The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels Page 28

  “Mr. Graves? He isn’t here.” Every eye leveled on the driver, who was straightening his jacket and looking as though he wasn’t afraid of the men that surrounded him. He noticed his fallen cap and shoved it down over a head full of curly brown hair.

  The driver sounded smug. Graves? Matthew wondered. Who was Graves?

  O’Malley swung just as Matthew approached the driver’s bench, and his fist landed solid on the young man’s face. The driver reached up and touched his bloodied lip, but simply glared at O’Malley.

  O’Malley swore. “Graves?”

  The man looked confused, his bushy brows drawing low. “Of course. You just tried to rob his carriage.”

  “We….” O’Malley cut short. Without another word, he scrambled from the driver’s seat and leapt back onto his horse. In an instant, they were all mounted again and formed up.

  Matthew hesitated and looked at the driver. The others were leaving him behind, but he had to know.

  “You knew,” he said simply.

  Something flashed in the man’s eyes so fast Matthew nearly missed it. He pressed his lips together.

  Matthew drew a breath. Was he angry or relieved? The emotions warring in his mind must have betrayed him on his face.

  “Look. I don’t know you,” the driver said. “But whatever you’re in, it would be best if you got out.”

  The words were so low and so haunting that Matthew thought his heart had stilled. He took a sharp intake of breath and looked at the men beginning to pull away.

  “How?” It was the only word that mattered. But, why would this man tell him anything?

  The driver’s brows pulled lower on his head. He would say nothing more.

  Matthew dug his heels into his horse and hit a canter in a single breath. As he left the carriage behind, one thought pulsed in his head and sent chills down his spine.

  They were known.

  “Ruined! All my prospects blighted!”

  Annabelle galloped away from the approaching men and toward a terrified Peggy. Peggy awkwardly spun her horse and urged it to start trotting in the other direction just before Annabelle nearly plowed into her.

  Annabelle overtook her easily and threw a look over her shoulder that told Peggy she had better forget her fear and get that horse to do more than trot. Thankfully, the pounding hooves behind her soon attested to Peggy’s acquiescence.

  The plot had been thwarted! She breathed a quick prayer of thanks heavenward that the driver had believed her. But, if President Lincoln was not in the carriage, where had he gone? Why did the driver even come down the road at all?

  They galloped on and came to the edge of Washington. Annabelle drew up the reins, and Peggy came up beside her. Annabelle jerked her head to the side.

  “Let’s turn this way. Keep at a walk and your head down. If we look normal, maybe no one will notice us.”

  Galloping back to the stable would do nothing but gain them unwanted attention. Not to mention that they probably couldn’t get through this crowd without trampling someone.

  Peggy grumbled something under her breath but followed Annabelle’s instructions. Annabelle’s heart thudded. Would they know it was she who had undone their plans? She had to get back to the house. If she were lucky, she might be able to determine their next move before the men returned.

  She kept her head low, trying not to look at the people on the street. After what felt like hours of taking an indirect course and thankfully not getting lost, Annabelle and Peggy finally came to a stop just down the road from the stable. Annabelle dropped down from the horse, proud of herself for learning to do so without a man’s assistance.

  She handed the reins over to Peggy, who clenched her teeth as she led the horses away. A female slave returning the horses to the groom was a lot less odd that a woman dressed as a man doing it. No one might have suspected her from horseback, but she was certain they would know her as a female from up close.

  She edged into the shadow of a brick building, just inside a narrow alleyway that separated this structure from the next. Keeping her hat low, she watched the people as they passed by, unaware that the man in the alley was actually the woman who had just saved President Lincoln.

  Even the biting wind and the ominous clouds could not dampen her spirits now. She smiled to herself. If they hurried, they could sneak back to the outhouse and get changed before anyone wondered….

  A calloused hand clamped over her mouth.

  Annabelle tried to scream, but the sound lodged in her throat. She began to kick and claw at the thick arm wrapped around her as she was pulled deeper into the shadows.

  “Still yourself,” the man growled in her ear. Then he groaned. “I should have known.”

  Annabelle paused at the sound of the familiar voice, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  He thrust her away from his chest. “You had better explain yourself!”

  Annabelle whirled around to face Matthew, heat coursing through her body like flashing lightening. “How dare you!” she spat.

  His eyes glinted and he grabbed hold of her wrist, tugging her along behind him as he stalked deeper into the alley.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  “I’m not letting you run from me again,” he said, his voice low.

  Annabelle snapped her mouth shut and stumbled along behind him. What did he mean to do? He tugged her deeper into the small space between the two brick buildings and then flung her around to face him.

  She winced, and he instantly dropped her wrist. She rubbed at it with the other hand, staring hard at him. His gaze dropped and regret flittered across his face, but he offered no apology. Annabelle thrust her arms behind her and away from his probing gaze. She looked at the ground to hide the traitorous tears that flooded her eyes before he could see them.

  She refused to blink and instead stared at his feet until her eyes had dried sufficiently. Then her gaze traveled up Matthew from his feet, set shoulder-width apart, to his wide chest and arms held behind his back. When she reached his face, she found his features hard. Even so, her heart lurched just as it had when he’d given her the silver horse on the steps. Why did that seem like ages ago?

  The weeks of whiskers that had been scraped clean made him look much younger than he had during their long ride. With his hair pulled back from his face and secured at the nape of his neck… she had the strangest impulse to release it and see what it would feel like between her fingers.

  Enough! She chided. She must not allow this softness she felt for him make her forget his lies.

  “What did you do?” His clipped words jolted her back to reality. The man who’d plotted to steal away the president and had dragged her through his lies glared down at her with anything but tenderness.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and wished she were not dressed as a man. Even in the heavy overcoat, she felt exposed in trousers that hugged her legs too closely. She suddenly missed the protective curtain a dress provided for her figure.

  Annabelle lifted her chin and determined he would not know her discomfort. He would not see her weakness.

  “I followed you,” she stated flatly.

  The muscles in his jaw worked for a moment before he spoke. “As I can see.”

  She forced herself to hold his gaze. When he said no more, she could no longer stand it. “You lied to me!”

  “I protected you!”

  “How could you, could you…?” She stammered to a halt. “What?”

  He made a low sound in his throat, and suddenly his arms were around her. Matthew crushed her against his chest so tightly she could hear the rapid beat of his heart.

  “What if you had been seen? Do you know what they might have done to you?”

  She resisted the urge to enjoy his touch, reminding herself he was one of them. She threw her hands up between them and pushed.

  He let her go.

  She stumbled back and stared at him.

  “I have tried to keep you safe,” he s
aid with a husky voice. “The less you know, the better.” His eyes searched hers as if begging her to understand.

  She couldn’t. “What you meant to do was treason!”

  Anger flittered across his face. “To whom? We would have gained a bargaining chip from the enemy!”

  Enemy. The word slithered over her. She had to remember that she sat on a very dangerous line. Being known as a Southern plantation holder with Northern sympathies would gain her no friends on either side. She swallowed the lump gathering at the back of her throat.

  Matthew reached forward as if to touch her cheek but quickly dropped his hand. “I ask again, what did you do?”

  She drew her brows together and glared at him.

  The muscles in his neck fought against the confines of his shirt collar. “If you found out and somehow managed to warn them….” He shook his head. “I do not trust O’Malley to let your gender stay his hand.”

  Her insides clenched. Would O’Malley really harm her?

  Matthew took another step closer. “It is too late for me, but not for you.”

  Before she could protest, he reached up and pulled a stray lock of hair from her cap and rubbed it between his fingers. “Since I failed in shielding you from this, I must now remove you from it.”

  She craned her neck to look up at him. He was so close that the slightest lift of her arm would place her hand upon him. She blinked rapidly.

  What did he mean, remove her?

  He dropped her hair and gripped both of her shoulders instead. “They won’t let you go now. You can’t say a word about this to anyone.” He squeezed harder. “Do you hear me, Annabelle?”

  She nodded, but still he didn’t release her.

  “What do we do now?” she asked. She meant the words to come out confident, to prove she was worthy as any man. Instead, they came out in a squeak.

  His brows gathered again. “We get you out of here.”

  “What about you?”

  Hush! The best thing for you is to take his offer and get as far away from him as possible!

  A sad smile spread on his lips. “I have to find my brother.”

  Annabelle put her hands on top of his and watched the surprise flicker across his face. “What if there was another way to get him free? Can’t you see this is madness?”

  His chest swelled with a deep breath, but Annabelle hurried on before he could answer. “And, now that they know of one attempt, do you not think the next time there will be someone there to capture you?”

  Actually, she was amazed that hadn’t happened this time.

  He took a step back, dropping his hands. “I am sorry, but it’s just too late.”

  Foolish man and his ridiculous pride! She turned and stalked away. He caught her wrist before she’d made it three paces. She paused but didn’t look at him.

  “I wish things were different, Annabelle.”

  She waited, furiously blinking away tears that gathered in her eyes.

  He heaved a sigh, dropping her hand. “Get back to the house, and be sure no one sees you in men’s clothes. Get your things together. I’m taking you to Westerly.”

  She spun around and narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think I will go?”

  His face hardened, and part of her regretted the words, though not enough that she wished to call them back. She had been too soft already, and that had gained her nothing.

  “You have changed your mind on our deal?”

  She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking but managed to keep her words even. “Peggy thinks we should go to New York, to my mother’s family.”

  “What do you think?”

  She pulled her lower lip through her teeth. If she went north, what would happen to Rosswood? But, how could she trust the man in front of her? “And what would I do at Westerly?”

  “Stay with my mother,” Matthew said quickly. “Heaven knows she could use the company. I will return as soon as I have George free and have kept my word.” His eyes bore into hers.

  She searched his face. If he took her to Westerly, they wouldn’t be here when the law surely came for him. She dipped her chin. “Very well,” fell from her lips before she could think better of it.

  Without another word, she turned and scurried from the alleyway, and this time he did not seek to stop her.

  Breathing heavily, she hurried into the dampened sunlight and toward the stable. Peggy stood on the sidewalk, wringing her hands. As soon as she laid eyes on Annabelle, her face turned from worry to anger. By the time Annabelle reached her side, she felt like a child about to receive a tongue-lashing.

  “Where in the heavens have you been? You done scared me silly!”

  “I’m sorry. I… had to speak with Matthew.”

  Peggy put her hand on top of her head. “Lawd, this here child is gonna be the death of me!”

  Annabelle grabbed her arm. “Come on! We have to get moving.”

  Peggy snorted but fell in step beside her. Annabelle released Peggy and stuffed her hands in her pockets, keeping her head ducked and her eyes on the dirty boots on her feet. She hoped O’Malley would never discover she’d taken his clothes from the drying line.

  They made it to the back of the boarding house without incident, and to her sheer astonishment, Annabelle was back into her own clothes and was reaching for her bedroom door before the men burst into the house, bellowing curses.

  She glanced at Peggy, who wrung her hands. “What happened to that driver what was gonna take us to New York?” she whispered. “I better go and try to fetch him again.”

  Annabelle held up a hand to shush her and crept closer to the top of the stairs. The voices carried to her clearly.

  “After having everything so finely planned!” a man bellowed. Annabelle recognized him as the son of Mrs. Surratt, whose given name she could not remember.

  Someone hushed him, and their voices lowered. Annabelle grimaced. Mrs. Surratt appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and Annabelle stumbled backward, nearly tripping on her skirts before she got back into her room. She latched the door as quietly as possible and crossed to the other side of the room. Had the woman seen her?

  Peggy’s eyes were large and white against her dark face, and Annabelle wondered if she was even breathing. Footsteps thudded up the stairs and stopped outside the door. Annabelle held her own breath and waited for the knock.

  When it came, both women still jumped. Annabelle nodded to Peggy to open the door, and she straightened herself as best she could.

  “Hello, madam,” Peggy said to the landlady.

  “A message arrived for your mistress,” she said, though she didn’t produce anything.

  “Oh, do come in,” Annabelle said, waving for Peggy to step back.

  Mrs. Surratt stepped into the room, looking around if she expected to find something hidden. “It came when you were out. Seeing the town, I suppose…?”

  Annabelle forced a vapid smile. “Oh, yes. I had hoped to. But, that terrible mud….” She wrinkled her nose. “It makes things so difficult. I’m afraid I didn’t get far from the house before I simply could not stand it any longer.”

  The woman looked at her as if she hadn’t any wits to spare. Annabelle fluttered her lashes. “You said I had a message?”

  The woman fished around in the pocket of her velvet dress and held out a folded paper. “Yes. I’m assuming this letter addressed to Miss Daniels is meant for you?”

  Annabelle forced a giggle. “Oh, yes, a simple misunderstanding. I said I was traveling with Mr. Daniels. He must have gotten that confused with my name.”

  “Oh. Well, it’s interesting how a message would find you here, seeing as how you’ve been here such a short while.”

  Annabelle thought quickly. “Oh, but I did know where I was going. Captain Daniels told me. I’ve been expecting to hear from my grandfather, back at home. He’ll want to know we arrived safely, of course.”

  The woman huffed but handed over the paper. Annabelle nodded her thanks but d
id not open it yet.

  They stood there in silence as Annabelle’s heart felt like it would gallop out of her chest.

  Finally, Mrs. Surratt said, “Well, I will leave you to it, then.”

  Peggy closed the door behind the landlady and then leaned hard against it. For several moments, neither of them spoke. Annabelle shoved the message into her pocket and finally released a long breath, offering Peggy a tentative smile.

  The look she got in return withered her fragile hope that the woman had bought her act.

  Peggy’s eyes were alight with fear. “Get your stuff, girl!” she hissed. “That woman knows!”

  “The whole thing has failed! But, to think, so fine a plan going astray, and in such a manner! Could he have been warned?”

  Matthew watched O’Malley pace the floor. His face was so red Matthew feared it would explode from the pressure building up inside.

  “How could our plans go awry?”

  Matthew looked to the other man, but he offered no reply. The Surratt man, Booth, and the men he’d brought had left together, and Matthew suspected O’Malley’s anger sprouted nearly as much from being left out of their planning as from not having captured Lincoln. Only Matthew, Harry, and O’Malley remained. The landlady had appeared briefly before silently retreating. How much was she aware of?

  “He should have killed him at the inauguration! He had the chance, the coward!” O’Malley growled.

  Matthew stared at him. O’Malley was no longer sane. He glanced to Harry but saw none of the horror written on his face that Matthew felt clawing in his stomach. He stepped away from them, making his way to the door. He had to get Annabelle out of here.

  He stepped backward to the doorway, keeping his eyes on O’Malley.

  O’Malley quit his pacing and swung his wild gaze onto Matthew. “Where are you going, Daniels?”

  “The plan has failed, O’Malley,” Matthew said evenly.

  “No! Merely delayed!”

  Matthew didn’t move as O’Malley crossed the green rug and came to stand in front of him. “I will see this through! I will see it happen!”