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The brisk air, the crystal sky, and the sudden freedom pressed her onward. She leaned forward with the rhythmic up and down of her mount’s strong neck, torn at the thought of leaving Eaton Hill for good. How could she do it? ’Twas her home. Yet how could she endure the presence of Joseph day after day, knowing he hadn’t wanted her before—and still did not—when her traitorous heart wanted him more with every passing moment?
She welcomed the biting breeze on her cheeks. Nay, she did right. Caroline would help her see sense, clear her head and heart of him.
At least, the hope of him.
* * *
Joseph hadn’t slept. Only tossed and turned atop his feather tick, but naught more. That blissful ignorance a restful night afforded was not to be had. Not when Hannah’s sudden change and mournful confession kept his eyes wide and back stiff.
He left his room to find her door closed, as it had been last night. His chest tightened. Not wanting to actually believe this morning was a repeat of before, he went first to the kitchen, where his concern was not eased but incited. On the table sat a cloth-draped basket of yesterday’s cakes with a note beside it.
Flinging a look over his shoulder, he peered at Stockton’s room. The man was likely still abed. Or had he already risen and seen this note himself? Hastily unfolding the paper, Joseph read Hannah’s feminine writing.
Please forgive my sudden absence. I have gone to visit my cousin and shall be back before supper.
Miss Young
Sandwich? Was she mad? Refolding the note with a gruff breath, he shoved it into his pocket, his mind grinding over what he must do. He had to go after her, no question. Yanking his coat and hat from their position beside the door, he marched out. Such strange behavior, and so abrupt. She was not the kind of person to do this sort of thing. Last night and today? Something was amiss.
Flinging wide the door, he jolted at the sight of Higley’s arm in the air, ready to knock.
“Higley?”
The man lowered his hand. “I’ve come to fetch you.” Foreboding bled through his tone. “Your presence in town has been requested by Major Pitman.”
“My presence?” This day had a hatred for him, it would seem.
Turning back to his waiting horse, Higley indicated for Joseph to head to the barn. “Ready your mount. We must hurry.”
Something in the way Higley held his posture made Joseph’s stomach turn. “Where are we going?”
Higley’s jaw was set, his eyes hard, and he replied with nothing but silence.
Joseph had not seen the man so riled. “I’ll not be a moment.”
Racing to the barn, he readied Anvil in a handful of minutes, his spirit spiked with a nervous edge. Never far from Joseph’s mind was the throbbing sliver of truth, as real as if it were imbedded beneath his nail. Higley knew his identity and could use it against him. Was he now taking him away? Had Higley forced Hannah somewhere against her will? Nay. Joseph mounted, no more than a slight tap needed to get Anvil on the move. Higley seemed too kind beneath his red coat for Joseph to believe him capable of anything nefarious.
Higley’s dappled mare sidestepped as Joseph neared. “Last night Willis Plains was taken on suspicion of working for the enemy.”
“What?” Joseph tried to keep the color in his face from fading. “What happened?”
“You were the last to see him before he was arrested.” Higley’s next words were hoarse and low. “If you will witness of your encounter with him yesterday and that indeed he is loyal to the king, perhaps he can be saved. If not, Major Pitman is prepared to have him hanged.”
Hanged. “I will do whatever I can.”
Higley tapped his heels against his horse and raced to the road. Jo
seph set Anvil to match his speed.
The cold breeze sighed past his ears as he rode, but he couldn’t feel it. His concern was twenty miles behind him in Sandwich. Perhaps ’twas better that Hannah had gone—if she in fact was there. If he too were to be discovered, at least she could not be taken, and perhaps he could vouch for her enough to have it believed she was not involved in any of what they undertook. Thus the blame would be his alone.
The cadenced beat of horses’ hooves against the hard ground drummed into Joseph’s very bones. Praying, he gripped the reins harder, pleading with God to pour His spirit through him. Willis must be saved, their mission kept secret and the raid accomplished. More was at stake than merely their lives. In greater peril was their future.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh, Hannah, my heart breaks for you.”
On the edge of her cousin’s feather bed, Hannah rested her hands in her lap, Caroline directly beside her. Hannah had laid out everything—Ensign, the spying, Stockton, Greene…and Joseph. Every sorrow, every pain now free to roam the air between them, her heart not quite as heavy as it had been.
