Once a Rebel Read online

  She chuckled. “You may regret asking because I can talk about them for hours! I’ll try to keep it brief. Molly is sixteen. Her real name is Mary, but Molly suits her lively spirit better. She’s even more beautiful than her mother, which is saying a great deal. She’s very clever and has been a wonderful assistant in my dressmaking business. When the children were little, I told them stories of England and she wants to visit there someday, when the war is over.”

  “She’ll have her chance soon,” he promised. “What about the other child? I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “Trey is fourteen and all boy, for better and worse. He’s well grown for his age and full of energy and charm and curiosity. His real name is Matthew, after his father and grandfather. As the third Matthew, he was nicknamed Trey when he was in the cradle.”

  “The legitimate son wasn’t named Matthew?” Gordon asked curiously.

  “His mother, Matthew’s first wife, insisted that her son be named Henry for her father,” Callie explained. “I gather she was a difficult woman to argue with.”

  Gordon wondered if Matthew Newell thought marrying a sixteen-year-old girl would give him a more docile wife. If so, he’d been wrong, but at least Callie would have listened and discussed, not bullied him. “From the way you talked of your children, I thought they’d be younger, but they’re close to grown.”

  “Yes, and I’m learning the age-old lesson that there are new worries as children grow older,” Callie said ruefully. “Molly already attracts too much unwanted attention from men, so I’ve taught her a few ways to protect herself if necessary. Luckily she has a good head on her shoulders and she isn’t likely to fall for a smooth-talking rake.”

  He loved the feel of her against him. Gently he stroked her outside arm, bringing her even closer. “What would Trey like to do in his future?”

  “He loves machinery and ideas and working with his hands. I’d apprentice him to an inventor if I could find such a thing. Or perhaps to a printer who produces newspapers.”

  “Will they receive inheritances from their father?”

  “That is a whole other story,” she said tartly. “Matthew drafted a will that left the plantation to his son Henry and generous legacies to Molly and Trey. At my request, he also freed all his slaves after his death. I would be guardian of both children until they came of age. He gave me the draft to read. I made a couple of suggestions that he said he’d incorporate. But he died soon after, and if there was an updated will, it vanished.”

  Gordon sucked in his breath. “Let me guess. The only will that could be found was an older one leaving everything to his legitimate son.”

  “Exactly. I think Henry destroyed the new will. It wasn’t enough to inherit his father’s property. He wanted the slaves and every penny of his father’s money as well.”

  “I suppose there was no legal recourse since you didn’t have a copy of the new will.”

  “The story gets worse. Not only was the will gone, but he told me that he intended to sell his brother and sister. Molly would be worth a pretty penny, he told me.” She laughed bitterly. “He generously said I could stay on as his mistress.”

  Gordon swore out loud, wishing he’d been around to kill the bastard for her. “So you vanished, and you can’t touch your jointure because that would mean revealing your location. It’s damnable!”

  “I try not to think about any of that because it makes me feel murderous and there isn’t anything I can really do except pray that he isn’t looking for us anymore. He has everything now and nothing to fear from me. But I hate that Molly and Trey won’t receive what they’re entitled to.” She sighed. “They might be safer in England.”

  “I was sent to take you and yours there,” he said mildly. “All you have to do is say that’s what you want.”

  “England is expensive. I don’t know if I can earn enough to support the household,” she said. “I’d be starting all over again, and I don’t want charity from my family even if any is offered.”

  “You can marry me,” he suggested. “I’m not hugely wealthy, but I have enough to keep you and your family comfortably. I can dower Molly and help Trey achieve what he wants. Perhaps he might want to go to university.”

  She glanced up at his face, startled. “Thank you, but I’m not that desperate.”

  He burst into laughter. “Callie, if I ever deluded myself into thinking I’m attractive to women, you’ve thoroughly destroyed the notion.”

  “Sorry!” She joined his laughter. “It’s a kind offer, but well beyond what you were hired to do. I don’t want to marry anyone, and I’m sure you can do better than me if you decide you want a wife.”

  No, he couldn’t. But now was obviously not the time to say that. “The offer is open,” he said casually. “Should you become sufficiently desperate.”

  “I keep telling myself not to worry. My world is in flux and no great decisions can be made until I see what happens.”

  “Every family has a designated worrier, and usually it’s the woman.”

  “You’re suggesting that even if I can’t stop myself from worrying, I should try not to make myself insane with it?”

  “That’s about it,” he agreed. “Time for bed now. Though perhaps warm milk with sugar and brandy would help you sleep better.”

  She smiled. “That will take me back to my childhood. Did my nanny give yours the recipe, or did your nanny give it to mine?”

  “I forget. Shall we look for the kitchen and see if we can stir up a couple of mugs of relaxation?”

  She looked tempted, but shook her head. “Too complicated to do in a strange household, particularly one in crisis mode.” She smothered a yawn. “Besides, I’m tired enough not to need it.”

  “A tiring and bruising day.” He thought of his simple, pleasant guest room upstairs. “Last night we shared a bed.”

  “We only had one bed,” she pointed out. “Sleep well, Richard.”

  “And you also, Callie,” he said as he opened the door into the house.

  Chapter 14

  The sun was barely up when Gordon woke the next morning. As soon as he started moving around, two servants arrived, one carrying a pitcher of hot water and the other his boots and coat. As promised, the boots were in good shape. His dark blue coat would never be the same, but it was wearable.

  After he washed and dressed, he swiftly packed what few possessions he had in the battered canvas satchel he’d used to bring the same items to Tucker Hall. He’d transferred everything to Mr. Green’s saddlebags before riding into Washington to find the mysterious Widow Audley. Both pistols would need cleaning since they’d been rained on, but everything had survived.

  Satchel in hand, he headed downstairs and found Callie standing at a window staring out at the creek. This morning her hair fell in a braid down her back. In her soft gray gown, she looked like an unusually pretty servant. She turned at the sound of his footsteps. “No sign of your Captain Hawkins yet.”

  “It’s early and he couldn’t sail the Zephyr this far up the creek anyhow. He’ll send a small boat.” Gordon scanned the horizon, but couldn’t see any masts or sails.

  “May I put my clothes in with yours? All I have is what you gave me.”

  “Of course.” Gordon tucked the folded garments inside. By the time he fastened the satchel again, Mr. Green had joined them, carrying a pair of wide-brimmed straw hats in one hand. “To replace the hats you lost,” he explained as he gave them each one. “These aren’t stylish but they’ll keep you from burning in the sun. For now, though, breakfast.”

  The food was excellent and Mr. Green was a very gracious host, but Gordon sensed that he was anxious to see the last of his guests so he could return to his usual responsibilities. Callie was probably even more impatient to be off for Baltimore. Over the years, Gordon had learned to live in the moment, so he enjoyed the food and the sight of Callie across the table from him.

  She sat opposite a window that overlooked the creek, and as
they finished eating, she jumped to her feet. “A small boat is approaching your dock!”

  Mr. Green also stood. “No one inside wearing a red uniform, I hope?”

  “No, that’s Hawkins on board.” Gordon got up and donned one of the straw hats, handing the other to Callie. Picking up his satchel, he said, “Thank you for your most welcome hospitality, Mr. Green. Shall we see if Hawkins has news?”

  That thought propelled them all from the house and down the path to the dock. Hawkins greeted Gordon with a firm handshake. “Glad to see you’re still alive!” His interested gaze moved to Callie. “You succeeded in finding your widow?”

  “Indeed I did,” Gordon replied. “Mrs. Audley and Mr. Green, who is head of the family you carried over to Virginia.”

  After handshakes all around, Green said, “We’ve had breakfast, but there’s food to spare if you’d like to come inside.”

  “Thank you, but I’ve eaten and I expect my passengers are anxious to get away.”

  “That I am.” Callie gave Mr. Green a swift hug. “Stay safe, and may your family be home with you soon!”

  He hugged her back. “From your mouth to God’s ears! Captain Hawkins, do you know what’s going on out there?”

  “The British troops have withdrawn from Washington,” Hawkins replied. “I imagine that the government officials are on the way back to restore order.”

  “Thank God for that!” Green said fervently. “Does anyone know where the British forces are going next?”

  “The best guess is to Baltimore,” Hawkins said. “But it’s too soon to tell. They might decide to burn Annapolis on the way.”

  Green nodded soberly. “It’s selfish of me, but I’m glad they’re heading elsewhere. I hope our troops are better prepared for the next battle.”

  After final farewells, the captain ushered his passengers back to the dinghy. Gordon was amused to see the blushes of the two young sailors who had been rowing the boat. Callie was a potent feminine force.

  After he helped Callie into the boat and settled on the bench seat next to her, he asked Hawkins, “Did you escape the force of the storm?”

  Hawkins growled, “No, dammit. The Zephyr took major damage to the masts and sails. There were hailstones the size of musket balls. If I hadn’t been able to get her into the Potomac, she would have been destroyed. She can still sail, but I couldn’t outrun a rowboat, much less a British frigate. We can’t cross the Atlantic until repairs are made.”

  Callie tensed. “Can you make it as far as Baltimore? I must go there!”

  “You want to go to Baltimore?” Hawkins looked pained. “I can’t recommend it.”

  “If you can’t do it, set me ashore,” Callie said stiffly. “I’ll make my way by land.”

  “I really do not recommend that!” Hawkins exclaimed. “The countryside is badly disturbed and you’d risk bandits, looters, frustrated American militiamen, and possibly British Army patrols.”

  Before Callie could say that she’d risk it, Richard said, “It’s not an easy destination, but Mrs. Audley must go there to find her family since she sent them away from Washington for safety. What do you suggest as the best way of reaching the city?”

  Hawkins’s brow furrowed as he considered. “I plan to take the Zephyr to St. Michaels, a shipbuilding town on the eastern shore of the bay. My pilot, Landers, grew up there and his father owns a first-rate shipyard. While my ship is being repaired, I can hire a small boat and sail you up to Baltimore. A vessel the size of a fishing boat will be too small to attract unwelcome British attention. It’s the best chance for you to reach Baltimore in one piece.”

  As Callie ached at the thought of how long that would take, Richard enfolded her hand in his large, warm clasp. “It’s good to listen to people who know what they’re talking about, Catkin,” he said quietly. “You’ll do your family no favors if you get yourself killed.”

  She exhaled slowly, struggling to control her anxiety. “I know you’re right. But I don’t like it!”

  “Mrs. Audley, there are many things I don’t like and can’t change,” Hawkins said tersely. “This is one of them. But I promise to do my best to make sure you reach Baltimore safely.”

  She looked at the two strong, capable men who were risking so much to help her, and bit her lip. She’d also learned hard lessons about accepting what could not be changed. It was time to act like an adult. “I’m sorry for being unreasonable,” she said apologetically. “You’ve suffered grave damage to your ship, Captain, and Richard risked his life to find me in Washington. I am deeply grateful to you both.”

  Hawkins nodded acknowledgment, but glanced at Richard quizzically. “Your given name is Richard?”

  “It’s one of my names. I was shocked to discover that the Widow Audley was a childhood friend from England.” He gave her an intimate smile. “We grew up as neighbors, but lost track of each other years ago.”

  “I thought he was dead,” Callie added.

  “That he’s still breathing is not for lack of trying to get himself killed,” Hawkins said dryly.

  She almost laughed. “He’s not the only one! Richard told me about a certain cellar in Portugal. The one with bad brandy.”

  Hawkins’s brows arched. “It’s not one of my fonder memories.”

  “Yet men often seem to love danger and mystery.” Curious, she added, “You didn’t know any of Richard’s given names, Captain Hawkins. What are yours?”

  “If you ever need to know, I’ll tell you,” he said, an amused gleam in his eyes. “But for now, I prefer to be mysterious.”

  Callie smiled, then caught her breath in shock. The dinghy had just rounded a wide bend in the creek and they could now see where the Zephyr waited quietly at anchor. Two of the masts were broken and some of the sails were shredded. Sailors were working to replace one of them.

  Richard gave a soft whistle. “You weren’t joking about the damage!”

  “She’s suffered worse,” Hawkins said tersely. “But you can see why I’m in no shape to whisk you back to England.”

  “That’s all right,” Callie said, knowing it was time to reveal her uncertainty. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to stay here or return home.” As she said the words, she realized that England did feel like home. But that would not be the only factor in her final decision.

  “I should have known that rescuing a woman wouldn’t be straightforward,” the captain said dourly.

  “This has more to do with being in the middle of a war than it does my gender. I’ve learned how quickly and disastrously life can change, and how uncertain the future can be.” She frowned. “I can’t decide if I’m so anxious to get to Baltimore just on general principles, or if my maternal instincts are whispering that something is wrong. But worry isn’t helping. All I can do is wait and see.”

  “Patience is one of the most irritating adult virtues to acquire,” Richard said ruefully. “But I swear that I’ll stay with you until you know what you want to do.”

  “In the meantime, you’re giving us ample opportunity for danger and mystery,” Hawkins said, wryly amused. “Remind me to thank you if I live long enough.”

  Chapter 15

  Callie’s excitement at finally reaching Baltimore was muted by the time their sailboat entered the city’s harbor. It was late afternoon and golden light poured over boats and buildings. They’d already passed Fort McHenry, a small brick fort that Hawkins said was sometimes called the Star Fort because of its shape.

  The fort and harbor were rife with military activity. Their small vessel, the Sally May, had passed over a boom designed to prevent enemy warships from entering the inner harbor, and it was backed up by barges bristling with cannon.

  Closer to the waterfront a strange structure crossed the harbor, rising and falling on the waves. “What is that?” she asked.

  “They’ve used barges to create a temporary bridge to move men and supplies over to the fort,” Hawkins replied.

  Richard studied the connected barges. “I
can’t help but think about the bridge of boats in Porto on that fatal day we met.”

  “This bridge of boats is sturdier and it’s not crowded with fugitives,” Hawkins said. “But I’d rather not risk my life on it.”

  Callie stared at the chained barges and made a mental note to ask Richard more questions later. But for now, her attention was on this reunion. She’d burned with impatience for the last week, but finally, she was here.

  It had been almost a fortnight since she’d sent her family north. The journey to St. Michaels had been slow in the damaged Zephyr, and twice they’d had to shelter in one of the many creeks and rivers that ran into the bay when they saw the clustered masts of Royal Navy ships.

  St. Michaels had proved to be a charming town, where memories of the previous year’s British attack were vivid. The owner of Landers Shipyard was happy to undertake repairs to the Zephyr; he and Hawkins had done business before. Landers also negotiated the hire of a swift sailboat that was small enough to be overlooked but large enough to carry all of Callie’s family.

  Hawkins clearly enjoyed having a small, responsive boat he could sail with his own hands. He’d brought one of his sailors to help and Richard also acted as crew. To Callie’s inexpert eyes, Richard seemed as skilled as Hawkins. She supposed he’d qualified as an able seaman by the end of the long voyage from Britain to Botany Bay, and he’d been on and off ships ever since.

  Now, finally, her journey was over. She sat on the right of Hawkins, who was at the tiller to guide the boat in. “Newell’s is right on the waterfront.” She scanned the solidly built warehouses that lined the harbor. “There!” She pointed. “That tall building with a hoist at the top and a church spire beyond.”

  Richard sat on Hawkins’s other side, intently studying the streets and buildings. “There seems to be a lot of preparation for a possible attack, but not a mass evacuation as there was in Washington.”