Free Surrender the Night by MaryLu Tyndall Page B

leave tomorrow night. The longer he stayed, the more danger he placed on her and her family. Alex would rejoin his ship and secure his future as an honored British naval officer. No one need know what had happened with Garrick. Alex had taken the only action available to him in the defense of an innocent woman. It mattered not that she was an American. He had done the honorable thing. And if he continued doing the honorable thing on board the HMS
Undefeatable
, this war would not only bring him the prize money he needed, but the accolades he required to earn the forgiveness of his brother and respect of his father. And maybe even a welcome home.
    The clomp of horses’ hooves and the grating of carriage wheels filled the air. He glanced toward the road leading to the house. The family returned. But it wasn’t the same landau that left that morning. Alex froze. Behind the carriage, a band of horses trotted. He squinted at the sight. Men, armed with muskets and swords, some in blue-and-white uniforms, spread like a stormy wake behind the landau.
    So, Miss McGuire had alerted the authorities after all. Alex’s heart raced as his mind sped, searching a course of action. There was no way he could outrun them in his condition.

     
    Ignoring Mr. Snyder’s outstretched hand, Rose leaped from the carriage, trying to contain her fear behind a polite mask of composure.
    “By the by, Miss McGuire,” Mr. Snyder said as he assisted Amelia behind her. “You seem flustered.” His eyes gleamed as if he knew something.
    As if he knew she was about to be accused of treason.
    “Not flustered, sir.” She offered him a tight smile. “Simply tired after my long day in town and anxious to rest.”
    “Of course.” He nodded, then searched the area—no doubt for a groomsman to take his horse—before he tied the reins to a post witha huff. “Someday I shall be able to afford a coachman.” He grumbled under his breath. “And you a footman, perhaps?”
    Rose frowned. A ridiculous comment in the midst of wartime.
    Amelia brushed past Rose and entered the house, terror screaming from her eyes. The thunder of horse hooves pounded the air and shook the ground as a dozen men, both regular army and militia stormed toward them.
    Rose struggled to breathe. In the western sky, the setting sun barely grazed the tops of the trees, sending spindly bright fingers across the farm, poking and prying into every dark corner. Her gaze shot unbidden to the icehouse in the distance. The door was shut. Was Mr. Reed inside or outside? If inside, he’d never be able to leave unnoticed.
    Cora came running through the front door, wiping her hands on her apron. “What is happenin’, child? Why are these men here?”
    “Never fear, Cora.” Rose took her arm in hers and led her back inside. The spicy smell of roast rabbit and wood smoke filled her nose. Normally Rose found them to be comforting aromas, but under the circumstances, they only enhanced her fear of losing everything that was dear to her—family, home, and freedom. She faced the cook. “They are here to protect us.”
    Or arrest us as traitors
.
    The cook’s chubby cheeks quivered as her dark eyes skittered toward the door. “Then why are you shakin’, miss?”
    Rose snatched her arm back. “I’m just tired.” She glanced up the stairs, wondering where Amelia had gone. “Now please run along and finish preparing the meal. Aunt Muira and Uncle Forbes will be here shortly.”
    With a frown, Cora turned and waddled toward the kitchen, muttering something about soldiers having no business searching the farm.
    Taking a deep breath, Rose faced General Smith and Mr. Snyder as they marched through the front door. The general’s thick boots thumped over the wood, grinding Rose’s nerves to dust. He removed his bicorn and held it by his side. “Miss McGuire, we shall be no bother to you, I am sure.”
    “No trouble at all.” Rose tugged off her gloves if only to keep her hands from shaking. She