The Heavens Shall Fall (6 page)

Marcus had met the woman while in Philadelphia
: a pretty, young thing, whose father steadfastly supported the king. Marcus hadn’t given her much thought, for he had other things on his mind. He frowned, and then said, “You have my attention, Major, although I will admit confusion. No matter how beautiful Miss Shippen may be, I highly doubt Arnold would turn for a simple smile.”

“
It will not be a simple smile, my friend.” Andre exuded confidence. “Peggy understands what needs to be done. We need to make contact in a favorable setting. My sources tell me Arnold is an extremely unhappy man at the moment.

“
He believes he is being slighted by the American Congress. Unvalued, unsung, and under-paid. I have learned that he is using his position as military commander of Philadelphia to fund his expenses.”

“
A prideful, arrogant man,” Marcus said out loud as if thinking to himself. “A man who would justify his actions by convincing himself he deserved it. That he had been deprived of what was rightly his…yes, a man such as that could be on the verge if he is indeed disgruntled. You would need a confidant to encourage him…I doubt it could be this Peggy, but perhaps she could introduce him to the confidant. I may even know of one who could be of help. A Stansbury.”

Marcus paused. His mind had already begun to plan a course of action. He glanced over at Andre, who eased back in his chair, seemingly content with Marcus
’ reaction. This had been Andre’s intent—to draw him into the scheme. He needed Marcus’ connections to maintain a line of communication through the utmost secrecy. Moreover, he needed Marcus’ experience to pull off the impossible.

Marcus returned Andre
’s smile. He felt his blood surge. Confidence resurged within him that the war could be won, heightened by a strong sense that this mission could succeed and cripple the Americans. No…not cripple, but destroy the soul of the American cause.

Marcus paused in the doorway and entered. Tonight, he
attended a dinner party hosted by General Clinton. Clinton had earned his reputation of being a reluctant host, entertaining only because it was a requirement of his position. Marcus did not expect the event to be an elaborate affair, but he would enjoy the company.

Lieutenant
Colonel Archibald Campbell accompanied Marcus. Lieutenant Colonel Campbell had only recently been released in a prisoner exchange with the American Ethan Allen. Marcus had known Campbell before Campbell’s capture during the first confrontations in Boston more than two years ago.

Marcus found Campbell to be exceedingly professional and competent. He had no issue
s when Clinton had assigned him to work alongside the Lieutenant Colonel on the upcoming Southern Campaign.

For the last few weeks, Marcus had been immersed in the strategic plans for the invasion. It was what he did best—determining the weakness in the enemy. A dangerous game at best
, for it meant he had to infiltrate his opponent. He had to go behind enemy lines to collect the information.

It had been decided that Marcus would be leaving shortly for St. Augustine, Florida
, in preparation for the British invasion of Georgia. The decision had not surprised Marcus. He had volunteered.

Working under Clinton, Marcus had come to the conclusion he would do the most good in the field. Marcus found Clinton a capable field general, but he also discovered the man lacked confidence. Clinton had an aversion to being questioned
, and seemed to surround himself with those who flattered him.

Marcus recognized quickly he would not be a favorite of the general. Unlike Andre, Marcus was not prone to undue flattery. Marcus did not fault Andre.
Of all those in Clinton’s inner circle, he was the only one Marcus could abide.

Marcus had conversed with Andre over the plot in depth and outlined a possible scenario with the defection of Arnold.

“Patience,” Marcus cautioned. “Most important aspect to remember is that one can only lead the horse to water, but one can’t make him drink. Don’t force an issue. Lay out a plan to satisfy the man’s ego. Convince him that this is the best course of action to take. A brave choice. Honorable. All the while, doing whatever it takes to make him turn.”

Marcus laid out his connections
: who to trust, who could be beneficial. But above all else…secrecy. “Tell no one else, only those essential to the plot. Never use real names. Andre, never. Code your communications.”

“
It goes without saying,” Andre agreed. “I have made the necessary arrangements.”

Andre had set the plan in motion. Marcus recognized that he would be in the backdrop of the scheme and well he should. It was not his.

Campbell and Marcus arrived a little after seven. The officers had been welcomed by Clinton’s housekeeper, Mrs. Mary Baddeley. A short, attractive woman with bright eyes, she seemed the competent sort. Marcus imagined Clinton would not have it any other way.

The lady led the men into the drawing room where the general was to be found. Mrs. Baddeley lingered beside Clinton for a moment before
she mingled with the other guests. Marcus had heard that Clinton leaned heavily on the skills of his housekeeper, far beyond maintaining his household.

From Marcus
’ brief observation, Clinton’s relationship with Mrs. Baddeley delved into a more personal nature. Marcus gave it little thought. Such arrangements had long been deemed acceptable within the army. Though the manner in which one indulged in their affairs differed. Whereas General Howe made no secret of his American mistress, General Clinton had chosen to be more discreet.

As Marcus glanced
around the room, he made note of Tarleton and Bradford close by Andre’s side. Despite Tarleton’s prowess on the battlefield, Marcus cared little for the man. Tarleton was too ambitious by half. Moreover, there had been an incident with a young lady that had been swept under the rug. Tarleton held little respect for the colonists, and treated the women as objects for his pleasure. Honor had little to do with his actions.

Marcus had learned long ago that he did not have to like a man to fight alongside of him. This was war. Fighting on a battlefield brought out the savage nature of a man.

Marcus took a step back. He needed to relax. It had been the intent of the dinner. A diversion from the late hours spent in preparation for the upcoming Southern Campaign. The importance of the assault could not be understated. It was essential to the war for the British to reclaim their stake in the South.

His mind w
andered back to his mission. Only this morning, he received word from the former governor of Florida, Patrick Tonyn. He pledged the support of the Loyalists, which would play a vital part in maintaining the South after the invasion.

Tonyn informed him that the Loyalists support was great in the South. They waited only for the British to make their presence known. Marcus was set to depart for his mission within the week to make an evaluation.

He would go without any undue notice. It had been their intent for Marcus not to call attention to his presence. Marcus understood the relative importance of not calling attention to himself until his departure.

Deep in conversation with Campbell, he had not observed the entrance of a lady. It was her voice that made him turn.

Years of training hid his surprise at the sight. Susanna Wick Millbury. He had been under the impression she was no longer in New York…that she had gone to England to reunite with her sister and mother.

Marcus glanced
over at Andre, who looked amused. Marcus suspected her presence was planned. He was furious. He didn’t like getting played, but he had no time to contemplate the reason. Her arm linked to a silver-haired gentleman, Susanna moved to greet him.

The man did not smile, but was elegantly dressed with a matching coat and velvet breeches of a dark brown texture. It did nothing to hide his redden
ed face or protruding stomach under his white waistcoat. Marcus recognized him well enough: Oswyn Millbury, Susanna’s husband, prominent businessman and well-known Loyalist.

An arranged marriage. Not a bad sort from what he understood about the man, but he doubted he could ever make Susanna happy. Perhaps, though, he thought, the woman wasn
’t destined to be happy. He couldn’t help but remember her first husband and the nightmare it had become when her brother murdered the man in front of her.

Tonight, she moved with ease up beside her husband. She looked angelically beautiful in her
soft blue satin gown, but her mannerisms conveyed she wished she was anywhere but at the dinner party. Then, her somber blue eyes met his.

“
Hello, Susanna.”

As had
Marcus, she had not been prepared for the meeting. Shock radiated from her being. Suddenly, tears filled her eyes; her breathing became rapid. Color drained from her face.

Marcus sensed she was on the verge of losing her composure. He had no desire for their meeting to become a spectacle.

Her husband paused and looked confused at his wife’s reaction. “My dear, are you well?”

Susanna swayed and gasped for air. Despite her husband
’s concern, Marcus lost his patience. He took hold of Susanna’s arm and whisked her away from the stares of the crowded room. Mrs. Baddeley reacted in step with Marcus and led the way down the hall to General Clinton’s library.

The library was
an overly spacious rectangular room. Mrs. Baddeley opened a window and allowed air to circulate. Marcus led Susanna to the sofa. She sat and leaned against the back with her hand covering her mouth until her breathing calmed.

“
I will go and get her something to drink.” Mrs. Baddeley tried to smile. “I have to apologize. The drawing room has become overly warm, quite suffocating.”

“
It is no one’s fault, Mrs. Baddeley.” Marcus sat down beside Susanna. A million thoughts ran rampant in his mind. He had held to his honor and hadn’t pursued Hannah through diplomatic ranks, but what if Susanna knew where she was…how to get in touch with her. His attention drawn back to the overwrought woman hovering over him, he went on. “I’m certain Susanna will compose herself readily.”

“
I’m certain she will.”

A male behind Marcus
tapped him on his shoulder. Marcus turned. Oswyn Millbury stood before him.

“
I believe I can care for my wife, now, General.”

Marcus detected anxiety for Susanna in Millbury
’s tone, but also a distinct undertone he had not appreciated Marcus’ display.

“
But of course, Mr. Millbury. I reacted only out of concern. I had thought her in England with her mother and sister. Being an old family friend…”

“
I know who you are, General Durham.”

“
I am fine,” Susanna interjected rather sharply. Color returned to her cheeks. Her senses revived. She reached up and took her husband’s hand. “Be a dear, Oswyn, and sit beside me for a moment. It is only the emotions of seeing Colonel…General Durham once more.”

Marcus rose
and allowed room for Millbury. He made no motion to leave the room. Instead, he studied Susanna.

Distraught by the sight of him, she had used her husband as a barrier. His brief hope that she would know Hannah
’s whereabouts quickly dissipated. Susanna had no desire to see him.

Millbury looked up at Marcus. With his hand, he made a rebuffing motion.
“General Durham, I have to ask you to leave. You are upsetting my wife.”

“
I beg your utmost pardon, Mr. Millbury, but I, too am concerned about Susanna. Her cousin, Hannah…”

“
Don’t,” Susanna cried. “Don’t mention her name. You have no right. No right at all.”

The venom in her voice made Marcus pause.
“Susanna, her loss pains me greatly. You out of everyone should understand…”

She would have none of it. She stood and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Understand? I understand only that she is dead.” She took a step back. Her voice rose to the point of hysteria. “Do you really want me to say the words? Yes, I blame you. If not for you, Hannah would be alive. Alive! I cannot bear to look at you!”

“
Susanne,” Millbury said in a softer voice. He rose beside her. “I believe it best we depart. I will make our excuses.”

Marcus made no more protest. He watched the couple depart. Left alone with his thoughts, he made no attempt to return to the dinner party. He strolled over to the window and stared out into the blackness
on this moonless night.

Marcus cared little. He saw nothing but her face. Hannah.

He wondered how he was ever going to put her behind him. Hannah haunted him. Why couldn’t he let go?

“
Well done.”

Marcus whirled around to the voice. Andre had entered the room and closed the door behind him. He clapped his hands together in a slow manner.

“Wonderful performance.”

Marcus went white with anger. It took all Marcus
’ self-control not to wipe that foolish grin off Andre’s face. He did not immediately answer Andre. His ire grew with each breath he took.

“
You better have answers for this, Major. I am not a fool. I know when I have been played. I swear I will not be a goddamn pawn to be moved at your will!”

“
Then I will explain,” Andre said in a calm fashion. He walked around the oversized chair and took a seat. “Sit, please.”

Conscious of his rank, Marcus was not amused by Andre
’s actions. Andre would not have made a move without the consent of Clinton. The fact did not sit well with Marcus. He did not move, but spoke directly to Andre.

“
Obviously, you were seeking answers of some sort. What? That I would have told Susanna that Hannah still…” Marcus’ words faded as comprehension sank deep within his consciousness. “You needed to know if Susanna realized that Hannah still lived. Why?”

Andre nodded,
and then chuckled. “To be honest, I did not expect it to be such a spectacle. The ice maiden’s emotions thawed.”

Suddenly, the thought hit him of Andre
’s purpose. Andre wanted Susanne. Knowing Andre, Marcus realized that in Andre’s eyes Susanne would be a perfect mistress for him while he was in New York, except she had the connection to Hannah.

“
This was personal for you. Why?”

“
I believe that would be obvious. I have interest in the woman. Given her family’s past, I had to make certain she has none of the ties her cousin had.”

“
If she had known Hannah lived, someone would have had to tell her. You wanted to make sure that person wasn’t me,” Marcus growled. “Would it not have been simpler to have asked me? Do you not believe I am a man of my word?”

“
I believe you to be one of the most honorable of men I have had the pleasure of associating with, General. I look up to you and have learned a great deal from you. I told you when I met you, that I will always be in your debt for freeing me from my captivity. I, too, am a man of my word.