The Heavens Shall Fall (11 page)

Cutler gestured to one of the black servants to refill Jonathan
’s mug. Jonathan accepted even though he had not drunk much out of it.

“
I do not think the arrangements we have set will change. I thought the merging of the two businesses has gone smoothly. At least it is what I have been told. Complicated, but I see no need to change what has been set.” Jonathan explained his position. “Rebekah has told to me the circumstances that Ian Cahill left her his fortune. I have no desire to alter his wishes. I thought I had confirmed my intent, even before I married Rebekah.”

“
But nothing was legalized. You don’t mind if I send the necessary papers and deeds to Peterson? It would put Esther’s mind at ease.”

Jonathan shook his head.
“None. It would be one less detail I have on my agenda. Have the house here in Charles Town along with the plantations go to Esther Daventry and her sons. It is what Rebekah wants, and what she believes was Ian’s intent. We have decided to live in Williamsburg, as soon as the war is over. I wish I could convince her of the logic to leave now, but I find in my heart I haven’t the conviction.”

“
She is a stubborn woman,” Cutler agreed, pleased with Jonathan’s intent. “But a good one. You both will be happy.”

Jonathan smiled. Cutler was not a difficult man to read
: an opinionated one perhaps, but a smart man. He did not bolster his wishes with windswept words, but with actions and plans. Plainspoken, he had sworn to look after Ian’s wishes. Cutler had kept to his word as Jonathan had to his. It was a mutual respect.

“
It will mean little if the British have their way. I’m not under any illusions of what will happen to my property if the British are successful,” Cutler observed.

A laugh escaped Jonathan.
“If that were to happen, I fear I would lose more than my possessions. General Lincoln has cautioned me that the British have not taken my exploits lightly.”

“
Know you are in good company,” Cutler observed. “It leaves us little choice but to push those bastards back across the Atlantic.”

Jonathan held up his mug for a toast.
“Then here’s to victory for our cause.”

* * * *

Since her arrival in Charles Town, Rebekah’s spirits had never been higher. Tonight she refused to contemplate her past. Her future lay with the man who sat beside her. Her heart swelled with the remembrance of his declaration:
I’m nothing without you.

The secrets…so many secrets…that
had almost destroyed her, vanished into the night’s air with Jonathan’s declaration of his love, his proclamation of their marriage to all of Charles Town…his determination to give her the life she desired.

Lost in the merriment, Rebekah allowed herself
a moment to bask in the glow of her happiness. She looked over at her husband and met his gaze. How easy it was to forget the other occupants in the room.

Jonathan commanded all of her attention. She loved the way she felt with his arm upon her waist
while sitting her in her seat, the way his eyes fixed upon hers…the way her heart fluttered with his touch.

She caught her reflection in the gold
-plated mirror that hung on the dining room wall. Her auburn ringlets fell in a way that framed her face, in a soft, flattering fashion. Her eyes seemed to sparkle; her cheeks glowed as warm as the pearls about her throat.

She wanted so desperately for Jonathan to be proud of her this night—her first public appearance as Mrs. Jonathan Corbett. On his arm, she arrived for tonight
’s celebration with a newfound confidence. She wished the same for her oldest and dearest friend.

Katy loved Ernie. That was not in doubt; it was written plainly on her face. Rebekah supposed she liked Ernie well enough, but there was something about him that bothered her. It was more than his ridiculous smile
, or his inability to focus on the task at hand.

She just couldn
’t put her finger on it. Perhaps it was the way Katy catered to Ernie’s every whim or more so, his demanding she do so. Daniel told her once that Ernie had deserted his post during an assignment. He had fallen asleep after a night of drinking.

Rebekah tried not to judge. She understood that Ernie
’s life had not been the life of ease that Katy’s had been. Though, try as she could, she couldn’t dismiss the feeling that Ernie was more thrilled to become part of the Landor family, than becoming Katy’s husband. It was not the only source of apprehension about the Landor family.

Rebekah held suspicions that Theodore Landor was in truth a Tory. Subtle things she had noticed while
she visited Katy, but none more so than when the British threatened Charles Town back in the spring while the majority of the Patriot army had been on a counteroffensive against the British in Georgia.

The British General Augustin
e Prévost had closed in on the city and took out what was left of their defenses. Prevost demanded Charles Town surrender. Katy had told her that her father had been among those who pressed to negotiate with the British to surrender Charles Town.

To Rebekah, it struck her as odd behavior…since British occupation would have meant the probable confiscation of all Patriot properties, including his own.

Thankfully, the army received news of the attack. Prévost withdrew quickly on the news that the army was heading back to Charles Town. The threat was evaded.

But
, to press for surrender seemed a strange thing for Landor to do. Rebekah had never considered Theodore Landor to be an impulsive man, such as Christopher Gadsden. Nor would she consider him a passionate man for a cause like Jonathan. No, he seemed more of a man who considered each move that he made logically and rationally. It made her wary of the man.

After dinner, Rebekah retired arm in arm with Katy and the other ladies to the parlor. She watched Jonathan withdraw with most of the men to argue the merits and strategy of the war swirling around them. Quite boisterously, their words echoed down the corridor. At times, profane condemnation of the British.

In Charles Town, etiquette demanded that the women politely ignore the proclamations. Rebekah found it amusing to observe the ladies around her. Unfolding her fan, she held it over her face to whisper to Katy.

“
Katy, do you not think…”

Rebekah halted.
She turned and found herself talking to a vacant space where her friend once sat. Where was Katy?

Her fan fell to her side as she rose and glanced around the room. Her friend was nowhere to be seen. Rebekah
’s stomach tightened with uneasiness when she realized Katy had slipped away from the celebration.

Katy would not leave her party without reason. Perhaps Ernie had pleaded with her for a brief escape alone, but Katy would have told her. The last she had seen of her friend, Randa
’s maid had been whispering to her. Randa!

Oh, Good Lord, what has Randa done!
 
Randa always had a way about her to take the focus off Katy. Not that it happened often. Randa thrived on attention, but not on the attention garnered as of late.

Scandal!
Humiliation! Shame! She had not done well with the gathering scandal about her husband. William obsessed with another woman! Never! Not when he had her! Was she not the most beautiful woman in Charles Town? She could have had any man.

Rebekah could not explain the fear for Katy that had gripped her. She went to search for her friend.
She exited the parlor and glanced around the foyer. Nothing. She didn’t see Katy or hear her voice.

An ominous feeling swept through Rebekah, followed by an urgent need to find her friend. She turned toward the stairs and went up them.

The passageway was dim, lit only by a table lamp. Her footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet runner down the corridor. She saw no Katy. She called out in her loudest whisper, “Katy. Katy.”

Rebekah received no answer, but heard frolicsome giggling. It came from an open doorway
at the far end of the hall. She drew near the bedchamber, her fear recognized.

In the entrance, Katy stood
, unable to move or speak as low moaning blended with soft pants that drifted on the night’s air. A dizzy glare reflected in her eyes; a twinge of repugnance crossed her pale face.

On the four-poster bed, a horrid sight played out before their eyes. Ernie straddled a naked woman underneath him, whose legs entwined behind his bare back.
He heaved with a low moan and thrust hard into his lover.

Unable to contain her shock, a startled gasp escaped Rebekah.

Ernie’s eyes bulged as he glanced over his shoulder, stunned to see Katy. Abruptly, he scuttled off the woman…off the bed. He stumbled and fell onto the floor. Desperately, he struggled to find something, anything, to cover his nakedness.

Clothes
were scattered across the room. A militia hunting shirt, leggings, and boots along with a creamy-white gown… Rebekah’s attention drew back to the bed.

Randa! She clung to the sheets,
covered her own state of undress with a smile plastered to her face…with a look of satisfaction that couldn’t be denied. The Jezebel!

“
Katy!” Ernie implored his fiancée. “It’s not what it seems.”

Katy would have none of it. She swung sharply away and ran out of the room.

Ernie’s voice rose behind her as he followed her out into the hall. “Come back! It was a mistake…a mistake…”

Rebekah raced after Katy down the back stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, a man waited with a deep frown.

“Katy, my dear, whatever is the matter? What is all the commotion upstairs?”

Theodore Landor was well
-kept for a middle-aged man, medium height and heavy features. His dark hair was streaked with silver. A man of refined taste and ample means, he had the look of an elder statesman and negotiated like one as well.

His voice carried a soothing quality, but also a purpose
that Rebekah had no doubt was to contain the situation. A situation, of which she also had no doubt, he had knowledge.

“
Father…Father…” Katy’s voice faltered. “I can’t…can’t speak of it.”

“
Of course not. Understandable.” His frown disappeared as he drew his youngest into his arms. Katy wept into his shoulder. He let her cry only a moment. “But unfortunately, you do not want all of Charles Town to know of your fiancé’s indiscretion. You are a lady of sensibility.”

From the tone of his words, Rebekah thought Katy
’s father entertained the notion that Katy would be able to compose herself well enough to go back to their guests. How little did he know of the pain of the betrayal!

“
Surely you jest! You cannot mean I have to return to the party…Father…Father…Ernie bedded Randa. Randa!”

Katy
’s voice strained, loud and strident. Rebekah watched Landor’s expression alter. He comprehended that he could not squelch Randa’s involvement, if Katy returned to the evening’s affair. Katy’s nerves were frayed.

He would have no control of his daughter if she unleashed her anger and well she could if she saw Randa. She might well succumb to the urge to scream and throw objects with or without the guests to observe the breakdown.

Rebekah intervened. “If you would allow, Mr. Landor, I could take Katy home with me. Now.”

For a moment, he looked as if he might refuse. Katy stared up at her father with defiance in her gaze. Finally, he agreed.

Rebekah gathered Katy in her arms and led her out the back of the house. Landor had informed Jonathan, who met the two in the garden. They left the music and gaiety, and walked home.

Katy stayed only the one night. Her father came over in the morning and took her back to her home. The whole of the incident had been whitewashed.

Rebekah heard Randa and Ernie recovered well enough to slither back into the party. Theodore Landor announced that Katy had fallen unexpected
ly ill, covering nicely for her absence.

There had been no mention of the indiscretion, only sympathy for Katy to have missed such a delightful event. Neither had the engagement been officially called off. Instead, Theodore Landor pressed his daughter to hold to her commitment. Katy steadfastly refused.

Desolate at Ernie’s betrayal, Katy became quite melancholy. Ernie begged for forgiveness for his errant ways. Katy had none to give.

Ernie had even come to Jonathan to intercede for him. Jonathan refused to become involved. In the end, there was no resolution between Katy and Ernie. Within the week, Ernie
’s militia unit was deployed out of Charles Town.

October, 1779

Jonathan slipped through the tent
’s fold. He had been summoned by General Benjamin Lincoln. Jonathan found his commander staring blankly out into nothingness. The unsuccessful attempt to retake Savanah weighed heavily on his shoulders. Dejected. Disheartened. The French departed back to their fleets to withdraw from the siege on Savanah, which meant one thing. Defeat.

Over General Lincoln
’s vigorous protest, Count d’Estaing had decided that the French had given an honorable effort. As the year before, when d’Estaing had left General John Sullivan stranded in the middle of an operation in Newport, Rhode Island, the French again prepared to leave.

Jonathan had sensed that d
’Estaing’s heart was never in the campaign. He followed his orders with reluctance. The count had no desire to be in Southern waters during hurricane season and was quite impatient. For the French, it had been at best a lukewarm attempt to recapture Savanah. For the Americans, it had been essential in the defense of the South. It failed. Now, they were left with the consequences of that defeat.

It gnawed at Lincoln
’s core. Never had Jonathan seen his commander so enraged at their allies. After what should have been a quick and easy conquest, D’Estaing allowed the British commander, Maitland, to outmaneuver the combined forces of the French and Americans. During a parley to discuss the British surrender, D’Estaing allowed Maitland time to gather reinforcements.

The American officers, General Lachlan McIntosh, Colonel Francis Marion, and Colonel John Laurens
, were furious and openly called out the French for the display. In turn, d’Estaing called the lot of Americans “insurgents.”

D
’Estaing questioned Lincoln’s ability to lead. D’Estaing said the commander, although a brave and honest man, hadn’t an opinion of his own and was easily swayed by the opinions of others. Lincoln lacked the strength needed to lead the Americans against the British.

Jonathan doubted d
’Estaing understood the magnitude of the responsibilities Lincoln had on his shoulders, nor did he imagine d’Estaing cared. Lincoln was isolated from the rest of the Continental Army. He had seen no renewed commitment toward the Southern Campaign from Congress. His requests were constantly ignored.

General Washington offered no solution to the overwhelming need for reinforcements. Lincoln had long asked for the help of the Carolinians in enlisting into the Continental Army. Most
men balked at the notion because of the length of the enlistment period: the entirety of the war. The Carolina militia offered little support. Moreover, the militia had been an issue unto itself, prone to insubordination and desertion at the most crucial of times.

Lincoln would find little solace in this failure to recapture Savannah. He faced the reality that he had made no headway in this battle in all the time he had been assigned to the South.

Lincoln turned to Jonathan to acknowledge his entrance: His large frame drooped. His eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. His expression strained.

“
You have come with a casualty report?”

“
Yes, General.” Jonathan frowned. He had worked tirelessly alongside the other physicians and aides, but the news wasn’t good. “We have lost two hundred fifty men, mostly militia. Over six hundred wounded.”

Lincoln fixed him with a stern eye.
“It should have been our greatest moment.”

“
If the French had maintained their support,” Jonathan agreed. He comprehended the connection between the general and himself. Both men had come from the North and well understood the ramifications of this loss.

Jonathan had served under Lincoln long enough to know the man rarely spoke his opinions,
and kept them mainly to himself.

“
We will fall back to Charles Town,” Lincoln said. “There is nothing more to be done here. I will leave you to see to the wounded with the True Blues.”

“
Yes, General. I will make the necessary arrangements.”

Rubbing his tired eyes, Lincoln shook his head. In a rare moment, he confessed the dire circumstances
that surrounded his army. “It is a hard disappointment to swallow, Doctor. You understand now the British eyes will fall upon Charles Town. It will be left up to us to protect the city. We will need to prepare quickly. I received news before the Savanah siege. It is thought the British are preparing a major assault on the South. An army prepares in New York to descend upon us.”

Jonathan nodded. He had heard the whispers and realized the bleak situation, but to hear the words spoke
n openly sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“
I leave on the morrow. I expect to see you back as soon as the wounded have been situated.”

“
Yes, General.”

It was a dismissal. Jonathan withdrew quietly, leaving the general to continue writing his letters. Jonathan had his own letter to write.

Over the years, Jonathan had written many letters of condolence. This letter was one of the hardest. He had to inform his wife’s best friend of the loss of her former fiancé. In the midst of the disaster that had become of the siege of Savanah, Lieutenant Ernest Sherman had been one of the fallen. He had died on the battlefield.

* * * *

A gull above Rebekah’s head rode a breeze as she walked along the Battery. Before her, the familiar harbor lay sparse of vessels. Once, it swarmed with commercial ships bearing indigo, rice, pine, turpentine, beef and corn. Now, she saw only a few, mostly warships anchored off the wharves flying the
Don’t Tread on Me
flag.

She paused and drank in the salt-tanged air. She remembered when she
had first arrived in Charles Town. How impressed she was with its beauty. Many days and nights she would stand here and watch ships pass by, see breathtaking sunrises, and at night the glistening of moonlight reflect off the water.

But on this March day, she could not ignore that the city had changed. An influx of soldiers, vagrants, and refugees swarmed within the boundaries. She saw homeless families coming in from the low country
, laying claim to empty patches of land with what was left of their possessions. Jonathan told her he thought the population had doubled.

Barricades had been formed. Ditches dug. Soldiers walked the streets
, armed with muskets and fowlers along with knives.

Anxiety riddled her. The British bore down upon Charles Town
and shut down the once busy port. General Henry Clinton had invaded the South with his army of nine thousand men. Skirmishes with the British abounded. Word circulated that Clinton edged up the Ashley River.

There had been no reinforcements from Congress. Instead, Congress had passed a measure to form a unit of three thousand blacks for the army. It was proposed by John Laurens, a South Carolinian,
and son of Henry Laurens, a prominent statesman and former slave trader. It was overwhelmingly rejected by the South Carolina legislature.

Governor John Rutledge and Christopher Gadsden adamantly discarded the idea. It angered Jonathan to no end.

“They have tied the general’s hands. They expected to be defended on words only!” Jonathan cried. “They hold to their prejudices and personal betterment! They are worried only about their riches and not the welfare of the public!”

Rebekah warned Jonathan to contain his ire. It would do nothing to change their opinions, only deepen their resolve. She understood that plantation owners feared that their slaves would revolt. They had before, long before Rebekah had arrived in Charles Town. A valid fear since slaves outnumbered their owners
.

The lack of support for the army was
not the only thing that bothered Jonathan. Her safety weighed heavily upon her husband.

Last night w
hile Jonathan thought she slept, she heard him discuss her situation with Daniel and Esther. Jonathan had wanted her gone before now. She did not understand the maneuverings of the military, but she understood that things were not going well for the Patriots.

Jonathan
’s heated voice echoed up the stairs, “The British are tightening the noose around our necks. I do not want Rebekah here if the British recapture Charles Town. I doubt escape for the army will be an option much longer, if at all.”

Jonathan feared for her treatment, being his wife
, if she was caught within Charles Town. Why the British looked upon Jonathan as a threat was beyond her! Was he not a mere physician? Though, she wondered whether it had to do with Black Rory…

She realized that she was at fault. She had begged Jonathan to let her stay. After the failed attempt
on Savannah and the news that the British had brought a force south, Jonathan felt the time had come. Only Rebekah discovered she was with child.

She couldn
’t have been more thrilled, but Jonathan had worries.
You are too damnable pale and thin! You haven’t enough time to recover from almost dying. The South’s unforgiving sickly season is upon us!

It tore at her heart
, for she feared Jonathan had been right. She had become sickly since she discovered her state of health, to the point where she had been pressed to stay in her bed. She saw well the worry in Jonathan’s eyes.

She did as he bid. She wanted this baby so desperately. She allowed Esther to care for her. Over the last few weeks, she had done little, except read. Katy visited regularly.

Poor Katy. She did not say much about Ernie; she did not talk of him at all. It was as if the engagement…or Ernie…had never been.

Restless, Rebekah
had left her bed. She had a need for air, fresh air, to contemplate the world around her. Something was wrong with the baby.

The baby wasn
’t due until June, but already she realized it wasn’t like when she carried Eliza. Up until a few days ago, the babe had been quite active. She could not remember the last time the babe moved and she had begun to spot.

A
n overwhelming gloom enveloped her, one she could not dismiss. So she walked, hoped against all hope she was wrong, but knew in her heart the inevitable truth.

A sudden twinge of pain made her grip the railing. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Jonathan
as he ran toward her.

“
Good Lord, woman! What on earth are you doing out here!” he reprimanded. “Esther sent for me. And good thing she did. You should well be in bed.”

“
Oh, Jonathan.” A warmth ran down her legs. “The baby…”

He didn
’t say another word. He swept her in his arms and carried her back to the house.

She didn
’t remember much of the commotion about her. She remembered only a sense of inconsolable loss. She gave birth to a baby girl, stillborn, never to take a breath of life.

* * * *

Through hazy sunlight, Jonathan stood by Rebekah at the grave of their infant daughter at St. Michael’s. Rebekah named her Selah. Such a small thing, no larger than a small doll. She had been perfectly formed and had the look of an angel sleeping.

Rebekah hadn
’t been able to attend the funeral. It had been a small affair, only close family. Outside the graveyard, sorrowing household servants sang a hymn, a beautiful and haunting melody, one with promise of seeing loved ones once more after this life. He prayed that was true.

He had lost many loved ones over the last few years. Far too many. His worry, though, lay before him.

Rebekah had asked him to come with her today, but she had asked little else. She walked around, numb with grief. She hadn’t cried since she delivered the baby. It was as if she had walled back her sorrow. She wasn’t pushing him back, but neither was she talking. An attempt, he realized, to be strong for him.

He had not told her news of the war. He
had no need; it was quite evident. He wouldn’t add to her worries nor would he tell her that he had received a note from Cutler that warned Jonathan to withdraw from Charles Town immediately. Cutler had it on good authority that it would not bode well for him if he was in Charles Town if it fell.

With a bounty on his head, Cutler had done so. At this point, Lincoln considered retreating with the whole of the army, but he was met with staunch resistance from
the civil government. Lincoln hesitated.

Jonathan refused to consider leaving without his commander. He was an American officer. He would not abandon his duty on a rumor. He would face his fate
, alongside his fellow Patriots.

In silence, he walked Rebekah back to the house
and watched her walk up the stairs to their bedroom. He made no movement to stop her. She looked pale and very tired. No doubt she needed rest.

Saddened, the feeling grew within him she should not be alone. She needed…he needed someone to turn to in their time of need. They needed each other. He stared at the staircase.
He mounted the stairs.

He opened the bedroom door quietly
and entered into the dim room. He found her lying face down across the bed. He sat down beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder.