Leslie LaFoy (47 page)

He climbed into the coach with a smile that didn't soften the hard lines of his jaw or brighten his eyes. As he sat opposite her, the carriage began to roll forward. “All right, Claire,” he said with a resigned sigh. “I'll entertain your protests now.”

“Well, to begin with,” she replied, hoping that he couldn't hear the desperate pounding of her heart, “I doubt very much that General Gates will be inclined to come looking for me if I don't arrive on his doorstep when I'm supposed to. And surely my testimony isn't the only evidence they have against my uncle. Their case won't crumble for the lack of it. In short, I don't have to go.”

His answer came instantly, no less firm for the gentleness of his voice. “The rule of law is all that separates civilization from anarchy, sweetheart. We don't have the luxury of picking and choosing when we'll honor our laws and fulfill our duty. You've been summoned to testify. It's your duty as a citizen to obey that summons, to provide what the government needs to right a wrong. You know that. And you know that you have to go.”

“Would it insult you terribly if I asked you to come with me?”

“No, it wouldn't insult me at all,” he replied, the tiniest flicker of a real smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I'd give anything to be able to go with you. But I can't. Just as you have your duty, I have mine. And I can't step away from it any more than you can yours. Not now. Especially not now.”

“The work on the committee Mr. Randolph is going to form.”

Devon considered her, trying to gauge how much she was ready to hear, how best to soften her illusions and hopes so that she wasn't shattered when he reached the point of having to destroy them.

“It's much larger than that, sweetheart,” he began, leaning forward to take her hands in his. “When Governor Dunmore dissolved the assembly, he changed the course of our lives. All our lives. We don't have to like it. No one cares that we had our own dreams and plans for the years ahead. It's done and can't be undone.”

He looked down at their hands. “I recall that a very wise woman once gave me a credo that suits the situation perfectly. Circumstances frequently require adaptation.”

“The woman clearly lacked good sense.”

He heard regret in her voice. But also an acceptance that their world had indeed been altered and that they had to accept it. And it was all the further he was willing to push her for now. What time they had left was too precious to spend it in tears or flinging angry, useless words at each other.

“I don't know about good sense,” he began, his heart filling with a bittersweet ache as he grazed her knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. “On the day I met her, she was running about town masquerading as a boy. She did a very fine job of it, too. I was the only one who knew.”

“She sounds like an absolute hoyden.”

“Oh, most definitely,” he agreed, still studying their hands, committing the sight to his memory. “Opinionated, too. And demanding. I couldn't believe that I was being forced to marry her. It turns out that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me.” He looked up to meet Claire's gaze. “I love her.”

“And I love you, Devon.”

He didn't need to hear the words; he could see them in her eyes. Her beautiful deep-blue eyes. No other woman on earth would ever look at him like that, no other woman would ever love him as deeply, completely, and without condition as his beautiful, brave Claire. The enormity of what lay ahead squeezed around his heart.

“Come here,” he whispered, drawing her into his arms, determined to gather as much as he could of her into his soul before he had to let her go.

LAIRE WALKED ALONG THE DOCK
, her every breath shuddering in and out of her lungs, her knees threatening to give out on her at any moment. They hadn't slept but in fits and starts the night before, and her limbs felt as though they'd been weighted with stones. But her emotions… They were painfully alert; so sensitive, so tightly coiled that she felt as if she might explode at any moment. But she couldn't allow it. Just couldn't. Devon was teetering on his own brink; she could feel it in his touch. It passed through his palm and into the small of her back as he guided her through the predawn crowd.

Ahead, amidst the bobbing sea of bodies, she saw familiar faces. Edmund and Meg. And to their right, Hannah. Hot tears welled in Claire's eyes and sent her running for the haven of the old woman's arms.

“Hannah,” she sobbed into her shoulder. “Help me. Please help me.”

“You have to be strong, Lady Claire,” Hannah said in her ear, patting her back. “His whole world is
tumbling down around him, and he can't find his way in it and yours, too.”

“But I can help him,” Claire protested, pulling back to look Hannah in the eyes. “I have the strength. Help me make him see that.”

Brushing away the tears with gentle fingertips, Hannah shook her head. “Child, as long as you're standing beside him, he won't let himself crumble. And he's got to do that. He needs to grieve for everyone and everything he's lost before he can begin to heal. If you love him, then you'll give him the solitude he needs, the time he needs. He can't be half of a marriage until he's a man whole unto himself. And you can't do that for him. No one can.”

“I'm afraid for him, Hannah.”

“We'll watch him. Mr. Cantrell, Meg, and me. You can trust us.”

Swallowing back another wave of tears, Claire choked out, “But you're not going to be at Rosewind to watch over him. You're going back to Mrs. Vobe's.”

“No, she isn't,” Meg corrected, gently laying her hand on Claire's shoulder. “When she stamped down her foot an' refused to go with ye an' Ephram to England, Edmund stamped his own feet at Mrs. Vobe's an' bought her. An' where Edmund goes, she goes. An' he's takin' up residence at Rosewind with us.”

Stunned, she looked between the two women. “Ephram's sailing with me?”

Meg nodded. “Ye didn't think Mr. Devon was 'bout to let ye go off alone, did ye? Ye've been so wrapped up in a worryin' about him the last week or so that ye've missed a wee bit of what else has been goin' on.”

“One of them apparently being that you've moved to a first-name acquaintance with my husband's attorney.”

Meg blushed and managed to control her smile enough to say, “Aye, that I have.”

“I wish you every happiness in the world, Meg.”

“An' I the same for you, Lady Claire. Don't you worry about Mr. Devon. Hannah's tellin' ye the truth. We'll watch him an' make sure he comes out of this all right.”

She felt better, somehow reassured that life would indeed go on and everything would turn out well in the end. Buoyed, she nodded and found a smile for her friend. “You won't get married until I get back, will you? I promise I'll return as soon as I can.”

“No, child,” Hannah said quietly, touching her cheek. “I know you mean well, but coming back before his heart is mended enough to hold you will only tear him apart again. When he's ready, he'll reach out for you. Until then, you have to be strong. It's the only thing you can do for him.”

Claire bowed her head as another wave of tears swelled her throat.

“What your own heart and mind tell you is right doesn't matter, child,” Hannah went on sternly. “Not today. Tell him what he wants to hear. Agree to do what he asks of you. Give him the peace of mind he needs for now. In the days to come, things will change and the promises you make today can be set aside. But you both have to survive today to get there. Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

She did. “It hurts so badly, Hannah.”

“I know. But you pull up that chin of yours and be brave for our Devon. You keep your eyes firmly fixed on tomorrow. It'll be a better one. And remember that the good Lord doesn't give us any burdens that He knows we can't bear.”

Ephram stepped to his mother's side and slipped his arm around her shoulders, saying, “They're calling for passengers to board, Lady Claire. Our bags are stowed. So whenever you're ready…”

Her voice quavered when she said, “Thank you,
Ephram,” but she squared her shoulders, hugged Hannah and Meg, and then turned away from them.

Devon stood waiting for her, his eyes dark and unreadable. Determined to be brave as Hannah had instructed, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist. As always, his arms came around her shoulders to draw her close. Laying her cheek against his chest, she closed her eyes and listened to the beat of his heart. “I'll come back just a soon as the court frees me to leave,” she offered, hoping he'd prove Hannah wrong.

“No, Claire.”

She drew back to look at him, and the hardness of his jaw frightened her. “But I'm your wife. My place is here.”

He shook his head, his lips a thin line of resolution.

“Devon…”

He sighed and stepped back to stand with his hands on her shoulders. “Claire, sweetheart, listen to me and hear what I'm saying. And know that I'd give my life not to have to say these things to you.”

Her heart skittered and she tried to back away. He held her fast and coolly said, “In the next day or so, the Virginia Assembly will send a communication to every other colony, calling for them to meet—probably in Philadelphia at the end of the summer. They'll come and we will, by necessity, consider armed rebellion as a course of action. Whether we make one last effort at peaceful settlement of our differences with England remains to be seen. But I know in my heart that even if we do, it'll fail, Claire. War is coming. It's inevitable.”

Oh, God. She knew what he was going to say, what decisions he'd made.

“It's my duty to stand for right, Claire, to lead however I can in the struggle, and I won't shirk it. All that I have will be forfeited when that day comes. Rosewind will be gone, either seized by the Crown or razed by its
soldiers.” He smiled weakly and his laugh was dry and hard. “Frankly, that doesn't matter to me in the least. The damn thing's an unprofitable, drafty beast, and I'd welcome the chance to build another house and do it right.”

“I'd like to help you do that,” she offered, grasping at hope.

“I know you would,” he said sadly, brushing the back of his hand over her cheek. “But the plain truth is that it's not likely to happen, sweetheart. Great Britain is the mightiest, wealthiest nation in the world.”

He motioned with his chin toward the ship and the people streaming up its gangplank. “Look around you. Look at the people standing with us here. Just ordinary people. This is our army, Claire. These merchantmen tied along the dock are our navy. That's all we have to throw against the greatest power on earth. You know as well as I do what chances we have for success.”

“Then why make the fight, Devon?”

“Because the choice is between living as voiceless slaves or dying as free men. We choose the latter. And yes, I remember your objection. How can I say that when we hold others in chains? We're not perfect, Claire, and we know it. But we also know what perfection is, and we're determined to someday achieve it. It'll take time and a thousand small steps along the road of reason and compromise. But the first step has to be securing the right to make those decisions for ourselves. Richard Henry is absolutely correct. We cannot give to others what we don't ourselves possess.”