The Heavens Shall Fall (16 page)

“The allotted time is up.” The guard spoke in a soft, almost sympathetic voice. “We need to return you to your cell.”

Rebekah
’s eyes widened. She gripped hold of his waistcoat and refused to let go. “No…no,” she begged. “Five more minutes…please…five more minutes.”

Jonathan found himself lost for words. What more could one say when no words could convey the
love he held within him for this woman. He felt hands peel his wife from his side and his heart broke. “I love you, Rebekah, for always.”

Suddenly, the man whose hands held to his wife came into focus. Jonathan forgot everything except the rage
that flamed within him. Black Rory!

“
Get your hands off my wife!” Jonathan shouted. He fought the restraints against his arms. More guards converged upon him. “Don’t touch her, you bastard!”

Rebekah jerked her arm from Black Rory and raced back
toward her husband. She was met with resistance. Physically thrust back through the door, his last vision was of Black Rory as he grasped hold of Rebekah.

Rebekah stared blankly at the guardhouse. The entrance was barred. For a moment, she didn’t realize that Rory still had hold of her. She didn’t care. Panic surged through her. She was about to lose Jonathan.

This couldn
’t happen, not to Jonathan. He didn’t deserve this fate.

“
Come, Rebekah. I will walk you back to your home.”

She shook her head.
“I can’t leave him.”

“
I kept my word. You have seen him. It is best that you leave. It will be dark soon. You do not need to be out.”

Her hand absently went over her mouth in a veil
ed attempt to keep her emotions within her. Her mind raced. She had no intention of accepting that Jonathan’s fate was to die in the morn.

“
Do something, Rory. Do something,” she pleaded with him. “You know that he isn’t capable of doing what this…this Woodland has said. It wasn’t Jonathan.”

Rory showed no emotion.
“There is nothing to be done. General Clinton, himself, has given the order. Your husband’s fate does not lie in my hands. Know that. But even if there was something I could do, I wouldn’t.”

Rebekah looked up at Rory. She swallowed back her tears.
“He saved Eliza, Rory. She is safe only because of him.”

“
I believe I also had a hand in saving our daughter,” he said forcibly. He whipped her around to face him and pulled her up close. “Your good doctor has long lived on the edge from my understanding. His flamboyant method of healing has caught up with him. His reputation preceded him. He should have known if he stayed during the siege, that he would not have many friends among the Redcoats, nor would I hold any goodwill toward him. He has you.”

“
Do not hold our marriage against Jonathan,” she uttered under her breath. “Hold it against me. I grasped at a chance for happiness. Fleeting as it may have been, I will hold it dear to my heart always. You…you, I abhor. You could never be the man Jonathan is: decent…good.”

He laughed and gently released his tight hold on her.
“It may well be the truth there is no good within me, but what of you? Do not think you can hide from me, Rebekah. I know you too well…remember too well.”

“
I am nothing like you…”

He reached over and touched her cheek.
“You forget your surrender to me, my dear. You have no qualms doing what you need to survive. Whether you admit it or not, we are alike…”

Rebekah caught her breath
and stood speechless for a moment. She stood in the middle of the courtyard where the British held her beloved husband with her former lover. Her eyes fixed on his.

She couldn
’t deny she had crossed the line to see Jonathan. Had she not used her past relationship with Rory…their daughter…to convince him to help her see Jonathan? Would she not do anything to protect her family and loved ones? Would she not wreak havoc on those who threatened her?

The question now became
, would she do what was necessary to save Jonathan. Resolve surged within her. She had known from the moment Jonathan had been arrested, charged with treason and the explosion on the wharf, it would come to this.

She straightened
herself to her full height, eyed Rory with a resolve that came from desperation…pushed back any guilt her conscience weighed upon her… “I need to see a General Durham. Do you know him? Can you do this for me, Rory? It is the last I will ask of you.”

“
It will do you no good, Rebekah. It is best to accept—”

“
I accept nothing!” she cried, her nerves frayed. “Do not lecture me. I asked only if you can arrange an immediate audience for me with this general. That is all!”

He pressed
his lips together tightly. “I know General Durham. If I arrange this meeting, it will come with a price. Understand exactly what the cost will be.”

A brief silence ensued before Rebekah answered. He didn
’t have to say the words what he wanted as payment. Rory had said himself she was like him, doing whatever was necessary to survive.

She would rather live in a world with Jonathan and his hatred
of her betrayal than in a world without Jonathan. She made no mistake in believing otherwise. Jonathan would hate her for what she was about to do.

A drizzle fell from the threatening sky.
The gloom that descended down from the heavens, she felt within her bones. Time was running out.

She drew in a deep breath.
“Arrange the meeting.”

*
* * *

Rebekah had taken great care in her appearance after her return to her home. Esther had already questioned her actions. Nor could Jasper keep his thoughts to himself. She ignored them all. She was on a mission and would do anything…anything…to save Jonathan.

With a quick glimpse in the small mirror above the chest, she tucked a stray tress of hair out of her face. She had changed into a becoming pale yellow day gown. She brushed out her hair and arranged it in a more flattering style than plastered to her head from the rain. There was little she could do with her swollen eyes.

She had been caught in a torrential downpour before she arrived back to her house. The barr
acks where Jonathan was being kept was a long walk on a beautiful day. Today, the walk would have been a jaunt. Rory had taken care of the issue. He offered to ride her over on his horse.

Highly inappropriate, but Rebekah was well beyond proprieties. She hadn
’t time to be a prude. She was thankful for the rain, though, for it covered her arrival back at her house. Few, if any, saw her on her way home. None, she doubted, would have recognized her.

She refused to consider that this General Durham would refuse an offer for an audience with her. He, too, would recognize the connection they had. He would come if only to appease his curiosity about Jonathan
’s wife.

She doubted Colonel
Woodland would be happy with her for inviting General Durham to meet with her here. He had made it expressly clear that he now ran the household. She and her family stayed only by his goodness. She expected no sympathy, given her husband and their ties to the Patriot cause.

She gave little thought to the
colonel. She would deal with him afterwards. Her concern lay only with the general. She closed her eyes and prayed.

She didn
’t have long to wait before Jasper knocked on her door.

“
Miss Rebekah, a General Durham is here to see you. He is in the study.”

She knew not to look up at Jasper. Loyal and true as always, his concern for her welfare would only serve to weaken her resolve. She couldn
’t afford to show any weakness.

She followed behind
Jasper, watched him knock lightly, and then open the study’s door. He stood in the doorway while Rebekah passed.

“
Thank you, Jasper. That is all,” Rebekah said.

For a moment, Rebekah thought Jasper was going to refuse. Then slowly, he withdrew. She turned to the general
only when she heard the door click.

The man stood by the side window. Most days it gave a beautiful view of the open gardens
. At the moment, the heavy rain hampered the sight, but the general didn’t seem interested in the landscape. He wasn’t looking out the window; his focus was upon her.

Tall and lean, the distinguished officer hadn
’t taken off his coat. His hat he held in his hand. Without doubt, he was one of the most handsome men she had ever met. His brow was broad, his nose straight. His chin was aggressive in its firmness; his eyes hardened without warmth. Undoubtedly well-bred, he carried himself with an air of superiority, which she assumed was supposed to intimidate her. His ice-cold eyes bore into her.

“
General Durham, thank you for meeting with me. I appreciate your kindness—”

“
Mrs. Corbett, please do not mistake my presence with kindness,” Marcus interrupted her. His gaze rested on Rebekah’s face and betrayed no emotion. “I came only—”

“
I know well why you came, General,” Rebekah shot back at the man. Gone was any resolution to show civility to the one before her. There was no need. “I believe her name is Hannah.”

* * * *

Taken back for a moment, Marcus stared at the woman. The nerve she had. This woman…one who should be down on her knees, begging for her husband’s life, had the audacity to throw a name at him…

He hadn
’t been happy to be interrupted in his meeting by Black Rory, but the man had been extremely useful in the success they had had here in the South. He would have been remiss if he didn’t recognize Rebekah’s name, if not her person. Rebekah Morse.

Rodger
Morse, her father, and a loyal Patriot. A man’s whose death was by his hand.

He supposed he hadn
’t been surprised to learn that Dr. Jonathan Corbett had married Morse’s daughter. What had taken him by surprise was Black Rory’s request that he meet with her. Moreover, Rebekah’s need to see him.

She had to recognize there was no love lost between her husband and himself. He would be the last person to appeal to for mercy. There was more going on here than met the eye.

Marcus was no fool. She believed she held information he wanted, but she didn’t know him well. He would not be played.

“
I see you are a blunt woman. There is no need to waste time and breath on pleasantries, so please get straight to your point on your request for an audience with me. I have pressing business to attend.”

She was an attractive woman, not beautiful, but there was an appeal that couldn
’t be denied. He studied her for a moment and decided it was her eyes. They seemed to change color with her mood and expressed her feelings quite openly. At the moment, they flared at him, holding only hatred of him. He found it amusing.

“
Then I will state my purpose. I want my husband pardoned.”

H
e fitted his hat on his head. He bowed to her. “If that is your purpose, Mrs. Corbett, then I’m afraid you will be disappointed. I can do nothing. You have my sympathies. Good day.”

He walked toward the door.

“You did not let me finish, General Durham. Her name is Hannah, Jonathan’s sister. I understand you knew her well…very well, for I also know that your son’s name is Seth.”

Marcus paused. His blood ran cold. A son…his son…their son. He had been correct. His son lived. He took his hat off, along with
his coat, and laid them on a high back chair close to the door. Then he turned back to the woman. She had his attention.

“Be quick, but be warned, I do not take kindly to being played. If you have information that is useful to me, I will listen. But I will not be manipulated in any manner. Your husband will not be the only one to feel British justice.”

His voice resonated in the room, but the woman didn
’t flinch. He had spoken bluntly and in a harsh manner. There would be no mistaking the threat his words carried. Most women would have had feigned vapors. But she stood stone-faced, unmoving.

He read the determination in her eyes.
He gestured for her to sit. He watched her move with a grace he had rarely seen in a colonist. Her head was held back, proud and resolute. Her eyes, fixed on his, did not waver. She sauntered over to the sofa and sat.

“
If you would like, ring for Jasper. I have a lovely bottle of Bordeaux red wine from Graves, hidden of course, from Colonel Woodland. I can assure you it is the best. I believe we both may need it for what I’m about to propose.”

Marcus sipped his wine. He studied her. He had to admit the offer was enticing.

“
You are certain you can deliver what you are promising, Mrs. Corbett?”

“
I would not have offered, if I could not. I told you, General Durham, I will do whatever is necessary. I’m tired of this war…of death. I have lost enough. I can lose no more.”

He sat his glass down and sighed
. “Mrs. Corbett, I have met your husband only briefly. I know him more by reputation, but I can’t imagine he would ever agree to this arrangement.”

“
I know my husband quite well, General Durham. I know he would never agree. I also know he will never forgive me for this betrayal.” She paused. For the first time during their meeting, her emotions overwhelmed her. She took a deep breath. “I am also under no illusions. He will guess what I have done. It is only…only…I could not live with myself if I did not do everything…everything to save him.”

“
He will hate you.”

“
I did not come to you for you to judge me, General Durham. I asked if you would accept my proposal.”

He pressed
his lips together tightly and nodded. The woman loved her husband enough to save him, even though she would live with his contempt for the rest of her life. It was a novel idea, yet one that served his purpose.

“
You understand for me to intervene, I will need the information upfront.”

“
I understand that you British hold to your word as your honor. Give to me your word you will save…not try…but save my husband. I want him pardoned…”

“
Sitting here listening to you, Mrs. Corbett, I believe I have come up with a viable solution. I will be leaving shortly to return to New York. I believe the best solution would be for a prisoner exchange, along with his General Lincoln.”

“
He would be unharmed.”

“
Quite so,” Marcus assured her. “As long as you uphold your end of the agreement. You said you can recall your ships.”

“
I will declare loyalty to the Crown. In doing so, the family business will be firmly established for the benefit to you British. I assure you my orders will be followed. I won’t be questioned.”

Marcus leaned back. He had been impressed by the woman
’s audacity so far. She had laid out an option for him to save the life of Dr. Jonathan Corbett and handed him a viable reason for doing so that had absolutely nothing to do with finding his son.

Shipping. She proclaimed to hold the reins of two shipping firms within Charles Town
, including Reed & Sandler, both with Patriot ties. Businesses she said that had not been damaged by the war, which, if true, could be extremely beneficial to the British, especially in setting an example for other Patriots to follow suit.

Much more beneficial than to see Corbett hung.

“Your word, General.” She said the words firmly and with conviction of her desperation.

Marcus smiled and nodded.
“You have my word, Mrs. Corbett. I will see to the safety of your husband personally.”

He picked up his glass again.
“Here. Let us toast to your husband’s health.”

Rebekah made no movement for her glass. She shook her head
. “My husband’s safety is my main concern, General Durham. But before I toast, I have one more request.”

Marcus eyed
her suspiciously as he placed his glass down. “And that would be?”

*
* * *

The rickety chair rocked on his every movement. Jonathan leaned back. The candle had burnt down to the wick. It mattered little. From the barred window, he could see the sky graying. Soon, it would be dawn. His letters set, he glanced over at the uniform laid across the cot. He would ready soon.

It was done. He had spent his last night. No matter how badly he wanted time to still, time could not be conquered. He stacked his letters and hoped the British would give them to Rebekah. Knowing her well, he realized she would need them—to remember how well she and his son were loved…

He refused to let melancholy and anger overwhelm him. This was not how he pictured his end would be. On the battlefield perhaps, but not the gallows.

He swallowed hard, and picked up his watch he had placed in front of him while he wrote. Five o’clock. It would not be long. He dressed.

Jonathan had finished buttoning up his waistcoat when he heard the door handle rattle. His heart dropped. The time had come. Quickly, he reprimanded himself for his fear. He turned toward the door, determined not to show emotion, resolved to go as his father and brother before him had done—go to death with honor.

“
Dr. Corbett,” the sentry said. “This way.”

Jonathan walked out of his cell and into the long echoing hall. Strange, only one guard walked beside him
; he expected to have been escorted out by a regiment. He had thought the British would make a spectacle of the event. Instead, he noticed only one officer with his back to him at the clerk’s desk situated close to the entrance.

The clerk seemed engrossed with a document in his hand.
He looked over it and nodded to the officer. The clerk opened a large register and wrote down information. He handed the document back to the officer. He caught sight of Jonathan and gestured toward him.

The officer glanced around and a large smile emerged on his face, a sly
, coy smile. Devil be all! What was the meaning of this! It was Durham!

“
Dr. Corbett, good morning.”

Jonathan glanced around. Confused, he asked,
“What in Heaven’s name is going on?”

Marcus shrugged.
“I believe we need to talk.” He gestured for Jonathan to enter a small room behind the clerk’s desk.

Jonathan shook his head.
“I have nothing to say to you.”

“
I realize you said all you intended to say to me at your sentencing.” Marcus smirked. “It is I who has something to say to you. This way…please.”

Jonathan hesitated, but felt a push from the back. He hadn
’t a choice. He walked into the room.

The room had no lamp, but the day breaking over the horizon lit the darkened room through the window. It was sparsely furnished, with only a long table and four hard back chairs.

Jonathan stumbled through the doorway. He was followed by the general
, who stopped the sentry from entering.

“
It is fine. I’ll take responsibility. It will only be for a moment. Then you can take him back to his cell.”

Jonathan looked over his shoulder at Marcus.
Taken back?

The man he met years ago as Marcus Durham smiled at him.
“It seems to be your lucky day, Doctor.”

Jonathan shook his head.
“What game do you think you’re playing? It will do you no good. One day…two...I’m not talking.”

Marcus shut the door. It clicked and he turned back to Jonathan.

“I told you, Dr. Corbett. I have come to give you news.”

Jonathan laughed. He
sunk down in a chair. “Of course, you do. I have always associated you with being a bearer of good news. Tell me, Durham. Do tell me what is so important that you must tell me before I die. What do you want for me to take to the grave?”

Jonathan caught Marcus staring at him for a long moment. Was he thinking back to when they first met? Hannah had been with him. It seemed so long ago…a lifetime ago. A time before the war. A time when he had all his family…his father…brother…stepmother…Rebekah
’s father... All dead because of this man.

“
You have the look of your sister, Doctor Corbett.”

Jonathan gave no response. His anger simmered as he watched the general press his lips together tightly as if deciding his next words carefully. Jonathan
’s eyes followed Marcus as he walked around the table. He took a seat across from Jonathan.

“
I will not waste words. Nor will I pretend. There is no love lost between us, but because of the history between us, I asked to inform you of recent developments.”

“
Developments?”

“
Your sentence has been commuted. You are now destined to be in a prisoner exchange that will be arranged in New York. You will leave in two weeks, along with the other American officers.”

Silence ensued. Jonathan couldn
’t contain his shock, which altered quickly to confusion. He shook his head. “I will ask again…what game are you playing, General? It was made perfectly clear to me what my fate would be…unless Colonel Woodland recanted his sordid tale and told the truth…” He studied Marcus. “No…that’s not it. No one cared about the truth then and I doubt now. I was to be made an example. If I’m not mistaken, most of you British seemed to have been reveling in the thought.”

“
If I were you, Dr. Corbett, I would not question General Clinton’s goodwill,” Marcus continued. “I asked to tell you myself. I will also take it upon myself to inform your family here in Charles Town. Unfortunately, you will not be allowed to see anyone else before your departure. It is part of the agreement.”

“
Agreement?”

“
I should have stated that your sentence has been commuted conditionally. If the conditions are met, you will be exchanged. If not, your former sentence will be carried out. Until that time, you are to stay in isolation.”

“
What is the meaning of this? What is going on?”

“
It is not usual for negotiations to have continued. General Lincoln has been most vocal about your sentence. He has been a loyal commander. He demanded that you be pardoned…”

“
And you ignored him. Did you forget I was there?”

“
It was not I who suggested this negotiation. Seems you have a very persuasive wife. Most impressive. She made a proposal, one that she convinced General Clinton would be most advantageous to us.”

“
You make no sense. How could she make such a proposal? Clinton would not take the word of a woman…”

“
No, he would not. Not unless she had someone to vouch for her. Rest assured, I didn’t hesitate.”

Suddenly, Jonathan found it hard to breath
e.
Oh, God, no…tell him no! Rebekah wouldn’t!

“
Your wife presented me with an opportunity I couldn’t refuse.”

“
She would never! Rebekah would never betray me…”

“
If you mean, she would never tell me that your sister has my son…then, Doctor Corbett, you would be sadly mistaken.”

Jonathan lunged at him.

* * * *

“
Rebekah!”

Rebekah rushed down the stairs
, not heeding the voice behind her. She wasn’t in a mood to listen to another lecture. She didn’t need to be told that she was the most hated woman in Charles Town. She could see it in her neighbors’ eyes when she walked down the street. She heard it in their voices.

“
Stop! Rebekah, do not leave like this.”

Rebekah halted on the last step.
She clinched her eyes shut, summoned all the courage she had and turned. Her heart faltered as she stared at the older woman. She swallowed. She couldn’t allow herself a moment of weakness.

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. British soldiers. Her nerves were frayed. It came with billeting the officers in private homes, serving as a reminder of the life she now lived...a reminder she could show no weakness.

Rebekah looked back upward to the landing. She sighed. “Dear Esther, I can’t bear to tell you once more, I have quite made up my mind. I’m moving into Uncle Adam’s home. It will be for the best. You and the boys will be fine. I won’t be here as a distraction. Please, do not make me go through it again.”