The Patriot's Conquest (28 page)

The day proved too boring for Amanda. Meg had gone to the almshouse to begin spinning lessons for the women. Amanda would have liked to accompany her, but she did not know how to spin wool, and would only be a hindrance.

Busy training the new servant girl, Sadie gently rejected her offers of help. In the afternoon when Meg returned home, Amanda helped Sara with her letters. A few hours later, Jeffrey arrived home, sweaty and tired. He washed up and then joined the family for dinner. But barely had he finished wiping his mouth with the napkin when he took off again without a word on where he was headed.

At nine o’clock, Amanda sat alone in the parlor, listening to the clock on the mantle tick the minutes away. She missed her husband. His quiet support and passionate lovemaking at her parents’ house had changed her views. No longer did she resist her own passions, but eagerly went into his arms. They were married, and those moments drew them closer together. They were a couple, sealed together in spirit and flesh.

But on nights like this, when he’d left without a word, she felt more alone than ever.

At midnight, she finally returned to their cabin, hoping desperately Jeffrey would return soon. Never had the walk seemed longer. An owl hooted in a nearby tree, making her jump. Shadows cast by the lantern light danced along the path.

The cabin was dark. Amanda undressed down to her shift, set the lantern on the mantle and climbed into bed. She drifted off into an uneasy, fitful sleep.

Some time later, she awoke, hearing Jeffrey. Icy rage gripped her. If the brigand stayed out all night, and then expected her to be all eager for his lovemaking, he’d get a fine surprise. Not bloody likely.

As Jeffrey climbed into bed with her, his big body slightly chilled from bathing in the creek, she stiffened. Her husband slid an arm around her waist, drawing close.

“Mandy,” he said softly, “I tried hurrying as fast as I could. ’Twas no use. Did you wait up for me sweet?”

She shut her eyes tight as Jeffrey lifted her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her nape. Amanda gritted her teeth. More kisses, this time on her vulnerable neck, but she resisted capitulating to the fire he created. Jeffrey toyed with her nipple, teasing the delicate bud with his fingers. She muttered as if asleep and slid away from him. He stopped, sighed and kissed her temple and rolled over.

As she drifted off to sleep, uneasy thoughts filled her mind. Why was Jeffrey working so late? And what new secrets did he hide?

Amanda climbed into bed alone again the next night. Anxiety stabbed her. Did he have another woman? He had not married her for love. Was she still the enemy, the English Loyalist? Inhaling her husband’s clean scent, Amanda hugged his pillow and cried herself to sleep.

She woke hours later to feel his big body, slightly damp and chilled, settling next to her. Jeffrey turned her around, took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Angered by her earlier tears and furious at his abandonment, Amanda clenched her teeth. When he drew away, she turned her back.

“Go to sleep, Jeffrey. I am too tired for your love play and ’tis too late. If you desire me, then return home at a decent hour.”

She heard him swear softly. Somehow her victory felt hollow.

The fourth night of her self-imposed exile from her husband’s arms was the hardest. Again she turned away, fighting her desire to return his caresses.

“Jeffrey, ’tis no reason for you to return so late. Where were you?”

“Out,” came his curt reply. “’Tis all you need to know.”

“Nay, I need to know more.”

“Mandy, I cannot tell you more. You must trust me.”

Bitter laughter tore from her throat. “Trust you? When you cannot answer me a simple question? Good night, Jeffrey.”

Damn his secrecy!

The next day Amanda baked a crisp squab pudding. When she spotted Jake returning from the fields, she trotted down, pudding in hand.

Amanda handed him the pudding and smiled at her husband’s overseer. “I thought I would bake you a treat for your family. Normally I would gift Jeffrey with such a delight, but seeing he seldom arrives home on time, ’tis no use.”

Jake sighed. “Mr. Jeffrey, he don’t do nothing unless it for a good reason. You have to trust him.”

The words irritated her. “’Tis just that I worry so. Riding Liberty that late at night, what if he should meet with misfortune? If I knew where he was, I could stop fretting.”

“Well, I don’t rightly know ’xactly where Mr. Jeffrey go. But I’m pretty sure he come from the Richard’s farm.”

Her heart skipped a few beats. “How so?”

“That pathway he takes. I was out by the river hunting some frogs late the other night. Ain’t nothing like fresh frog legs to settle good in the stomach. I saw him ride by. That ol’ river path is one Mr. Roger used as a short cut to the Richards’ farm. They’s our closest neighbors.”

Amanda remembered how Polly and Jeffrey had danced at the Apollo room. And how the young girl had looked so adoringly at him. Would Polly meet Jeffrey for a midnight tryst? Jeffrey would not bed Polly. Or would he?

“Thank you, Jake. You have helped a great deal more than you know.”

Back at the main house, as they sat down to dinner and Meg began prayers, Amanda added a silent one for strength. Maybe just for once, Jeffrey could join them. Her heart twisted with unexpected pain. Why did she care if he stayed out?

Because she was falling in love with him. She missed his eager caresses, his bristling vitality, his fierce protectiveness, his charming grin. She had fallen in love with this complex man whose radical ideas of freedom turned her upside down.

Once respectability and being on equal footing with the gentry had mattered most. Jeffrey had shaken free her convictions, forced her to see the difference between what she’d thought she wanted and what her heart longed for. The tiny spark inside her had created a raging fire, burning away previous ideals and dreams. Did she truly care about fitting into a society that had shunned her for being a tradesman’s daughter?

Amanda set down her fork and gazed thoughtfully around the trestle table. With his wealth, Jeffrey could have easily entered society, whereas she had always circulated around its fringes. Instead, he chose to work in a profession he loved, disdaining the English class differences.

Was this why he pushed for freedom? To be free, not merely of the country that governed the colonies, but of old conventions that governed society as well?

For the first time, Amanda thought she understood her husband’s motivations. She remembered Voltaire.
“True greatness consists in the use of a powerful understanding to enlighten oneself and others.”

Footsteps stamped in the hall. Jeffrey trudged into the dining room, glancing at the astonished faces staring at him.

“What’s the matter? Can not a man even come home to dinner in his own house?”

After dinner, he helped clear the table. Meg cornered him, asking the others to leave them alone in the parlor for a private moment.

“Jeffrey, I have business to discuss.”

Feeling drowsy and sated, he waited for her to bring up spring crops.

“I will not have you being so cruel to Mandy anymore.”

Jeffrey sat up in the Boston rocker. “Meg, what are you...”

“Don’t,” she grated out. “Do not play games with me, Jeffrey Clayton.”

Her pretty, round face colored with evidence of that famous Clayton temper. He’d thought the trait had passed Meg. For a brief moment Jeffrey wondered how Roger, her late husband, had felt when exposed to this assault.

“Mandy is a sweet child, a good wife to you, Jeffrey. Aye, she’s British. She’s also a wonderful woman who loves the children and they adore her. She never fails to offer help. She is trying so hard. And every night you ride off to your spying adventures or whatever patriotic duties you see as fit, and leave her alone. I’ve heard her crying here at night, pining for you! ’Tis not right! Would you sacrifice your marriage for the sake of freedom?”

He felt his jaw drop in pure astonishment, along with a tug of guilt. He’d no idea Amanda pined for him. “I did not mean—”

“I know you married Mandy for some secret reason. I’ve two eyes and two ears and I know you. But you are a husband now and if you do not start according some tender respect to your wife, I will put my foot down,” she snapped.

Jeffrey could only stare, feeling the tips of his ears redden from his mortified flush. Lord, he felt as humiliated as he had when he was twelve and Meg had caught him packing his breeches with stockings.

“I’ve come to love Mandy as much as I could a sister of my own, and I will not see you hurt her!”

“Meg, how do you know what I do at night? What would give you reason to think I spy?” He kept his expression impassive.

“Do not play innocent with me! You were always one for excitement and adventure, running off to join the Rangers. Uncle Gil told me of your activities with Sam Adams. Do you think I am so addle-brained I would not know you’d resort to the same down here? Do as you must, but I will not stand for you to treat Mandy so poorly. Be a good husband and accord her every attention she deserves.”

Jeffrey felt like a child receiving a vicious tongue thrashing. He reeled in his temper and smiled at his sister, whom he loved with all his heart. He thought of how Amanda had rebuffed his lovemaking attempts.

“Accord her every attention? Aye, Meg, have no fear. I will devote every attention to my lovely bride.” He silently vowed Amanda would know every attention from him, both this afternoon when he presented her wedding gift, and then later tonight in bed.

Every one.

“Come to the barn Mandy, for I’ve something for you to see.”

Confused, she squinted, wiping her hands on her apron. What could it be? A new milk cow? His grin was boyish as he impatiently tugged her hand. He had the eager manner of Sara wanting to show off her new kittens.

“Jeffrey, what is it that has you all in a dither?”

“You shall see.” His gray eyes sparkled as he steered her into the barn. Jeffrey placed his hands over her eyes. “Do not peek. ’Tis a surprise.”

“Jeffrey,” she said laughing, “You are as giddy as Sara.”

“Hush, ’tis coming.” His warm breath tickled her ear. She heard the sound of hooves. A soft nicker of recognition. Jeffrey lifted his palms.

“Now look,” he said softly.

Amanda gave a startled gasp as Jake led over an old friend. She reached up and touched the warm velvet muzzle. Sage nudged her hand. Eyes large as apples and warm as molasses held a glint of recognition.

“Oh Jeffrey, ’tis Sage. I had thought I would not ever see her again, ever!” She brushed her hand over Sage’s muzzle again, glancing at her beaming husband.

“I had the devil of a time finding where your father sold her. Finally did and offered twice the price. Easy sale.” Jeffrey stroked Sage, taking the reins and dismissing the servant. ’Tis about time I presented you with a wedding gift.”

Overcome with emotion at his generosity and thoughtfulness, she could not find words to thank him.

“Mandy, why are you crying?”

“Oh Jeffrey, ’tis the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me.” Amanda embraced him in a tight hug. “Thank you.”