Thank you, dear God, for all of it! For giving me Jacques as my father…
She felt his hands upon her breast, his fingers stroking her thigh.
Thank you for the twins…
His kiss stroked her shoulder, her abdomen. His flesh against hers was so erotic she could scarcely think, scarcely breathe.
Thank you, God, for this man…
She gave up. His touch upon her was flagrantly bold and intimate, daring, defying. A Cameron touch.
“Amanda…” he whispered her name.
She gave himself entirely over to his touch. “My love, let the tempest swirl, the rages fly, I care not! Just so long as you love me, that is all I could ever crave.”
“And that is all that I shall ever do,” he vowed.
And with himself, his warmth, his need, his love, he set forth to prove his words in every way.
Epilogue
CHRISTMAS 1783
There was a soft fall of snow upon the ground, but Amanda had seen the lone rider coming slowly down the path and she had instantly recognized the huge black horse. Knowing the animal, she was certain that the bundled rider had to be her husband.
“He’s home!” she called joyously to Danielle. She left the window and went racing past the pictures in the gallery, and then down the long curving staircase, and to the front doors. Richard and Cassidy both went to the hallway to watch her; Jacques, whittling by the fire in the parlor, just smiled.
Amanda ignored the fall of the soft light flakes that fell upon her face and gown, and she ran on. Eric saw her. He reined in on Joshua and slipped down from his mount. He patted the animal on the haunches, and Joshua trotted off on his own. He knew the way home to the stables. Just as Eric could reach home by himself now. Home. God, it had been a long war.
“Eric!”
He started running too. The distance between them shortened, and then he could see her face clearly. So chiseled and exquisite, the years had never seemed to cost her anything. Maybe her beauty had always really been in the emotion in her eyes. He could see them. Emerald, dancing, moist with tears, moist with love.
“Amanda!”
They came together. He caught her up high in his arms and twirled her around. Mist rose between as they breathed in the cold. Her hands were icy; she wore no gloves.
“It’s done, then?”
He nodded. It had really been done for some time. The fighting had gone on after that awful winter at Valley Forge, but Von Steuben’s drilling had changed the army. They had become an awesome force. And though the British had managed to take Charleston, the south had hung on through the efforts of men like Francis Marion, the renowned “Swamp Fox,” and through the talents of men like Nathanael Greene and Daniel Morgan. Finally, in ‘81, the war had returned to Virginian soil.
Benedict Arnold, Washington’s once-trusted general, had been heavily involved. Arnold had married a Tory girl named Margaret Shippen when he took command of Philadelphia. Perhaps she had been the one to turn his heart. Maybe he had been disgruntled over his military progress—several times Congress had neglected him when promoting brigadier generals to major generals. No one really knew. But in the end it was discovered that he had communicated with the British for sixteen months. In 1780 he was in command of West Point, and he planned to surrender the fort to the British general Sir Henry Clinton. His treachery was discovered when British major John Andrew was captured carrying a mesage from Arnold about the surrender.
The news had aged Washington, Eric knew. But West Point had been saved. They hadn’t caught Arnold, though. They had burst in on Peggy, and she had put on what Eric dryly considered to be one of the finest performances of the war. Clad in a frothy nightgown, she had cried and played at madness. Washington, ever the gentleman, had dealt gently with the distraught female.
Arnold had escaped to New York.
The British Major Andre, Arnold’s comrade, liked and respected by both sides, a gallant man to the very last, was hanged by the patriot forces. It was a sad occasion. And as a British officer, Arnold had entered Virginia to burn Richmond. With Phipps he went about further destruction and marched south to join forces with Cornwallis. Lafayette was sent to Richmond, and then Von Steuben was also sent to Virginia. Cornwallis arrived in Petersburg in May to take command of the British forces in Virginia. In a well-planned ambush near Jamestown Ford, Cornwallis caught General Anthony Wayne’s brigade by surprise, but the Americans rallied, fought bravely, counterattacked, and then retreated in good order. By August Cornwallis was moving to Yorktown.
It had been a frightening time for both Amanda and Eric as the British moved so close to home. But the British sidestepped Cameron Hall, coming very near, but never touching the property. Eric had ordered Amanda to leave—she had not. She had sent the twins north with Danielle, but she and Jacques had stayed, burying the silver, the plate, and, most important, the portraits in the hall. Eric had managed to arrive just in time to find her dirty-faced, tramping down the last of the soil cover over the cache they had made to the west of the house.
With Washington’s consent and approval, Eric joined his forces with the Virginia militia, Washington himself was in New York, conferring with the French general Rochambeau. They knew that the French Admiral de Grasse was in the West Indies. De Grasse offered his services, and Washington knew that if they could concentrate the sea strength with the land force, he could beat Cornwallis. By September the Americans had Yorktown under siege. Amanda had been with Eric at the end. Cornwallis, hoping to receive reinforcements from Clinton, retired to his inner fortifications, allowing the American siege equipment to bombard him.
Benjamin Franklin’s efforts had more than paid off. The French had entered the fray in 1778, and at Yorktown, Virginia, Franco-American forces stormed two of the redoubts, and new batteries were established. No one would ever forget waiting through that night! The cunning of the operations, the care, the secrecy, the darkness, the hand-to-hand combat!
On October 17 Cornwallis opened negotiations for surrender. Washington gave him two days for written proposals, but it was to be total surrender. No one had forgotten or forgiven how ignominiously the British had forced the Americans from Charleston.
Cornwallis, however, was determined not to surrender to Washington. Pretending illness, he had his second in command turn over his sword. The British and Hessians stacked their arms. Rather aptly, to the tune of the “World Turned Upside Down,” with the American flag rising in the breeze, the troops marched by in surrender. Amanda stood beside Eric as it happened, and he knew that they felt the same thing, that their hearts beat in unison.
