Free Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon

wife Sarah waiting anxiously for their arrival. No one would suspect Mr. and Mrs. Duncan of being spies, because they looked like everyone's kindly grandparents. Perhaps that was why they had been placed in the hospital as Lavender's contacts.
    Sarah placed her arms around Lavender and led her into an empty horse stall, while Duncan and Nicodemus kept watch to make sure no one disturbed her while she dressed. "I declare, you are soaked to the skin. Here," Sarah said, handing Lavender something to dry with. "Get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death."
    Sarah was always astounded at the change that manifested when Lavender switched from the garments of the Swallow to the dark gowns she always wore as Lavender Daymond. As the Swallow, she was assured, confident, and bold. But as Lavender, she became unobtrusive and somehow withdrawn. Gone was the sparkle to her eyes, and she appeared almost plain when she covered her golden hair with the stiff white cap and put on her spectacles.
    In spite of the warmth of the day, Lavender felt chilled to the bone. "Have Forbes rub the horses down, since they were out in the rain for a long time."
    "I will tell him," Sarah said, hooking Lavender's gown up the back. "Was your mission successful?"
    Lavender placed the documents in the older woman's hand. "Yes. You must see that this gets to Brainard Thruston as soon as possible."
    Sarah clung to the document as if it were something very precious. "Is this really the Declaration of Independence?"
    "Yes, one of the original copies." She pushed her feet into her shoes and buckled them. "I would also like you to tell Brainard that I want him to check on someone for me. The man's name is Julian West, and he claims to be from Georgia, but somehow I don't believe he is." Sarah nodded. "I will pass on your message." As Lavender twisted her wet hair into a knot and secured it to the back of her head, she told Sarah about the afternoon adventure. Then, handing her sodden clothing to Sarah, she moved to the front of the stable. "I must hurry home because the stage should be arriving within an hour. I want to be at the house to receive Mr. West when he arrives."
     
    Lavender carried her aunt's tray up the stairs and quietly opened the bedroom door to find Amelia Daymond sitting up in bed, working on her mending. Amelia was not a handsome woman. She was big-boned, with heavy brows and deep-set eyes. Very few times had Lavender seen her aunt's face softened by a smile, and never had she heard her aunt laugh aloud.
    "Don't dawdle, child," Amelia said in an irritated voice. "Come on and show me what you have on that tray."
    "I brought you something to drink, Aunt Amelia. I know how much you miss your afternoon tea, so I had Mrs. Spencer blend several herbs and spices for a most pleasing drink."
    Amelia watched her niece place the tray across her lap. "1 am not a fool, Lavender, there can be no substitute for tea."
    "If you could just taste it," Lavender urged, breathing in the pleasant clove-flavored aroma, "you might be pleasantly surprised."
    "Have you tasted it?"
    "Indeed I have."
    "And?"
    "I found it very pleasing, but you must try it for yourself and draw your own conclusions," Lavender said encouragingly.
    Amelia lifted the steaming aromatic cup to her lips and took a reluctant sip. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she placed the cup on the tray so forcefully it splashed over the side. "Take this away at once, and in the future kindly refrain from trying your concoctions on me."
    Lavender picked up the tray and crossed the floor, feeling dejected. She tried so hard to please her aunt, and yet nothing she did seemed to work. Pausing at the door, she turned. "I will bring your dinner later, Aunt Amelia. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"
    "No, nothing. Did the post come today?"
    "Yes, there was just an invitation to a dance at the Eldridges' next month."
    "I suppose you will return it with your regrets?"
    "Yes, I will."