The Patriot Bride Read online

  While the strategy she’d devised was only for a game, she knew her teacher would be proud.

  A shuffle in the reeds next to them made her hush the group. The horn hadn’t sounded yet, so which one of the other team was trying to sneak in and cheat?

  She held her breath while her teammates appeared to do the same. Eyes glued to the shifting reeds on the right.

  A familiar face split the stalks. “George!” Faith’s relief made her put a hand to her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  Several of the boys moved closer. George was quite a fascination for them, being named the surveyor of Culpepper County at a mere seventeen years of age. All the boys wanted to be like him.

  “I came home to visit Mother and wanted to stop in and see how you were first.” Her lifelong friend sat in the reeds, glanced around, and dipped his head low, which was quite a feat. He was really tall. “And it seems you are doing very well. Is this one of the battles you have told me about in your letters?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t help but smile up at him as she thrilled in her team’s admiration for her friend. Lifting her shoulders back, she hoped George saw her as a leader and not just a child, but her emotions won over and she threw her arms around his neck. He was here! And he would be able to watch her team finally win. Joy bubbled up inside her.

  But it was time to be serious. She had a battle to win.

  Faith pulled back and stuck a finger in his face, trying to stand as tall as she could and look as authoritative as possible. Even standing she barely topped a couple inches above his seated frame. “But I need you to stay hidden. We haven’t begun, and I have a plan to beat the league once and for all.” Nodding, Faith wiped her hands on her dress. This was more important than ever—George was here to witness it.

  “What?” He put a hand to his chest. “I came to offer my assistance, Captain Lytton.” He gave her a wink. “You do not want my help?”

  “Oh, couldn’t he?” Tommy pleaded. “We could win for sure!”

  Charlie shook his head at the same moment Faith did. “Any other time, we’d love for you to be on our team, but you’re too big.”

  “And”—Faith piped up—”we need to win on our own. They’d never admit to us winning if we allow you to help.”

  George looked a bit amused. He crossed his arms and sat hunkered in the reeds.

  Faith placed a hand over his. “I can do this.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I have no doubt. So when does it begin?”

  The horn sounded across the pond.

  “Now.” Faith left George and crawled to the edge of the pond, waving for the others to follow. Not even looking back to see if everyone was with her, she climbed into the small skiff. Each thunk behind her told her another teammate had climbed in as she kept an eye on the sides. So far so good. They didn’t seem to weigh it down too much. Give another point to the scrawny team. Taking one more glance to the rear, she looked at Charlie. He nodded from the back. They were all in and crouched down. Faith and Charlie each had a paddle and started rowing as quietly as they could toward a small island covered with trees in the middle of the pond. The scent of algae and grass filled her nose. Her nose twitched. Holding in a sneeze to keep from giving away her team’s position, Faith scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

  A few minutes later, her face cracked into a smile as they reached the island. All was quiet. So far, the other team hadn’t noticed the new strategy. The league had no idea what they were doing. Faith held a finger over her lips as her team snuck out of the boat. They kept quiet as they picked up the skiff and carried it through the trees.

  At the breach in the trees on the other side, Faith hurried them forward. “We are almost there.” She kept her voice as low as possible. “From this point on, it’s run across the beach and then row as fast as we can.”

  Anticipation glowed on the boys’ faces. The win was within their grasp, and they all knew it. It took more than a half hour to run around the pond, and that was without hindrances of watching for the enemy. It had been maybe ten minutes, and they were over halfway there—and their opponents were still unaware of their strategy.

  Running for all she was worth, Faith dragged the band of small boys along with the boat to the shore. Once they were back in the water, her energy surged, and she paddled with every ounce of strength she had.

  A yell echoed across the water. “Where did they go?”

  A few more yells answered back. No one from the league knew where her team was. Not even risking a glance behind, Faith paddled the last few strokes. They reached the opposite shore and tumbled out on top of each other. She grinned. The other team’s flag stood in front of them not more than twenty feet. Could George see them? Wouldn’t he be proud?

  “Come on!” Faith ran toward the flag and didn’t care if anyone heard her. “Let’s capture it together! All of us!”

  Robert ran from the north side of the woods and his jaw dropped. He waved his arms, screaming at his team to come out from hiding.

  When her team reached the flag, Faith yelled for all she was worth. “We won! We captured the league’s flag!”

  Robert kicked at the dirt then started throwing rocks which splashed in great kerplunks in the pond. Apparently he was the one who should have been guarding their flag.

  It wasn’t hard to determine that he wasn’t happy about losing. After several moments of his fit, several other boys raced to his side and the calamity only grew. Until they spotted George across the pond, walking toward the field.

  Faith knew the exact moment they spotted him because they all straightened up and stopped acting like two-year-olds.

  Robert pulled the horn from inside his shirt and blew three short bursts calling everyone back.

  Faith grabbed the flag and marched to the field area where the two teams had met before they began. Her team chanted about their victory while she carried the flag, and her chest swelled with pride. She’d done it. Well, they’d done it. But it had been her idea, and it worked.

  It took a long time for everyone to reach the field. Several of the league boys were covered in mud and leaves—obviously from the places they’d been hiding to ambush Faith’s team—and none looked too happy.

  George strode toward the group and immediately the bigger boys from the league approached him with their cries of cheating. He shook his head and smiled. “They did not cheat. I watched the whole thing. It was a brilliant and well-executed plan.”

  Robert began to argue again. But George held up a hand and stopped him. “Every time you play—win or lose—you learn a little more. Faith’s strategy was a good one, and it will challenge all of you to come up with different strategies next time.” He laid a hand on Robert’s shoulder and winked. “It helps to have a sneaky girl and smaller teammates sometimes—everyone can have value on a team. Not just the strong ones.”

  Faith beamed under George’s praise. Not only had her team beat the undefeated League of Victorious Virginians—a name she would demand they change considering today’s loss—but her dear friend had helped to teach those big boys a lesson. And they always listened to George.

  Maybe next time they would suggest dividing the teams up evenly. But as Faith gazed around at her group, she wasn’t sure she’d want a different troop of soldiers. Her team—scrawny as they were—lifted her up on their shoulders, and she waved the opponent’s flag. Smiling at George, she yelled quite dramatically, “Victory or death!”

  Her older friend laughed. “Let us hope it never comes to that, young Faith…er, excuse me, Captain Lytton.” He bowed low.

  Movement behind George’s bent frame caused Faith to jump down from the boys’ shoulders. Morton—her father’s valet—ran toward them looking quite grim.

  Morton never ran.

  Her heart drummed and sank. Dread drowned out her joy of victory. Then she saw it. Smoke.

  Rising in the distance above her home.

  George stood by the fireplace in his mother’s parlor an
d listened to Morton and the Lyttons’ solicitor. A man George knew all too well because Mr. Crenshaw had also been his father’s solicitor. Over the years, the gentleman had steered George in understanding his own inheritance. Small as it was, if not for Lawrence—his older brother—and Crenshaw, George would have been lost. His father’s death at such a young age had dealt a huge blow to him. How would Faith deal with double the loss? How could he help her?

  But he had to. He stood straighter under the new weight he carried.

  She was now his ward.

  At age twenty, George began to feel the full scope of what lay before him. Faith had always been like a puppy following him around. She was like another little sister to him. She adored him. And he had always enjoyed the little sprite’s company.

  But now he was responsible for her well-being. For managing her estate until she was old enough to inherit.

  He turned his attention back to Crenshaw.

  Luke and Patience Lytton had been killed in a blaze that took out half the manor in minutes. The Lyttons had property, slaves, servants, and a vast amount of wealth. Faith was their only child.

  Before he died, George’s father—Augustine, otherwise known as Gus—had been best friends with Luke. Apparently, Luke had asked Gus to take care of his family in case anything happened to him. And in case of the loss of both Mr. and Mrs. Lytton, Gus Washington would become Faith’s guardian until she turned twenty-one and inherited her family’s fortune.

  The mantle had passed to George when his father died. Lawrence was too far away at Mount Vernon to handle anything here. Luke Lytton had never wanted his will changed, telling Crenshaw that if anyone would look out for Faith and her best interests, it would be George.

  But Luke couldn’t have thought he’d leave this life so soon. Faith was but the tender age of ten. George a mere twenty.

  He looked out the window. Not only would the Lytton manor need to be restored, but the staff would all need taking care of, the estate would need to thrive so it would provide stable income for Faith’s future. And then there was the question of where she would live. The life of a surveyor was not a decent life for a young girl, and it would hardly be appropriate for him to drag her along on his journeys. She certainly couldn’t stay with his mother. Mary Ball Washington would neither understand nor abide Faith’s precocious nature—one of his favorite things about his young friend. He’d hate to see it squashed.

  His heart ached to think of her dealing with the loss of both parents. Faith was strong, but their family had been very close. Much closer than George had ever felt with his.

  A knock at the door brought his attention back to the room. Mary—Mrs. Lytton’s maid—came toward George. “I am sorry to bother you, sir”—she bowed—”but young Faith wants no one but you. She has done nothing but cry, and we cannot convince her to eat or sleep.”

  George straightened and nodded. “Let me accompany you back to the house and see what I can do.” He turned to the solicitor. “Is there anything else that needs my attention at the moment?”

  “No.” He gathered his things. “I will bring the papers to you in the morning.”

  “Thank you.” George bowed and then kissed his mother’s cheek before heading out the door. As he walked the short distance between the two farms, a new idea formed. Maybe a change of scenery would be good for Faith. The Martins in Boston didn’t have any children and George trusted them with his life. Would they take Faith in for the rest of her upbringing? If they’d be willing, she could have the finest of schooling and tutors and would be surrounded by the best society had to offer. He’d have to get a letter off immediately.

  But if he moved Faith to Boston, it would be difficult for him to visit as often. Unless he chose a different line of work. An option that held some appeal.

  Stepping into the Lyttons’ parlor, his eyes watered. Smoke still hung in the air. Faith couldn’t stay here. Neither should the servants. On the settee, Faith was curled up into a ball, her dress still covered in dirt from her jaunty game of war, and her arms wrapped around her mother’s shawl. With swollen green eyes, she looked up at him. Tears streamed down her face in silent rivers of pain.

  George understood the heartache etched into her features all too well. He reached for her hand. “Let us go for a walk, shall we?”

  She nodded and took his hand but kept the shawl tucked under her other arm.

  They headed toward the apple orchard. One of her favorite places.

  Silence stretched between them for a good while as he led her to a little hill and settled down on the grass. The air was sweet and fresh. Faith sat beside him and rested her head on his arm.

  Unsure of where to begin or how to reach her broken heart, George thought it best to be honest. “I lost my father when I was about your age.”

  She nodded against his arm.

  “It devastated me, and I felt lost for a long time. But the good Lord above saw me through.”

  Faith began to sob.

  “It is not within my power to bring them back or take away the pain, dear girl. But I can promise that I will do my best to take care of you and make certain that all is well for your future.”

  “I do not want to stay here right now. It scares me. Can I go with you?”

  Exactly the question he’d expected from her. He sighed. “I don’t think so, but I have an idea. It may take me a bit to arrange everything. But I will make sure you are happy and well.”

  “You will send me away?” She sounded resigned. Her tone so matter of fact, even though he noticed the quiver of her lower lip.

  “It will not be like that, little Faith. I have trusted friends in Boston. If they are in agreement with my plan, I think it will be the perfect place for you to be for a while.”

  She nodded. “I do not like the thought of being so far away, but I do not want to be here right now. Maybe not ever.” A small sigh made her shudder. “Will you come visit?”

  “Yes.”

  “And write letters? Like before?”

  “Yes. I will even write more often.”

  She tucked her hand back into his. “It hurts really bad, George.”

  “I know.” He squeezed her hand. “But the ache will ease a bit over time. And you will always have your wonderful memories. Your parents were the finest people I’ve ever known.”

  Sniffing, she sat up. “I want them back.” Her voice cracked.

  It was hard to imagine that mere hours ago, he’d watched Faith be carried on her team’s shoulders in victory. Independent and strong-willed, the young girl had cried, “Victory or death!”

  The contrast now was chilling. She seemed smaller and fragile, as if she could shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

  Loss could do that. But could that fiery, fearless leader come back from such a blow? He hated to see her defeated and worn. He’d have to do everything he could to help Faith survive and become vibrant once again.

  Maybe they both needed to leave Virginia for a while.

  Boston sounded better the more he thought about it.

  “George?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m an orphan now, aren’t I.”

  His heart felt like it stopped for a breath as he looked into Faith’s sad eyes. What could he possibly say to her to help ease the pain? “No.” The sigh that left his lips felt heavy. “You are a child of our heavenly Father, so you are never truly an orphan. And don’t forget…you have me.” He tapped her nose like he used to when she was just a toddler following him around. “You will always have me while I’m here on this earth.”

  “I completely trust you, George.” She took in a shaky breath and wiped tears from her cheeks. “But I do not like that God took my parents from me.”

  The hurt and anger in her voice surprised him, but he knew it would stay with her for a while. It was part of grieving someone you loved. But George sat up a little straighter. Part of being Faith’s guardian meant steering her in the truth. “I do not believe that God to
ok your parents from you, Faith. And He’s far more trustworthy than I am. But I will do my best to be His representative here—to show you how good He is.”

  “I feel very alone.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You are never alone, my friend.”

  “But what about when you leave?”

  “God will be with you. I promise.”

  Matthew Weber sat hidden in the corner of Charles Thomson’s study and waited for word from him. Charles was not only a good friend but the secretary of the Continental Congress as well. His appointment as secretary had been fortuitous for them all. The plan had been to meet after the Congress so they could discuss what needed to be done next. A tap sounded on the door, and Matthew ducked deeper into the dark shadows. His heart pounded.

  It wasn’t the planned signal.

  Who would be coming to the secretary’s home tonight?

  Matthew couldn’t let anyone loyal to the King know he was here. And no one knew for sure when they might run into a Loyalist. It made things exceedingly difficult as the weeks passed.

  A familiar face entered. A broad grin stretched across his face, Benjamin Franklin shut the door. “Matthew, I presume that is you hidden over there?”

  Relief rushed through his veins. Shaking his head and letting his breath out in a great whoosh, Matthew laughed and stepped into the light. “Yes, ‘tis me, Ben. But you did not use the appropriate signal, and by the way, wouldn’t that have been a tad risky—mentioning my name—when you were not sure ‘twas me?”

  “If I had not been sure, yes.” The older man shook a finger at him. His gray eyes twinkling. “But Simpson acknowledged you were already here. And frankly, I wanted to see how you would handle the situation. Good show, had I not known you were here, I wouldn’t have seen you.”