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“Excellent.” He shifted again and began to stroll around the room. “As requested, I will speak of this with Pitman and the others tonight, gain their approval, and prepare for engagement as soon as you require it, unless you find my recommendation agreeable and wish for us to further discuss such an action. Signed, etcetera.”
Hannah’s fingers trembled so much she could hardly finish the last without the quill quivering against the paper. At long last. This was the information they had been waiting for.
She dropped the quill in the well and lifted the paper, blowing the ink dry before handing it to him, praying he wouldn’t notice the shaking of her hand.
In silence, he turned, his stare looking far too deep as it brushed down her frame. He took the paper from her hand. “Now, upstairs with you.”
She swallowed, pretending to be humbled by his generosity instead of sickened by it. “You are most gracious. But I must plead to be allowed to finish my duties in the kitchen before I comply. I shall not be long.” Injecting the sweetest sound to her voice and slanting her head just so, Hannah did her best to portray the feminine sweetness she believed he would be unable to decline.
As suspected, he could not. He grinned, admiration deepening the lines at his eyes. “Do what is required, but only that. We must be prepared to leave at four this afternoon. Mrs. Pitman should wish to see you from the start, I’ve no doubt.” Her stomach sickened when that carnal look returned. “Until tonight.”
Hannah nodded with a smile of her own. “Until tonight.”
So much in so few words.
He hadn’t any idea what tonight would bring. What tonight meant for the Patriots. What it meant for her. For Joseph. For their future.
* * *
In the foundry, the hammer seemed lighter in Joseph’s hand as he pounded on the freshly heated iron. The memory of their kiss, of Hannah’s smile as she accepted his proposal, of her fingers twined with his, imbibed him with strength.
“We are only five from our goal.” He spoke to Sackett, who yanked on the bellows at the forge behind him. “I imagine we will be done before the ball. Will you be attending?”
’Twas Deane who laughed in response. “We don’t go to such gatherings. We’re as good as dross to them.” He began banging his hammer, sparks flying. “You? I hear Miss Young is attending with Major Stockton.”
“She is.” A fact he still could not accept, but must. He lifted the glowing barrel and pounded its end on the anvil. “I’ve not been invited.”
“Perhaps you will be.”
Joseph looked up at the sound of Higley’s voice as he entered. Nodding in greeting to the others, Higley stopped in front of Joseph, a paper in his outstretched hand. “This just came for you.”
Clearly already read, Joseph took the note and brushed away the forming scowl with an inhale. Did this man really not harbor ill intentions? ’Twas too dangerous to suppose otherwise. Why else would Higley have read a missive meant for him? The only ones who knew he was even here were his friends in camp at Roxbury.
He moved to place the note in his pocket to read another time, but Higley stopped him. “Read it now. Perhaps ’tis urgent.”
Fighting a questioning scowl, Joseph flipped it open and scanned the note penned in the familiar hand of Nathaniel.
Good day, old friend.
I pray this note finds you blessed and well.
I am writing to inform you that the wedding will go as planned, thanks to your abundant generosity. We know you will not be in attendance, but I could not move forward without telling you that your goodwill will not go unnoticed or unappreciated.
We shall think of you, as you surely will think of us.
Come again when you can. Salem is solemn without you.
Joseph folded the paper, smiling his thanks to Higley. Would to God the man hadn’t deciphered the hidden message as easily as he had. The raid was on, as planned, and his friends were part of it. This was as much a note to relieve him and Hannah of their post as anything. After tonight they could leave without any lingering guilt that in fact the army might still need them, and it had taken far less than the two weeks allotted them. But he would not “come again.” He had Hannah to care for. And Jacob. Though he wished to join his friends at arms, he must take them away and only return when the war was over—if it ended at all. He would never risk their lives knowing Stockton was anywhere near Eaton Hill.
Where would he take them? West? Virginia perhaps? Another thought gripped him at the heels. Hannah knew of Jacob. She must understand ’twould not be only the two of them. ’Twas such a natural inference, perhaps she would not…nay, she was the most loving woman he’d known. Surely she would welcome the thought of caring for the boy.
“All is well, I trust?” Higley’s sudden question snapped Joseph back to the present.
“Uh…aye.” He slipped the note into his pocket, then reached for the long barrel that needed another good heating. Shoving it into the coals, he reached for the bellows. “Family wedding. Seems I shall miss it.”
“It seems you shall.” Higley’s jaw ticked, and his tone went dark. “Have you seen Lieutenant Greene?”
Joseph straightened. “Nay. Not since Stockton banished him to Sandwich. Why?”
