Chapter 6 On Guard #3
The servant presently bent at Jedediah’s ear withdrew and bowed his head, doleful as Jedediah spluttered and flapped his mouth.
“Are you certain?” When the servant nodded, the attorney huffed.
“Can you believe this?” he snarled. “According to Harrelson here, someone murdered George Stewart last night!”
The women all gasped, and when Clara glanced at Benjamin, he barely had time to reassemble his face and hide his shock.
“What a pity,” Deborah said, drawing a hand to her chest. “He was from such a lovely loyalist family, too…it must have been rebel scum who did this.”
Benjamin tightened his fists, then clumsily sat across from Clara. His wound throbbed from the graceless motion, and he exhaled, trying to minimize the pain on his face. “It’s a true tragedy,” he agreed. “I hope the man who did this suffers.”
“Hear, hear!” Jedediah exclaimed. “The sooner those rebels are off the streets, the better. I’ll have to speak with Mr. Collins about making his provisions plan more widespread.”
Benjamin swallowed, but said nothing. He glanced toward Clara, who was eyeing him strangely. Did she suspect? Did she think he killed George Stewart?
Paling at the thought, he offered a feeble smile and nod, to which she frowned and returned to her eggs.
Oh, blood and thunder. Whatever her thoughts on the matter, she certainly didn’t seem amenable to conversation…
“How did it happen?” Benjamin asked. Securing his napkin, he looked to Jedediah with what he hoped to be concerned expectance. “The man…Mr. Stewart, was it? How was he killed?”
Jedediah’s mouth twisted, and he shook his head, getting worked up anew. “The poor soul was stabbed,” he said. “The tavern must have been empty, because I cannot imagine anyone letting such a beloved man get attacked!”
“With all due respect, Father, I believe Mr. Stewart was only beloved by lusheys,” Clara said. Her gaze pointedly cut toward Deborah. “As tragic as this is, it was probably some drunken dispute. Truth be told, I am amazed he wasn’t killed sooner.”
Catherine whispered a prayer under her breath, pale and trembling. “Please do not speak as such,” she begged. “Even if Mr. Stewart was a drunk, he deserves our respect.”
“Precisely!” Jedediah agreed. “I’ll have to send his family my regards.”
Clara snorted, her face an open mask of disdain.
“If Mr. Stewart wasn’t such a staunch loyalist, you wouldn’t give one whit about his life,” she snapped.
“Far be it for me to support rebel trash when they are such reprehensible, violent beasts, but I do not believe in remaining silent when utter tripe is tossed my way.” Jedediah moved to speak, yet she continued on, “You’ve categorized this town into ‘traitors’ and ‘loyalists,’ but I can promise you, Father: There are plenty of scoundrels in the latter class.
A man’s politics do not mean he has good moral standing. ”
Jedediah’s face grew red. “Ridiculous!” he spat.
“I agree,” Clara replied, “it is ridiculous. Why, this entire war is ridiculous, and I hate hearing about our neighbors, our former friends being divided over something so repulsive! We were so close with the Claytons, and now we never speak—and for what? Because they wish to be free of—”
“Enough!” Jedediah thundered, smashing his fist against the table. Catherine and Deborah both jerked, but Clara remained impassive amidst his rage.
Benjamin looked between both parties, equally fascinated and horrified.
He wouldn’t call Clara a sympathetic Tory by any means, but he also hadn’t expected her to understand the damage the war had caused.
Neighbors, friends, and family alike were torn apart at the seams, and sometimes underneath the very same roof. This abode was clearly a prime example.
Despite his own personal misgivings, Benjamin knew he needed to show his appreciation for the Tory cause.
“Your father’s right, Miss Boyd,” he spoke up.
“Although there’s never an accurate gauge for honesty, it’ll always be wisest to side with the loyalists.
At least in this way, we can guarantee your safety. ”
Jedediah was still red faced, but softened at Benjamin’s interjection.
“An astute observation,” he allowed, stabbing his fork into his eggs.
“You’d do well to take his advice, Clara.
No rebel would spare you—why, they would leap at the very opportunity to ravish and plunder, should you cross their path. ”
Clara paled, but her chin remained pointed and tense. “The male sex need not be rebels to accost me,” she said. “I assure you, Father: That uncouth Ensign Thomas was more than willing during your party, and he’s as loyal to the Crown as you and I.”
Jedediah’s eyes alit with anger, but it was clear by the hard set of his jaw he knew she was right.
“I’ve written a letter,” Benjamin cut in, hoping to defuse the situation. “Once it reaches Philadelphia, my employees will be transporting Mr. Collins’s tampered goods. In addition, they’ll be sending a couple ships to use as you see fit. I apologize for lacking the foresight to do this prior.”
As Benjamin hoped, Jedediah’s contempt turned into something blissful and eager.
“Truly?” he crowed. “Why, that’s marvelous news, indeed! I wasn’t certain you’d uphold that vow, if I am being honest, but I’m thrilled you Ashbys are every bit as loyal as you claim.”
Clara looked over at Benjamin, her eyes narrowing quizzically. “Come to think of it, why didn’t you arrive on one of your ships?” she asked. “That way, you could’ve spared yourself the horrors of highwaymen.”
Waving a hand, Benjamin deflected, “Father taught me that modesty is the key to business, and I didn’t wish to embarrass you, nor your family with my riches. It’d be rather ill-mannered, especially since Charlotte is the only treasure I require.”
Clara laughed, the sound musical despite her scorn. “Lord above, Philip, you truly are a hob! A treasure? Please!”
“I think it’s lovely,” Deborah crooned, her face melting into the flirtatious, dream-like simper she’d developed for Benjamin. “Why, I didn’t realize that in addition to being a well-read, successful business owner, you were also a poet.”
This time, Clara could scarcely contain herself. She howled with laughter, holding herself around the middle as tears filled her eyes. Discreetly, Catherine took away her sister’s cider, believing the alcohol was the cause of her mirth.
“Oh, the whole world’s gone mad!” Clara exclaimed. “Isn’t it just…just marvelous how we’re all players in this stage production of sheer twaddle?”
“Clara, that’s enough,” Deborah admonished. “If you’re unable to comport yourself, you may be excused.”
Clara giggled, wiping her eyes with a finger. “Gladly,” she agreed. Rising from the table, she spared Benjamin a disbelieving look before bursting into renewed laughter, rolling her eyes as she turned and left the dining room.
Despite Clara’s mirth at breakfast, when Benjamin found her in the sitting room later that morning, she was nowhere near as pleasant to be around. In fact, once he offered a tentative smile, she snorted and deliberately returned to reading.
“Begging your pardon, Miss Boyd,” he greeted. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Clara didn’t look up from her book. “Do not presume to speak to me without a chaperone,” she warned.
Benjamin breathed a disbelieving huff. Although he certainly agreed it was in poor taste, she’d never concerned herself with such airs in the past, and least especially last night in his room. This was how he knew she was truly cross with him.
“Forgive me, but I only wanted you to know I’ve read a bit of The Expert Midwife,” he announced, hoping to win her good graces. “You see, you were right. I am rather puritanical when it comes to the human body, and that text did me a world of good.”
This time, Clara sighed, rolling her eyes as she flipped to another page.
“Er…I thank you,” he continued, sitting alongside her. “If it weren’t for your insight, I daresay—”
“You were at the tavern,” she accused, her tone crisp. “Did you witness Mr. Stewart’s murder?”
Benjamin swallowed his feeble attempts at conversation, overcome by a lurching wave of panic. “I-I didn’t, no,” he allowed. “He must have been attacked after I was…or maybe before. I cannot be certain.”
“And are you certain you didn’t attack him?” Clara asked, lifting her gaze to nail him in place. “Because it seems rather convenient that you, yourself were injured, and yet managed to get away with your life.”
And there it was. Although he hadn’t been certain of her convictions before, her stance on his guilt was plain as she glared at him, her gaze sharp and cutting akin to a scythe. Every bit as viperous as she was soft and refined, this woman would surely be his undoing…
But not today.
Bolstered by this newfound resolve, Benjamin feigned contrition and shook his head.
“I was attacked by a stranger,” he asserted.
“I’d been drinking, and he took me completely unawares.
To be frank, I barely escaped with my life.
” Against his better judgment, Benjamin reached down and gently pressed her hand.
“Clara, I hope you know I would never lie to you. As the sister of my dearest and most beloved Charlotte, my greatest wish is that we can become friends…that we can be family. You and your father, in particular, have shown me nothing but kindness during my stay here, and I wish to offer nothing but kindness in return. Please…” He squeezed her hand.
“Please believe me. I am forever your humble servant.”