Moonlight Rebel (37 page)

The lieutenant withstood the taunts patiently, without comment. He felt the Colonists were entitled to display anger. It did them no good, but he would have done the same, in their stead.

"He's come now to rape our lands —and whatever else he can get his hands on." Morgan dared Sin-Jin to deny it.

"I assure you, sir, there will be no raping," Sin-Jin promised. "Of land or women. You have my word on it."

"Your word, pah! The word of a British officer."

Sin-Jin leveled a steady gaze at him. "And a gentleman." He looked about the large study again. It was oriented correctly. Riders could be seen coming in from the north. "The general will use this room for his headquarters."

As Morgan began to protest, Sin-Jin's voice softened with understanding. "Sir, it will be a lot easier on you and yours if you think of this as a war hardship and let it go at that. After all, we do have a right to seize this house if we need to," he reminded Morgan. "We are not exercising that right."

God, Sin-Jin thought, what right do I have to say this to the man? He hated being the general's fair-haired errand boy. He had spoken these same words to other plantation owners. He was weary. The war was beginning to get him down. He looked at Krystyna's face, grim now as she returned his gaze.

She thinks I've betrayed her, Sin-Jin guessed, wishing with all his heart that there had been some other way.

Morgan didn't care about laws that were passed without his say-so. "You are coming here against my wishes," he stated coldly, though he knew he was powerless to do anything about it.

"That, sir, I regret, is unfortunate, but necessary. I shall return with the general presently." Sin-Jin bowed, taking his leave.

"You'll be taking my food and drink under protest!" Morgan shouted after him. Sin-Jin didn't turn around.

Aaron took hold of his father's arm urgently. "Father, it's best not to get them angry."

"Why not?" Morgan demanded, shaking off Aaron's hand. "They've gotten me angry."

"Father," Aaron tried to reason with him, "they're representatives of the King and —"

"Damn it, when will you get it through your head? He's not my King!" Morgan bellowed. "If you want to grovel and bend your knee, that's your problem. I have no king. I am an American!"

They could all be hung for treason. Aaron looked around to see if the lieutenant had left a soldier anywhere nearby. "Not so loud," he warned.

"Bah!" Morgan waved a hand at his son. "You have no backbone. You can't stand up for what you believe in. You don't even stand up to me. I have no patience with mice!" He stormed from the room, furious at his impotence to act against the invading forces.

"Father's a fool," Savannah declared, though not so loudly, Krystyna noted, that her voice would carry. "The British are going to win this war. They're only toying with the Americans. The British Army is the finest in the world. It's only a matter of time until they take this war seriously, and then the loyalists will be rewarded." She was parroting Winthrop.

"But what if they do not win?" Krystyna posed the question.

Savannah gave her a frosty glance. "Of course they'll win," she snapped.

The woman is ignorant as well as arrogant, Krystyna thought. "They thought Goliath would win against David, but faith gives a man strength."

Savannah huffed. "What are you babbling about?"

"Your countrymen have great faith in freedom," Krystyna pointed out, knowing it was futile to discuss this with Savannah, who would hear only what she wished. "They have a great desire to rule themselves. They are fighting for a goal. The British soldiers are being told to fight. There is a great difference."

Savannah shrugged, but Aaron understood what Krystyna was saying. He shook his head. "That doesn't change the fact that the British are still the best soldiers."

"Or so the British think." Krystyna left the words hanging in her wake as she walked from the room.

"Stupid foreigner," Savannah called after her.

Lucinda left the room, unable to put up with Savannah any longer. She caught up to Krystyna and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Did you mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"Well, it sounded back there as if you'd chosen a side — that of the patriots."

Krystyna smiled. "By your description, so have you. The Americans would not be patriots if you believed in the British." She thought for a moment. Perhaps her feelings about the rebellion had been there all along. Perhaps that was why Jason's reticence on the matter had bothered her so. "Yes, I have chosen. I am for freedom. I always have been." She smiled at Lucinda. "Though if Savannah were on the side of the angels, I must admit I would be tempted to join Lucifer."

Lucinda laughed, clapping her hands together. "You're right. She's vain and selfish, and sometimes spiteful." Lucinda stopped. "But she's not all bad."

"With those qualities, it would be a wonder if she were not." Krystyna looked out the window and saw groups of soldiers gathering on the front lawn. "I hope Jason does not return soon." If he did, with the British here, she feared that he would be taken away from her.

There had been something between them when he had left, something he hadn't voiced and it bothered him. She wished now that she had pressed him to speak. What if, God forbid, he didn't return? What if he died believing something to be true that wasn't?

Oh, Jason, she thought, where are you? Come back safely to me.

Lucinda's eyes became alert. "He's not away on family business, is he?"

Krystyna shook her head slowly. "Not the kind of family business you mean, I am sure of it."

"Perhaps they'll only stay a few days, like that lieutenant said," Lucinda said hopefully.

"Perhaps," Krystyna agreed.

But, in her heart, she was afraid.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Morgan took his meals in his room rather than join the British officers seated at his table. Jeremiah brought the trays to him, along with reports of what was going on. Morgan knew that he was helpless to deny food and shelter to soldiers of the Crown, but he felt that his refusal to break bread with the enemy would at least make his displeasure and opposition sufficiently evident.

Aaron presided at the table in his father's stead. He had never known such a feeling of well-being before. He was consulted as the master of the house and received preferential treatment from the officers. In his glory, he was acting the part of an obedient loyalist. And he was wholly ignorant of Wallace's true purpose in quartering at Smoke Tree.

Sin-Jin was not. He approached his commanding officer in the study, pointing out that the political leanings of the family could largely be considered loyalist. He hoped to talk the general out of what he believed was on the man's mind.

General Wallace, a lifelong soldier in His Majesty's Service, looked at the young man coldly over the rim of his glass of sherry. Lawrence was hopelessly tiresome and woefully idealistic for Wallace's taste.

"My dear Lieutenant Lawrence, do you really think that with the Rutherford Plantation to the north of us, a household comprised entirely of British sympathizers, we are staying here to regroup our forces by mere happenstance? Morgan McKinley, our absent 'host,' is an outspoken leader

of Virginia society. While we are replenishing our supplies, we shall also put the fear of God into him, thwarting any plans he might have of aiding and abetting the enemy. As it were," Wallace toyed with the glass, regretting that there was so little of the sherry left, and yearning for his own supply at home, "the Reverend Peregrine Blake has paid me a visit only today. He offered quite an interesting revelation about young McKinley."

"Aaron?"

"Jason," Wallace corrected. The general raised his eyes to Sin-Jin.

His smile was as evil as any Sin-Jin had ever seen. He felt his stomach tighten. When the hostilities had erupted, Sin-Jin hadn't committed his emotions to a side. But now, ever so slowly, he found his sympathies turning to the Colonists. Freedom had a tantalizing flavor to it, especially when its enemy had men such as Wallace as leaders.

At the table that morning Sin-Jin felt Savannah's eyes on him. Whenever he turned around in the house, she seemed to be there, watching him. He wasn't unaware of the way she looked at him, nor was he oblivious to her attributes. She was rather beautiful. But while he found her company pleasant, it was Krystyna whom he sought out.

"My offer is still open," he told her quietly. He had taken the seat next to her, though there had been one at Savannah's right.

"Excuse me?" His words had intruded on Krystyna's thoughts of Jason. He had been gone too long, yet she feared his return. What if his newfound patriotism caused him to act rashly when he found the house taken over by soldiers? She couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to him.

What is she thinking? Sin-Jin wondered. Could there ever be room in her mind for me? In her heart? "About paying your passage back home," Sin-Jin reminded her. "I owe you a great debt, and I need to rid myself of that. A debt is a terrible thing to have hanging over one's head." He took advantage of the situation and brought her hand to his lips. "Even a debt to so charming a lady as you."

From the corner of her eye, Krystyna could see that Savannah was fuming. She couldn't suppress the smile that rose to her lips. "Your debt, John, will be repaid if you do not harm anyone here," she told him softly. Gently, she withdrew her hand and placed it on her lap.

Aaron was surprised by Krystyna's remark. Did she really fear the soldiers? He did not. They were among their own here. Certainly they thought of his father as a disgruntled, harmless old man and would leave the plantation unmolested. These were gentlemen they were dealing with, not the ruffians Washington had brought with him.

Wallace had overheard Krystyna's comment as well. "Countess," he said with a polite nod, "no harm is to come to any of you."

He looks like an old fox, Krystyna thought. She neither liked nor trusted the general, for she knew he would take what he needed —worse, what he wanted —and they would be defenseless against him. Their only hope was John.

Sin-Jin thought he read concern in her eyes as she turned toward him. The concern he saw went deeper than the household, and he wondered about its cause.

His speculation abruptly ended as he heard a hearty voice boom, "I see I am just in time." Winthrop carelessly thrust his cloak toward the nearest house servant.

"You seem to smell food from a great distance away," Aaron noted as the other man seated himself next to Savannah. Loyalist or no, Aaron actively disliked his sister's betrothed.

Even Savannah now shared the opinion held by the other members of her household. She glared at Winthrop with considerable annoyance as he helped himself to the generous spread on the table. Eagerly, he heaped slices of ham upon a plate already overloaded with eggs, potatoes, and muffins.

Until Sin-Jin had arrived, Savannah had been unhappy but resigned to her choice of a marriage partner. Now she found herself loathing Winthrop and falling in love with Sin-Jin. The young officer had both charm and grace, whereas Winthrop reminded her of a hideous illustration of Bacchus she had once seen in a book.

"What brings you here so early, Mr. Rutherford?" Lucinda asked politely, to cover her husband's obvious displeasure. No one else had spoken a word of greeting to Winthrop.

He looked up from his plate and roughly laid a paw on Savannah before returning to his fare. "I promised to spend the day with Savannah."

Savannah felt something sticky on her skin and looked down to see a tiny bit of jam on her hand. Pig, she thought as she wiped it off. "I don't recall agreeing to anything," she said frostily.

"Of course you did." He smiled at her tolerantly, a glob of butter oozing down his chin. Then he turned his attention momentarily to Sin-Jin. "You know, it's a very good thing you're here. I worry about my future bride being properly protected in these times, what with those heathen rebels about." He shrugged, spearing another slice of ham. "Of course, now that Jason has made up his mind to be on the side of those hellions, Lord knows what will come to pass."

The general raised his eyes, mildly interested. "Ah, yes, McKinley's younger son. Just where is he?" Wallace smiled to himself. What fools these Colonials were. He was well acquainted with the comings and goings of all the household members. He knew all he needed to know. Still, he was curious to hear what the slothful son of Elliot Rutherford had to say.

Winthrop shrugged, more interested in the hot biscuits Jeremiah had just brought in than in Jason's whereabouts. "I have no idea. Savannah, where is that womanizing brother of yours these days?"

Savannah gave him a withering look. However much they might disagree in private, to strangers they were a family, a united front. She wouldn't endanger her brother's life for the world. "He's away on a trip." The words fell casually from her lips.

"What sort of a trip, miss?" The general delicately wiped his mouth. There was nothing delicate about the look in his eyes.

Aaron quickly intervened. He had no idea where Jason had been sent, but suddenly felt that attention had to be shifted away from his brother. "With my brother," Aaron signaled to Jeremiah to refill the general's glass, "I'm afraid one never knows. Like as not, he is with some woman now. His comings and goings are of no import." It troubled him that the general looked unconvinced.

Sin-Jin looked at Krystyna, wondering what she thought of this kind of talk. He had already decided that Jason was the reason he hadn't been able to win her over. She was attached to the man. Or in love with him.

And he could tell by the look in her eyes that the conversation at the table rang false.

Glass in hand, the general leaned forward, toward Aaron. "I hope, sir, for your brother's sake, that you are correct in your speculation. It would be wise, however, if you spoke to him and to your father about the matter of favoring the rebels, cause." The look he fixed on Aaron was bitterly cold. "You do realize, of course, that I can at any time seize your plantation due to the fact that it is mortgaged against future crops that may, quite suddenly," the coldness in his smile spread, "fail to materialize." Beams of light entered his glass, casting rainbows on the white tablecloth. Wallace traced the pattern with his fingertip. "The Crown allows me to use my judgment as to when these 'natural catastrophes' might occur."