Read Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) Online

Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #18th Century, #American Revolution, #LAVENDER LIES, #Adult, #Adventure, #Action, #Jail Cell, #Brother's Disgrace, #Deceased, #Colonial Wench, #Female Spy, #Rendezvous, #Embrace, #Enchanted, #Patriotic, #Englishman, #Mission, #Temptation, #American Agent, #Colonies, #Code Name, #Swallow

Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) (10 page)

BOOK: Lavender Lies (Historical Romance)
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"She has the kindest heart of anyone I know. She loves you, Chandler, and would forgive you anything. You saw her put her life in danger to free you."

"How did she know where to find me?"

Nicodemus's eyes became secretive again. "You can ask her when she wakes up."

Chandler reached out and removed a straw that had tangled in his sister's hair. "She is beautiful, Nicodemus. I don't care if she is my sister, I have seen no woman who could rival her in looks."

Nicodemus laughed softly. "She is your twin, you handsome devil. She has the look of you, only where she is all soft and pretty, you are hard and manly."

Chandler closed his eyes. "You have given me much to think on, Nicodemus. I am so tired . . ."

Nicodemus saw Chandler's head fall sideways, and he knew the young man had fallen into an exhausted sleep. With very little effort he pulled Chandler to the straw bed without disturbing his sleep. Nicodemus flexed his tired muscles and picked up his rifle. He would keep his vigil so no harm would come to his two charges.

 

Julian was unable to sleep because visions of two very blue eyes kept dancing through his mind. He could still remember the sweetness of her lips beneath his, the way her golden hair had reflected the candlelight, and he knew her angelic face would haunt him the rest of his life.

He was irritated, more than a little, because he was allowing a woman to interfere with his sleep. He fluffed his pillow and lay back against it, trying to clear his mind. He had important matters to attend to. There was no time to chase after a flighty woman. Still, he could send a note around asking if he could call on her in the evening—if he knew where to send it.

He muttered an oath and clasped his hands behind his head, watching the morning sunlight chase the night shadows across his bedroom wall. No woman was worth a man's peace of mind, let alone depriving him of his sleep.

Finally, in frustration he threw the bed covers off and came to his feet. He might as well get up, it was for sure he wasn't going to get any sleep. As he rang for his valet, Hendrick, and waited for him to appear, he wondered why Miss Lowell had left so hastily last night. Perhaps he had been too bold with her—after all, it had been very apparent that she was an innocent. He must have frightened her.

All the time Hendrick was helping him dress, Julian was pondering a way to make amends for his actions the night before. He was glad he had accepted the invitation to breakfast with Cornwallis, because it would give him a chance to persuade the general to tell him where Miss Lowell lived.

 

Cornwallis paused with his butter knife in midair. "You really must try the muffins, Your Grace. They are made of ground corn, and the taste is most extraordinary. The Colonists call them Indian slapjacks. I haven't eaten anything half so delicious since the war started. I am going to take the recipe home with me so my cook can prepare them for me."

"You have become a man of simple tastes, Charles." Julian lifted his tea cup and took a sip before continuing. "1 will leave the corn to the Indians, the war to your astute management, and the Colonists to Providence."

The general laughed merrily. "What hornet got into your brain? You were in a good mood last night, what happened?"

Julian frowned. "Why does something have to be the matter just because I reject your muffin, or whatever it is you call it."

Jovial laughter met Julian's ear. "By all that's holy, I know what's the matter with you. It's Miss Lowell, isn't it?" He leaned in closer with eagerness showing in his eyes. "She spurned you, didn't she?"

Julian was having trouble keeping his impatience under control. "Have a care, Charles. You know I never discuss a lady over breakfast." His eyelashes half covered his eyes. "By the way, while we are on the subject of Miss Lowell, I wonder if you would tell me where she lives?"

Cornwallis could hardly control his facial muscles, but he did manage not to laugh aloud. "I have never known you to allow your interest in a woman to last past one day. So you like our little Colonist?"

"I am in no mood to appease your curiosity. Just tell me where she lives, and I'll do the rest." Julian's voice was dry and commanding.

Before Cornwallis could reply, there was a clamor at the door, and his aide burst in. "Begging your pardon, sir," he addressed his commander. "There is a Sergeant Patrick Riley to see you on an urgent matter."

"Can it not wait until after we have finished our meal?" Cornwallis asked in irritation.

"I thought you might want to be informed about this matter, sir. It concerns several prisoners who escaped the guardhouse last night."

"How could that possibly be of interest to me? I assume that every effort is being implemented to pursue and recapture them?"

The aide did not appear the least put off by his superior. "Yes, sir, but I thought you might like to know that a woman was instrumental in their escape. You had asked to be informed on any activities that might concern the Swallow. Sergeant Riley has reason to believe it was the Swallow who freed the prisoners."

Julian slowly rose to his feet, the blood pounding through his body. "Send the man in at once. I want to hear what he has to say."

"At once, Your Grace," the aide answered respectfully. Bowing and clicking his heels together, he turned to walk stiffly out of the room.

"What  lunacy  is  this,   Charles?"  Julian's voice thundered out. "Why is it always assumed that the Swallow lurks around every corner. It is my belief that no woman can strike in so many places. I surmise that she is credited with several crimes she did not commit. Do your men jump at shadows and fear they see this woman hiding behind every bush?"

Cornwallis was unabashed. Dabbing at his lips with his napkin, he leaned back and stared at the duke. "You came to Charleston on the presumption that the Swallow would be operating in the vicinity. Suppose you question this sergeant and draw your own conclusions."

Julian's boots clicked against the wooden floor as he walked to the door and jerked it open, almost coming head to head with a stupefied Sergeant Riley. With a waving motion, Julian directed the Irishman into the room.

Sergeant Riley stood at attention before Cornwallis, his commanding general. He had never been in the great man's presence and quaked at the notion that he would be severely punished for allowing his prisoners to escape.

The general remained seated as he stared at the nervous soldier, while Julian's face showed his impatience. "You are Sergeant Riley, are you not?" the general asked.

"Yes, General, sir, I am Sergeant Riley" came the ready reply.

"This is His Grace, the Duke of Mannington. You can speak freely in front of him. Inform us of the events that occurred last night."

The sergeant's face reddened. "Well, sir," he said, directing his conversation to the Duke of Mannington.

"I was two hours into my watch when a young woman came bursting through the door. She appeared most distressed and asked if I would help her." He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. The duke's piercing gaze was overwhelming, but the sergeant dared not look away. "I am willing to take full responsibility for the escape, Your Grace. It was unpardonable of me to leave my post. I will gladly take whatever punishment—"

"What did this woman look like?" Julian demanded to know.

Sergeant Riley licked his dry lips. "I never would have suspected her of such a dark deed, Your Grace. She appeared to be an angel, so sweet and innocent."

Julian's eyes darkened. "Describe her to me in detail."

Riley began to relax a bit. The duke seemed more interested in the woman than in recommending any kind of punishment for himself. "I can remember thinking that her hair was like the sunrise on a spring morning. You know, Your Grace, how the sunlight looks when it first touches the sky."

Julian glanced at Charles with a sneer on his lips. "Your man is a poet. Perhaps you could get him to write a glowing sonnet to this woman."

Cornwallis came to his feet. "Allow him to continue, I am fascinated by his description." His eyes danced merrily. "If she is half as handsome as he paints, perhaps I will write a sonnet to her myself."

"So she had the face of an angel and hair like the sunshine," Julian affirmed. "Tell me more."

"Well, Your Grace, she was dressed in this white gown, except that across the top and down the skirt was the design of a peacock."

Julian tensed, feeling sick inside. "Say that again," he demanded harshly.

Sergeant Riley was confused. "Do you mean the part about the design of a peacock on her gown?"

Julian and Charles Cornwallis locked eyes. "By God, what folly is this?" Cornwallis's voice thundered. "You have just described the sister of a man who died bravely fighting for king and country. I will not allow you to denigrate Madeline Lowell's name."

Poor Riley looked confused. "Sir, I assure you I only described the woman as she appeared last night. I have no—

Julian felt as if something hard had just slammed into his midsection. "That will be all, Sergeant Riley," he said in a deadly calm voice. "Remain on the premises. We shall undoubtedly have more questions for you later on."

As Julian sank down in a chair, Cornwallis watched the sergeant depart. "Here is a pretty kettle of fish, Your Grace. If Madeline Lowell is the Swallow, I find it highly unlikely that she is Daniel's sister."

Julian felt sick inside. Like his own brother, and who knows how many other men, he had held the Swallow in his arms and kissed her, fascinated by her beauty. He hadn't been able to sleep last night for remembering her sweetness. The fury that burned in his heart was so strong that he wanted to strangle her with his bare hands. How she must have laughed at him last night, while he acted her fool.

"I believe when you launch your investigation, Charles, you will discover that Daniel Lowell had no sister, or if he did, the woman who attended your gala was not her."

"This is preposterous! You can damned well be sure I will get to the bottom of this."

Julian now knew what had caused his brother, William, to fall prey to the Swallow's charms. She was beautiful and bewitching. How fortunate for her that treachery and deceitfulness did not show on one's face. But Julian would have sworn she was an innocent. Perhaps therein lay her ability to be successful with her crafty schemes. He was more determined than ever to capture the Swallow. He was one step closer to capturing her after last night—for now he knew what her face looked like!

"What are your plans, Your Grace? Surely you are not going back to Williamsburg now that she knows who you are?"

"Not only am I going back, I am going to act as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Sooner or later she will make a mistake, and 1 will have her."

General Cornwallis was a seasoned soldier, but even he shivered at the angry gleam in Julian's eyes. "I will clip the wings of the Swallow once and for all," His Grace vowed.

 

 

8

 

Lavender awoke with an unfamiliar aroma assaulting her senses. It took her several moments to identify the smell as fresh hay. Slowly she raised up on her elbows, examining her surroundings in total bewilderment. Why was she in a barn? Memories of the night before came crashing in on her, and she jumped to her feet. She must have slept for hours, because the eastern sky was tinted a rosy glow, indicating that it was almost sunup.

A quick glance alerted her to the fact that she was alone. Where were Chandler and Nicodemus? Had something happened to them while she slept?

She had been trained to be vigilant and guarded, so her mind worked quickly when she stepped outside into the crisp morning air. Tension tied her nerves in knots as her eyes moved past the burned remains of the farmhouse to a creek at the bottom of a grassy slope. Her apprehension melted when she saw her brother watering the horses in the creek.

Chandler must have heard her approach because he glanced up and smiled. When he held his arms out to her, she ran to him and was enfolded in a warm hug, while happiness made her eyes dance. She realized he must have gone for a swim in the creek because water glistened on his golden hair. She rested her face against his wide chest, feeling his steady heartbeat.

"Why didn't you awaken me? I would have liked to have gone swimming with you."

"You have had a very trying ordeal, so I decided you needed the sleep more than you needed to swim, little sister."

Lavender was not accustomed to remaining long in one place when she had just completed a mission as the Swallow. There was always the chance she might be captured if she didn't keep moving. "Should we not ride on? The British have had plenty of time to form a patrol and come after us. I feel sure we are being followed by now."

Chandler held Lavender away from him and allowed his eyes to move over her face. "There is no reason that you should be concerned, Lavender. We are safe enough here."

Putting her uneasiness aside for the moment, she laced her fingers through his. "It is so marvelous to see you again, Chandler. I have missed you a great deal."

"I know, honey, and I regret that I have not been there for you when you needed me. Nicodemus has told me what it has been like for you, living with Aunt Amelia."

She searched his eyes. "What else has Nicodemus told you?"

"He made some very confusing statements which he said you could explain."

She moved away from Chandler, and to avoid eye contact with him glanced at the burned-out farmhouse instead. She hesitated to tell him that she was the Swallow, for fear he would not understand her motives. "I am starving, is there anything to eat?" she asked, hoping to move the conversation in a different direction.

Chandler, however, was not to be put off, and there was tension in his expression. "Nicodemus has gone to find something to eat," he stated in a vague voice before bringing the conversation back to her. "He went to great lengths last night
not
to tell me something that concerned you. Perhaps you can enlighten me on what he avoided saying."

She laced her fingers together nervously, not knowing where to begin. It would not be easy to tell Chandler about her escapades as the Swallow. Once more she searched her mind for something to distract him. She glanced down at her beautiful gown, noticing it was soiled and some of the threads forming the peacock tail were unraveling. "I must look a sight," she said, tucking a stray golden curl behind her ear. "I hope Nicodemus will remember to find me something more appropriate to wear."

In two strides, Chandler stood before Lavender, forcing her to meet his eyes. "What are you trying to hide from me, Lavender? I demand that you tell me what is going on here. How did you know where to find me?"

She met his eyes, and he thought how innocent and vulnerable she appeared. "Brainard Thruston informed me that you were being held prisoner and would most probably be executed if you weren't rescued," she answered in a small voice.

Chandler looked reflective as he took her hand and led her to an abandoned herb garden that had been choked out by weeds. When he had seated her on a wooden bench, he dropped down beside her. "Why would Brainard tell you where to find me, and why would he allow you to rescue me? Nicodemus said something about you being used by others, Lavender. If I find that Brainard Thruston has been using you in one of his preposterous schemes, I will kill him with my bare hands!"

Lavender realized she must disclose her secret identity to her brother, even though he would be furious with her afterward. Gathering up her courage, she spoke. "Chandler, I hope you will be understanding when I explain my circumstances to you. I assume you know that our father was a spy."

He stared at her long and hard. "I had often suspected that he was, but I never knew for certain."

"Well, he was a spy, Chandler, and I am told he was one of the best."

"Even if he was a spy, Lavender, what has it to do with you?"

This was going to be more difficult than she supposed. Already she could see puzzlement in her brother's eyes. When she spoke, her voice reflected the strain she was feeling. "I am trying to tell you, if you will just listen to me. This is very difficult for me. I want to make sure you understand my motives."

"I am listening."

"The night Papa was wounded, he had in his possession some extremely important documents. It was imperative that the papers be handed over to his contact at the Swan Tavern in Yorktown. Since he was unable to deliver them himself, he asked me to go in his place."

Disbelief registered in Chandler's blue eyes. "Are you telling me that Papa actually sent you into danger? I find this all very difficult to follow."

"I do not think Papa was aware that there would be danger. As it turned out, the British had already found out about the documents and were waiting at the tavern when I got there. I would have been arrested that night had it not been for Brainard Thruston."

"All right, I can see where you would have obeyed Father's wishes and gone to Yorktown for him, but what has that to do with now?"

"I know of no way to put it, other than to say it outright." She gazed into his eyes, dreading his reaction to her confession. "Have you heard of the . . . Swallow?"

"Yes, of course, but what has that to—" His face whitened. "No, Lavender, no. Do not tell me that you are— No, it is unthinkable."

She nodded, affirming his worst suspicions. "Yes, Chandler, I am the S-Swallow."

Several different emotions played across his face. First, incredulity and pride, then finally anger that Brainard had used his sister and placed her life in danger. "How can this be? The Swallow is only spoken of in vague whispers. It is said she is our most significant spy. There is a price on her head—dear God, a price on your head, Lavender!"

"Chandler, please try to understand. After Papa died I wanted to take up where he left off. Also I was angry that he had been killed by the British and wanted to avenge his death in some way. But, since I was his daughter I could not become a soldier as you had. When Brainard suggested 1 might take Papa's place, I did not have to consider long before I agreed. Neither Brainard nor I realized at the beginning how successful 1 would be."

"I cannot believe what 1 am hearing. How could you place yourself in danger?"

"I have considered quitting many times, but it's difficult to walk away when I am needed, Chandler."

He sprung to his feet and pulled her up beside him. "I will not have this, Lavender. Are you aware that if you are caught it will mean your life?"

"I have been aware of that from the beginning. If
you
place you life in jeopardy for what you believe in, why shouldn't I? Does the mere fact that I was born female keep me from performing my duty as I see it?'

His eyes were filled with pain when he pulled her head against his shoulder. "My sweet little sister, how can I make you understand that I don't want anything to happen to you? What you are doing is dangerous. I insist that the Swallow disappear, never to be heard from again."

She took in a long deep breath. "I suspect I will be forced to retire. You see, I attended General Cornwallis's party last night, and too many people saw my face. I am sure when they connect the events of your escape, it will not take them long to place the deed at my feet. It will take little imagination on their part to deduce that the woman at the party, and the one who helped you escape, were one and the same. After that, it shouldn't take them too long to conclude that she was also the Swallow. It seems I have outlasted my usefulness."

Silence grew heavy between the brother and sister. Chandler clasped her hand, while staring at the way the rising sun reflected on her golden hair. "If I had only known what was happening to you, I would have put a stop to this long ago. May I assume that Aunt Amelia does not know what you have been doing?"

"She has been the easiest of all to fool."

"What does she think you are doing when you are away for days at a time?"

Lavender smiled. "She believes I am working at the Public Hospital."

"How was that accomplished?"

"I have told you too much already, Chandler. I must not say anymore. Others depend on me to keep their identity a secret. I cannot betray that trust even to you."

He nodded. "I understand and respect that. Can I trust you to give up this foolhardy and dangerous way of life, Lavender?"

"As I said, it would seem I have little choice."

"I intend to call Brainard to an accounting the next time I see him. It is inconceivable to me that he has used my sister so ill."

She shook her head. "It wouldn't be fair to place the blame on Brainard. He did not force me to become the Swallow. It was something I chose to do. I could have said no."

He tenderly raked his fingers through her tangled hair and smoothed it over her shoulders. "Regardless of how angry I am at your participating in such a dangerous venture,  I am also very proud of you, Lavender." Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he dipped it in the bucket of water and washed away the smudges on her face. "Just think, my little sister is the famous Swallow."

She laughed in amusement. "I am not your little sister. If you will recall, I was born ten minutes before you—that makes me the elder."

He drew himself up to his full height, demonstrating that he towered a head above her. "Sassy face," he said with affection. "In twenty years I will remind you that you are senior to me, and we will see how you like that distinction then." Suddenly Chandler's mood became serious. "1 wish I didn't have to leave just now. I have a feeling that there are things you are keeping from me."

"I swore an oath of silence, Chandler. Already 1 have told you too much."

"I know, and I understand."

Her heart felt heavy. "Must you go away?"

His eyes conveyed sadness to her. "Yes, 1 fear I must leave within the hour. It is imperative that I reach Richmond with all possible haste so I can rejoin what is left of my unit."

She fought against the lonely feeling that was already closing in around her. Instinctively she knew that she must make it easy for him to go. "When will I see you again?"

"I will not desert you this time, sweet one. I will come to Williamsburg as soon as I am able. I do not intend to leave you at the mercy of Aunt Amelia for much longer. I have a plan in my mind that will enable us to be together before too long. Father left me the house in Richmond, perhaps we can live there. Would you like that?"

Tears made tiny beads on the tips of Lavender's long lashes. "Oh, Chandler, I would love that above all else." She had dreaded the thought of going back to her aunt. But now, with something to look forward to, she could endure anything.

"You have my word, Lavender, that I will never neglect you again. We only have each other, and I believe Mama and Papa would have wanted us to look after each other."

Hearing a rider approach, Chandler, in a protective motion, pushed Lavender behind him and yanked his pistol from his belt. Both brother and sister were relieved to see Nicodemus ride into sight.

Nicodemus slid off his horse, eyeing the gun Chandler crammed back in his belt. "We dine in style this morning," he announced. "1 found a farmhouse beyond the hills, and fortunately for us, the mistress had no love for the British. She was willing to give me whatever we needed when I told her we were running from enemy soldiers. She even sent along some of her son's clothing when I told her that I had a young lad with me who was in want of decent wearing apparel." He tossed a bundle to Lavender. "I believe this contains everything you will need."

Lavender laughed up at Nicodemus. "You never cease to amaze me. You have a way of turning a difficult situation into an adventure."

His eyes showed his pleasure at her words. "Don't stand there gawking, girl. Get dressed—we have a long ride ahead of us."

She quickly ducked into the barn to change her clothing. When she reappeared a short time later, she did indeed resemble a young boy. Chandler looked her over with a grin on his face. "It seems you will now pass for my brother rather than my sister. You are short in stature, and people will conclude that your growth was stunted."

BOOK: Lavender Lies (Historical Romance)
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