Read The Courier of Caswell Hall for Free Online

through the window. As her eyelids began to droop, she propped up her chin with her hands. She would rest here for a few moments, just in case he awoke.
    No matter what happened, she wouldn’t regret what she’d done.

    A loud
bang
jolted Nathan from his sleep. His eyes flew open and he scanned the surroundings.
    There was a small fireplace to his right, bare wood walls, a basin by the window. Sitting beside him was a young woman, her eyes on the door. And there was another lady, a middle-aged woman, wearing a gray housedress and a white cap. Her breath came in heaves as she shut the door. “You must leave, Miss Lydia.”
    The woman beside him—Miss Lydia—hopped to her feet. “Are they home?”
    The woman by the door nodded. “They’re scouring the house for you.”
    His head pounding, he closed his eyes.
    Where was he?
    Until he knew whether he was in a safe place, he’d feign sleep.
    “Viney will tell them she fed me,” Lydia said.
    “She told Lady Caswell you took your soup bowl with you.”
    The younger woman groaned.
    “Elisha or I will check back on him. You must stay away from here.”
    He heard the shuffling of feet and then the shutting of the door. The room grew silent, leaving him alone in a room filled with the oddest mix of smells—chicken soup and horse manure and—he sniffed again—the faintest scent of flowers.
    Opening his eyes, he clutched his fists and then curled his toes. His left foot and calf burned, but thank God, he was still alive. He never thought he’d survive the initial impact of the water, and certainly not the temperature of it. But it was much better to die in the river than at the hands of the British.
    He shivered under the blankets. He might be forced into acts of valor for the sake of his country, but in his heart there was little courage.
    He remembered hitting the icy water off the side of the
Defiance
, but the memories after the plunge were blurry. He’d been cold, colder than he’d ever been in his life, and he’d struggled for air even as his lungs froze within him. Death seemed imminent. It was time, he’d thought, to meet his Savior.
    The next thing he remembered was a woman’s voice.
    He looked at the beveled glass on the window. Perhaps it was the same woman who had been sitting beside him moments ago.
    He tried to push himself up on his elbows, but there was no strength left within him.
    How long had he been in this room?
    His pulse raced. After taking that fall, it was a miracle he was still here. The British, he hoped, thought he had perished in the river.
    Now he must deliver his message before it was too late.

Chapter Five
    A dozen people crowded into Mrs. Hester Zeigler’s formal parlor. The narrow room was papered with a pale red-and-white-striped design from London and smelled like cinnamon and cloves. Most people stood, conversing pleasantly with one another about the weather and such, but Sarah waited for the dinner meal on the settee, her leather-bound copy of
Gulliver’s Travels
clutched in her lap. She always brought a book to these weekly meals, and this one was a particular favorite among Tories.
    While she tolerated Mrs. Zeigler’s company, she disliked these weekly Sunday gatherings immensely. Sarah suspected the woman invited her after services because she entertained notions of a future with Commodore Hammond when he returned from the West Indies.
    The late Mr. Zeigler had been a good friend of Lord Dunmore’s before the governor abandoned the palace and the town. Even as the political tide in Williamsburg shifted to support the Patriots, Mrs. Zeigler remained influential as a hostess and organizer of women. It seemed that everyone in Williamsburg, of either political persuasion, wanted to be included on the list when she held a party at her fine house. Lord Dunmore attended her gatherings when he was governor, and Governor Thomas Jefferson and his wife attended them until last year, when the colony moved the capital and the governor