Less Than a Gentleman (15 page)

“You must have been hiding in the library.”

“No.” He turned her so her back was nestled against his chest. “Ah, I like this.”

His hands, splayed upon her belly, radiated heat through the thin cotton shift. He moved a hand toward her bosom and stopped with the fullness of her breast resting on his thumb.

With a shiver, she glanced down. Her nipples had tightened, the hard buds straining against her cotton shift. Good Lord, she looked like a wanton woman!

She lunged from his grasp, snatched her shawl from the bed, and covered herself. “I—I . . .” She searched her mind for something to say.
I refuse to behave wantonly? I fear too much that I want to?

She didn’t dare look at his face. Her cheeks burned. “I was . . . uncomfortable. It must have been the buttons on your coat.”
Blast!
What a stupid thing to say. He’d simply remove his coat. In fact, he might take her words as an invitation to disrobe completely.

He smoothed a hand over the buttons on his jacket lapel, then curled his hand into a fist. “The devil take it, they’re flat. How could you feel them?”

“Well, they’re . . . hard.”

“Dammit, woman. You want to see something hard?”

“There’s no need to growl. ’Twas naught but a wee—”

“
Button?
I’ll show you—” He took a deep breath. “This is not the right time.” He strode to the table and yanked it away from the door.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes.” He reached for the door latch. “No more spying, Caroline. That’s an order.” He let himself out.

An order?
With a snort, she shoved the table back against the door.

Thomas Haversham. It was highly aggravating that she knew so little about him, when he knew so much about her. How
did
he know what had transpired in the library? How did he know Captain Hickman’s intentions?

As far as she knew, the redcoats didn’t know he existed. And the way he moved about in the dark in his stockings could only mean he intended to keep his existence a secret. Where was he going now? And what was he doing?

Oh, she intended to keep spying, whether he liked it or not. And while she was exposing secrets, she would discover all there was to know about the mysterious, so-called
butler
, Thomas Haversham.

She needed to know. For she was falling totally and irreparably in love with him.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

Tuesday, September 26, 1780

W
hen the first rays of sun poured through her window, Caroline sat up in bed and discovered the first clue. Dusty footprints on her floor. Obviously, Thomas had walked on some filthy floors in his stocking feet.
Odd.
She couldn’t recall seeing a dirty floor in the house.

She grabbed her clothes and followed the dusty trail out the door and down the hall. It stopped next to a wall twenty feet from the nursery door.
Strange.
Perhaps Thomas had removed his stockings and proceeded in bare feet. Had he ventured into the nursery?

The children were just waking as she entered the nursery. “Happy birthday, Edward. Did a man come in here last night, the man who put out the fire in your bed?”

Edward yawned. “No.”

Charlotte rubbed her eyes. “You mean the ghost?”

Edward glared at his sister. “Mama says there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Let’s dress, so we can go down for breakfast.” Caroline strolled into her sister’s room and dropped her clothes on the bed. “Good morning, Ginny.”

Virginia groaned. “Morning, already?”

“Yes. Did you convince Edward not to spy?”

“Yes.” Virginia rolled out of bed. “I think so.”

Charlotte dashed into the room and went behind the screen to use the chamber pot.

Caroline pulled off her nightclothes and slipped into a fresh shift. “What about you, Ginny?”

Virginia glanced at the screen, signifying she didn’t want her daughter to hear too much. “I promise to be in bed where I belong every night.”

“Good.” Caroline leaned against the bed to pull on her stockings. “I don’t know how, but we were observed. The butler knows everything.”

“
What?
You mean Haver—?” Virginia paused when Charlotte emerged from the behind the screen and washed her hands in the china bowl. “You talked to him?” Virginia helped her daughter dress.

Caroline’s cheeks grew warm as she tied the garters around her stockings. “He came to see me. Rather late.”

Virginia handed Charlotte her shoes and stockings. “Sweeting, put these on in the other room.”

Charlotte gave them a curious look. “What’s going on?”

“I just need to talk to my sister.” Virginia escorted her daughter to the door, then hurried to the chamber pot behind the screen. “I thought Haversham was gone.”

“So did I.” Caroline pulled a petticoat over her head and tied the tabs at her waist. “But he arrived at my bedchamber out of the blue.”

“Why?” Virginia poured water from the pitcher into the china bowl to wash her hands.

“He saw us in the library and ordered us not to spy anymore. Can you believe the gall of the man?”

Virginia gave her an alarmed look. “How did he see us?”

“I don’t know.” Caroline tugged a gown over her head. “But I mean to find out.”

Virginia moved behind her and took hold of the laces. “He’s not a Loyalist, is he?”

“No.” Caroline held on to the bedpost as her sister tightened the laces. “He knows Continental soldiers in the area and discovered the location of our father. He must be sympathetic to the cause.”

“He may be more than sympathetic.” Virginia tied the laces.

Caroline winced. Was it too late? Had she fallen for a soldier? “I have doubts that he was ever a butler.”

“I agree.” Virginia slipped on one of Jane’s old lying-in gowns. “He’s a bit mysterious, and no doubt you find that intriguing, but I have to wonder if it is wise for you to see him.”

Caroline took the comb from the bedside table and dragged it through her hair. “I admit there is a great deal I don’t know about him, but I believe I can trust him. He—he says he cares for me.”

“Already?” Virginia’s eyes narrowed. “How often have you been alone with him?”

“A few times.”

“In your bedchamber?”

“He behaved himself. Somewhat.” The warmth in her cheeks reminded Caroline how poorly she disguised her feelings. “Here. Let me tighten your laces.”

Virginia turned her back. “He
is
a handsome man.”

“You . . . noticed?”

“I’m expecting, not blind. I also have some experience in the wonders of physical attraction.” Virginia rubbed her swollen belly. “And the results.”

“I—I haven’t gone that far.”

“Good. I don’t want to see you hurt again.” Virginia glanced back, a thoughtful look in her pale green eyes. “There could be more to him than you realize.”

“I told him about Roger. Thomas knows how strongly I feel about avoiding soldiers.”

“Men aren’t always what they seem. Remember how Quincy pretended to be a fop?”

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Caroline tied the laces, then helped her sister with her stockings and shoes. Ginny had reached the point she could no longer see her feet, much less reach them.

Since the redcoats’ arrival, the children ate their meals in the kitchen. Charlotte and Edward skipped down the hallway, then waited at the stairs. As Caroline ambled beside her slow-moving sister, she noticed once again how the dusty trail ended abruptly by the wall.

There it was. A hairline crack in the wall, so fine she hadn’t noticed it before. She traced it with her finger. It continued through the chair rail down to the floor.

“Are you coming?” Ginny asked at the top of the stairs.

“I forgot something. Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Caroline watched her sister and the children descend the stairs.

The crack in the wall outlined a door, but how to open it? There was no visible latch, so there must be a hidden one. She ran her fingers beneath the chair rail. Yes, she felt a lever of some kind, small and metallic. She pulled and heard a
snick.

The right side of the door swung out; the left swung inward. Interesting. It swiveled on a rod, so there were no visible hinges from either side.

She peeked inside and spied a steep staircase going down. It was too dark to investigate without a light. She knelt to take a closer look at the top landing of the stairs. Yes, footprints in the dust. Thomas Haversham had come this way.

A door closed nearby, and she heard male voices approaching. It had to be the foot soldiers who roomed on the third floor. She pushed the secret door shut ’til she heard the click.

Footsteps rounded the corner. Two soldiers stopped when they saw her.

She smiled. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

One stepped forward and offered his arm. “May I escort you to breakfast?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caroline’s heart pounded as she accompanied the soldiers to the dining room. She had discovered Haversham’s secret. Where did the staircase lead? To the library, she would wager. And very soon, she’d know for sure.

E
arly in the morning, Matthias arrived at Snow’s Island. Instead of the usual lone welcome from Simon, there were ten soldiers to greet him. The population had multiplied overnight.

“Matt!” Richard approached him. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Matthias dismounted. “I take it Marion’s back?”

“Aye, and he wants to see you.” Richard eyed him with a frown. “What happened to your clothes?”

Matthias brushed flour off his coat sleeves. “I slept in the mill on a mattress of flour sacks.”

“Why?” Richard smiled. “Did the vixen try to bite you?”

“No, the house is full of redcoats.”

Richard’s smile faded. “Is Aunt Jane all right?”

“Yes. Where’s Marion?”

“This way.” Richard led him through a maze of tents.

“Did he receive my report?”

“Yes. Major Munro is . . . assisting him.”

Matthias figured this was his cousin’s tactful way of saying Marion could hardly read. When Richard pointed out the tent, Matthias entered and found Marion and Major Munro seated at a table with a stack of papers in front of them.

“Captain Thomas.” Marion glanced up. “I’ve been looking at your report.”

Major Munro stood and skirted the table with a hand outstretched. “I thank you for finding my daughters.”

“My pleasure, sir.” Matthias shook his hand, careful not to wince from the Scotsman’s tight grip.

Marion leaned back in his chair. “I see you captured supplies at Kingstree without any casualties. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir.” Matthias was uncomfortably aware that the Scottish major was inspecting him closely. “Without the ferries and bridges, the British have been forced to rely on barges. I have their schedule here.” He removed the folded paper from his coat.

“Good lad.” Major Munro snatched the paper from his hand and passed it to Marion. “How did ye acquire the information?”

“The redcoats have taken over my home, a plantation on the Black River, midway between Charles Town—”

“Wait.” Major Munro raised a hand to interrupt. “Did ye no’ write that my daughters were staying at yer home?”

“Yes, sir, they are, but they’re safe.”

The major frowned. “I’ll be the judge of that, laddie.”

“They are unharmed, sir. My mother is there also. I wouldn’t have left them if I thought it too dangerous.”

“Enough.” Marion waved the schedule in the air. “How did you acquire this?”

“Captain Hickman has commandeered the library as his headquarters. I went in at night and copied the schedule.”

“How many soldiers are there?” Munro asked.

“There were six, but now there’s only the captain and two infantry. Of course, whenever a barge comes, the number will increase.”

Marion frowned. “Weren’t they suspicious of you?”

“They never knew I was there, sir. The house has a secret passageway they know nothing about.”

Marion exchanged a look with Major Munro, then rose to his feet. Planting his palms on the table, he leaned forward. “You can access their headquarters unseen?”

“Yes, sir,” Matthias replied with an uneasy feeling.

Marion circled the table. “Can you keep your presence there a secret?”

“You’re sending me back?”

“Of course. ’Tis too good an opportunity to pass up. You’ll need to choose a courier to deliver your messages.” Marion stopped in front of him. “Can you do it?”

Matthias took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.” He understood the penalty for spying, but the odds of dying in battle were just as bad. At least he’d be there to make sure Caroline didn’t risk her neck.

Marion whisked a paper off the desk. “Considering the risk you’re taking, I’m promoting you to a major.”

Matthias blinked. “Thank you, sir, but hiding in a secret passageway is hardly a heroic act.”

“It is when you’re that close to the enemy. Particularly in your case.” Marion handed him the paper.

Matthias stared at a crude likeness of himself. At the top of the printed handbill, the title read,
Wanted for Treason and Murder—Matthias Murray Thomas.

Damn it to hell
. There was a reward on his head.

“Congratulations. I dinna know ye were such a valuable man.” Munro took the handbill and set it on the desk. “Do my daughters know who ye are?”

“No, sir. I . . . never told them.” Matt’s face grew warm.

Munro narrowed his eyes. “What
did
ye tell them?”

“As little as possible, sir.”

“A good strategy,” Marion said. “He must be careful. Good luck, Major.”

“Thank you, sir.” Matthias exited the tent. A wanted man. A spy. He’d be lucky if he saw his twenty-ninth birthday.

This was terrible timing. He couldn’t continue to see Caroline when he was a wanted man. She’d suffered enough from losing that Roger fellow. But how could he avoid seeing her when he had orders to spy at the house?

“Well?” Richard asked. “What happened? You’re staring at the clouds.”

Matthias looked at his cousin. “I have to go home.”

“But the redcoats are there.”

“That’s my new assignment. I’m to spy on them.”

Richard sucked in a long breath. “That’s dangerous.”

“There’s more. There’s a price on my head.”

Richard nodded. “I know. I saw my father yesterday. They posted one of the handbills on his church door.”

Matthias closed his eyes briefly. How had the British figured out who he was? “You know the way to Loblolly. Will you be my courier?”

“All right. Where and when?”

“The orchard. The peach tree that was hit by lightning.” This was Tuesday, Matthias thought. “Come every Wednesday and Saturday evening.”

“I’ll come, too,” Major Munro announced behind them.

Matthias turned. How long had Caroline’s father been there?

Munro continued, “I want to know the way to yer house in case my daughters need my protection.”

“I’ll be there,” Matthias said. “I can protect them.”

The Scotsman removed a pipe and pouch of tobacco from his coat. “Do ye think so, laddie?”

“If one of the redcoats lays a hand on Caroline, I’ll shred the bastard and feed the pieces to an alligator.”

“Och, that’s good.” The major packed tobacco into his pipe. “But ye seem to have forgotten I have more than one daughter. Did Ginny have the wee bairn yet?”

Matthias felt his face grow warm. “No, sir. And her children are fine.”

“Thomas is a Welsh name, aye?”

“Yes, sir.”

The major stuck his pipe, unlit, in his mouth, then stuffed the pouch of tobacco back into his coat pocket. “I’ve always thought the Welsh were too serious. Make good poets and preachers, though.”

Matthias snorted. What ridiculous hogwash.

Richard lit a stick in the nearby campfire and handed it to the Scotsman. “You may be right, sir. My father is a preacher.”

Matthias scowled at his cousin. “It is nonsense.”

Richard smiled. “I’ve always thought you were a bit too serious, Matt.”

“Go to hell.”

Munro lit his pipe, then tossed the stick into the fire. “Any Scots in yer family, Thomas?”

“Yes, sir. On my mother’s side. Murray.”

“Good.” Munro pointed his pipe at Matthias. “And if ye lay a hand on Caroline, should I shred you to pieces?”

Matthias blinked. “That will not be necessary, sir.”

Jamie Munro’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Ye mean ye doona plan to touch her?”

Matthias had a bad feeling the man had been baiting him all along. “I mean that I will behave honorably, sir.”