***
Cyprian couldn’t help grinning as he marched back to the tavern, despite the throbbing pain in his jaw. Why had he not thought of this before? He laughed aloud. The way to get the patriots from questioning him further was nearly too simple. ‘Twas brilliant.
And who better than a sworn Tory just ripe from Boston?
Tomorrow, after seeing to Camilla’s morning needs, and now the needs of his lame child, he would make a trip to church, and afterward pay the good doctor a visit.
There was something very important he needed to know.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The moon drifted higher, visible through the window’s open pane. Atop the covers, Kitty stared and turned on her side, unable to sleep from the weariness in her soul. A genial breeze drifted in from the dark, begging Kitty to share her thoughts.
She sighed and tucked her hand under the pillow.
Freedom is life.
The words wandered through her mind, creating questions as they went. If freedom was so vital, why had Father never spoken of it? If what Eliza said of him was true, that his actions with the Sons of Liberty made him a brave crusader in the fight for freedom, then why had he never taught them the value of such a vital cause? How had Eliza been able to accept the idea so easily, and she herself had not?
With a groan she turned onto her back and closed her eyes, surrendering to the chorus of crickets and frogs until her mind finally relaxed into the peaceful cradle of sleep.
***
The field was calm and quiet, and the sun just beginning to rise. Shafts of light shone through the trees where insects danced in circles as if hailing the arrival of the ripe summer morn. Dew covered the grasses and the twitter of birds filled the air as they sang praises to the God who had created them.
Father came from behind and hugged Kitty around her shoulders. She gazed up at him, all worry and sorrow crumbling to dust at his nearness.
The smile in his kind eyes pulled at Kitty’s yearning and she turned, wrapping her arms full around him. She hugged him tighter, breathing in deep of the scent of sweet tobacco that always followed him.
“I’ve brought you something,” he said.
Kitty tugged away, a childlike excitement sparking at his offer. “You have?”
“Aye.” He smiled and from his jacket pocket produced a delicate white flower. He kissed her head then gently tucked it behind her ear.
Joy filled her so, it seemed to beam from her spirit and shine with the rising sun. She touched the flower with one hand and rested her other ear on his shoulder, hugging him around the waist. “Thank you, Father, I shall treasure it.”
She looked up at him and he winked. Pausing, he eased her away and rested his hands on her shoulders. “There is one thing I should like you never to forget. A truth which I hold deep within my heart and one which you should always treasure in yours.”
Staring back, she nodded, sensing the gravity his words carried. “Aye, Father.”
He gripped her hand. “Your heart’s question is answered thus. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.”
***
Kitty’s eyes shot open. The sunlight blanketing her feet as the Sabbath morning whispered her awake. She slammed her eyes shut once more, aching for the dream that had seemed so real. But the blissful sleep would not return. Reluctantly, Kitty pushed up and brushed her fingers through her hair then stopped when her gaze rested upon Nathaniel’s white flower lying peacefully on the table by her bed. Drawing in a long breath, her lips parted as the meaning behind Father’s declaration and his loving action bloomed like the very flower she cherished.
Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.
She clapped her hands over her mouth and shot to her feet, unsure whether to cry or laugh or run into the yard with her hands toward the heavens. God could not have orchestrated a more beautiful and powerful answer to the questions she’d wrestled for so many months. Nathaniel’s tender act, his gentle explanation of the value of freedom, and Father’s poignant words were no coincidence. God had meant them for her. He had meant those very things to sing together in a kind of melody only she could hear—that only her heart could interpret.
She picked up the flower and clutched it to her chest, happy tears flooding her eyes and plunking against her cheeks as a gleeful crying-laugh bubbled from her heart. Father had been a patriot! All the questions and doubts were dead, and in their place a field of white flowers. The fight for freedom was sanctioned by God. At last she could join the patriots, and the man she loved, in supporting liberty. Why had it taken her so long?
Gazing out the window, she sniffed the soft petals, praying as the terrible realities wedged through, threatening to trample the beauty she’d just savored. But I am still in bondage Lord. Show me the way out and I promise to champion your Spirit of liberty for the rest of my days.
Turning, she rushed to her armoire and flung open the doors. What would Nathaniel say when she told him what she’d learned? She giggled, imagining the way his mouth would drop open and his eyes would round. Carefully, she placed the flower on the table and pulled out her yellow, rose-covered dress.
Stopping, her face slackened and she dropped her arms to her sides. The truth ate away at her spirit, cov