The Gentle Rebel (32 page)

They were eating at an inn, and Adam was debating some theological point with Greene. The two had become good friends, differing on small matters of doctrine, but each sensing the goodness of the other. A young man in civilian clothes came in and asked, “Mr. Nathan Winslow?”

Nathan nodded, took the note he presented, and read it. The messenger, a tall young man still in his teens, waited, and finally Nathan looked up and asked, “Can you take an answer?”

“Yes, sir.”

Nathan got up and went to the proprietor, and borrowing a quill, scratched a note on the back of the one he’d just received. He returned to the table, gave it to the messenger, who said, “I’ll see she gets it, sir,” and left.

The rest of them had tried not to appear curious, but Laddie blurted out, “It’s Abigail, isn’t it?”

Nathan flushed and said, “I’ll have to be gone for a little while. Father, could you get me a pass for two days?”

Laddie stared at him, her face pale, and she turned to Adam. “Don’t do it! He nearly got hanged last time he went to see that woman!”

“Nathan, it’s too dangerous to go into Boston,” Adam said quietly. “If you’ll just wait a few days, I suspect you can walk in with the rest of us.”

“I can’t wait, sir,” Nathan replied, his lips pale. “I have to go.”

Adam stared at him, then nodded heavily. “I’ll get you a pass. Come along.”

“You are a bloody fool, Nathan Winslow!” Laddie cried out, and there was such anger in her that the words were blurred.

Molly watched as Nathan stared at Laddie. “I have to do it, Laddie.” Then he turned and followed his father out of the room.

Molly got up and said abruptly, “Laddie, would you come with me? Excuse us please, Mr. Greene.”

“Of course.” Greene rose and watched Laddie follow Mrs. Winslow out of the inn, then sat there for a long time, staring at the table. He was thinking,
Winslow’s a fool!—but then, so am I!

Laddie followed Nathan’s mother blindly out of the inn and down the street. She wanted to scream, but bit her lips, and by the time she and Molly entered the hotel room, Laddie was in control.

Molly took off her coat and went to look out the window. She stood there so long that Laddie grew nervous, saying finally, “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mrs. Winslow?”

Molly Winslow turned from the window and came to stand directly before her. Looking into her eyes, she said, “I wanted to ask you about Nathan . . .”

She paused and Laddie asked quickly, “Yes? What about him?”

“I wanted to ask you, Laddie—are you in love with him—as Daniel Greene is in love with you?”

The room grew still, the silence broken only by the sound of a soldier singing outside, and then Laddie fell into Molly’s arms, crying as if her heart would break: “I don’t know! I don’t know! Oh, I’m so mixed up! Help me!”

Molly stood there holding the shaking body of the girl in her arms, praying,
God help us all!

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

AT THE RED LION

“When did you find out about me?”

Molly had waited, holding the weeping girl until finally the sobs had ceased. She gave Laddie a handkerchief and watched silently as the girl wiped her face, then said with a small smile, “When you left Virginia, Laddie.”

“What?”

“I suspected it for a time—but when I made you hug me just before you left—that made me sure.” She sighed and reached out to touch a tear-stained cheek. “Men are so blind!” she snorted with a crisp shake of her head. “See just what they expect to see! Oh, I know you put on around men, stomp and swing your arms and such. But I think when you were with me, you forgot your act. You remember when you helped me cook supper? Child, there’s not a man in the world who could peel a potato or move around as daintily as you did! The thought came to me, and so I watched you. Then when you were leaving, I hugged you real tight.” Her lips turned up, and there was a gleam in her eyes as she said, “I’ve not had much experience hugging men, but I
knew
it was no man I was hugging!”

“Oh, Mrs. Winslow, I’m so miserable!”

“Well, that Quaker,
he
knows you’re not a man,” Molly said. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you. And you’ve kept Nathan fooled—and now you’re in love with him—and Friend Daniel Greene is in love with you! Sounds like a real bad play or book, doesn’t it? What’s your name?”

“Julie Sampson.” She looked up and said, “Can I tell you all of it?”

“Of course, Julie.” Molly sat there, listening to the girl, and when all was told, she smiled and said, “I guess you’ve got two mothers running scared—Sister Greene and me.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry! Nathan’s nutty over that Howland woman! He’s put his head in a noose
twice
for her—and she doesn’t give a tuppence for him!”

“You don’t know that.”

“I
do!
” Laddie shook her head violently, and paced the floor like a caged animal. “Why, if she cared
anything
about him, she’d not ask him to stick his head into the lion’s jaws, would she?”

“Women have a lot of power over men, child,” Molly said thoughtfully. “If he loves this woman, he’ll go to her, no matter what it costs.”

“I wish she were
dead!
”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Molly said. “Are you in love with Nathan?”

“Why, how could I be? He doesn’t even know I’m a girl!”

“I didn’t ask you how
he
felt, Julie—I asked if you loved
him.
”

“I—I don’t know. I thought I did—but then I met Daniel—and he treats me like a woman—and he does care for me.”

“I see.” Molly looked long into the eyes of the girl, then said, “Nathan will have to know.”

“No!”

“Yes, for your own sake, and for his.”

“He’ll hate me!”

“That may be—but he’ll never love you, will he?—not until he knows you’re there to be loved—that you’re not a boy but a lovely woman.”

Laddie began to tremble, and as she looked up, her enormous eyes and soft lips trembling, Molly thought,
Nathan is my son, but he must be the blindest man on earth! This lovely child—and he never saw!
But she said, “You did what you
had to do, child, to escape your uncle. But you’re not alone now. No matter what Nathan feels, Adam and I will help you—and besides, I think from what I saw of Friend Daniel Greene, it would take a pretty powerful man to shake him loose from you!”

Laddie shook her head, then moaned, “Oh, if Nathan only hadn’t gone to Boston! When he got taken before, I nearly died!”

“We’ll have to pray, Julie,” Molly said. “Do you think God answers prayer?”

“Oh, I know He does!”

“Then we’ll pray that he’ll be safe—and that God will open his eyes. He’s lost his way, Julie,” she stated quietly. “God may have to put him flat on his back with no way to turn before he finds his way.”

Sitting outside the ancient inn that shed yellow bars of light from its windows, Nathan thought of the note. As he waited in the darkness, he pictured the words that were burned across his brain. There was no signature, but he knew the writing. He had brought along a brace of pistols and kept to the back roads to avoid patrols. After darkness fell, he rode to the inn, let a hostler take his horse, then kept to the shadows of the stable, watching the road.

It was not more than thirty minutes after seven when a closed carriage drew up, and Nathan’s eyes picked out the driver—the same young man who had brought the message. He pulled the team to a stop, leaned down and said something, then nodded and got down. He hitched the team and walked at a leisurely pace into The Red Lion Inn.

For five minutes, Nathan stood there in the darkness, wary,
suspecting a trap, but nothing changed and he moved to the window and saw the driver at a table, settled down with a stein of beer.

Cautiously he moved to the coach and peered inside. He could see nothing, so he put his hand on the pistol in his belt and whispered softly, “Abigail?”

“Nathan!” The door opened, and he quickly stepped up and practically fell into Abigail’s arms! She clutched him, pulling his head down, and her soft lips met his in a long kiss.

“Abigail, what’s the matter?” he asked urgently when she drew back. “I’ve had a bad time—thinking all kinds of things.”

She took his hand and held it to her cheek, then kissed the back of it, saying, “That’s sweet, Nathan! But does there have to be something
wrong?
Can’t it be that I just long to be with you?”

He thought of the note, and realized that it actually said nothing about her being in trouble. “I guess I just assumed you needed me.”

Her perfume was heady, and she turned toward him and put her arms around his neck. The rounded softness of her body disturbed him, and her breath was sweet as she whispered, “Nathan, when I heard you were off on a dangerous mission and might not come back, I almost lost my mind!” He wondered how she knew about the mission, but he was so overcome by her embrace that he could not follow the thought.

The dim light from a crescent moon turned the snow silver and the yellow light from the lanterns on the front of The Red Lion were reflected in her eyes, which he could now see faintly.

He looked at her face, and the touch of her hands on his face distracted him. He sat there holding her, and her perfume seemed to drug his senses. He whispered hoarsely, “Abigail—I’ve thought about you every day.”

“And I’ve thought of you every day, too, sweet—and every night!” She pulled him closer, and her lips brushed his cheek
as she whispered, “I know you must think I’m shameless, but I’ve been so afraid!”

“But—I thought you and Paul . . . ?”

“Oh, Nathan, you know women are vulnerable! Paul is an attractive man, and I enjoy his company—but I didn’t dream you’d let that frighten you off.”

He felt suddenly weak and drew back, and then he said dryly, “Well, I wasn’t exactly
frightened
off, Abigail. I was dragged off by a troop of dragoons—almost to the gallows!”

“I know, sweet, I know! It must have been awful!”

He laughed and said, “Well, I’ve enjoyed a few things more than waiting to be hanged.”

“I had a pass from General Gage to see you—but I think that friend of yours took it!”

“He certainly did!” Nathan remembered again how he had felt when Laddie had come to him in prison, and he said slowly, “He saved my life, Abigail.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have been executed,” she said quickly. “Father had it all arranged with the general to get you pardoned—but you escaped before we could get there.”

“Sorry to spoil your plan,” Nathan said with a smile. “But at the time it seemed a little frivolous to hang around until the execution.”

“It’s so terrible! Let’s don’t even
think
about it, dear!” She leaned against him, her soft body sending involuntary signals along his nerves. “You’re not angry with me, are you?”

“No, of course not.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be—but I was afraid that you’d never come back. That’s why I sent for you.”

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“Just Justin, the driver—and he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He sat there thinking; then he said, “It’s a bad time for us, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I get so tired of it all—but it can’t last forever, can it, Nathan?”

“It can last longer than I’d like—and it can be unpleasant for you.”

“Father says we ought to leave—to go to New York—but Paul’s father says it would be just as bad for loyalists there.”

“The only safe place would be England, Abigail—or maybe Canada. Father is worried about Uncle Charles. He told him to leave at once for Canada, but he said he was too old to leave his home.”

“Oh, Nathan, Father isn’t well, and I’m so afraid! I don’t know anything about politics—and everyone is saying that if Washington comes in with his army, we’ll all be slaughtered!”

He laughed and put his arm around her. She was trembling and her weakness, as much as her beauty, stirred him deep inside, and he said, “You won’t be slaughtered, Abigail.”

“Nathan, you’ll take care of me?”

She lifted her face, and her eyes had a golden gleam, the reflection of the lantern light, and he could no more help kissing her than he could help living. Her lips were soft, but they moved under his hungrily, and her arms drew him frantically closer, until finally he drew back, saying roughly, “Abigail—don’t push me too far.”

“I love you, Nathan,” she whispered. “I know I’ve been too bold—but I—I was afraid I’d lost you!”

He sat there and for an hour they talked, and finally she said, “I’ve got to get home before I’m missed.” They had embraced several times, and she pushed at her hair, laughing, “Nathan, when will I see you again?”

“It will be hard to arrange,” he said, then added, “I’ll be here again in three nights—that’s as soon as I can get away.”

“Oh, darling!” she breathed, and lifted her face for a final kiss. “That’s so far away!”

Nathan thought of the guns they’d brought and said quickly, “If there’s an attack on the town, you must get away at once, you and your family.”

“But—what if we can’t get out of town?”

“I don’t think there’ll be any trouble. General Washington has built discipline into the troops.”

“But—everyone says that we’ll be attacked by the patriots!” she said.

“If the city falls, I’ll be there as soon as the lines are open. Stay in the house, and I’ll get an order from headquarters giving you some protection.”

“Oh, Nathan, I knew you’d take care of me!” She gave herself to him in one final embrace, then said, “Go tell Justin I’m ready, will you, sweet?”

He stepped out, went to the inn, and caught the eye of the driver. As he stood up, Nathan walked quickly to the barn, and he heard the team gallop out of town as he took his horse from the hostler.

The roads as he came nearer Cambridge were closely watched, and he had to show his pass to three patrols. He thought of what he’d said to Abigail about leaving town, and thought,
Too late—they’ll never get through!