Less Than a Gentleman (14 page)

Caroline whisked out of the curtains. “Edward!”

He yelped and jumped a foot in the air. The papers flew from his hands and scattered all over the floor.

“Godsookers, Aunt Caroline. I almost wet myself.”

“What are you doing here?” Caroline snatched the papers off the floor.

“I’m a spy,” Edward announced.

Matthias banged his head on the wall.

“What was that?” Edward asked.

Caroline paused in her search for fallen papers. “I don’t know. It sounded like it came from the wall.”

“It might be the ghost,” Edward whispered.

“There is no such thing as ghosts,” Virginia’s voice came from behind the settee.

“Mama, what are you doing here?”

“She thought she was going to spy,” Caroline said. “But neither one of you is spying. Do you understand?”

“But I want to be a spy,” Edward grumbled. “Like Papa.”

Matthias rubbed his sore forehead. The father was a spy, too? Was the entire family insane?

“Heaven forbid you should emulate your father.” Caroline stacked the papers on the desk. “Do you know he was captured? He was almost hanged, drawn, and quartered.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Virginia’s voice pleaded from behind the settee.

Caroline winced and touched her mouth.

“Why don’t we all spy?” Edward asked. “We could make a schedule and take turns.”

“No!” Caroline wrapped her shawl tighter about her shoulders. “ ’Tis too dangerous for you.”

“I’m not afraid of Captain
Stickman
,” Edward boasted. “He’s so bony I could—”

“Enough,” Caroline interrupted him. “We’ve been here too long. We should leave.”

Thank God for small miracles! Matthias was beginning to think the threesome would settle down for a game of whist.

“I hate to say this,” Virginia responded from behind the settee, “but I—I’m unable to get up.”

“What?” Caroline dashed to the settee.

“I need more room to get up,” Virginia explained.

Edward snickered. “You mean you’re stuck?”

Caroline glared at him. “ ’Tis not amusing.”

Matthias shook his head.
What next?

Caroline grabbed one end of the settee. “Edward, take the other end.”

They moved the settee forward. Edward dropped his end with a clunk. Matthias groaned silently. The British had to be dead drunk not to hear them. Caroline and her nephew heaved Virginia to her feet, then moved the settee back.

“Come, let’s get out of here.” Caroline grabbed the lit candlestick. Virginia and Edward each took an extinguished one, and the threesome scurried from the room.

Matthias waited awhile to see if any more would-be spies showed up, perhaps the stable boy or barnyard cat. Nothing would surprise him now.

He snapped the peephole door shut, then opened the bookcase door to enter the library. Unfortunately, it was too dark to read the papers on the desk.

He peeked out the curtains and waited for the guard to pass. Then he opened the curtains and returned to the desk. Yes, with the moonlight he could make out the words.
Damn.
Caroline had restacked the papers with some pages upside-down. Those women were asking for trouble.

He righted the papers and put them in order. Most were simple requisitions for supplies, but one was important—a schedule for the supply barges on the Black River. He grabbed a clean sheet of paper and quickly copied the information. Then he shut the curtains.

As he returned to the passageway, he folded his copy and slipped it into his coat. It was still his mission, one way or another, to stop the supplies from getting through.

But right now, he had a more pressing mission to pursue—the demise of the Munro family’s secret vocation. He doubted Edward would spy again. His mother and aunt would forbid it. And hopefully, Virginia would realize how unsuited she was to the task. But Caroline—that feisty firebrand would be the devil to stop. She had to be dissuaded immediately.

And he was just the man to do it.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

C
aroline shoved a chair against her bedchamber door. No, not good enough. It hadn’t stopped Haversham from entering two weeks ago. And tonight there were redcoats on the third floor. Drunken redcoats, which probably made them even more dangerous. It was too risky to give them a sleeping potion every night. They might start to suspect.

She dragged a table to the door, then stacked two wooden chairs on top. It would have to do. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need the knife hidden beneath her pillow.

As she paced about the room, the candlestick beside her bed cast lurching shadows on the walls, disjointed and unsettled. Just like her nerves. She hated to admit it, but she had failed. Her first attempt at espionage had yielded nothing.

She strode to the window and gazed at the half-full moon, shrouded in misty clouds. Too many had died for freedom to give up now. Too many like Roger. Tomorrow she would continue. She shuddered at the thought of further flirtation with Captain Hickman.

A soft tap sounded at her door.

She gasped. Should she answer or pretend to be asleep? She dashed to the candle to blow out the flame, then hesitated. No, it was better to see the enemy.

Another knock, a little louder. “Caroline.” A man’s voice.

She dug under her pillow and pulled out the knife.

The door jiggled. “Caroline, let me in.”

He sounded familiar. Could it be? “Who is it?”

“Who the hell would you expect? Does the name Haversham sound familiar?”

“Oh.” She exhaled with relief and dropped the knife on the bed. “Just a minute.”

She dashed to the barricade and lifted the first chair down. So the mysterious butler had finally returned. She grasped the second chair and paused with it in mid-air. What could he possibly want? Another kiss before vanishing for a fortnight? Did he have any idea how much she had worried about him? As if she didn’t have enough to worry about. How dare he appear and disappear without warning or explanation? And the worst part—he made her heart long for impossible things. Love and joy, when reality offered only fear and danger.

She set the chair on the floor. “What do you want, Haversham?”

“Inside, dammit.”

“I’m not at all certain I want to see you.”

He answered by shoving against the door.

“Wait.” She dragged the table away from the door. “We shouldn’t make too much noise. And I must say it is a bit rude of you to barge into my room like this.”

He stepped inside and shut the door. “Would you welcome me if I were Captain Hickman?”

“Ha! If you’ve come to insult me, you can leave at once.” When he turned, she thought for a moment that he was leaving, but he merely pushed the table back against the door.

He stepped toward her, his eyes narrowed. “We need to talk. Actually, I need to talk. You need to listen.”

Was he angry? Why? She was the one with a legitimate complaint. He had said he would return in a few days, not a few weeks. She lifted her chin. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m not properly dressed.”

His gaze swept down to her bare feet, then slowly inched back up. “If you’re so concerned with propriety, why were you wandering about the house in your nightclothes?”

She blinked. “I . . . you must be mistaken.”

A muscle rippled in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. “It was a mistake, Caroline, for you to go to the library and rifle through the captain’s papers.”

She gasped. How could he possibly know? “That—that’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is your sister and Edward attempting the same thing.”

How did he know
? She stepped back. “No, that’s silly.”

“Silly is hiding behind the curtains. The guard outside could have seen you.”

She retreated another step. “How do you know all this?”

“I know everything. I know you’re planning to spy on the redcoats. I know you flirted with that damned captain at dinner.” He advanced toward her again.

“There’s no harm in a little . . . harmless flirtation.”

He motioned to the table. “If it was so harmless, why do you feel obliged to barricade yourself in?”

“A simple precaution in case he misinterprets my behavior.”

Haversham’s eyes flashed with anger. “Hickman said you were almost in his lap. How do you expect him to interpret
that
?”

“He’s exaggerating.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of it. “You talked to Hickman?”

“No, but I know he plans to seduce you.”

“How could you know that?”

“I know
everything
!”

“Well, hallelujah!” She raised her hands in the air. “Jehovah himself has visited me in all his glory. Will you please explain how you know
everything
?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I work in mysterious ways.”

“Ha!” When she swatted a hand at his chest, he grabbed her wrist. “Let me go.” She tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held fast.

“No. Not until you swear to give up spying.”

“I don’t answer to you. I don’t even know who you are. A butler? I highly doubt it. And you said you would be back in a few days, but it has taken more than two weeks. Why should I trust anything you say?”

“Because I care about you, dammit!” He pulled her into his arms.

She shoved against his chest, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.
He cared about her?
Tears stung her eyes. Haversham had come back, and he cared about her.

He cradled her head against his chest, and she felt the vibrations of his quickly pounding heart. Obviously, he was agitated.
Because he cares about you.
She leaned into him and let the warmth of his body seep into her. His arms encircled her like a sheltering cocoon, safe and protected.

“Caroline.” He rubbed his chin against her brow. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she whispered. His embrace was heaven. “My God.”

“Are you referring to me?”

She scoffed. “You arrogant—”

“Go ahead. Call me a demented buffoon. I was a fool to think I could stay away from you.”

“I was afraid I’d never see you again.” She blinked to keep from crying. “I was afraid you had joined the army.”

“Would that be so terrible?”

“Yes!” She pulled away from him, then grabbed the shawl off her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I don’t want to lose anyone else to the war.”

“You won’t lose me.”

With a silent groan, she wandered to the window. Roger had sworn he would come back, too. Since Haversham knew other soldiers in the area, he might already be engaged in some sort of military activity. She’d be a fool to set herself up for more heartache. “ ’Tis late. You should go.”

“I will leave once we have reached an agreement.” He paced toward her. “I forbid you from spying.”

“Forbid?”

“Yes, and I expect you to obey.”

She gave him a wry look. “Obey?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it with an exasperated expression. “ ’Tis a shame that
you
cannot join the army. Then you would learn to follow orders.”

She shrugged. That was highly doubtful.

He eased closer to her. “Will you cease with your spying as a personal favor to me?”

The entreating look he was giving her was clearly intended to melt her heart. She wasn’t about to let him know how well it worked. She smiled sweetly at him. “Will you cease with your bullying as a personal favor to me?”

He winced. “I’m not a bully.”

“Good. Then we have that settled. You may go.”

His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. “We have nothing settled.” He crossed his arms, frowning at her. “I cannot leave until you agree to stop spying.”

“Then you will be here a long time.”

“You are a trying woman, Miss Munro.”

“I’m an independent woman. That sounds much better than the term
spinster
, don’t you think?”

“Honestly, I’m amazed you haven’t been snatched up.”

Likewise.
She glanced at him. The rascal was too handsome for words.

“Of course most husbands would expect a wife who could
obey
.”

Her mouth twitched. “I’m not interested in most husbands.”

His eyes glinted with determination as he studied her. “You said you were engaged once before? To a soldier who died at Brandywine?”

She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I’d rather not talk about him.”

“Do you still mourn for him?”

“This has nothing to do with Roger.”

“Is he the reason you insist on risking your neck? Are you doing it out of love for him?”

“ ’Tis not love!” With a groan, she propped her elbows on the windowsill and covered her face.

“Then you don’t . . .”

When Haversham paused, she wondered why she had blurted out the truth. Was it another case of her saying things that she shouldn’t? No, it was more than that. There was a part of her that yearned to share her darkest secrets with him. She had to know—would his feelings for her survive if he knew her worst sin?

“If you don’t feel love for him,” he murmured, then he drew in a sharp breath. “Guilt.”

She nodded, lowering her hands.

“I understand guilt all too well.” He touched the ivory-inlaid handle of a knife wedged beneath his belt. “These are difficult times. We have to make terrible decisions, and then we have to live with—”

“I killed him.” She closed her eyes briefly. There, she’d said it. Would Haversham leave and never come back?

“Your . . . betrothed? I thought he died in battle.”

“He did. But it was my fault.”

“How? Did you personally bayonet the man?”

“I might as well have.”

“Tell me what happened.”

She took a deep breath and paced across the room. “It was after the victories at Trenton and Princeton. Everyone was excited. We actually believed the war would be over soon.”

“I remember.”

“There was a young man in our village, Roger Dooley, who asked to court me. I told him . . .” It had seemed so inspired and patriotic at the time. How could she have been so foolishly irresponsible?

“What?”

She wandered toward the bed. “I told him I could only love a man who was willing to fight for freedom.” She wrapped her arms around a bedpost and leaned against it. “Roger left the next day to join the army. Brandywine was his first battle. And his last.”

Haversham grimaced, but remained silent.

“You can imagine how his family reacted. They accused me of murdering their son. And they were right.” Hot tears burned her eyes. “If only I had kept my blasted mouth shut.”

Haversham strode toward her. “You are not to blame. A man makes his own decisions in life.”

She blinked to keep the tears at bay. “That’s what my brother, Fergus, said. He told the Dooleys in rather colorful language to leave me alone.”

“Good.”

“No. Everyone started gossiping about a feud between the Munros and the Dooleys. Roger’s brother picked a fight with Fergus, and Fergus broke his nose.”

“I think I like your brother.”

“I like him, too.” Her attempt at a smile crumbled into a sob, and a few tears rolled down her cheek. “The Dooleys were placing horrible notices about me in the local newspaper. My father told Fergus to ignore it, that it would pass, but Fergus disagreed, and they had a terrible argument. Father smashed a chair, he was so angry. Fergus ran off to join the frontier militia and hasn’t come back. He left because of me.”

“Caroline.” Haversham pulled her into his arms.

“I destroyed two families,” she whispered.

“No.” He rubbed her back. “Your fiancé and your brother made their own decisions. You’re not responsible for them.”

As much as she wanted to absolve herself of all guilt, she knew in her heart she was partly to blame. The burden would always be there, but it felt a little lighter for having shared it.

And something miraculous was happening. Haversham knew her worst sin, and he hadn’t run away. He was still here. Defending her. Supporting her. His chest felt warm and strong. Dependable. Comfortable. It moved gently each time he breathed.

She wiped her cheeks dry. “Father thought the Dooleys would calm down if I left. So I went to Charles Town to live with my sister.”

He burrowed his nose in her hair and whispered in her ear, “Then you came to me.”

She felt a prickling sensation shimmer down her arms. “I was afraid you would think ill of me.”

“Never.” He nudged her hair back with his nose and kissed her behind the ear. “You’re a beautiful, kind, and clever woman.”

He still cared for her. Her heart swelled. “Haversham.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Caroline.” He trailed kisses across her brow.

Good Lord, this was the man she wanted. He incited such fierce emotions. She felt as strong as a conqueror, yet ached to surrender. She was powerful and vulnerable at the same time, hot and cold all at once. Her skin chilled with gooseflesh, yet a burst of heat shot from her chest down to her belly.

He nibbled a path down her neck.

“Haversham.” She shivered as his tongue tickled her. “For pity’s sake, I’m still calling you Haversham. Do you have a given name?”

With a frown he stepped back. “Call me . . . Thomas.”

“Thomas.” She sighed. “Please don’t become a soldier.”

He winced. “I thought you could only love a man who is willing to fight for freedom.”

“It sounds good in theory, but the reality is too frightening and painful.”

“That’s how I feel about your spying.”

“I have the right to risk my own neck.” She noticed for the first time he was in his stockings. “What happened to your shoes?”

“They walked off.” His eyes twinkled as he stepped closer. “Shall we continue with our previous activity?”

“How did you know what I was doing downstairs? If you were in the library, I would have seen you.”

“I liked the position we were in before.” He pulled her shawl off and dropped it on the bed.

“You’re ignoring me.”

“On the contrary, you’re all I’m thinking about.” His arms encircled her waist.