The Heavens Shall Fall (9 page)

She had not moved back into her old home as the
major wanted. She had no wish to be that sort of mistress. She insisted that her husband not be embarrassed. Major Andre honored her request, though most suspected their arrangement.

Susanna was aware that it was only a matter of time before his passion for her waned…or another situation bettered him. She was not obtuse, but neither would she waste the opportunity. Already, she
had gathered that something major was on the horizon. More than the Southern Campaign that was already being waged. But what she didn’t yet know.

Major Andre was set to leave shortly
, as well as the majority of the British army. She had heard it was for the South, but not from Andre himself. He told her nothing of the affairs of the British army and she didn’t ask.

But she had her ways. While Andre was gone, she intended on using them to her full advantage.

The Southern Campaign

These are the times that try men’s souls.~ Thomas Paine

Marcus was awash with sweat. He had found the heat and humidity of the South to be most intolerable. He swore he had lost more men to sickness than to battle. It seemed a constant battle with the fever, worse than those irritating militia attacks by the Swamp Fox.

Since his arrival ten months ago, the British tactics had seemed to be most effective. Savannah had fallen without much resistance. Slow and steady. Whereas in the North the army holed up for the winter, the best course of action here in the South was to take Savannah in the cooler weather.

Marcus had worked endlessly alongside General Pr
évost toward the best course of attack. He disregarded his rank; Marcus once more infiltrated enemy lines. General Prévost cautioned Marcus, but agreed that the need for information outweighed his protest that Marcus conduct the operation from afar.

Despite the danger, Marcus reveled in the action.
He donned his buckskins and penetrated into the heart of the enemy. He had been fortunate. His man, Captain Thomas Elliot, was back by his side, along with a new man, Lieutenant Robert Leckie.

Under the guise of Virginians, the three took to the countryside and a dangerous countryside it was. Unlike Virginia, Marcus felt a certain detachment from the people, not the strong conviction of the Loyalists that was promised.

To gain the Loyalists’ support, Marcus saw the need for a show of strength. The Loyalists needed confidence that the British once more had a foothold in the South.

Marcus had learned long ago to study the people. He had not forgotten the lesson. The people in the backcountry had much to be concerned about besides the British
: Indian raids, rampant fevers, even their own raiders from both sides.

There again, he didn
’t feel a strong attachment from the Patriots to liberty and freedom, either. These Southerners had their own code, a different code than their Northerner counterparts. Here, there were different challenges. Most of all, this damnable, oppressive heat!

Marcus had not been there for the battle, but from all accounts the battle for Savannah had been quick and decisive. Campbell
, with three thousand troops from New York, landed at Giradeau’s Plantation a little more than two miles from Savannah. By nightfall, Savannah was in British hands. It was said that the Patriots ran from the battle with hardly raising a defense…so decisive the victory, Campbell lost only seven men.

Marcus arrived with General Pr
évost in early January, their work far from done. Campbell had done his job, but the years as a prisoner of war had worn on him. He left in July for England, with Savannah firmly in British control.

Now, though, rumors abounded that the Patriots were mounting an assault on Savannah in an attempt to retake the city.
The worrisome news suggested a French fleet had docked in the Charles Town harbor.

Marcus had already diverted a crisis for General Clinton
as he handled a situation that held more political implications than military. Clinton had sent one of his men into the backcountry, a Major Jake Pennington, along with Leckie, on a covert mission.

Granted
, Pennington knew the countryside as he had been assigned to Charles Town before the war, but it had been the manner Clinton had done so. The long, complicated story hadn’t the ending Clinton desired.

Pennington was doing penance for rescuing his wife against orders
, when she was trapped behind enemy lines. Not that Marcus denied the man disobeyed orders, but in Marcus’ opinion, it would have been best served to have let the man resign his commission.

Clinton never comprehended the political overture. Pennington had connections…high connections. His wife
’s first husband had been the Marquess of Tinley; her father-in-law, the Duke of Eversleigh; Pennington’s stepson, heir of to a dukedom.

Moreover, Pennington was a highly popular officer. The men would ha
ve followed him into hell if he ordered…and they had, when a group of British’s finest rescued Lady Pennington.

Marcus had turned a blind eye to the attempt, but it couldn
’t be ignored on the return. Marcus had been set to accept Pennington’s resignation, but Clinton’s orders arrived and stated plainly that while he understood the reason, it had consequences.

Pennington volunteered to go behind the lines. Only he hadn
’t returned. Leckie returned wounded, but alive and with the needed information…the French Fleet and their attempt at a surprise attack to regain Savannah. Leckie feared Pennington had been mortally wounded.

When word came that Pennington lived, Marcus went behind lines himself to retrieve the wounded officer. Pennington
’s brother-in-law, Sumner Meador, had seen to his welfare by gaining the aid of one of the Continental physicians. Dr. Jonathan Corbett.

That information held a particular interest to Marcus. Hannah
’s brother! The last he had heard of the good doctor, Corbett had been assigned up North. He could not deny the presence of Corbett excited him, along with the possibility of discovering the whereabouts of Hannah and his child. For no matter what had been told to him, he knew in his heart that his son lived.

At the moment, his first concern was Savannah and their defense against the dreaded alliance of the Americans
with the French. But he was a patient man, and would wait for his opportunity.

It would come
, of that he was certain. He would be prepared.

* * * *

With the greatest reluctance, Dr. Jonathan Corbett swung his legs over the bed and onto the rug-covered floor. He pulled on his pants, but stood bare-chested and looked around for something suitable to wear. His clothes strewn across the floor in the heat of passion were much too formal to wear in the bright morning light. He picked up the waistcoat he had flung over the chair by the door.

The door opened quietly. Jonathan smiled. His wife eased in with a tray filled with breakfast. He watched her place it down on the table beside the bed.

Rebekah’s smile warmed him with pleasure. Not a beauty in the classical sense, to his eyes she looked incredibly lovely, especially in the morning light. Her unruly auburn hair escaped its braid and framed her finely drawn features. Her blue eyes mesmerized him, and illuminated her own joy from their encounter.

The tension of the night before had faded with the sun, replaced with an intimacy he had never experienced.

She placed her hand upon his shoulder. A sensation went through him that had nothing to do with eating the breakfast she had made for him. He wanted her…again, but it would never do. He had a meeting this morning with General Benjamin Lincoln.

“
I’m unsure how you will sneak out without being seen. It is already six. I’m afraid…”

He drew her into his arms. There was no need to tell her he didn
’t care if he was seen because his mouth was upon hers. His pulse stirred as his kiss deepened.

Their marriage would no longer be a secret, not now. Knowing this community, rumors he had stayed the night had already circulated.

When he arrived in Charles Town as the personal physician to the commander of the Southern Army, General Benjamin Lincoln, he would have never considered he would have remarried. He had been so intransigently against marriage after his first wife, Catherine, died.

Even now, his heart hardened at the thought of her. The beautiful, flamboyant Catherine. She had betrayed him…betrayed Hannah. Afterwards, he had cared for little except the cause.

That was until he had seen Rebekah. A promise had sent him to check upon her welfare. Rebekah’s father, Rodger Morse, had been a close personal friend of his father. Both Morse and his father had lost their lives in this fight for freedom against the British—a steep price for the pursuit of a new country based on the rights of its people.

Within his home in Williamsburg, the fire burn
ed deep for the cause. He had found indifference, rather than a passion, for liberty here in Charles Town. The Continental Army had been met with resistance. Jonathan had expected it from the Loyalists and British, but the opposition from the residents of Charles Town themselves had surprised him.

Jonathan readily saw that General Lincoln had his back against the wall with the threat
 bearing
 
down on the Southern army. Not only did Lincoln have to deal with the lack of supplies—including troops—the general also had to deal with the political influence demanded by the local government over his defense of their city. Governor Rutledge and statesman Christopher Gadsden laid constant demands upon Lincoln.

In the years since the first British assault against Charles Town, the port had remained open,
being essential for the economy of the Southern colony. However, the resurgence of the British had taken a toll on shipping. When Savannah was lost to the Redcoats, the city’s occupants feared that Charles Town would be next.

The city
’s leaders wanted Charles Town to be protected at all cost. Few of the men understood the larger picture, nor did they care in Jonathan’s estimation. Lincoln had the weight of the world on his shoulders—lack of support, lack of supplies, lack of reinforcements, along with a much-maligned militia.

It was rumored that General Henry Clinton had set his cap
for the South. The British eyes were now turned toward Charles Town.

Rebekah looked up at him wonderingly
. “Whatever are we going to do?”

“
I believe it’s time to announce our marriage. What do you say we tell all of Charles Town you are my wife?”

“
What of Georgie Boy? Do you…” she stuttered, questioning whether she could believe what she heard.

“
We can’t keep our marriage a secret now,” he whispered against her lips. “I doubt he will be anywhere near Charles Town. I hear the British are also looking for him. Besides, the old biddies of this town will inundate you with whispers behind your back if we do not announce it, for I find I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He kissed
her lips once more and gave no notice of the hurried footsteps that came down the hall or the door that swung open.

“
Rebekah!”

Jonathan released his wife, but swung her around in his arms to greet the unwelcome interruption.

“Katy!” Rebekah gasped, as delicate color rose in her cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“
It would seem so…” Katy’s words hung in the air.

Katy Landor, Rebekah
’s oldest and dearest friend, was so capricious. She lived in the moment, swayed by whatever emotion touched her, and cared little for the consequences.

Nor did she seem awkward at barging into an occupied bed chamber. With a vivacious smile that
caused one to look past her over-long nose and narrow eyes, she made a shooting gesture with her hand at the two and declared, “Here I am here to share my news and you have news of your own.”

“
You know well our story, Katy,” Rebekah countered. “Jonathan knows I told you that we are married, and the reason why we have not announced it. So get that look off your face.”

“
I can’t help it.” Katy’s face flushed as she glanced over at the shirtless Jonathan.

“
Then why do you not meet Rebekah downstairs in a moment?”

Jonathan stepped toward Rebekah
’s friend and motioned for her to withdraw. He forced her to step backwards until she was out in the hall and he shut the door soundly.

“
She means well. She hadn’t any idea you would have been here.” Rebekah moved to his side once more. “Ernie must have made it official. She thought he was going to last night.”

“
Ah, but I had thought that perhaps we could have…” Jonathan halted the thought, not paying attention to Rebekah’s ramblings about Katy’s affairs. His mind was upon other activities, but it would do no good, not with the unwelcome interruption. He sighed heavily. “I have a meeting and have to stop to change at your brother’s.”

“
Do you want me to send for your belongings while you are in the meeting?”

His manner eased at the thought.
“Yes, my love. I think I would like that very much.”

She edged closer.
“Would you like a room to yourself or…”

“
I want only to be with you,” he answered.

His answer seemed to please her. She leaned upward and placed her lips to his.
“Then I will make ready.”

* * * *

Theodore Landor lived in one of the largest homes on East Bay Street, a three-story house of pink masonry with an exquisite walled garden. Hand-carved scrolls crowned the front white columns over the first-floor arches, giving way to a row of French windows flanked by delicately carved black shutters where one had a breathtaking view of the harbor.

The house glowed
with a brilliance of lighted windows. Music encompassed the air; gaiety and laughter filled the rooms. One of the city’s oldest and most respected families hosted a celebration—Landor’s announcement of his youngest daughter’s, Katy’s, engagement.