It had only been a short walk to the riverbank, but his foot was throbbing. Thank God for Elisha’s cane—and for Lydia’s sharp wit and calm demeanor as she played along with his scheme. Thank God Major Reed and his men wouldn’t think to look for him here. Unlike the bright-red coats of the Tories, his stained cotton shirt blended into the willows and underbrush. He sank onto the ground, hidden by the barren branches, and watched Lydia stroll like a gentle lady toward the main house. Her beautiful chestnut hair was hidden behind the hood of her cloak, and she didn’t make the slightest move to look his way. Part of him wished she would look one last time, a parting glance of sorts, a secret for them to keep. But even a single glance was risky. Anyone watching her might suspect his location if she had. If only she was on the Patriots’ side— But she wasn’t, and no amount of wishing would change Lydia or her family’s loyalties. Still, he owed his life to her. Once the Patriots won this war, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
What do You think about The Courier Of Caswell Hall?
