Felicity: An American Girl ROMANCE, PT.3 Ch.1: One Moment's Weakness...
Author's Note: The battle for America's independence is over. But Felicity's battle has just begun! Who can save her? Or will she simply have to save herself the only way she believes she can? Felicity Merriman has gone to war. Brace yourself!
Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom/ Well who am I to keep you down?/ It's only right that you should play the way you feel it/ But listen carefully to the sound/ Of your lonliness, Like a heartbeat drives you mad/ In the stillness of remembering what you had, and what you lost/ And what you had, and what you lost/ Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining/ Players only love you when they're playing / Say women, they will come and they will go/ When the rain washes you clean, you'll know/ You will know -lines from 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac
Ben Davidson had never felt so sick in all of his life. Sick in his heart, sick in his soul. His entire life, his very future, had just shattered like glass. She was gone. Just utterly gone. The only evidence that she had even been there that morning was his signal whistle, laying there in the dirt, still tied together at its string ends, but seemingly broken in another place on the cord. And where she had been upon her knees in front of the steps to the store (begging to be heard, pleading for understanding), there were footprints larger than her dainty ones, all about her kneeling place.
And then Ben Davidson knew.
After he had blown up at her, practically devastated her into shock, called her a whore and just left her crying there, he'd gone to the nearest watering hole to drown his anger, self-pity and disgust into as much liquor as he could hold. That watering hole just happened to be the Wetherburn Tavern, just a few buildings down from Merriman's Store. He had burst into the closest door, teeth clenched, fists clenched, eyes full of fury, and demanded the strongest drink in the house be brought to him in the corner of the room. He'd had every intention of getting piss-drunk and damning Felicity Merriman from his life forever.
The bar-keep had brought him a tall tankard of the house's strongest ale as he sat there in the room's corner sulking, brooding and feeling quite murderous. He completely ignored the curious looks he was getting from the tavern's patrons, for all he could do was stew upon was the heart-destroying betrayal of the young woman he thought he had loved.
But if he had only thought that he loved her, then the betrayal would not be hurting so much.
"How's that girl of yours this mornin', Ben?" the bar-keep had asked him, for the older man had known Ben since the beginning of his apprenticeship in Williamsburg. "Any better?"
"I would rather be left alone, if you don't mind," Ben had muttered tensely, grinding the short fingernails of one hand into the table's polished surface.
"Sure, Ben," the bar-keep had replied easily, setting the ale tankard down. "Just wanted to know if that ill-mannered Gooch-fella caused any more trouble for the lass."
Ben stopped in mid-reach for his drink, glaring up at the older man. "Who?"
"Gooch. Overheard 'im talkin' to Miss Felicity and Mr. Pratt last night. Fella just wouldn't let 'em leave until they had a drink with 'im! I've seen men who loved their liquor, but I aint never seen a man practically force a sweet young lady to take part in a drinking toast when she was clearly not in good spirits."
Ben winced, his stormy brown eyes scrutinizing. "What did you say the man's name was?"
"'Gooch.' Ever heard the like before? He's one of them hunters from up North, I heard 'im say. Got loud when he started drinkin' last night. Heh! He seemed to be the only one wantin' to make a celebration. Your gal an' Mr. Pratt looked like he was givin' 'em the thunderin' shudders!"
Ben frowned harder. "Whatever that man-that Mr. Gooch-put in our drinks had made Arthur and me very ill..."
The bar-keep interrupted his thoughts. "So I was just wantin' to know if Miss Felicity got home safe and sound, that's all." He leaned toward Ben and lowered his voice. "He left just as soon as she and Arthur Pratt did, and you know me, Ben: I don't ever get nosy 'bout folks unless they act strange. This big fella was 'bout as strange as that Forsythe-Loyalist that used to hang around!"
There had been a cold, hard knot growing in the pit of Ben's stomach as soon as the old bar-keep had said the name Gooch. The name Forsythe had made the super-sensitive hairs on the back of his neck stand up faster than a soldier snapping to attention.
"Forsythe had it done!"
And then another voice, sinister and knowingly prophetic, oozed into his head: Knowing you, you will not realize what is happening until it has already happened. All brawn and no brain. No wonder this will be so easy. You cannot say that you were not warned. Followed tauntingly by, You will not be marrying Felicity. You may even find yourself not wanting to!
And then he'd suddenly gone frightfully cold from scalp to toe, sitting there staring out into empty space.
The bar-keep scratched his chin. "Come to think of it, that Mr. Gooch and your Mr. Pratt friend were sittin' at this very table when Miss Felicity came in. She already looked troubled before she met the big fella!"
Ben's brown eyes bored into the grey ones of the bar-keep. "Quick, Mr. Lewis-tell me, does this Gooch-person work for Reginald Forsythe?"
"Don't know, Ben. He just showed up one day, wantin' to drink alot. Wouldn't surprise me if he did! Can't imagine why he'd be so interested in your lass and Mr. Pratt, of all people!" Someone seated closer to the tavern's door was calling him for attention, so Mr. Lewis turned to leave. "Glad to see you, Ben. Hope Miss Felicity is well and rid of that curious rouge!"
Ben was staring at the table-top with such a ferocious look that the bar-keep kept glancing back over his shoulder at him with concern. Ben's hand was on the tankard, but the young cavalry captain had not lifted it to drink. Then suddenly Ben was up on his feet, striding over to Mr. Lewis, pulled the man away from the table of four waiting men, and breathed rapidly, "Mr. Lewis, did this Gooch-person, by any chance, do anything to Arthur Pratt's and Felicity's drinks? Did you see him do anything at all that might have affected what they drank?"
Mr. Lewis looked contamplative, considering. Then slowly, uncertainly, he replied, "No...but my eye wasn't on him all the time. I had other customers waiting on refills, and of course I turned my back. If he'd wanted to add any 'cannon-kick' to their mugs without me seein' it, then he had plenty of opportunity, Ben. Sure would explain the way they looked as they was leavin' the building!"
"Like how?"
"Pratt was lookin' like he was sleep-walkin', and Miss Felicity looked like she could hardly hold her head up. I was worried about the both of 'em gettin' home, seein' as how they were both mighty wobbly. And then that Mr. Gooch gets up and leaves like he was in a big hurry all of a sudden." He studied Ben's unreadable face with a touch of curiosity. "You know, that Arthur Pratt usually comes in of an evening to get a hot toddy and a piece of mince-meat...he never does order anything heavy. Not even last night. There wasn't enough rum in my nog to tipsy a skunk! But why would a rough-neck like that Gooch want to cause trouble for those two young folks? He aint their kind of company!"
Ben's mind was reeling so hard that he slapped one hand to his forehead and the other grasped Mr. Lewis's arm to steady himself. "Oh my God," he moaned ominously. "Oh my God, Lissie!"
"What's the matter, Ben? Do you need to fetch a constable?"
Ben was already striding out of the nearest door. "N-No, I don't know, I -I just have to find Felicity!" And he was gone without ever having touched a drop of his ale.
As he broke into a run, his mind spun faster than it ever had as a soldier. His hip began to hurt, reminding him that he was still not completely healed of getting shot, but he forced himself on, for it was quite possible Felicity had been telling the truth. He heard Elizabeth's wretchedly sobbing voice in his head: "And they were both undressed, just getting out of the bed!"
Because of the shock, he had not asked Elizabeth any questions at all about what she did indeed see. He had just reacted like he was still in the Legion, trained to attack and ask questions later, if there were any survivors. He had seen Elizabeth's face in devestation, heard the girl's cries and been struck by her agony-how could Elizabeth have been mistaken?
It was possible...wasn't it?
Elizabeth's plight was conflicting with all that he had just learned from Mr. Lewis, who Ben had known for yonks, and who had always been friendly, trustworthy, observant of his customesrs, like a bar-keep needed to be in order to stop trouble fights before they started. He could spot a Loyalist a mile off! He had no reason to lie, either. If Lewis said a strange man was behaving suspiciously with Felicity and Arthur, how could he be mistaken as well?
Rather than give in to all the terrible, nasty, most destructive thoughts he'd ever had in his life, he wanted to get to the bottom of this whole fiasco. He decided to question both Felicity and Elizabeth...and Arthur Pratt, wherever the hell he was. Find this odd Mr. Gooch and question him, too. He really should not have passed judgement without knowing all of the facts first. Felicity did look so bizarrely sick. A mug of rum-nog would not have that kind of effect on a person like that. He himself had become well acquainted with various liquors whilst drinking with his fellow cavalrymen to know how much it took to get piss-drunk.
Sometimes a person really could not trust their eyes!
When he had returned to the back of Merriman's Store, Felicity was gone. But at first Ben Davidson had not thought to panic, figuring she had just run home or to Elizabeth's house, even. But then he saw the signal whistle on the ground, the strong leather cord broken...the large footprints all around the place where she had been kneeling.
And then he knew.
So there he was, standing and staring intensely at the signal whistle in his hand, feeling the chills of horror and fear scramble all up and down his spine. Feeling as though God Himself had socked him in the gut with His Almighty Fist.
Before Ben Davidson could make another move or draw another breath, Caleb Haverty came panting in a jog from the other side of the building. The older man was obviously out of shape and had forced himself to hurry. His rounded cheeks were very red. When he saw Ben standing there as if frozen, he slowed, bent over with his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. "Sorry I'm late, boy-" wheeze "-Stopped by the Merriman house to check in-" gasp "-Merriman's trying to stand up, says he wants you home right this minute-" wheeze "-Lil' Nan says she saw Felicity, and that the girl was desperate-crazy to find you-"
"I know!" Ben strode forward and grasped the man's shoulder in near-panic. "He has her, Mr. Haverty!"
"Huh?"
He held up the signal whistle urgently as Haverty stood up straight to look. "He has her!"
"Who, the doodle-dandy? Forsythe?" Of course Caleb Haverty would know who 'he' was! And Haverty knew that Felicity Merriman would never take that beloved little whistle off of her person of her own free will. That cord would never be broken unless..."Where in hell is he?"
Ben's guts lurched with horrible dread. "I don't know! Last night Lady Templeton said she found a note from him saying that he had left for New York that very morning!"
"Awww...!" Haverty clapped a hand to his forehead and rolled his eyes. "You know that don't mean shit, boy! Not where that rat's concerned!"
"Mr. Haverty, we've got to find her, we've got to hurry! I'm afraid Elizabeth Cole and I have accused her and Arthur Pratt of something that they were not responsible for, and now it may be too late to..." To what? All sorts of horrible, nightmare scenarios were flashing thorugh his head at breakneck speed.
"Well let's not just stand here, jawin', boy, we'll have explanations a-plenty later! We'll find that little worm and Felicity first!"
"Aye!" Ben agreed breathlessly. "I'm going back out to Templeton Mannor and demand to search the place from top to bottom!"
"All right, you do that. I'll go back to the Merriman's and tell 'em all you told me, and if I stumble over a constable along the way, I'll drag 'im along with me!"
"Good!" Ben took off at once, still gripping the signal whistle in his hand. He knew he was beginning to panic, for with each step he took he was more and more convinced Felicity was telling the truth and now she was in terrible danger. Elizabeth just had to be mistaken about what she saw! Forsythe was right: he did not know what was happening until it had already happened. He wanted to be violently sick. Damned little weasel planned it all out, right down to the smallest detail. He knew how I would react...because I am a hot-head and full of myself! Oh, Lissie, if anything's happened to you I'll just die!
'Twas horrible luck Ben had at Templeton Manor when he returned. Not only was Lady Templeton even more upset to have heard from her kitchen chef (who'd been to the market) that her nephew had been spotted in town just this morning in the company of Mr. Smedley and some big burly man who was dressed like a hunter, but after much laboring, a black servant had finally broken into Forsythe's private chambers upstairs, and Lady Templeton showed Ben what she had found inside of it. A most startling momento left behind: the painting of the angel that bore a striking resemblance to Felicity Merriman.
"That painting was given to him by his governess when he was a young boy," the Lady stressed worriedly, wringing her handkerchief in her hands. "Just before she died. I'd seen it just a few times before, but until I really looked at it this morning I did not know where I had seen that face before! The resemblance is astonishing, is it not?"
Ben did not reply, for he was appalled. Shock-striken and appalled. He gaped at the painting hanging above the mantel of the room's ornate fireplace, utterly speechless. The resemblance was, indeed, the most remakable thing Ben Davidson had ever seen. 'Twas as if it were Felicity herself, crimson hair streaming, clad in brilliant robes of red and gold and looking ever so ethereal.
"They...they say the young woman in the painting is Reggie's late governess, Miss Lucille Elswick, and the man who painted the portrait was the man she was leaving to marry in London. I do not know all of the details surrounding Miss Eliswick's death, exactly, for my poor sister Prudence was extremely distraught..." Lady Templeton seemed to be struggling with her emotions or thoughts inside somewhat. The manner in which her expresion turned increasingly worrisome finally broke Ben's morbid fascination with the painting.
The lady tugged upon his closest arm, drawing him over to one of the chamber's tall windows as if wanting to speak to him in private even though they were the only two people in the room. "Captain Davidson," she began, her voice lowered and full of hesitancy, "It has not escaped my attention that my nephew has harbored an intense fascination for Miss Merriman for quite some time now. I thought perhaps it would have passed when he returned to England to see into his late father's business, but when he returned to Virginia..." She was indeed struggling, obviously getting fretful, for the absent wringing of her handkerchief intensified. "Well...you should know, Captain...Reggie ha-has never been a completely normal child..." Ben drew his breath in, trying to keep his composure, trying to prepare himself for whatever revelation the Lady was obviously working herself up for. He was damned impatient to get back to finding Felicity. If she was going to tell him that ten of England's best physicians had declared her nephew to be sick in the head, then he wasn't going to even pretend to act surprised.
"You see, he was always starved for attention as a boy;his father was nearly always away on business and his mother-my dear sister, God bless her poor soul! was either in a state of nerves of emotional distress, for as the youngest of my sisters Prudence was never in good health. But Reginald suffered from lack of decent parental regard and turned to the servants of the house for attention and his needs. Namely his governesses. They came and went like the seasons, I tell you! And they all indulged him verily, I'm afraid. They literally spoiled him. Of course his father didn't care a whit whatsoever, seeing as how this 'spoiling' kept the boy out of his father's way when he was home. But he seemed to have favored Miss Elswick more than any of the other governesses. So much so, that..." She was having difficulty again. "Captain Davidson, I am truly suspicious that he...oh, goodness-I have suspected all of these years that perhaps, maybe, he had something to do with Miss Elswick's death!"
Ben inhaled sharply. "Ma'am...why are you telling me this?"
The Lady pulled on her handkerchief distressfully. "Forgive me, Captain, but I am still trying to make sense of Reginald's erratic behavior myself! All I mean to say is, well, he has always been spoiled and demanding, and he will not take 'no' for an answer. And if he has his sights set on Miss Felicity..."
"'If'?" Ben was growing sickly impatient, shifting about uncomfortingly. "With all due respect, ma'am, I would say he is dead set on having my fiance for himself!" Again he glanced at the portrait over the mantle. His rage to get Forsythe by the neck grew and grew unlike never before. "Would you believe it if I told you that he is suspected of having Mr. Merriman shot and of concocting a scheme to get us all distracted so that he could snatch Felicity away?"
Lady Templeton gasped, clasping her hands together. "Merciful heavens! Oh Captain Davidson, that is just appalling! I do indeed believe that Reggie is capable of such malevolent deciet! Oh, I hate to think the worst of my own flesh-and-blood relation, but I cannot deny that he is capable of such maliciousness! Please, Captain Davidson, what is to be done?"
Ben had already started for the chamber's exit. "We have to find Felicity and that sonof-your nephew, and fast! Every minute they are not located is another minute Felicity is in more danger!" No thanks to me, he added in his mind, bitterly.
"Yes, I agree!" The Lady scurried after him in a blur of tiny rapid footsteps in contrast to the young captain's long strides. "I shall turn out every servant in the house to help in the search!"
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Oh I hope he does not intend to harm dear Miss Felicity! She is such a sweet, spirited little thing! I hope he is not taking her to New York!"
Ben came to a halt so fast out in the corridor that Lady Templeton nearly plowed right into him she was following along so close. He had spun, and, ettiquette be damned, gripped the aging woman's shoulders. "What?"
"T-To New York!" she stammered unsteadily, a hand flying to her heart. "I would not put it past him to try to take Miss Felicity to New York! The city is safer there for Loyalists, and for the longest time he has corresponded with someone who lives there-"
Ben's heart was up in his throat with panic. "He wants to take Felicity to New York?"
"Well, ye-yes, I-I assume that is where he intends to go. I d-don't believe he would risk taking her back to..."
Ben's brown eyes widened in absolute horror. Bristol? As in Bristol, ENGLAND? Surely not! "God only knows where he is taking her, Lady Templeton! That is why we must find them before he can take her away anywhere! Have your people search everywhere they can think of!" He whirled and started for the winding staircase, his pulse banging like a hammer on an anvil in his ears.
"Yes, yes of course!" The Lady was hard on his heels again. "Do keep me informed, Captain, and I shall do the same for you and the Merrimans! Oh dear, oh dear..."
Ben broke into a run just as soon as he was off the bottom step. Instinct was screaming at him to grab the first horse he came to and start off for the northern roads that led out of town-to make for any road that led out of town to catch Forsythe before he could get away with Felicity. The frustration of there existing only one of Ben Davidson was an insane taunting on Ben himself, for he knew there were many ways out of town in all directions, and he was simply incapable of being everywhere at once! He wanted to be the one to find Felicity, so that he could hold her and kiss her and tell her how sorry he was. Make things right between them again. He wanted to be the one to find Forsythe so that he could kill him on the spot.
He was back on Duke of Gloucester Street in a matter of minutes running the way he did, intending to stop at the Merriman house and get Penny reined without taking time to put on a saddle, and taking off for the roads north, but he saw Marcus running towards him, waving frantically to get his attention.
"Mista Ben!" he called, jogging to a halt in front of the young captain. His dark forehead was glistening with the sweat of a morning of being constantly on the run. "You just got to come home this instant! Mista Edward says not to come home without ya!"
"And I cannot go home without Felicity!" Ben told him determinedly.
"Oh please Mista Ben," panted Marcus desperately, "I'm done beat out! I caint do nuthin' useful with two o' you white folks yellin' at me!"
Under different circumstances, Ben would have grinned and relented right away, for Marcus had long since ceawsed being a slave and was now one of his most valued friends. 'Twas wrong to demand more of a man than he could give. But Felicity's life was in terrible danger and time was passing rapidly. The love of his life was slipping further and further away by the second. "Then come with me, Marcus! Help me find Felicity! Forsythe has her and I think he means to take her to New York, and then from there even to England!"
"Englan'? He wants to take Miss Lissie to Englan'?" The tall black man slapped a hand to his forehead, nearly knocking off his tricorn. "Lord above! Mista Edward's heart's gonna plum give out when he hears that!"
"We've got to find her, Marcus, before that bastard can get away!" He started out in a stride, but Marcus grabbed his arm pleadingly.
"But you just got to come home first and see Mista Edward, Ben! You got to! He knows best, you know that! He'll know what we gonna do!"
Ben clenched his teeth in manic frustration, feeling as if he was being torn in a hundred different directions all at once. "Well...I-I suppose so..."
"C'mon, Ben!" Marcus tugged on his arm urgently. "Like you say, time's a-wastin'!"
Ben could not agree more. He ran with Marcus back to the Merriman house, with a prayer in his heart that by some miracle Felicity would already be there, safe and sound, but as soon as he came through the front door, Nan came flying out of the parlor, her face fretful. Obviously, Felicity was not here. Ben's heart sank like sickened lead.
"Where is she?" Nan cried, striding right up to him at once. "Where is my sister?"
Before Ben could reply, Mr. Merriman's voice rang from the parlor: "Ben! Come in here! Hurry!"
He did, not wanting to linger even a second more under Nan's fearful gaze. A gaze he knew without looking directly at was tinged also with fury. He was already drowning in his own guilt enough as it was. He hurried past her, leaving her there at the entrance and breezing into the parlor. Amazingly, Mr. Merriman was indeed standing up on his own two feet, albeit with help from his wife and a long wooden crutch under his right arm. He was pale and weak, seemingly strained, but that familiar Merriman determination shone in his blue eyes brilliantly. He wore a clean white shirt of homespun, completely unbuttoned for easy access to his wounds, which were heavily bandaged in clean white dressings.
"Please, Edward, so sit down now, he is here," Mrs. Merriman entreatied with a waver in her voice that proved she was near to her own limit of emotional fatigue and worry. She held to her husband as tightly as she could without causing him further pain or aggravation. However, she, too, seemed to be in need of having someone hold her up.
"Dearest, I cannot lay nor sit when so much is at stake," Edward told his wife as gently as he could, seeing as how his side hurt from the musket-shots.
Ben's throat tightened.
"Here, Ben, read this," Mr. Merriman panted, removing his hand from his wife's shoulder, revealing the crinkled parchment he was tightly holding. As Ben took it, unfolded it, Mr. Merriman breathed, "Yesterday, young Henry Moon found Jiggy Nye dead in his home, sitting in a chair behind his desk with a fatal shot in his chest. After you read that, you can probably assume who shot him."
Ben gulped. He could sense this was leading up to something dreadful. Something hideous that had to do with Felicity and Forsythe. Why else would Edward Merriman be so urgent and risking his health to stand up when, by rights, he should be lying down and avoiding all manner of stresses?
"You know that Constable Wallace came by to see me in the night, not long after you and Marcus left to look for Felicity the first time? Well, he had been searching the scene around Nye's house and the room he was found in, looking for clues as to who the murderer is, and he found poor Jiggy's hand resting on top of this note that you have."
With heavy dread in his heart, Ben straightened the parchment, and with uneasiness in his voice, read aloud the hastily scribbled contents: 'Merriman, overheard Forsythe plot to trap your girl and Pratt in vile plot so as to steal F. out of town. Hired man called Gooch to kill B.D. but shot you instead. Must be stopped. Gooch wants to wed F...' It was signed shakily with just the name "Nye." Ben's breath had suspended. He felt detatched from his own body, whirling out of control in a world of horrorible realization. Felicity, without a doubt, had been telling the truth! This Gooch-person put something in her and Arthur's drink to make them insensible, and then put them in a bed together to be found so that the worst could be assumed.
And all it took was one moment's weakness to take Felicity away from him. One moment of doubt had cost him his entire life. Forsythe had won.
"As you have read, Forsythe has had this planned, and probably for a long time," Mr. Merriman breathed with exertion. "I knew the little blackard was up to something, but I had no idea..."
"I accused her," Ben murmured, feeling dangerously on the edge of despair, as they all were. "I found her at the back of the store when I went to meet Mr. Haverty at noon. And I accused her...because Elizabeth had found her and Arthur...together...and I accused her of what Elizabeth mistook for-"
"Oh, Ben, you didn't!" Mrs. Merriman half-cried woefully. "Nan said Lissie was sick and frightened of something Elizabeth thought she and Arthur had done...But you, Ben, surely you knew better!"
There were tears in her eyes, and in Ben's eyes as well. "I know, I know! Believe me, ma'am, I am more sorry than words can express! But I've got to find Felicity now and stop Forsythe from hurting her!"
"Ben," Mr. Merriman said, with that familiar, composed rationality he always managed to maintain in times of crisis, "This is not the time to stand around feeling guilty about anything. Now, from what Haverty said of what all you had told him, plus what I know from Constable Wallace, we know that Forsythe does indeed have Felicity." He inhaled, his efforts to remain conducted an obvious struggle. "We know very well he wishes to marry her, and in order to do that, he would have to remove her from town because no man of God present here would marry a pair without going through all of the formal, required steps, and he certainly would not marry a couple when one of them is unwilling. We all know that Felicity will fight him. If she can get away from him, she will as soon as she can."
"She can't sir, not if she is still sick!" Ben said, heartsick himself. Mrs. Merriman closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, struggling to remain calm.
"I know not to underestimate my daughter, Ben," reminded Mr. Merriman firmly. "If she can move, sick or not, she will fight him. Now-you may not believe it, but I feel strongly that Forsythe does not want to harm her, but marry her-"
"Forgive me, sir, but marrying her is the same as hurting her!" Ben was visibly shaking in outrage, blinking back tears.
Mr. Merriman sighed tensely. "We're not helping her any by falling apart. Now listen to me, Ben. I want you to go to Elizabeth's house and bring her back with you. Arthur Pratt will most like be there, so bring him back as well. Even if you have to drag the both of them, then do so. If Elizabeth's parents want to come too, then all the better! Just get Beth and Arthur here as soon as you can and by any means necessary."
Ben's mouth dropped open. "But sir! I need to be out looking for Felicity!"
"I know how you feel, Ben, but I need you to stay close because I cannot physically do anything at all." His gaze went past the striken former apprentice to Marcus, who was standing in the parlor doorway looking as if he already knew what was expected of him. "Marcus, my friend, will you please take Patriot and go to the Haverty house, tell Caleb all that is happening, and that if he will, I would like for him to organize a search party to check all of the roads going north out of Williamsburg as far as they are willing to go. Tell them to look for a carriage, because that is what Forsythe would use to get her and himself out of town discreetly-and anyone else associated with his vile scheme!"
"That Smedley is supposed to be with him!" Ben put in quickly. "And a burly-built hunter called Gooch!"
Martha Merriman inhaled shakily. "And take William with you, Marcus. He can ride Penny. He's explored those roads many times looking for his buried treasures."
Mr. Merriman, Marcus and Ben all looked at her in surprise. She looked at her husband, sniffed away threatening tears, and tried to sound brave. "You have said so yourself, Edward: He is quite a remarkable, resourceful boy. Let him help."
"Aye, love," agreed Edward softly, slipping his arm around her waist and drawing her as near as he could without hurting his side. "Will you, Marcus?"
"Yessuh! I'm already out th' door!" And indeed he was, calling for William as he went for the front door. Wiliam, never being far from the important conversations taking place, ran after him.
"Please, sir, can't I go, too?" Ben begged, gesturing at the doorway impatiently.
"No, Ben I've told you. I need you to get Elizabeth and Arthur and bring them here. Then I will tell you all what I have in mind. Reginald Forsythe is not the only one who can come up with a plan!"
This seemed to satisfy Ben at least a little. He nodded to his former master and spun on his heel. He dropped the crinkled piece of parchment on the coffee table, the note that was the last meaningful words of Jiggy Nye. It did not sink in to Ben that he had been the B.D. who had been the intended target according to that note. All of his energies were concentrated on getting Felicity back. He prayed that Mr. Merriman knew what he was doing, and that the older man had a good plan to get her home. He tried very hard to reassure himself of that.
Little did anyone realize the actuality of Forsythe's plan, however. He had taken the eastern road to Yorktown and boarded the ship that he had arranged to come for him from New York there. What there was left of Yorktown was still abuzz with Patriot and French soldiers, but any Loyalists wishing to leave the colonies were given the clearance to board non-military vessels to leave. And he had been given his clearance, for his fiance "who had swooned from emotional distess" needed to be on board as soon as possible so that she could rest. No one was really aware of just how anxious Reginald Forsythe was to get his chosen bride away.
A storm of guilt and desperate thoughts was raging in Ben's mind. He was going through every 'what if' and 'If only' he could think of. Every bit of his being insisted that he be out looking for Felicity on his own, but he would do as Mr. Merriman told him to do because he trusted the older man's instincts over his very own. So he found himself striding up the pebble path to the Coles' front door, where a shaken, rumpled-looking Arthur Pratt was sitting on a porch step, mussed blond head sunk in his hands.
Ben felt yet another pang of guilt slice through him. Arthur, too, was a victim. To think that the likeable, innocent young lad had been unknowingly swept up in that madman's scheme was absolutely appalling. "Arthur Pratt!" Ben called to get his attention.
"Huh?" Arthur looked up, his cheeks red where they had been pressed into his hands for so long. He saw Ben Davidson come strding up the path towards him and jumped up on his feet, suddenly full of breathless energy. "Benjamin! Felicity has found you? Did she tell you all that has happened? That she and I...that-that-"
"Yes, Arthur, I heard!" Ben glanced at the Cole house windows. "But I heard it from Elizabeth first, and she told me how she found-"
"Then you do not know the truth!" Arthur counter-interrupted, looking just as ill as Felicity had when Ben last saw her. Obviously, it was the physical effect of this tainted drink, for one of the young Brit's hands held his stomach the way Felicity had done. "Elizabeth was mistaken! If you had truly seen Felicity, then she would have explained the situation and you would not be here to thrash me!"
"Arthur, get ahold of yourself, I am not here to thrash you, all right? I did see Felicity, but I did not believe her story, and now-"
"Oh no?" Arthur gulped in surprise. "Then prepare to defend yourself, young Benjamin, for though I am violently ill, I am prepared to defend my own honor as well as that of my dear friend, for we are innocent of this evil scheme to ruin our good names!" And thus he put up his fists as if to box, although clearly he was unskilled in the arts of physical violence, and began to hop around Ben like a lunatic rabbit. "I say!" he continued as he bounced about with his fists up. "Prepare to spar!"
"Arthur, will you please quit hopping around and listen to me?"
"Nay, I shant! I am no fighter, but I have seen it done! I have seen sparring betwixt fine, fighting Irishmen of mighty clans and amazing repute!"
If the circumstances were different, Ben would have been rolling on the ground in a fit of laughter spasms. But life itself seemed to be crumbling and every moment that passed in nothingness was yet another moment wasted. When Arthur hopped in front of him, he grabbed the younger lad by the shoulders and hollored, "Arthur, stop! Felicity is missing.!"
Arthur stopped, gaped, and grabbed his stomach.
"Forsythe has her!" Ben continued desperately. "I did not believe her when she needed me to, and now he has her! Marcus and Caleb haverty are out with men looking for her now, but Mr. Merriman wants to see you and Elizabeth at once!"
Arthur seemed to lose what little color there was left in his face. He held up a finger. "One moment, please," he told Ben thickly, then turned and bent over the Cole's neatly trimmed boxwood hedges to retch uncontrollably. Ben grimaced, knowing that Felicity was just as sick as he was, wherever she was. "Good Lord, what is that muck?" Arthur murmured weakly of his own regurgitations, then swayed forward.
Ben grabbed hold of Arthur's shoulders, pulled the sickened lad up, for fear that he might topple right over the hedges like that. "Come on, Arthur, Mrs Merriman will take care of you." He glanced at the window nearest to the Cole's front door, and as he believed he had seen when he arrived, saw again Elizabeth peeping out at them through the slats of the blinds. When she saw him looking at her, she immediately shrank back. Ben sighed. It was not going to be easy to convince her that what she had seen earlier this morning was not the truth. She was convinced of the worst just as he had been. Surely Elizabeth would listen to him.
"Can you hold yourself together, Arthur, while I get Elizabeth?" Ben asked, worried that if he let go of the young Brit, he would drop to the ground like a dollop of jelly.
"I-I-I suppose so," Arthur stammered miserably, blinking deliriously. "My constitution seems to be shaken somewhat, Benjamin. Oh-oh dear!" He whirled away from Ben as fast as he could, back to the boxwood hedges and retched some more. Ben chose that opportunity to get Elizabeth to the door, seeing as how the boxwoods would keep the young Brit off of the ground until Ben could grab him back up.
"Elizabeth!" he shouted loudly and urgently, stepping up to the front door and commencing to pound the hell out of its brass dorrknocker. "Elizabeth Cole, you come to this door this instant!" When there was no reply and no sounds of motion, he hollored, "Elizabeth, it's Ben! I need to see you right NOW!"
"No!" came Elizabeth's persistent cry.
"Oh yes! What you saw earlier was not what it seemed!"
The door flew wide open and Elizabeth stood there, eyes red and puffy from crying, blond hair out of place and her lacy mobcap crooked-all from being face-down in a pillow, no doubt. "I should have known!" she spat, folding her arms tightly against herself. "Men always support one another against a woman! And you, knowing that your fiance, my former best friend-!"
"Elizabeth, be quiet and listen!" Ben interrupted hastily, as behind him Arthur had begun to cry whilst still being bent over the boxwoods. Ben clenched his teeth and yelled "Last night both Arthur and Lissie drank something that was tainted on purpose by a man working for Forsythe-some kind of poison that has made them both very sick and rendered them unconscious so that they could be put in the same bed together without their clothing so that it would look like they had betrayed us!"
"Oh ho! Do you really expect me to believe such a farce?" she yelled back hotly. "You know that Arthur and Felicity have always had a special bond between them! They just decided to act upon it last night and plead intoxication this morning! Who would have thought to look for them in the house he and I were supposed to share as husband and wife? Me-who, that is who! And to think I would never have thought to look there if-if-"
"If 'what', Elizabeth?" Ben urged frantically, stepping up on the porch to be face-to-face with her. "Did someone tell you where to find Lissie and Arthur?"
Elizabeth had unexpectedly been caught off-guard by a revelation in her own ranting. She sniffed, put a hand to her cheek. "We-Well...well, yes! I had just decided to return to the Merriman house becuase I had searched for them everywhere else I could think of, and this-this man saw me coming. I guess I must have looked a-fright, because he stopped me and asked me if I was feeling well..."
The level of panic in Ben's heart and mind soared to an all-new high. "What did the man look like, Beth? Tell me!"
"He-he was b-big and burly, with a raccoon-skin cap on his head. He was dressed in furs and fringe, like hunters wear."
"Oh my God. OH my God!" Ben moaned, slapping a hand to his eyes. "How could I have ever doubted-how could I just leave her-?" Behind him, Arthur started throwing up again. "Elizabeth, please, what did this man say to you?"
Elizabeth swallowed uncertainly. "Well, he said I looked like I just lost my best friend, and I said 'Funny you should say that, because I have! My best friend and my fiance are both missing and have been all night!' And he said, 'Well what do they look like? Maybe I have seen them,' so I described Felicity and Arthur to him, and he said 'Why, I saw a pair fitting just that description a few hours ago, going into that nice brick house someone is fixing up over there on Nicholson Street.' I knew then the house he was talking about, so I thanked him and ran off. And that is where I found Arthur and Felicity-"
"Did the man give you his name?" Ben blurted, thinking not that it matters now, 'tis obvious who the man was...
"No, of course not!" Elizabeth snapped, becoming irate again. "That is of no importance! What is, is that I did indeed see-"
"Elizabeth Cole, it was this Gooch-person Felicity was trying to tell me about, and who Mr. Lewis at the Wetherburn Tavern confirmed it was! Don't you see? This Gooch works for Reginald Forsythe, and now Forsythe has Felicity!"
"Has Felicity?" Elizabeth frowned, once more being taken off-guard. "Has her where?"
"That's just it, Beth, I don't know! I saw her a couple of hours ago, and I accused her of betraying us, left her behind Merriman's Store, and went to Wetherburn's Tavern, where Mr. Lewis told me all about what he saw happen to Felicity and Arthur last night! Look Beth, there's plenty lots to tell you, but Mr. Merriman has ordered me to bring you and Arthur back to the house, and I mean to do just that! So I can get back out and look for Lissie, before Forsythe can get her to New York!"
"New York?" Elizabeth exclaimed, confused. Ben had taken ahold of her nearest arm in his steely grip and was hauling her off of the porch before she could collect her wits. "You let go of me, Ben Davidson! I am not going anywhere with you and my decietful, former ex-"
"Oh yes you are! Even if I have to conk you insensible and flip you over my shoulder in order to do so! Come along, Arthur, you can regurgitate on the way." Since Arthur wasn't wearing a coat, Ben grabbed the bent over lad by the band of his breeches and hauled him up.
Mr. Cole had appeared in the doorway of his home, with his wife close behind. Mrs. Cole had both of her hands up to her mouth in surprise. He called after Ben, "You there! Unhand my daughter at once! She is through with Arthur Pratt as well as the Merriman girl-!"
"Oh no she isn't!" Ben called back over his shoulder, not letting Elizabeth's constant struggling and Arthur's knock-kneed wobbling slow him down in the least. "Arthur and Felicity are innocent! The proof is at Mr. Merriman's house! If you want to know the complete truth, follow me and see for yourself!"
Mr. and Mrs. Cole looked at each other and blinked in surprise. Ben Davidson was not about to slow down and wait for them, and not knowing what else to do, they hurried out the door, leaving it ajar in their haste to catch up with the fiery young cavalry captain. But 'twas not as if they had left the house unattended. There was Dolly, as well as three other Cole house-servants...and there was also Annabelle Cole herself.
She had seen and heard everything from one of her open, upstairs bedchamber windows. For a while it had only been Arthur Pratt, pleading and bawling-when he wasn't throwing up, that is- but the moment she had heard Ben's voice, she had dropped the letter from the Major Basil Crumb she had just recieved, and flown to the window to see him. Oh, he was still such a handsome sight! With his head of gorgeous brown hair, his tight black breeches, and his sinewy, well-toned physique!
Felicity Merrriman simply did not deserve him.
But now Felicity Merriman was in a heap of trouble. A cold chill unrelated to the autumn air shimmied down her spine. It had taken Ben faster than she had expected to find out the truth. Much faster. But yet...but yet no one knew all of the facts, apparently, for no one had hollered at her to come downstairs yet!
Annabelle sat down on her pretty bed with its pink rose-patterned sheets and stared at the wooden floor boards. Elizabeth had come in before noon, in ferocious tears and sobbing incoherently, just as Ben had been leaving the first time having inquired about Felicity. Annabelle had not rushed to see him, then, for she was too nervous.
Now she was really nervous!
But now Elizabeth's heart was breaking. Sweet, good-natured, sensible little Elizabeth, who used to be afraid of her big sister, who used to try and talk reason to the older sister, was now a heartbroken mess unlike anything Annabelle had ever seen. Arthur Pratt-peace-loving, kind-hearted, easily submissive Arthur-was suffering, too. For he truly did love Elizabeth dearly, more than his own life! How could anyone believe that he would commit an act of sinful disloyalty like that? No one could, unless Elizabeth had seen it for herself. And then there were the families: the Merrimans, the Pratts, Annabelle's own family... She bit her bottom lip and cringed inwardly. Had destroying the lives of three undeserving families, one of which was her very own, been worth getting revenge on one Felicity Merriman? For a jealosusy held over from adolescence?
Annabelle swallowed uneasily. She would never have Ben Davidson for herself, she understood that now, for she was about to begin life anew with the dashing Major Crumb. Which was all well and good, what she wanted...but thinking about what could have been... with Ben... And what would everyone do and say if they all knew that she had played a major part in a certain madman's plan?
Rock on, Gold Dust Woman/ Take your silver spoon and dig your grave/ Heartless challenge, pick your path and I'll pray/ Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down/ Lousy lovers, pick their prey but never cry out loud/ Cry out loud/ Did she make you cry, make you break down/ Shatter your illusions of love?/ Is it over now, do you know how, to pick up the pieces and go home?/
- lines from 'Gold Dust Woman' by Fleetwood Mac