Valley Forge (5 page)

"I think it's far too dangerous," she cautioned.

"Not if we take care."

"You should stay here."

"No," said Elizabeth. "Living in that house is intolerable."

"Then use your influence with General Burgoyne. Ask him to find us more suitable quarters."

"He's not able to find proper accommodations for himself, Nan, let alone for anyone else. General Burgoyne is responsible for the whole army. It would be unfair to burden him with our problems."

"Have you told him that you mean to escape?"

"Of course not."

"He'll be very upset when he realizes that you are gone."

"I'm the least of his worries."

"No, you're not. He's very fond of you."

"He'll hardly notice that I've gone missing."

"I'll make sure that he does," said Nan. "General Burgoyne is very protective. If he knew what you had in mind, he'd do everything in his power to talk you out of it."

"That's why I could never confide in him," said Elizabeth. "My mind is made up. I simply can't stay here any longer, Nan. Given the chance to leave this dreadful place, I'll take it—whatever the risks. Why not reconsider and come with us?"

"I'm too old and too frightened of horses."

"So what will you do?"

"Remain here until the ships arrive," said Nan ruefully, "though I'm not looking forward to returning home alone, I can tell you. Your parents will never forgive me for letting you go off like this. It's sheer madness. Look what happened last time—you and Captain Skoyles were lucky to escape with your lives."

"We'll not put ourselves in that position again."

"How can you be so sure? It's hundreds of miles to New York. You may meet all kinds of perils along the way."

"Captain Skoyles is used to traveling through enemy territory," said Elizabeth with a note of pride. "I trust him implicitly."

"Stay here," Nan pleaded. "Where I can keep an eye on you."

"No. We simply have to leave."

Elizabeth stopped and hugged her maid. They had been through so much together over so many years that it would be a huge wrench to go their separate ways, but the urge to escape—and the need to be with Jamie Skoyles—was too powerful to resist. Nan would have to be left behind. A tear rolled down the older woman's cheek and Elizabeth was on the point of crying herself. They walked briskly on. It was minutes before conversation was resumed.

"What am I to say to your parents?" asked Nan.

"Tell them what they already know—that their daughter is a foolish, headstrong young woman who acts on impulse. Have you forgotten how horrified my mother was when I told her I wanted to come to America in the first place? Yet she couldn't hold me back. I felt that I had to be with Major Featherstone."

"That was different. You and the major were engaged to marry."

"Yes," said Elizabeth as ugly memories crowded in upon her. "I'm afraid that there have been drastic changes since then. It never occurred to me that Harry—that the major—would behave so appallingly."

"Better that you should learn the truth before you became his wife," said
Nan wisely, "or you might have let yourself in for some unpleasant surprises. It was a fortunate escape."

"That's one of the reasons I have to get away from Cambridge. As long as I'm so close to Major Featherstone, I'm caught in the shadow of my past. I simply must escape from here—and from him."

"I can understand that, ma'am."

"Then stop trying to keep me back."

"I'm bound to fret."

"We'll get through to New York somehow."

"You said that last time," Nan observed drily.

"We were badly let down. That won't happen again."

"How do you know?"

"Because I have complete faith in Captain Skoyles."

"So do I—but that doesn't stop me worrying about you."

"I worry about you as well, you know," said Elizabeth, slipping an arm around her shoulders to give her an affectionate squeeze. "You've been a rock, Nan. I'd never have come through it all without you."

"Thank you."

"I'll miss you."

Nan brushed away another tear. "Not as much as I'll miss you."

Their stroll had taken them over three miles in a wide circle and they were now within sight of their house again. Light rain began to fall. Pulling up the hoods on their cloaks, they hurried on. They had reached the front gate when one of Friederike von Riedesel's maids came tripping out to speak to Elizabeth in broken English.

"The gentleman, to see you, he is come."

Elizabeth did not wait to hear any more. Convinced that it was Jamie Skoyles who had called, she was equally convinced that he had brought details of their imminent escape. She ran up the path and in through the front door to find a trim figure in uniform awaiting her.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said politely.

She gasped in dismay. Her visitor was Major Harry Featherstone.

Jamie Skoyles had gone to great lengths to ensure that he had picked a more trustworthy man this time. After a first, secret, exploratory meeting with Cabal
Mears, he made discreet but exhaustive inquiries about the fellow, and heard nothing but praise of him. Common report held Mears to be honest and reliable. He also refused to take any money from Skoyles beforehand, and that was the best argument of all in his favor. Mears was a fisherman, a brawny man in his fifties with a pair of small blue eyes set in a weather-beaten face fringed with a white beard. When they met that morning at the quayside, Mears was seated on an upturned wooden pail, smoking a pipe and mending one of his nets. He gave Skoyles a nod of recognition.

"Good day to you, Captain," he said.

"And to you, my friend."

"Come in out of the rain."

"Thank you." Skoyles ducked under the roof of the little shed where Mears kept his fishing tackle. "Do you have any news for me?"

"I think so."

"Well?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"You did tell me you were in a hurry," said Mears with a throaty chuckle, "and there's no point in waiting. Besides, tomorrow will bring fine weather."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a sailor."

"What time will you want us?"

"About an hour before dawn. That's when I usually set out in search of my catch. This time, of course, I'll have bigger fish in my nets. Two of them."

"Four," corrected Skoyles.

"Oh? Since when?"

"Since I talked to Tom Caffrey. There'll be four of us aboard—two men and two women. I'll be happy to pay an extra charge."

"I'm not doing this for the money," said Mears, "though I'm not so stupid that I'll refuse to take it. Some of us are still loyal to the Crown. We're not allowed to say so, mind you, not unless we want to be tarred and feathered—but we can show it. That's what I'm doing."

"I'm eternally grateful."

"How much baggage will you be carrying?"

"Very little."

"Good."

"And we'll take our turn at the oars."

"If there's enough wind, the sail will do most of the work." Mears removed his pipe and studied Skoyles. "Have you been out in a boat before, Captain?"

"Many times. Back in England, I was born and brought up in the Lake District. I learned to handle a boat at a young age."

"A lake is very different from the Atlantic Ocean."

"I know that," said Skoyles. "I crossed it to get here."

"Yes," the other conceded, "but you came in a three-masted frigate that was built for heavy seas. I only have a fishing boat. You'll notice the difference as soon as we hit those big waves."

"We're ready for any inconvenience."

"I was thinking of the ladies."

"Forget about them, Cabal. They know what to expect."

Mears popped the pipe back into his mouth. "I doubt that."

There was a quiet solidity about the man that Skoyles admired. The fisherman was a familiar sight at the quayside, a regular denizen who had earned his living out of the sea for years and who intended to go on doing so. He was no horse thief like the late Otis Tapper. Skoyles felt certain that Cabal Mears would not fail them.

"Where will you take us?" he said.

"That depends," replied Mears.

"On what?"

"The weather. It will be fine in the morning, but there's no telling what may happen later on. All that I can guarantee is that I'll have the four of you well clear of Boston. Where I put you ashore, I can't say."

"I accept that."

The other man studied him shrewdly for a moment. "May I ask you a question, Captain Skoyles?"

"Of course."

"Why do you choose to leave by sea?" asked Mears. "It would be a lot easier and far safer to escape by land. You could buy some horses."

"We tried that."

"What happened?"

"They hanged the man who stole the horses for us."

The fisherman grimaced. "That would make you think twice, I grant you,"
he said. "One thing about Cabal Mears—nobody can put a noose around his neck for stealing his own boat."

"But if you
were
caught . . ."

"Then I'll swear blind that you came to help me fish." He gave another chuckle, then rose to his feet. "I know the risk I'm taking, but I do so without any hesitation. If I'm helping two more British soldiers to rejoin the battle against the rebels, then I'm more than happy."

"Thank you, Cabal."

"An hour before dawn, mind."

"We'll be there," said Skoyles.

"Just remember one thing about the sea, Captain."

"What's that?"

"It's very wet," Mears warned. "If you carry anything of value, make sure that it's wrapped in something that won't let in water. For the rest, we'll have to take our chances."

"We're ready to do that."

After exchanging a handshake with him, Skoyles stepped out of the shed to discover that the rain had stopped. It was a good omen.

Since there was no hope of privacy inside the house, they moved to an outbuilding where they could step in out of the rain. Taken aback to see Harry Featherstone again, all that Elizabeth Rainham wanted to do was to get rid of him as quickly as possible. His manner was penitent.

"How are you?" he asked.

"As well as can be expected in the circumstances."

"This is no place for you. General von Riedesel has told us how badly you and his wife are treated here. You deserve better, Elizabeth."

"I survive."

"Do you?"

"Yes, Major," she said coldly.

It was the first time they had spoken to each other for several weeks and both of them felt slightly awkward. Featherstone was uncharacteristically nervous, and Elizabeth's heart was pounding. He was a man of medium height, upright, well built, and immaculately dressed. His neat black mustache matched his dark hair and dark eyes. Though he could never be described as
truly handsome, his appearance was striking and, in spite of her hatred of him, she was reminded how impressed she had been when she first met him.

"I understand that the food is inedible," he said.

"It keeps body and soul together."

"I'll see if I can send some provisions out to you."

"There's no need to do that."

"It's a gesture of goodwill."

"I don't need your goodwill, Major."

There was a long pause. He searched her eyes for any vestigial trace of affection but found none. Elizabeth was poised and watchful. When she broke the silence, her voice was firm.

"We have nothing to say to each other."

"I believe that we do."

"Major—"

"No, let me finish," he said, taking a step closer. "You may not want to speak to me, but the very least I deserve is the chance to tender my profound apology to you. What happened back in Saratoga was unforgivable. I'm deeply ashamed of it."

"So you should be."

"I would simply ask you to remember the situation."

"Situation?"

"Yes, Elizabeth," he went on. "I'd fought in the fiercest battle I'd ever known. I'd seen some of my closest friends shot dead or hideously wounded. I'd watched our army being cut to shreds by those confounded rebels. The pain of it all was indescribable. I was tired, distracted, grieving. I simply wanted solace."

"I'd prefer to leave the incident in the past," she said crisply.

"But I need to explain."

"Your behavior was self-explanatory."

"I was pushed to the very edge. Don't you understand?"

"What I understand is that you tried to take by force what should only be yielded up out of love in the marriage bed."

"And why did I do that?" he continued, a touch of anger showing through. "It was because something that was mine—something that was very precious to me—was being offered to another man."

"You've only yourself to blame for that."

"Elizabeth, you
loved
me. You promised to marry me."

"I promised to marry the Harry Featherstone whom I had seen courting my sister, a true gentleman and a dashing soldier. Then poor Cora fell ill and knew that she was going to die. When she asked me to love you in her stead," said Elizabeth, grappling with a painful memory, "I had no difficulty in doing so. There was no sense of duty involved. I wanted you for myself."

"What changed?"

"You did."

"No, it was your feelings toward me that altered."

"Only because I saw new sides to your character."

"We all have our weaknesses, Elizabeth."

"These are far more than weaknesses," she retorted hotly. "You not only molested me, you actually tried to kill Captain Skoyles on the battlefield."

"I simply meant to give him a fright," he said with irritation.

"That's not true. It was a heinous crime, an act of attempted murder. Anybody else but Captain Skoyles would have reported it to General Burgoyne and had you called to account."

"Skoyles had more sense than to do that."

"More restraint, you mean."

"He knew that it would be his word against mine."

"And you have more influence with your fellow officers," she said bitterly. "That's another example of the sort of man you really are—hiding behind your friends. Please, Major, leave me alone."

"Not until you accept my apology."