Love’s Betrayal (14 page)

“I am not in the least surprised.”

She glanced down into her lap. “I have a habit of fearing those things that mean no harm and ignoring real danger.”

“I have never meant to harm you,” he whispered. With more courage than he ever imagined, he lifted her chin with his finger. Surprise illuminated her gaze, but he refused to back down. Slowly he descended upon the softness of her mouth, drinking in a light kiss and praying she would not find him repugnant.

“Delight!”

S
tartled, Delight peered up into Charity's astonished face. “You should be ashamed.” Her sister's tone was laced with indignation.

Delight stammered for words. Up until a few weeks ago, she had never had a problem speaking her mind clearly—and quickly—with words that cut deeper than a sharp hunting knife.

“Papa hasn't been gone two hours and already you are behaving indecently. You are a disgrace.” Charity wagged a finger in front of Delight's face. Judgment seeped from the pores of her skin. “You should have lingered for Mama. Abby Rutherford stopped by to tell her Papa was bound for eternal punishment for joining the patriots.”

Shaking her head to dispel the accusations and the neighbor's judgmental words, Delight fought the urge to tell her sister to mind her own affairs.

“And I thought you felt something for James. Now I see you are fickle … or are you toying with both men's affections?” Charity lifted her chin. “We all are going to church to pray with Mama. Looks like you need to be on your face repenting for your sordid actions.” She crossed her arms over her chest as if to punctuate her declaration.

“I have done nothing to dishonor God or shame my family. You, sweet sister, are the one who is viewing matters as evil when I am innocent.”

Henry rose to his feet. He appeared impassive, as though the hostility between the two sisters was nothing more than an exchange of pleasantries over a cup of tea. “Charity.” The low timbre of his voice issued confidence and control.

I don't need him to defend me,
Delight thought. “Henry—”

His look stopped any further utterances. It reminded her of Papa when he expected her to cease everything immediately and do his bidding.

“Delight longed for a solitary place where she could grieve your father's departure and the impending danger of war. I sensed her sorrow and followed for the sole purpose of offering comfort, which is exactly what happened here.”

“But … you exchanged a kiss!”

“Precisely so. I initiated it, taking advantage of her weakened state, an action for which I sincerely apologize.”

“Henry,” Delight interrupted, “you must not shelter all the blame.” She stared into his eyes and saw the tenderness she'd seen previously. A fluttering sensation jolted across her stomach. “I did not attempt to stop you.”

“Nonsense, Delight. I am sorry for me bold actions.”

Do you regret the kiss?

“Please.” Charity's eyes brimmed with tears. “I shouldn't have lashed out at you. Mistress Rutherford acted so cruelly and was so self-righteous. Then you two looked … I thought—”

Henry stepped forward and touched her arm. “Ye are hurting, too. 'Tis nothing wrong with feeling as ye do with your father leaving.”

Charity nodded, unable to speak for the tears rolling over her cheeks. Compassion overtook Delight, and she gathered up her sister into her arms.

“Forgive me,” Charity said between sobs.

“I am not offended. We all are suffering from the reality of Papa joining the war, but quarreling is not the answer, and I can be the worst offender in that regard. I believe we must show our love for him by extending it to each other. Imagine Mama's torment.” Delight's gaze fell on Henry, who seemed to be studying her. A smile passed between them. This time she felt no fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Instead a strange and lovely warmth filled her. In one brief moment, all thoughts of James Daniels vanished in a light that could never measure up to Henry O'Neill.
I love him. I sincerely do.

“Shall we join Mistress Butler and the others for prayer?” he said.

Charity lifted her head from Delight's shoulder and took the handkerchief her sister offered.

“It is a little damp,” Delight said. “Henry gave it to me earlier, and I soaked it thoroughly.”

“I shall merely find a dry spot.” Her sister attempted a trembling half smile. “I can always use my petticoat as we did when we were children.”

“Excuse me, ladies. If ye are considering such actions, then I will go on ahead.” Henry chuckled, breaking the tension in the air.

“Oh no.” Delight raised a brow. “We need an escort.” In the midst of laughter, she realized her affections did include Charity, the sister who had always vexed her so. She brushed the curly wisps of damp hair away from Charity's face and kissed her forehead. Just as Papa always did.

Henry spent the next few days with one eye on the road and one ear listening for British soldiers. If caught, he'd be forced back into the uniform of the enemy, and be required to wield a bayonet in front of those he'd come to respect. He told himself on more than one occasion that he'd fall to his demise before raising a hand to stifle the patriot cause.

Soon James would arrive. Henry planned to ask him about enlisting in the Continental army as soon as possible. His leg needed only a few more days to heal properly. In the meantime, he would pass his time weaving for the people of Chesterfield and treasuring every moment spent with Delight.

Dare I reveal the depth of my feelings before I leave?
He believed she felt the same, because he'd seen it in her eyes. During those times when he sat weaving outside beneath the maple, he dreamed of living out his days in America with Delight beside him.
Oh God, by all Ye deem holy, am I wrong to ask for this fair lass? I want to love her as Ye have instructed in Your own Word—as Christ cherishes the Church. Hear me cry, Holy God.

Henry prayed God did not regard his plea as selfish, although he knew desiring something for himself held all those qualities. He prayed for this wondrous land, destined to one day be the greatest in all the world. With the ideals of the brave patriots, America's destiny could be no less. Here, God willing, he would live out his life and one day raise a fine family.

“Henry?”

He raised his sights, knowing the sound of Delight's voice. Her tone held a soft repose when she talked to him, just as he envisioned the sounds of the choirs of heaven echoed through the universe.

“Am I interrupting you?”

“Nay, lass.”

“You looked so faraway, as though you held private sanctuary with God, and I surely did not wish to interfere.”

“Truthfully, my thoughts were on the things of God.” He rested his hands on his knee. “But I am finished for now. What can I do for ye?”

She slipped down to the leaf-covered earth beside him. A brisk breeze obviously coaxed a gasp from her, for she massaged her arms lightly. “Winter is coming.” She wrapped her woolen shawl tightly about her. “Henry, you need an outer garment.”

He laughed. “My coat is the British uniform. I believe I would rather be cold.”

She glanced away, and he saw the visible traces of sadness etching her face. “I believe Uncle Matthew has an extra outer garment. I will fetch it today for you.”

“How generous of you. But I don't have money to pay.”

“He offered when you wove aprons for Aunt Anne.”

He hesitated. “It is time I enlisted.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Is now the time to speak to her, Lord?

“Not yet, My son. Wait for Me.”

The clear direction caused him to bridle his tongue.

“See, you are chilled,” Delight said. “I will get a blanket from inside to wrap about your shoulders until I return with a coat.” When he protested, she raised her chin. “You can't do the patriots a bit of good if you are ill. I nursed you once, and I daresay you remember how difficult I can be.”

“Nay, I remember an angel's touch.” He could not stop a teasing grin. “One with eyes of fire.”

She instantly sobered. “I am sorry for the way I treated you.”

“Are ye now?” He forced a jovial disposition, sensing her melancholia.

“Yes, and do not make light of me. I will sorely miss you, Henry O'Neill.” She anchored her hands onto her hips.

He wanted to pull her close to him and kiss her soundly. But he restrained his emotions, wondering if another impetuous act might displease God or anger her. “I will miss ye, too—everything about ye.”

Silence invaded their small place. In the distance a dog barked, and birds sang above them as though everything about the world rested secure. Reality spoke otherwise.
Thank Thee, Lord, for moments of reprieve when the rest of the world moans and shudders.

“Promise me you won't get hurt.” She lifted her hands from her hips and let them dangle at her side.

Heaviness settled upon his shoulders. “That is impossible, lass. Only the heavenly Father knows the future.”

She drew in a breath and blinked hastily.

“But I will promise to heed caution and to serve the Continental army to me utmost.”

“I expect you to exceed even those expectations.”

“I am only a man guided by God.”

“Then I pray He keeps you in the shelter of His wings.”

Will ye prayers always include me? Dare I hope so?
Henry swallowed the endearing words he yearned to speak. Silently he proclaimed his devotion until God willed him to make his declaration of love. He recalled the late-night conversation he'd shared with Elijah before his friend's departure.

“You have my permission to wed Delight,” Elijah had said. “I can't think of a finer husband for my daughter or son-in-law for Elizabeth and me. My blessings, Henry. Aye, she can be a handful, but you will never find greater devotion.”

“Thank ye, Elijah. I admit I don't know how she feels, but I know my heart.”

Elijah laughed heartily. “Delight may not understand her own sentiments, but I do see your favor in her eyes.”

Since then, Henry had looked intently into his beloved's eyes at every opportunity, hoping for a glimpse of love. At times he felt certain. Other times he doubted she felt anything at all. Perhaps he merely read words into her silent messages or the tone of her voice.

“I did come to tell you something.” Delight's voice broke into his pondering. “Mama said James will be arriving by nightfall tomorrow.”

Delight left Henry in the cold air and walked back into the house to tell Mama about hurrying to Aunt Anne's for the promised coat. Taking a deep breath, she wished she could muster the courage to tell Henry that James meant nothing to her. But if she made the claim, then he would surely see her growing feelings for him. The idea of Henry not sharing the same affections sounded more devastating than not knowing his feelings at all.

Charity had admitted her fondness for James, and Delight had wished her God's blessing. How odd and yet wonderful that it took a misunderstanding to bring the two sisters closer together. All these years they had quarreled with and avoided each other, and now they were inseparable. Indeed they giggled and talked late into the night like dear companions.

“Henry does care for you,” Charity had whispered just last evening while the rest of the house slept.

“Are you certain?” Delight's pulse quickened at the thought.

“Absolutely, without a doubt. He has eyes only for you, as though you hung the stars in the sky.”

“Is that blasphemy?”

Charity sighed. “I pray not, for he is a godly man, and I sense his great love.”

“Oh Charity, if only he would speak to me about his feelings. I ache to hear any words of endearment.” She shivered with the truth echoing through her. “Yet I am fearful if something should happen to him.”