Moonlight Rebel (41 page)

He might write as he had initially promised. Who knew? He might even be back someday. There wasn't all that much waiting for him in England any longer.

Of course, if he were to return to Smoke Tree, he'd still rather do it for Krystyna. Despite all the affection Savannah had lavished on him, he still wondered what it would be like to hold Krystyna in his arms.

Forbidden fruit, he thought with resignation, as he got ready to leave. There was an air of mystery about Krystyna. It intrigued him. Or perhaps the memory of Vanessa still haunted him. Whatever it was, and he had no time to philosophize now, he knew that had he a choice, he would choose Krystyna.

Poor little Savannah. What would she do if she knew how he really felt? She certainly wouldn't be charitable about something like this. She'd probably fight for him, he thought without conceit, the way he should have fought for Vanessa.

But then, he had decided that Vanessa hadn't been worth it, and besides, he had never fought for anything in his private life. He'd left all to the whimsy of fate.

He glanced down at his uniform, the humorous aspect of his philosophy striking him.

Savannah stood on the veranda, watching the troops move into formation. A lump lodged in her throat. She wished Sin-Jin weren't going. She had never felt this way before, had never thought that she could fall in love. But it had happened.

Savannah had noted with triumph that Krystyna wasn't present. Only Aaron stood next to her.

He had thought it best to bid the departing troops goodbye. His father's abusive words still rang in his ears, and he knew that once the soldiers were gone, he would have to pay dearly for this trespass. But he also knew that he had done it for the good of the household. One didn't antagonize the enemy.

He smiled as he realized that he now thought of the British as the enemy.

"Thank you, Mr. McKinley, for your hospitality." The general saluted Aaron smartly, while thinking him a fool. "I hope we have not put you out too greatly."

"No, of course not." Aaron was anxious to have them gone.

"Perhaps we shall all meet again when peace is restored." The general mounted his horse.

"Perhaps," Aaron agreed.

Savannah waited for her last kiss, but became angry when Sin-Jin asked her if Krystyna was coming out to bid them goodbye.

"No," she snapped. "Would you rather kiss her goodbye?"

Sin-Jin laughed easily. "No, only tell her farewell. I owe her my life, remember?"

Anger left Savannah. In an odd way, she was beholden to Krystyna as well. The tally of her debts to that horrid woman was mounting. "Yes," she said quietly. "I know. Do you owe me anything?" Like a young child, she waited for words of endearment. For words of reassurance.

"To you I owe my thanks for the best time I have ever had. I told you as much last night. You shouldn't need to be reassured so often, Savannah. My sentiments stay the same." He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger and kissed her lips lightly while his commanding officer looked on, amused.

They departed within a few minutes. Neither Savannah nor Aaron had any reason to suspect that Wallace was going to meet with the soldiers who had taken Jason prisoner.

Chapter Thirty Four

There were many things Samuel was privy to in his tavern, many conversations he overheard while seeming to be about his business. That was why he had agreed to volunteer his services to the rebels. He fancied being a "spy." Short, fat, balding, and hardly meriting a second glance, his clandestine doings were a source of pride. And he did his job well.

He had been at the docks, hidden in the shadows, when Jason, betrayed by an informant, had been ambushed by the British. He had lost no-time in returning to the rooms above the tavern and rousing one of his bar girls from her bed. Eileen, the only one he trusted.

She looked at him, her eyes bleary. "A customer at this hour?"

He closed the door behind him. "No, a message. Hurry, get dressed."

Sleep evaporated from her brain. Eileen listened while she dressed. When she heard Jason's name, she shook her head in genuine regret. "I've always liked that one."

"If you want to keep on likin' him, ride like the wind."

"Aye." She threw her cloak about her shoulders, combing through her hair with the tips of her fingers. She was gone in a trice.

Breathless and exhausted, her horse lathered, Eileen arrived at the McKinleys' front door less than two days later. She hardly had the strength to knock on the weathered wood.

Jeremiah responded, and cast an appraising eye on the gaudily clad woman before him. Spent, her hair in disarray and her cloak askew, she looked like a camp follower. He wondered if she had somehow gotten lost.

"McKinley," she gasped.

She didn't look like the type any of the McKinley men would choose for companionship, but Jeremiah guessed that if anyone knew her, it would have to be Jason. He stood in the doorway, blocking her way in.

"Mist'r Jase ain't here."

Eileen shook her head, struggling to breathe evenly. "No, no, this is about Jason. The British. He's been taken. I must see his father."

"This way." Quickly, Jeremiah led her to Morgan.

They interrupted a lecture as they walked quickly into the study. Morgan had given several since the British had left the previous day. Aaron had endured them all wordlessly. He knew there was no reasoning with his father, no explaining his methods, so Aaron had ceased to even try.

Morgan looked up as Jeremiah entered the room, the girl trailing behind him. He was surprised that Jeremiah would allow someone of her caliber into the house without first consulting him.

"Well?" he demanded.

In the face of his displeasure, Eileen momentarily lost the use of her tongue. "She has a message about Mast'r Jase," Jeremiah explained.

Both sets of eyes turned toward the girl. "Speak up. What is it?" Morgan studied her carefully. "Has he gotten you into the family way?" he demanded bluntly.

Eileen shook her head. "Would that it were that simple, sir. They've got him."

"Who's got him?" Morgan's shaggy brows narrowed as he looked at the girl.

"The British. The soldiers overran the docks at midnight and caught him." She saw the color drain from the older man's face as he and his son exchanged looks. "They took Jason prisoner."

Aaron stepped forward, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, fixing her in place lest she suddenly wanted to flee. "Who sent you?"

She hesitated only a moment. Sam didn't like his name bandied about. But they wouldn't believe her unless she told them. "Sam. He seen them." She licked her lips. They felt so parched. "He heard one of the soldiers say they were taking him to General Wallace's camp in Norfolk."

"But Wallace was just here," Aaron protested. Had the man been planning this all along? "Are you sure?"

She nodded her head vigorously. "Sure as I'm standing here. Sam heard every word of it."

Morgan turned on Aaron, enraged. "What did you tell them?" he shouted angrily, his face turning red.

Aaron was dumbstruck. How could Morgan think he'd betray his own brother. "Nothing!"

"You were thicker than thieves with them." Guilt racked Morgan. Had he sent his own son to his death? "Where are the pieces of silver you got for selling your brother to them?"

Aaron couldn't take any more. Forgetting the others in the room, he raised his voice to his father and showed fury for the first time. "Now you listen to me, old man. All my life you've done nothing but belittle me. You never saw me as being capable of anything worthwhile. I began to see myself in the image you cast —lazy, slow, and stupid." His fists clenched at his sides, he stifled the urge to hit something. "You never had the decency to think I could lead my own life or make an intelligent decision. You chose my life for me and my wife." He thought of Lucinda, of what she had come to mean to him. "That, fortunately, turned out well, but not because of you! You would never listen to a word I had to say. You didn't even allow me to take charge of my own son's education.

"But God damn you, sir, I would never betray my brother to anyone —to God or the devil —even though you've set us at odds for your own amusement for years."

Morgan raised his hand, ready to strike. "Why you young — "

"Go ahead." Aaron stuck out his chin. "Hit me. Call me all the names you want. You always have, but that won't change a word I've said. Now, no matter what you may think of me, we've got to get to Jason and free him." Aaron turned to the girl. "Are you sure they've taken him to Wallace's camp?"

She nodded her head solemnly. "Oh, yes, sir."

"And that's in Norfolk?" Why would the British want to camp there? Wallace liked what luxuries he could find, and the town was only a shell after the fire.

"Just outside." She looked at him in supplication. "Sam's afraid they'll be hanging him soon. Please hurry."

"Hanging who?"

The others turned to see Krystyna standing in the doorway. She had been drawn by the loud, raised voices thundering through the house. They'd interrupted her lesson with Christopher. She wouldn't have intruded, but Jason's welfare had preyed on her mind night and day. She had been afraid that this had something to do with him. One look at their faces told her she'd been right.

"They've arrested Jason," Morgan told her.

An iciness passed over Krystyna, and for a moment, the room disappeared. But she fought the darkness that threatened to envelop her. Gripping the doorjamb, she asked, "Where is he?"

"Norfolk," Aaron answered. "Wallace has him."

"We have to free him!" It never occurred to her that she wouldn't be allowed to join in the effort.

Aaron could see what she was thinking. It was there, in her eyes. "Krystyna, now please. This is no time to — "

" — argue," she finished. "I believe I am better acquainted with the lieutenant than the rest of you. He owes me a very large favor. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage." She looked from one man to the other, her eyes challenging them to refuse her.

Aaron thought quickly. She was right. "All right, you'll come."

Morgan looked at him in surprise. He wasn't accustomed to being usurped in this fashion. "Aaron, I make — "

"The decisions?" Aaron guessed. He shook his head. "You'll only antagonize them, Father. You'll demand, and we are not in a position to make demands. I can try to reason with them."

"And plead with them?" Morgan scorned.

Aaron's expression froze. "If need be, yes. This is Jason's life we're talking about, not a crop that'll grow back next year if it fails this season." He turned to Krystyna. "How soon can you be ready?"

She didn't even need to consider. "In no more than twenty minutes. I need one of your son's outfits." Within six months, Christopher had grown to be almost as tall as she.

"Certainly, but why?"

She thought of what her father had said not that long ago. "Traveling as a woman can be dangerous and could make me conspicuous. We will have enough to worry about." Quickly, she went to rejoin Christopher.

Aaron reached into his vest pocket and took out a gold coin. He pressed it into Eileen's hand. "Thank you. You've been most kind."

"Oh, thank you, governor." She bobbed her strawberry blond head. "You, too, sir." She nodded at Morgan as she backed out of the room. Turning, she hurried away, afraid that Aaron would change his mind about the money.

"Jeremiah, will you come with me?" Aaron saw that the dark man looked at him quizzically. He had always ordered Jeremiah before, never requested. "You're the ablest man I know, and there'll be need of you."

Jeremiah merely nodded his head. "For Mast'r Jase." His meaning was clear.

Aaron knew he couldn't expect loyalty where none was merited. "Get the fastest horses we have —and a change of clothes for Jason. I don't expect he gave up easily."

The tall man was out of the room before Aaron finished the sentence.

"And since you're giving orders, what of me?" Morgan asked with a trace of sarcasm.

Aaron didn't know whether he had earned his father's censure or admiration. It was too late to care. "You, Father, can stay here — and pray, if you still know how."

"I know how," Morgan said. "One of my prayers has just been answered."

Father and son looked at one another for a long moment. It was the first time Aaron could remember not seeing disappointment in those gray eyes. He'd been wrong. It did matter.

"Well, what are you standing around for?" Morgan gestured toward the door. "Get ready. You've a rescue mission to lead. I don't expect to see you come home without him."

"I won't."

It was a promise Aaron intended to keep.

Krystyna struggled into Christopher's clothing, trying to occupy her mind with her preparations. But fear kept ambushing her thoughts. What if they were too late? What if Jason was already . . . ?

No.

She wasn't going to think about that possibility. Jason might be hurt, but if she believed him to be still a prisoner, then he would be.

He had to be.

She stuffed her hair under the tri-cornered hat Christopher had proudly presented to her. Taking a deep breath, she went outside, closing the cabin door behind her.

It was raining, a soft, gentle summer rain. The drops mixed with the ones on her face. She touched her cheek as she fought to keep her emotions and fears in check.

"I love you, Jason," she whispered. "And I shall not lose you."

With the vow on her lips, Krystyna ran for the house.

Chapter Thirty Five
 

Within the half hour, they were on the road, riding quickly for Norfolk. Aaron was amazed at the way Krystyna rode. When she'd asked to come, he'd had misgivings, had been afraid that she would slow them down. He found he had to ride hard just to keep up with her.

The dark clouds had multiplied, blanketing the sky in somberness. Then the gentle summer rain had given way to a heavy shower, and they were all soaked to the skin. But there was no time to find shelter and wait it out. Minutes might mean the difference between life and death for Jason.