He chuckled to himself, allowing his spine to stretch to its fullest. Never could he have guessed such good fortune would smile upon him. Garnering information from an unsuspecting idiot? This time his laugh escaped into the air. The patriot tavern would be “the place for him” and before too long, Donaldson would be his as well.
~~~
William had been reluctant to leave Anna at the Watson’s, but her smile, the one that showed the depth of her heart, imprinted on his mind and allowed him the strength to leave. Kitty had been there and insisted on tending Anna’s wound while the new baby and mother slept. He’d promised to return within the hour—had even kissed her on the cheek in front of Kitty. He ground his teeth to bite off a growl. Fool. Not that it shouldn’t be done, but every touch, every allowance of feeling drew him ever closer to the edge of that infinite pit from which, if he fell, he could never escape.
His muscles twitched as he marched from the Watson’s toward Thomas’s print shop. So. The man Anna’s father had hired was at their heels. He scowled. He’d imagined such a thing was possible, but Sandwich was so far removed from any city or town of import, it seemed impossible. But the impossible had happened.
Staring several paces ahead as he walked, William brooded. What should he do? Take her away? It seemed the only option. Their life together was good and seemed to allow them both the anonymity they craved, but if word should spread and the man discovered her…
He lengthened his stride. The thought made the hairs on his neck stand on end. And to think she’d almost not told him?
Once in town he hurried to the shop, entered, and shut the door.
“Thomas, I must speak with you.”
Thomas turned and instantly his jaw went hard. “William. What are you doing here? Nathaniel is resting, as should you be.”
“Do you remember when I explained that Anna was running from someone?”
“Aye.”
William ground his teeth. “He is here.”
Thomas lowered his arms from their position by the galleys, a hard scowl across his brow. “How do you know this?”
“She encountered him yesterday. He was with the sheriff, claiming to be her father, but he is not.”
“Why does he want her?”
He rubbed his jaw, feeling the prickles of a morning without the blade. “I cannot say with certainty. She is a widow, that much I know. I have also learned that she was not poor, as she would wish us to believe. Though why she would have wished to keep that a secret I do not know.” He bit the inside of his cheek, combing through the crumbs of knowledge he’d collected over the past weeks. “She is from England, had a brother—a soldier, actually, but he’s dead. As for the rest, I suspect somehow she is avoiding another marriage, but that is all I can tell you.”
“She was avoiding a marriage?” A questioning look consumed Thomas’s face. “But she married you.”
“Aye. ’Tis only a suspicion, of course. But marrying me was an arrangement of her choosing and no one else’s. I believe she was to be forced into something she feared somehow, and decided she would rather be with me…” he slowed, “…than with anyone else.” His mind quieted as he reexamined their few tender moments as one might a precious jewel. The time he’d first held her against him as they hid in the bush. The moment she’d offered her ring and when she’d tried with such earnest that first morning to prepare his breakfast. And how, not thirty minutes before, she’d clung to him as if she wished he would never leave her side. His mind whirled. She had chosen him.
Thomas’s jaw shifted. “What do you plan to do?”
William let out a rough breath and pulled the solitary chair from the wall and straddled it. A sliver of teasing laced his words. “That’s why I came to speak with you. You have all the wisdom.”
Thomas’s loud billowing laugh bounced through the small room. His face crinkled as he smiled. “How I wish that were true. I have learned to be wise from the mistakes of my past.” By degrees, the muscles of his face dropped. “If I were truly wise, I would have known how to best Samuel Martin before he could do as much damage as he did.” His words trailed off and the light in his eyes vanished.
At the mention of Samuel’s name, a cloak of black memories draped William’s mind. He saw the man’s cold eyes, heard his demeaning words and felt the sting of Samuel’s hand against his face. Loathing, like foul ocean foam, floated on the current of William’s past. He too had become wiser. If only he had known just how to use that wisdom and found a way to overcome Paul’s consuming hatred. He pressed a hard laugh from his chest. Some things could never be.
He looked up, resting his elbows on the back of the chair. “Should I take her away? It seems the only option.”
Thomas came from behind the press and leaned back against it. “Where would you go?”
William shrugged. “West?”
In a swift plunge, Thomas’s forehead creased seconds before his mouth quirked sideways. “You love her.”
The statement jolted William upright. “Love her?”
A knowing smile widened Thomas’s face as he remained quiet, a considering kind of slant to his head. “’Tis nothing to be ashamed of. Do not pretend you don’t feel it.”
The scowl was instant. “I do have some feelings for her. I do care, indeed, but I would not call it love.”
“In the beginning we rarely do.” A reminiscent kind of gaze overcame him before he met William’s stare. “Be not surprised if one day you discover you have given her your heart unawares.”