sleeve across his nose. "The captain didn't get away, and I didn't kill him cleanly. He was still lying there, right where I'd left him, with blood from his head all over the lichen on the rock behind him. And the worst part of it was, that horse of his never did leave him, and was still standing there guarding him like some big dog, with the dead soldier still lying across the saddle right . . . right where the c-c-captain had p-p-put him. I couldn't just leave him out there to die, Amy. I just couldn't . . ."
"But how did you get him home without anyone stopping and questioning you?"
"One of our men was lying dead nearby, so I swapped the captain's red coat, gorget and hat for the other fellow's waistcoat … took him to Uncle Eb's and told him he was a friend and then went to Boston and got a boat home. Oh, Amy, what am I gonna do?"
She had pulled him to his feet. " We are going to go right on letting everyone believe the captain's a rebel," she'd said briskly, thinking, like Will, that he would probably die anyhow. "It'll be our little secret . . ."
And it had been — until now.
And now the chance for defending herself was past; with the captain awake and listening, it seemed cruel and insensitive to admit that they'd pretty much expected him to die. No. She'd take whatever punishment was coming her way, if only to spare his feelings. He'd been through enough, the poor man, still sitting on his pallet with his gaze turned toward a fire he could not see and his mind as far away as England's misty shores. Totally oblivious to everything. Totally uncaring.
Sylvanus put down the poker. "Will's guilt is punishment enough for what he's done. But Amy —" his voice turned plaintive, — "Amy, you should have known better. You should have come to me immediately. Why didn't you?"
"I'm sorry, Papa. Will begged my silence, and I — I thought that he should be the one to tell you, not me . . ."
" I thought that Will should be the one to tell you, not me ," mimicked Mildred, nastily. "If something bad comes of this, it's going to be all your fault, Amy! Papa's right, you should've known better!"
"Nitwit!"
"Imbecile!"
Tears stung Amy's eyes. She was accustomed to getting abuse from her sisters, but oh, lordy, it felt a hundred times worse to get it in front of the captain. She glanced up at Sylvanus for help, but she should have known better than to look for it there. He stood confused and uncertain, unwilling to make a move in any direction, and treating this problem as he did all others that involved the raising of his children; that is, by ignoring whatever he found unpleasant in the hopes it would go away.
But Ophelia didn't go away, and neither did Mildred. The former shot Amy a look of loathing, then crouched down before the captain. "Now, you mustn't worry, Lord Charles," she crooned, in a voice that was meant to be reassuring but, addressed as it was to a proud king's officer, came out sounding patronizing. "I know you must feel very sad and sorry for yourself right now, but we'll take care of you, and you can be certain that no harm will come to you here. Everything will be just fine."
The captain ignored her.
"Did you hear me, Lord Charles? I believe I'm talking to you."
He only stared straight ahead and blinked, the exaggerated sluggishness of the action only emphasizing the extraordinary length of his lashes, the aquamarine clarity of his eyes. He did not turn his head to look Ophelia's way, or even acknowledge that she had spoken.
This was a situation Sylvanus did know how to deal with. "Leave him alone, girls," he said gently. "The poor fellow has had a shock and needs to rest. Can you not see that?"
Ophelia shot her father an angry look. Then, sweetly addressing Lord Charles once more, she cooed, "Well then, perhaps I can get him something with a bit of laudanum in it so that he can sleep."
Mildred pushed her sister aside. "No, no,
"But how did you get him home without anyone stopping and questioning you?"
"One of our men was lying dead nearby, so I swapped the captain's red coat, gorget and hat for the other fellow's waistcoat … took him to Uncle Eb's and told him he was a friend and then went to Boston and got a boat home. Oh, Amy, what am I gonna do?"
She had pulled him to his feet. " We are going to go right on letting everyone believe the captain's a rebel," she'd said briskly, thinking, like Will, that he would probably die anyhow. "It'll be our little secret . . ."
And it had been — until now.
And now the chance for defending herself was past; with the captain awake and listening, it seemed cruel and insensitive to admit that they'd pretty much expected him to die. No. She'd take whatever punishment was coming her way, if only to spare his feelings. He'd been through enough, the poor man, still sitting on his pallet with his gaze turned toward a fire he could not see and his mind as far away as England's misty shores. Totally oblivious to everything. Totally uncaring.
Sylvanus put down the poker. "Will's guilt is punishment enough for what he's done. But Amy —" his voice turned plaintive, — "Amy, you should have known better. You should have come to me immediately. Why didn't you?"
"I'm sorry, Papa. Will begged my silence, and I — I thought that he should be the one to tell you, not me . . ."
" I thought that Will should be the one to tell you, not me ," mimicked Mildred, nastily. "If something bad comes of this, it's going to be all your fault, Amy! Papa's right, you should've known better!"
"Nitwit!"
"Imbecile!"
Tears stung Amy's eyes. She was accustomed to getting abuse from her sisters, but oh, lordy, it felt a hundred times worse to get it in front of the captain. She glanced up at Sylvanus for help, but she should have known better than to look for it there. He stood confused and uncertain, unwilling to make a move in any direction, and treating this problem as he did all others that involved the raising of his children; that is, by ignoring whatever he found unpleasant in the hopes it would go away.
But Ophelia didn't go away, and neither did Mildred. The former shot Amy a look of loathing, then crouched down before the captain. "Now, you mustn't worry, Lord Charles," she crooned, in a voice that was meant to be reassuring but, addressed as it was to a proud king's officer, came out sounding patronizing. "I know you must feel very sad and sorry for yourself right now, but we'll take care of you, and you can be certain that no harm will come to you here. Everything will be just fine."
The captain ignored her.
"Did you hear me, Lord Charles? I believe I'm talking to you."
He only stared straight ahead and blinked, the exaggerated sluggishness of the action only emphasizing the extraordinary length of his lashes, the aquamarine clarity of his eyes. He did not turn his head to look Ophelia's way, or even acknowledge that she had spoken.
This was a situation Sylvanus did know how to deal with. "Leave him alone, girls," he said gently. "The poor fellow has had a shock and needs to rest. Can you not see that?"
Ophelia shot her father an angry look. Then, sweetly addressing Lord Charles once more, she cooed, "Well then, perhaps I can get him something with a bit of laudanum in it so that he can sleep."
Mildred pushed her sister aside. "No, no,
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