Chapter 21 Trials of the Heart #3
Benjamin shook his head. “Not if he believes he can get information,” he insisted.
“As far as I am aware, he never learned my true surname. Still, you make a valid point… Perhaps we should amend your story to this: Major Yates abducted you for ransom purposes, and during your imprisonment at camp, a young captain grew fond of you and helped with your escape. Unfortunately for him, you did not share in his affections but allowed him to believe as such to glean information and earn your freedom.”
Clara hummed, still skeptical. “And this captain’s name will be?”
“You can tell your father whatever name you wish, but I plan on signing my name as Apollo,” he said.
“Back in college, my classmates teased me for being proficient at everything thrown my way; and seeing how Apollo is the Greek god of so many of my interests—music, poetry, archery, you name it—that became my moniker. This will make it seem like you have a secret admirer, and it’ll protect my identity. What do you think?”
Clara held up a hand. “I cannot be a blackguard,” she said. “Spies are scum—cowards. I’m only betraying my values for the sake of ending this war, and I was hoping you would have something far less repugnant for me to do.”
Bewildered, Benjamin shook his head. “But this is the way to end the war, and I promise your side is doing the very same. It’s why Bishop enacted this operation in the first place.”
She looked between him and Amos. “Operation?”
“It’s a whole network,” Benjamin explained. “Bishop’s the head of intelligence, Amos and I are two of his agents, and there are a handful of couriers who forward our information. And you will be part of that group as well, should you accept.”
Glancing at Josiah, who offered her an encouraging smile, Clara nervously twisted her hands. She’d known Benjamin was a rebel spy but hadn’t realized how deeply entrenched this whole scheme was.
“How is my role to remain secret?” she asked. “The British officers had knowledge of you beforehand.”
Benjamin faltered, considerably thrown. “Officers have my name? As in, associated with a spy mission?”
She shook her head. “Not quite. The man Corporal McQuinn killed, the man who…” Awkwardly, Clara gestured to his bath chair, then continued, “Yates is the one who aided your head of intelligence, and passed along tactical plans to the British.”
Swearing under his breath, Benjamin pressed, “Are you sure? They know my identity?”
“No.” Clara shook her head. “What I meant was, Yates gave the British tactical plans and made mention of you, but without your name. To my understanding, he was hoping to offer you as some sort of trade. It was better for him to keep an advantage, should things go wrong.”
Relief flooded Benjamin’s features. “Good,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but we’ll still have an edge since Bishop relieved me of my post. No one will suspect us.”
Amos hummed. “I haven’t yet received word from Bishop, but I’m sure he’ll still wanna use me for intelligence gatherin’.”
“So let him use you,” Benjamin agreed, “but in the meantime, try to be there for Clara and myself, too. Write Bishop and let him know our intentions. He needs to be aware that she’s on our side.
” He looked at the redhead, who’d grown increasingly pale during this exchange.
“Don’t fret. Since our methods of communication are too complex to learn overnight, we will be using invisible ink and mask letters. ”
Blinking rapidly, Clara echoed, “Invisible…? Uh?”
“I’ll give a demonstration after dinner,” he promised.
“With the latter method, you hold the mask over the letter you’ve written, and a cut-out reveals the true message.
Again, that might be too complex for you, so we’ll begin our correspondence with the ink.
We’ll write something trivial to one another.
I’ll occasionally feed you false information, since I imagine your father will want our correspondence to continue.
Underneath the regular message, we will write our intended updates in the invisible formula.
These letters will be placed into a dead drop in the woods.
You and Amos will work this out together, so that way, nothing can ever get intercepted. ”
Clara opened and closed her mouth, overwhelmed.
Sensing her distress, Benjamin said, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but—”
“It’s far more than just ‘a lot,’” she said. “You are talking sheer fiddle-faddle! Masks and falsehoods, and invisible ink? What kind of sorcery are you enacting for this cause?”
“Oi, it’s no sorcery,” Amos assured her. “It’s the work o’ chemistry! That means—”
“I know what chemistry is, you loggerhead.” Glancing toward Josiah, Clara flushed and amended, “My apologies. I am just so terribly overwhelmed…”
“As I said, I’ll walk you through it,” Benjamin promised. “It’s not just the cause that’s on the line, but your safety.”
His eyes took on an earnest, pleading sheen that left her reeling, and Clara jumped when Josiah’s hand came upon her shoulder.
“I’ll tend to dinner,” he announced. “Why don’t the three of your keep discussing your new venture?” Gently squeezing her against his side, he added, “I’m so glad you’re all right, Miss Boyd. So wholly, utterly glad.”
Josiah hugged her once more, and as he headed off to the outdoor kitchen, Clara’s heart shattered and reassembled from his affections, affections she assuredly did not deserve.
Amos cleared his throat. “Weeeell, I’mma head out me’self,” he said. “If I’m takin’ Miss Boyd back tomorrow, I’d like to prepare.”
Benjamin nodded. “Very well. When should we expect you?”
“Bright an’ early, so be up an’ at ’em.” He pointed a finger at Clara in warning, then grinned before making his departure.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, and with a sliver of nerves roiling within her breast, Clara turned to Benjamin and blurted, “I actually have to leave, as well. Ah…to help your father.”
Benjamin’s hand shot out and clasped firmly around her wrist, halting her frantic escape.
His gaze was soft and plaintive, and as they locked eyes, his grip loosened and he gently stroked her wrist. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he murmured.
“And I thank you…for being willing to help, even if you don’t believe in our cause. ”
Clara remained stock-still, hating how she wanted, no, needed the torment of his hands on her skin. With her pulse thrumming wildly in her throat, she managed a soft, “I may not believe in your cause, Ben, but I do believe in you.”
Benjamin’s features warmed at her words, clearly touched. “Clara, I…I-I don’t know what to say…”
With his eyes glowing akin to fireflies at dusk, he squeezed her hand, but she jerked herself free of his grip. “I’ll see you after dinner, Captain,” she said. “Please be patient with me…I imagine I’ll need extensive instruction.”
When his gaze remained yearnful, incendiary, she drew a breath and quickly broke away from him, rushing to the kitchen to escape this cursed snare of her own making.