Drake had heard enough for one sitting. He stood, barely controlling the need to smash something. He snapped his fingers, and Chaney entered from where he’d been waiting in the hall. “That will be all, Lieutenant. My butler will show you to a room. Prepare for a possible journey. Should I hear no word from Beaufort by week’s end, you and I shall return to the Colonies to root out this slippery vermin ourselves.”
“Yes, Your Grace. With God’s help we’ll find him soon.” Kirby stood, clicked his heels and bowed as he backed out the door.
With God’s help, indeed.
Drake stared through the window at the mournful weather. In his youth, he’d trusted in God, but no longer. Years of grief and disappointment had hardened his heart until he’d been able to forget God as effectively as God had forgotten him. Now, there was no room in his life for forgiveness or faith. It was vengeance he needed to set things right.
His fingers drumming steadily on the desktop, his mind quickly formed a plan. He’d wait two days to hear from Beaufort. Then he’d hunt down the unsuspecting Fox. When he located him, and he had no doubt of his success, he’d make certain the fellow danced at the end of a noose posthaste.
Chapter Two
Charles Towne, South Carolina
July 1781
Elise patted her powdered wig into place, smoothed the green silk gown over her hips and took a deep, relaxing breath as she prepared to leave the safety of her bedchamber.
Dear Lord, You’ve promised You’ll never leave me. Please help me through tonight.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the dimly lit hall and closed the heavy door behind her. A moment later, Christian Sayer departed his own chamber two doors down. A handsome young man, Christian looked the picture of a wealthy planter’s son in a finely woven white shirt, honey-toned breeches and matching embroidered waistcoat. A well-cropped wig disguised his dark brown hair. His blue eyes sparkled with their usual mischief. Like her, he possessed unquestioning loyalty to the American cause, and worked under the directive of his father, spymaster Zechariah Sayer.
Christian greeted her with an appreciative glance and bowed gallantly. “You look sublime, dearest. That bright shade of green you’re wearing matches your eyes precisely.” He sighed as though put upon. “I can see tonight’s ball will offer me little enjoyment. I’ll be far too busy fending off the sea of gents bent on wooing you.”
Elise rolled her eyes and restrained her laughter. She wasn’t the plainest of women, but there was nothing spectacular about her brown hair, and her lips were too full for her oval face. Christian loved to tease. More oft than not, she was his favorite target. Other than her half sister, Princess, he was the only person she held dear. She loved him like a brother.
“I can take care of myself, thank you. If one of us must defend the other this night, it will be I protecting you. Alice Harris has marriage on her mind, or so I hear.”
“Alice Harris, you say? She’s fetching enough. Since you won’t have me, I suppose she’ll do. Tell me of her plans, will you? With a woman like Alice, I’ll need to be prepared.”
“What makes you think I know her full intentions? Alice and I are hardly confidants.”
Christian flashed a wicked grin. “I’m aware that you know everything, my dear Fox.”
Elise swatted him with her folded fan. “Shh, you silly dolt. Don’t bandy that name about. Do you wish to see me dangling from the nearest hangman’s tree?”
“Rest easy. There’s no one here. Do you think I’d be that foolhardy?”
“I suppose not, Wolf,” she agreed, using his own alias. “But we can’t be too careful. Charles Towne is crawling with redcoats. So many will be in attendance tonight, one would think King George himself planned to call.”
“Aye, you know father has little choice but to include them if he hopes to maintain control of Brixton Hall. Thank God they believe he’s a Loyalist or we’d all be out on our ear.”
Elise said nothing as they meandered toward the top of the stairs. What she wouldn’t do to be released and away from the Hall. But then where would Prin go? Surely the war would end soon, and she and her sister would be free. “There’s no doubt Zechariah is convincing in all that he does.”
“Do I detect a note of bitterness, Elise?”
“What would I have to be bitter about?”
“I can think of a good many things,” Christian said with sympathy.
“It’s just that I’m so tired of this life, of always playing the role of someone other than myself,” she said, sorry the conversation had taken a personal turn.
“We all wear masks of one kind or another to protect ourselves, m’dear. You play the scatterbrain, Zechariah the Tory and I—”
“The soulless rake,” she interjected sweetly.
He grinned, unrepentant. “I do my part. Innocent girl that you are, it might surprise you to know that the wives and mistresses of British officers are more forthcoming with their secrets once they’ve been exposed to my charm. It’s delicate and dangerous work.”
“Dangerous? Ha!”
“Of course it’s dangerous. Have you not heard? There is no fury like a woman scorned. Once I’ve gleaned my information I’m required to move on to the next fair dove—”
“Sitting duck, you mean.”
“Ah, but it is the least I can do for our cause.”
They stopped at the top of the stairs. Once again Elise suffered a twinge of unease. Christian squeezed her hand in commiseration. “We all do what we must. Seven months have passed since Hawk’s betrayal. Father is growing impatient with you. If you don’t join the ranks again soon, he’ll send you back to Roger.”
At the mention of her stepfather, she grimaced. Roger was akin to a viper in her mind. He lived for profit no matter the pain he caused others. Her voice dipped to a whisper. “No one is more aware of my precarious position than I. I’ll act my part, and no one will ever guess I’m a murderess.”
Christian frowned. “Shush, don’t speak nonsense. You did what you had to do and defended yourself against the traitor. Should you have died or allowed your capture in order to line our enemy’s pockets with silver?”
She sighed. T’was a familiar argument. “I know I had no choice. Still, the nightmare plagues me. I’ve prayed and I know the Lord has forgiven me, but I can still feel Hawk’s blood on my hands.”
In the flickering candlelight of the stairwell, her friend’s expression changed to one of concern as he displayed a rare moment of seriousness. “I know, but you should put your mind at ease. You didn’t pull the trigger or intend to see him dead. In my estimation, the world is a far better place without a turncoat among us.”
“Perhaps, but I wish I’d not been the one involved.”
“Trust me, the memory will fade in time.” Christian pulled her close for a brief hug. “Now, tell me of your new orders.”
They continued down the stairs, and she grew more reluctant with each step. “His name is Drake Amberly. He claims to be a ship owner interested in reestablishing trade with colonies under British control. Zechariah wants to know if he can be persuaded to join our cause.”
Christian frowned. “I met Amberly yesterday in Charles Towne. He’s a disturbing gent, not one to tangle with, I’d wager. He conveys an easy temper, but there’s a menace about him, a danger he fails to conceal completely. Be careful of the man.”
Elise took his advice to heart. “It’s time we changed our conversation. This close to our destination even the walls are listening.”
They