Ten #2
Anna followed her into the pantry, the room smelling of dried apples, vinegar, and cloves. Mrs. Pembroke closed the door, and Anna pressed both hands to her face. “Goodness, I told him I heard Bell’s name.”
“You had to, dear,” Mrs. Pembroke said.
Anna lowered her hands. “But I should have denied it.”
“No, he would have known. You gave him enough truth to make the rest believable.” She gave Anna a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Anna dropped her hands. “He told me to report anything I hear tonight.”
“That he did.” Mrs. Pembroke reached behind a jar of preserves and withdrew a folded slip of paper.
Anna stared at her in shock. “How many things do you have hidden in this house?”
“Fewer than I would like.” Mrs. Pembroke pressed the paper into Anna’s hand.
“Take this to the smokehouse behind the old cooper’s yard.
Leave it beneath the loose stone by the rear wall.
You will go by way of Mrs. Albright’s lane, not the main road.
If stopped, you are fetching horehound from Mrs. Albright for Mercy’s cough. ”
“But Mercy doesn’t have a cough,” Anna said.
“She will if I tell her to.” Mrs. Pembroke smiled.
Anna gripped the paper. “What does it say?”
“Bell. East Road. Tonight. Ellis moving him. Reed watched.”
“Reed watched,” Anna said. “That matters somehow.”
“Of course, dear. Because if Mr. Reed is watched, then anything he does may fail before it begins.”
“And you think I’ll not be watched?” Anna asked.
“I think Major Ellis believes he has frightened you into obedience.”
Anna’s shoulders slumped. “He may have.”
“Did he, dear?”
Anna glanced at the pantry door. Beyond it, Mrs. Fenwick was scolding Mercy about something ordinary, while elsewhere, British officers were deciding the fate of a man named Bell. Nathaniel might already be riding into danger, watched by men who suspected him, and distrusted everyone around him.
She didn’t know if Nathaniel served the British or the Patriots, but she did know he’d protected her twice now. She also knew, much to her irritation, that the thought of him being watched made something inside her twist painfully.
She tucked the folded paper into the cuff of her sleeve. “And if I see Mr. Reed?”
“You do not speak to him unless necessary,” Mrs. Pembroke said.
“But what if he speaks to me?”
“Then you remember that Mr. Reed may be very dangerous.”
A humorless laugh escaped her. “I have been trying very hard to remember that, ma’am.”
Mrs. Pembroke leaned toward her. “Try harder, dear.”
Anna’s cheeks warmed as she nodded.
“And don’t look at me like that,” Mrs. Pembroke said. “I was young once.”
Anna took a step back. “I said nothing.”
“My dear, you said a great deal, most of it with your eyebrows.”
Anna smiled before she could stop herself, then put the back of her hand to her mouth to cover it.
Mrs. Pembroke opened the pantry door. “Now hurry along before Major Ellis decides to be thorough.”
Anna slipped into the hall, fetched her shawl from a peg near the kitchen, and told Mrs. Fenwick she was going to Mrs. Albright’s for horehound.
Mercy immediately coughed. It was a terrible cough and entirely unconvincing. When Mrs. Fenwick glared at her, Mercy coughed again, weaker this time. “I feel a tickle.”
Mrs. Fenwick glanced between Mercy and Anna, then to the hall where Mrs. Pembroke had just appeared. Understanding moved through her face. So did the hint of fear.
“Take the back way,” Mrs. Fenwick said gruffly, “and mind you don’t linger. The air’s turned cold.”
“Yes, Mrs. Fenwick.” Anna left by the kitchen door. Outside, smoke curled from chimneys and a dog barked somewhere beyond the lane. Anna pulled her shawl close and started toward Mrs. Albright’s lane.
Just as she told herself she wasn’t afraid, a rider appeared at the far end of the lane. Anna stopped, her heart in her throat, until she realized who it was.
Nathaniel reined in his horse beneath the branches of the nearby trees, his horse’s breath clouding in the cold air. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then his gaze dropped to her sleeve, to the cuff where the paper was hidden.
How could he know such things? Her heart sank as he rode toward her, his voice low and urgent. “Miss Turner, go back inside.”
She stood straighter, even though fear crawled up her spine. “I have an errand to run for Mrs. Pembroke.”
“No,” he said. “You have a death wish.”
She gasped. “That is a bold assumption.”
“It is an educated one.” His gaze flicked past her toward the road. “You cannot go this way.”
“Why? Because Major Ellis has men watching, or because you do?”
The words struck him. She saw his flinch. Good.
She needed anger right now. It was easier to manage than the dangerous relief that rushed through her at the sight of him.
Nathaniel leaned down from the saddle. “Anna…” It was the first time he’d used her Christian name. The sound of it in his voice nearly ruined her.
She drew back. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
His jaw tightened. “Then don’t make me say what you already know.”
“What?”
He lowered his voice. “That you are about to walk into soldiers who have been told to stop anyone they suspect is carrying a message.”
Her breath caught. “How do you know that?”
He looked past her again. Anna turned. At the bend in the lane, two British soldiers appeared between the trees.
Nathaniel dismounted and caught her by the arm.
She should have pulled away but didn’t. His hand was warm through her sleeve, firm but not painful.
The warmth shot through her so fast, that for one terrible instant, she forgot the soldiers, the message, and every sensible reason she had for disliking him.
He turned her toward the kitchen path. “Back to the house. Now.”
“And the message?” she whispered.
His gaze returned to her sleeve. Anna went cold. He knew exactly where it was. Nathaniel’s expression hardened into something she’d not seen before. Something dangerous. “Give it to me,” he said.
Anna gaped at him. Behind them, the soldiers drew closer. And in that moment, with his hand still around her arm and warning in his eyes, Anna couldn’t tell whether Nathaniel meant to save the message, save her, or hand both over to the British.