The Tory's Daughter, page 16
“Hannah.”
She tipped her face toward his. Joseph’s blue eyes searched hers as he cupped the side of her face. She let herself lean into the embrace. He loved her. Even if only a little. Why else would he hold her like this?
Unless he had simply thought of a way in which she could repay him.
Joseph ducked his head and touched her mouth. First with his finger. Then with his lips. No movement, just their mouths touching, lingering on the brink of something more.
A shiver moved through her. She’d never wanted anything so much, and feared it so greatly. The moment seemed to balance on one question that remained unanswered.
Did he love her?
Pressure built upon her mouth, and she realized he was kissing her. Soft at first, but then with an increasing neediness. Or longing? She couldn’t be sure which, but a huge chasm divided the two. What if she were only a memory of Fannie?
Joseph, please…
How could she fight against something she craved so dearly?
One of his hands slipped to the bow she had just tied and he pulled the ends free. His kiss paused as he looked at her face. He froze, his gaze never wavering though the light of moments earlier slowly faded away. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “We should go down to dinner.” Without another word, he collected his hat and moved to the door.
Hannah gasped for a breath, but it wouldn’t come. All her attempts to emulate Fannie, and to what end? So that Joseph could lose himself in a memory? Reality was not so kind to him. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d looked at her and saw her as she was. No, she could never be Fannie. And what good was his love if it wasn’t for her?
24
Joseph stared at the streak of dim blue stretching from the window and across the blackened ceiling. The path of light extended almost to the far wall before it came to an abrupt end. Darkness continued in its place. How like Hannah that light was, bursting through the sorrow and loneliness that had enshrouded him. He didn’t want to face the darkness again.
He rolled on his side. The floor felt even harder with her in the bed only feet from him. But instead of helping himself to a side of the bed like he would have done in the past, he laid out a quilt for himself on the floor, the fear he had seen in her eyes hours earlier reining him like the jerk of an iron bit.
Why would she fear him? Didn’t she see how much he cared for her, that he only wanted to make her happy? To hold her and love her? He smothered a groan in his hands. What had he done? Her youth and inexperience was her virtue. He’d frightened her. If he wanted her heart, he would have to proceed slowly and gently.
He couldn’t afford to lose Hannah now.
Eyes closed, Joseph let himself recall the feel of her in his arms, the softening of her lips against his. A short moment when she had returned his kiss. He clung to that as he fell asleep.
In the morning, he awoke to find Hannah already dressed and ready to leave. He covered a yawn and climbed to his feet. “I’ll meet you downstairs if you wish,” he said as he returned the quilt and pillow to the bed she’d already made up.
She gave a curt nod and left.
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He didn’t understand the sudden ice in her eyes when she looked at him. She was no longer afraid. She was angry.
By the time he made it downstairs, Hannah pushed her plate aside and stood from the table. “You sit and eat your breakfast. I have plans of my own today. You’ve done too much for me already.”
“What?”
“I’ll make some inquiries on my own. You needn’t bother yourself.” She turned to go.
“It’s the reason I rode, mostly walked, over a hundred miles, and now you are concerned about me bothering myself?”
She rotated to him and leaned in. “Well, I’m sorry to have dragged you all this way.” Though whispered, her words cut.
“Hannah, why are you angry with me?” He kept his voice low and led her toward the stairway, away from the curious stares and listening ears of others in the room. “Is this about last night? Because I kissed you?”
“Of course not.” But her voice rose the way it always did when he had her upset. “I merely don’t want you to trouble yourself on my account.” She spun and broke from his grasp.
Joseph let her go this time. If she wanted to search on her own, so be it. There were other places he could ask about Samuel. Yesterday Joseph had gleaned from their brief exchange at the local headquarters in Albany that the 1st New York Regiment had rejoined the Northern Department days ago. They camped only miles from the city. Maybe if he found a lead to her brother’s whereabouts, Hannah would forgive him for his crime. He was obviously guilty of something.
Joseph declined breakfast and hurried to the stable to ready Hunter. A few hours later he’d found the encampment where he was shuffled from one officer to another until he stood in the front of a captain’s tent. He hoped the burly man would have some answers—or at least point him in the right direction.
Joseph barely explained his purpose when he was waved away.
“I have no time for this.”
And yet this is what Joseph had sacrificed weeks for. “You do not even recognize the name?”
The captain laughed out loud. “How could you expect me to remember one boy from the thousands I’ve led over the last half-decade?”
“But you have records.”
“Of course, but they are for army use only and I see no uniform on you. Never mind rank or office. Have you even served in our army or for our cause?”
“Not in the army, but I—”
“We are in the middle of a war, and I have little time for a man who does not value our freedom as I do.”
Joseph gritted his teeth. “I had no need to go out to find the war. It came to me—onto my land, stealing my family. I have fought the British and the Tories with as much determination as any of your soldiers in their uniforms.”
The officer shook his head and turned on his heel, leaving Joseph to his indignation. Did the man have any idea what they had faced in the Mohawk Valley between raiders and British advances? Joseph snatched Hunter’s reins and swung aboard. First Hannah, and now arrogant captains.
Joseph headed back toward the inn. He should check to see if Hannah had returned. Gradually he relaxed into Hunter’s gait, though he scanned the faces of those he passed. How did they see him? A backwoods farmer? A man who only worried about protecting his own land instead of taking the offensive against the British? A fool?
A dark-haired lady and a man passed him in a light wagon, and Joseph jerked back on the reins and pulled Hunter’s head around. The man had a very familiar look about him. But it couldn’t be.
Could it?
He brought Hunter alongside the wagon, riding up far enough to make out the man’s face. “I dare not trust my eyes.”
Daniel Reid twisted in his seat, and confirmed the truth of his identity.
“Heard you were on your way back, but never dreamt of meeting you way out here,” Joseph said with a grin.
Daniel laughed in disbelief. “Joseph? What are you doing here?” He glanced at the young woman beside him, who watched with her pale eyes and pursed brow. “This is one of my oldest friends. And my brother-in-law. Married to my sister Fannie.”
Joseph frowned. Did Daniel not know?
“We are on our way home,” Daniel continued, turning again to Joseph. “I had hoped to return before spring planting, but…” A smile stretched across his face. “But first I should introduce you to Mrs. Lydia Reid.”
Joseph cocked his head. “Reid?”
“My wife.”
He took a little longer in his assessment of the woman. She was lovely, her complexion much like Fannie’s had been, but there was something different about her. Perhaps the fine cut of her gown, very different from the more practical ones worn by woman on the frontier. Her gloved hands. Her demure smile.
“I am very pleased to know you after everything Daniel has told me.” She spoke with a definite tone—a very cultured one.
“You as well?” He eyed Daniel. “You were supposed to be off fighting the British. When did you have time to find a wife?”
“By miracle I found time for both, but that is a long story, and we are in the middle of the road. Where are you bound?”
“To the Huntsman Inn just up the way. And you?”
“We’ve just arrived and have not settled on a place to stay yet, so let me turn around and I shall follow you.”
“Splendid.” Joseph inwardly cringed as he remembered the news he had to break to Daniel, news that was not right to speak in the middle of the street. “I have much to tell you.”
“And I am famished for word of my family.”
Joseph rode ahead, working out in his mind how he would inform Daniel of his sister’s death. Oh Lord, please don’t let Hannah have returned yet. Perhaps they could send Lydia in to make herself comfortable while they cared for the horses. That would give Joseph a moment to explain everything that had happened and why he had come to Albany.
He remained with Hunter as Daniel helped his wife down from their wagon. She gave a little moan, and Daniel steadied her. “How do you feel?”
“I will be fine as soon as I can lay down for a little while. And eat something.”
Joseph stepped near. “Are you unwell?”
Red touched her cheeks. “I—”
“She is with child,” Daniel said, pleasure displacing much of the concern of moments before. “The reason I did not make it home any earlier. She was quite ill at the beginning so we stayed on with her kin in Virginia until she felt well enough to travel. We’ve come a far piece over the last few days.”
Joseph extended his hand and clasped Daniel’s. “Congratulations. To you both.” He quickly tied off Hunter’s reins. “Let’s get her inside and settled before we worry about anything else.”
Like the horses. Like the bearing of bad news.
They made it as far as the door when Mr. Barstow swung it wide. “Oh, Mr. Garnet, I thought I heard your voice. Your wife just returned and was inquiring for you.”
Daniel pivoted. “Fannie’s here? And the children?”
Joseph opened his mouth to speak, but Hannah stood just inside the doorway.
“Oh,” said the innkeeper, “There she is.”
~*~
Hannah spied Joseph through the door and stepped that direction. Her search had been fruitless, and she was anxious to know if he had any success. She’d put aside her hurt and even her heart for the sake of her brothers.
The innkeeper mumbled something and the color drained from under Joseph’s tanned skin. But perhaps that had something to do with the young couple standing with him. The man looked somewhat familiar, but he faced Joseph.
Her next step faltered. She did know those dark waves and broad shoulders. And she recognized the coal-like gaze he turned toward her.
“Where is she?” He scanned the room.
“Daniel…” Joseph’s voice crackled. He mumbled something Hannah couldn’t quite make out.
“But he said—”
“Don’t worry about what he said. Not yet. First we need to talk.”
“But…” Daniel looked from Hannah to Joseph, and back again. “She looks familiar.”
“Of course I do.” Hannah pressed a tight smile. “We were once neighbors.”
“Cunningham? The Tory’s daughter?”
She bit her tongue so hard it hurt. She shouldn’t say anything, but he spat her family’s name as if it tasted foul. And Joseph stood there mute. “You do remember. But that would no longer be correct.” She raised her chin and refused to look at Joseph, his widening eyes, the look of horror. “But my name is Garnet now.”
Hannah didn’t wait for her words to take effect. Gathering her skirts so she wouldn’t trip over her hem, she lengthened her stride to the stairs. She would grant Joseph enough mercy to not make him explain himself in front of her. She didn’t want to hear his excuses anyway.
She waited in their room, seated on the edge of the bed, half wondering if he simply wouldn’t return. How could she blame him if he didn’t? After everything he’d done for her, she’d given nothing in return. Only frustration. She’d fought him. Argued with him. Refused him. And shamed him…merely by her existence in his life.
With the lowering of the sun in the window, shadows lengthened across the room before the door cracked open and Joseph stepped in.
Hannah flopped back on the bed and stared at up at the ceiling. It would have been easier if he’d left her here.
“Why are you angry with me? Or…I don’t know. I don’t know what you are thinking. Or feeling. I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to…” He blew out a breath.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. And I’m sorry.” Tears singed her eyes and she blinked them back.
“Is that what you think? That I didn’t want Daniel to know that you are my wife? That I’m ashamed?”
Hannah hugged herself. Hearing her fears voiced by him only made them sound worse.
“The only thing I struggled to tell Daniel, was that his sister is dead. How do you look a man in the eyes and tell something like that?” Joseph slumped against the wall beside the door and drew his hat from his head. “How do you tell anyone that?”
“I’m sorry. I did not think...” She hadn’t thought any of this through.
He sighed. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He knows. I told him about Fannie. I told him about us. I told him about your brothers. I even asked for his help.”
She pushed up on her elbows. “I don’t want his help.”
Joseph’s blue eyes hardened. “Well, I think we need it. At least he has some credibility with the army. The farther east we come, the less they want to talk to me.”
They hadn’t much wanted to make time for her either. “Fine.”
“Good.”
“Anything else?”
“No.” He straightened and looked as though he might leave, but didn’t. “I mean, yes. I’d like to know what you want from me.”
“What do you mean?”
Joseph raised his hands and took a step closer. “I asked you a question once, and I’d like an answer. We were talking about what would happen after we found your brothers. I asked what you wanted.” Another step. “What do you want?”
He was much too close now, almost to the bed.
“After growing up with Rachel and being married to Fannie, I figured I understood women well enough. But I can’t figure you.”
She wasn’t sure about herself either. She’d never felt such a swirl of feelings.
Joseph stepped back. “Are you coming down to dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.” At least she had an answer for that.
“Well I’m starved.” He stalked away. The door echoed his departure.
Hannah flopped back on the bed. She’d been wrong to tell Daniel, not giving Joseph time to explain. What right did she have to call herself Joseph’s wife, when she did not act like a wife? A man had the right to sleep in his bed and lay with his wife. To kiss her. To hold her. And isn’t that what she wanted, too?
Maybe Joseph didn’t love her yet, but how would he ever learn to if she kept him at arm’s length?
25
The hard chair made Joseph’s backside ache, and not more than an inch of yellowy wax remained of the candle in the center of the table, but he still had no desire to move. Instead, he watched the flame flicker while he listened to the conversation and laughter from the only other table that hadn’t lost its occupants. The three men seated there had not been stingy with their consumption of ale.
Maybe that’s what he needed.
Joseph shook his head. Pa hadn’t agreed with men losing themselves in a jug or bottle. A man kept his head clear and did not cower from his problems.
Pa’s life had probably never been as complicated as his.
Joseph pressed his fingers into his temples and massaged the ache growing there. Life with Fannie had been simple. She kept the house, cooked the meals, and minded the baby while he worked the land and kept it safe. In the evening, light conversation about daily happenings and playing with little James had given life a feeling of completeness. And then he lay beside his wife in the bed they shared.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Daniel lowered into the chair across from him.
“Just trying to figure out what I’m doing out here.”
“Your explanation to me made sense.”
Joseph leaned his elbows on the table. “Made sense to me once, too. But sometimes I wonder if I am doing any good. If everything would have been better off if I’d stayed where I belong. Rachel and Andrew have the children and two farms to look after.”
“I am sure they are fine. Not that I know Andrew well.” He smiled tightly. “But Rachel has always been independent and resourceful, and I can’t believe she would give her heart to a man who couldn’t keep pace beside her.”
Joseph contained his grimace. Daniel had once done everything within his power to win Rachel’s heart, only to concede defeat and retreat for three-and-a-half years. And yet, it had not been difficult to see the way Daniel looked at his wife. He loved her very much. Even more so than he had once cared for Rachel.
“Besides, I can’t imagine them not having any record here for the Cunningham boys. And as I said, I shall help. Lydia needs a rest before we continue up the valley. Myles and Samuel, right? Shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”
“Actually, there is only one left to find. Myles was shot for desertion. Cyrus Acker told us before we left and it was confirmed at Fort Rensselaer.”
Daniel glanced up as Mr. Barstow approached with a jug. “No. Thank you.” He looked back at Joseph. “I am sorry to say that doesn’t surprise me much. That boy was too proud. Like his father. But Samuel. He struck me as someone who liked to please people, keep everyone happy. He’ll probably have fared well enough as long as he wasn’t killed in battle. He was young enough they might have kept him for messages and fetching and carrying for officers.”
