Read Online The Blacksmith's Daughter: A Mystery of the American Revolution by Suzanne Adair - Free Book Online
Authors: Suzanne Adair
Ads: Link
prudent that, upon your return to Augusta, you
surrender the letter to Colonel Thomas Brown for his expert examination."
Colonel Thomas Brown: Adam
Neville's superior officer, His Majesty's Ranger. Could Lieutenant Fairfax be right about the letter containing a
cipher from the rebels? Not liking the
thought of it, Betsy moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Sir, if Colonel Brown finds a hidden
message, whom do you suppose was the intended recipient?"
Sheffield and Stoddard regarded
her, their expressions revealing nothing, and didn't answer. The clock in the study ticked. She swallowed, and sweat trickled between her
breasts. "Oh, see here, you must
know by now that I am not an agent of the rebels."
"Madam, if you've been
forthright with us, you've nothing to fear."
If Sheffield meant his smile to
reassure her, he failed. They did
indeed suspect a rebel cipher in Arriaga's letter, but they weren't certain it
had been intended for her .
Cordovan leather. Sooty Johns and two Spaniards in the middle
of the night. Dear heavens. Clark .
"I shall direct Mr. Fairfax to
confiscate the letter immediately upon your return to Augusta and present it to
Colonel Brown. Mr. Stoddard, please
escort Mrs. Sheridan back to the house for the night. Thank you for your diligence, madam."
Fairfax. Oh, gods. "Captain." Stoddard at
her elbow, Betsy turned back to Sheffield in the doorway. "Sir, it would put me at great ease if
Mr. Stoddard accompanied us back to Augusta on the morrow, rather than Mr.
Fairfax."
"Ah." The diplomatic neutrality slid over
Sheffield's face again. "I'm
honored by the confidence you've gained in my officer. Alas, I need him here in Alton. Believe me when I say that if I didn't trust
Mr. Fairfax to see you safely back to Augusta, I'd most certainly send Mr.
Stoddard in his stead. Again, I thank
you for your assistance and cooperation. Give my regards to your husband, and may you both rest well
tonight."
Chapter Seven
BETSY WAITED IN the saddle for a
laconic Stoddard to mount his horse before nudging her mare north behind
him. Her thoughts reeled about, and her
pulse quivered like a caged songbird stalked by a housecat. What a predicament she'd woven. The redcoats expected her to surrender
Arriaga's letter the next day, but she couldn't risk their uncovering a cipher
that might incriminate Clark. She saw
no option but to forge a copy of the letter for them while everyone slept. Why, oh why, had she ignored David's warning
to stay away from Alton?
Five lots north, they passed tanner
Givens's shop and home, where Clark had visited that afternoon. A crash from within prompted Stoddard to
halt their horses. "Did you hear
that?"
A man on horseback galloped from
behind the house out onto the street and flew north past them, his expression
shadow-gouged and contorted with malice. Enough light existed for Betsy to recognize the sensual lips and dark
eyes and hair of a Spaniard. Not one of
the men who'd visited Clark in the middle of the night, but a Spaniard
nonetheless.
"Bloody hell!" Stoddard groped for a pistol at his saddle.
No other soldiers were within hail. Alton's civilians were all snoring
abed, imbibing at the Red Rock, or losing money over the cockfight. Betsy steadied her spooked mare. "Lieutenant, you mustn't give
chase! The Givenses! I fear for the family!"
He stared from the gloom of night,
where the Spaniard had vanished, to the house, to Betsy before he expelled a
breath with decision, recognizing his priorities. "Wait here. I shall
check on the family." He
dismounted and handed her the reins and one pistol. "I presume you know how to fire this." He removed the other pistol and cocked it
halfway. "If the Spaniard returns,
shoot him."
Night at the rear of the Givens's
house swallowed him. Anxiety slicked
Betsy's palms. The distant hoot of an
owl startled her.
surrender the letter to Colonel Thomas Brown for his expert examination."
Colonel Thomas Brown: Adam
Neville's superior officer, His Majesty's Ranger. Could Lieutenant Fairfax be right about the letter containing a
cipher from the rebels? Not liking the
thought of it, Betsy moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Sir, if Colonel Brown finds a hidden
message, whom do you suppose was the intended recipient?"
Sheffield and Stoddard regarded
her, their expressions revealing nothing, and didn't answer. The clock in the study ticked. She swallowed, and sweat trickled between her
breasts. "Oh, see here, you must
know by now that I am not an agent of the rebels."
"Madam, if you've been
forthright with us, you've nothing to fear."
If Sheffield meant his smile to
reassure her, he failed. They did
indeed suspect a rebel cipher in Arriaga's letter, but they weren't certain it
had been intended for her .
Cordovan leather. Sooty Johns and two Spaniards in the middle
of the night. Dear heavens. Clark .
"I shall direct Mr. Fairfax to
confiscate the letter immediately upon your return to Augusta and present it to
Colonel Brown. Mr. Stoddard, please
escort Mrs. Sheridan back to the house for the night. Thank you for your diligence, madam."
Fairfax. Oh, gods. "Captain." Stoddard at
her elbow, Betsy turned back to Sheffield in the doorway. "Sir, it would put me at great ease if
Mr. Stoddard accompanied us back to Augusta on the morrow, rather than Mr.
Fairfax."
"Ah." The diplomatic neutrality slid over
Sheffield's face again. "I'm
honored by the confidence you've gained in my officer. Alas, I need him here in Alton. Believe me when I say that if I didn't trust
Mr. Fairfax to see you safely back to Augusta, I'd most certainly send Mr.
Stoddard in his stead. Again, I thank
you for your assistance and cooperation. Give my regards to your husband, and may you both rest well
tonight."
Chapter Seven
BETSY WAITED IN the saddle for a
laconic Stoddard to mount his horse before nudging her mare north behind
him. Her thoughts reeled about, and her
pulse quivered like a caged songbird stalked by a housecat. What a predicament she'd woven. The redcoats expected her to surrender
Arriaga's letter the next day, but she couldn't risk their uncovering a cipher
that might incriminate Clark. She saw
no option but to forge a copy of the letter for them while everyone slept. Why, oh why, had she ignored David's warning
to stay away from Alton?
Five lots north, they passed tanner
Givens's shop and home, where Clark had visited that afternoon. A crash from within prompted Stoddard to
halt their horses. "Did you hear
that?"
A man on horseback galloped from
behind the house out onto the street and flew north past them, his expression
shadow-gouged and contorted with malice. Enough light existed for Betsy to recognize the sensual lips and dark
eyes and hair of a Spaniard. Not one of
the men who'd visited Clark in the middle of the night, but a Spaniard
nonetheless.
"Bloody hell!" Stoddard groped for a pistol at his saddle.
No other soldiers were within hail. Alton's civilians were all snoring
abed, imbibing at the Red Rock, or losing money over the cockfight. Betsy steadied her spooked mare. "Lieutenant, you mustn't give
chase! The Givenses! I fear for the family!"
He stared from the gloom of night,
where the Spaniard had vanished, to the house, to Betsy before he expelled a
breath with decision, recognizing his priorities. "Wait here. I shall
check on the family." He
dismounted and handed her the reins and one pistol. "I presume you know how to fire this." He removed the other pistol and cocked it
halfway. "If the Spaniard returns,
shoot him."
Night at the rear of the Givens's
house swallowed him. Anxiety slicked
Betsy's palms. The distant hoot of an
owl startled her.
Similar Books
