Bethany fought the urge to sigh in relief. “No. I have never heard that name before, sir. It is not one I am likely to forget. If you leave me word on how to get word to you, I will contact you, should I meet the man.” Bethany relaxed.It was not Matthew.Besides, she reasoned, he was blind. While she hoped it was not permanent, he needed to be stronger before he left, or it would waste her efforts at saving him. And if he could not see, he needed to learn to get around sightlessly. She only knew of one person who could help her with that.Aunt Theodosia. The woman had been blind since childhood. She could help Matthew. She needed her grandmother’s help if she were to get him healed so he could leave.
“It’s just that if he died, the man’s body should have been found. Yet they found nothing,” he persisted. “The only information I had was that a woman was reported helping a soldier to safety. While the description given was vague, you seem to fit it.”
Someone had seen her. Who could it have been?She did not remember seeing anyone there. Flags of truce had signaled a time for the English to secure their dead. She and Dandie had checked and had seen no one in the area. They had been very careful. Bethany was certain, yet they had missed something. She shook her head, suddenly fearful to say another thing.
“Fine. Here is an address,” Sinclair said abruptly. “Leave word if you see or hear of him. Tom Morris always knows my whereabouts.” He shoved a brown piece of paper in her hand.
He sounded irritated even though she had been cordial to him. Bethany wondered how much of this Matthew could hear inside.
Dandie growled. Her deep guttural sound signaled she had grown tired of the man as well. The small terrier moved closer and sniffed his pants and boots before stepping back to her side.
“Thank you for your help. You should know there are deserters from battlefields,” he added before turning and heading back in the battlefield’s direction. “They will look for shelter until they are sure that their military units have withdrawn, and they are no longer in danger. Stay aware.”
Bethany gave a terse nod. Once the man disappeared, she opened the door and went into the house, closing it behind her. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she walked into her bedroom.
“Who was that?” Matthew asked. His voice was faint and raspy.
“I am sorry it took so long. He said he was a tracker. He was looking for a soldier he had been hired to find.”
“Probably a deserter. The British take that very seriously. Did he give a name?” he said, barely audibly. “I had almost two thousand men in my command. Perhaps I would know him.”
Bethany did not add that the man did not sound British. Matthew did not seem to be concerned about the man at all. “You sound tired. Let us discuss this later. For now, sleep. I will bathe the wound and change the bandages. If you feel comfortable with me doing it, I would like to clean and shave your face. I have my papa’s razor.”
“I would do anything for a shave. My batman used to shave me...” He went silent and pushed his head back down on the pillow.
The two were close, Bethany realized. It was the second time he had referred to his batman. Not a term she was overly familiar with. She surmised it was the person upon whose assistance he counted.
“Dandie, can you bring me the clean bandages?” The little dog wagged her body before turning and going to the basket by her closet. That was the funniest thing about Dandie. When she wanted to wag her tail, her entire body wagged. Bethany let out a soft giggle, watching the dog retrieve a large ball of torn muslin. She needed to make sure his wound stayed clean and dry. “I am waiting for my grandmother to return. She should be back, any day,” she said, looking over at Matthew. He was already asleep and snoring.
“’Tis just you and me, Dandie. He has fallen asleep, again. It is probably the best thing for him.” Bethany quickly cleansed the wound and felt thrilled to see the tissue was pink and no longer fusty. Very little blood had oozed. Satisfied that he had begun to heal, she put the poultice on the stitches and wrapped it up. Just like the night before, he had turned into dead weight. However, she had figured out how to slide the bandages beneath him and pull them through the other side, allowing him to sleep.
Dandie barked and stood on a chair, nosing open the curtain. Bethany walked back over and peered from the side of the curtain. No one was there. It was not unusual for her dog to hear things she could not. Deciding to watch it for a little while, she made sure she was out of direct view of the window and watched, keeping an eye on the front. If it had been dark, she might have been scared. At least she could see during the daylight. She watched for ten minutes and saw nothing. Perhaps Dandie was seeing something the wind was doing. Something moved, and she looked again. She saw Sinclair step off the dock. He had been checking by her boat.The man is determined.Luckily, she had cleaned it out after they arrived, washing all evidence of blood. He looked frustrated.
This changed her plans. They could not stay. Perhaps she should lock up the cabin and head to Aunt Theodosia’s home. Bethany felt sure she would not be followed. If he was going to snoop around here, it would be impossible for Matthew to heal. She needed to hide the uniform, too. He would have to take off the pants and boots. Only the military wore those boots—British military. He could have them back when he healed.
Bethany dug into the trunk at the end of her bed, looking for Papa’s shoes. She appreciated Grandmère would not get mad if Matthew wore her grandfather’s clothing, not for a good cause like this.
“Dandie, we must leave here for a short while. I think we should go to Aunt Theodosia’s.” She doubted anyone would follow them into the leper colony.
*
She was lying,and it frustrated him. Why would the girl lie? Edward Sinclair had trailed Colonel Longueville for hundreds of miles, finally determining that Longueville’s regiment had headed into New Orleans. He considered the Earl of Romney, the viscount’s father, a solid acquaintance and wanted to find his son.
When he reached the site of the battle, hours after the battle had ended, it had horrified him to see so many British dead. He had hunted for any information that could lead him to the colonel or his body. The only plausible information he had gained was the sighting of a young woman helping a soldier to safety. On the chance Longueville still lived, he had sought information until finally finding her.
The woman sounded uncertain and nervous, seeming to judge him with every word. Had he not been so tired, he might have done a better job with his approach. He was certain she knew something she was not telling. She had been too tentative. Harboring an enemy soldier could see her accused of treason and the man she was helping killed under General Jackson’s military rule in the area. Sinclair would never harm an innocent woman. He would be careful.
The thought occurred to him.Perhaps she did not yet know the soldier’s name.Perhaps he could not tell her. Or the man had died.That thought sent a chill to his gut. He owed his friend and would see his son home if there was any way humanly possible.
He watched her house for a few more hours. Seeing nothing change, he finally left to find something to eat. He wanted more information.
*
Something was wrong.Bethany had evaded his question. Matthew had heard some of what was asked, but Dandie’s sporadic growling had masked the low voices. He could not exactly get up and stand at the window, so he had remained still, straining to hear. The last thing he wanted was for this woman to be accused of betrayal for helping him. He thought he had heard the name Sinclair. Was that the man’s name or that of the person he was looking for? There were some men named Sinclair in his regiment, although he would not know what happened to them. He felt his pulse speed up at the thought of his men.
Matthew had rushed to judgment, something his sister, Charlotte, used to accuse him of doing frequently with her. Bethany had been right to defer more talk of the visitor, he conceded. The thought of the battle upset him. He needed his rest, or he would never regain his strength. Bethany had risked her life to save him.
A small knock at the door roused him from his thoughts. “I have given this a lot of thought, Matthew,” Bethany began. “I think we should find our way to my Aunt Theodosia’s house. My Grandmère is there, and it would be safe from prying eyes.”
