samuel. “He will not stop until he’s found me.”

Both men remained mute, absorbed by the towering obstacle. Nathaniel’s tapping foot against the hard floor matched the rhythm of Thomas’s own nervous shuffling across the length of the study.

“While there are soldiers in town you’ll not be able to leave your house.”

“We’ve established that,” Thomas said over his shoulder.

“Since you haven’t been in town regularly anyway that won’t be much of a problem. However, I suggest making your situation appear as far from the truth as possible—just in case people start asking questions.”

A spark of something flashed across Nathaniel’s eyes. Thomas grumbled. His friend was about to say something that would shock him.

“What is it, Nathaniel?”

“You need to allow people to think you are married to Eliza.”

The impact of Nathaniel’s statement produced the same effect as if he’d been shoved. “Pardon me? How in the world would that make any bit of difference?”

Nathaniel tried to pull down a mischievous smile that tugged on his lips. “Well, that way if anyone asks questions about ‘that man in the house at the edge of town’ I will have some substantial story to tell them. You’re newly married and your wife is recovering from a miscarriage or something so you are at her side day and night. I won’t use your real names, of course. That way you can eliminate any scrutiny that you might otherwise have to endure. The soldiers will be looking for someone who is unmarried. People in town will believe anything I tell them. I see everyone, I know everything.”

Thomas closed his eyes. Ridiculous. But, perhaps his friend had a point.

“I hate to willfully spread lies.” Thomas thought for another moment then laughed with a sliver of acquiescence. “Though the risk is too great otherwise. I suppose you’re right.”

Beaming, Nathaniel sat straighter. “Of course I’m right.” He rose from his chair, glowing with self-satisfaction and came toward Thomas. “All you have to do now is find a way to tell the ladies.”

Thomas lowered his head and peered ruefully into the radiating embers.

Nathaniel laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I can see that you carry the responsibility very heavily, Thomas. None of this is your fault.”

“I have to keep my distance from Eliza—and Kitty—for their own good. The sooner they can get back to Boston, the better.”

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