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  Rachel’s knees buckled, but Frederick held her fast. She tried to form a response.

  “Furthermore,” Major Brigham continued, “your courage during the fire impressed me. Take that boldness back to the wilderness and raise loyal British subjects—”

  “Enough!” Rachel straightened and stepped out of Frederick’s embrace. “You have prattled on far too long.” She glanced at Jamie. “Shall we go?” Forcing strength into her legs, she strode toward the hallway door.

  “Sir, forgive her.” Jamie’s voice reached her. “Naturally, she’s a little overwrought.”

  “Naturally.” Sarcasm laced Brigham’s tone. “As I told you, you will have an armed guard until your ship sails, in case she tries to—”

  “She will behave, Major Brigham.” Frederick’s voice sounded like music to her traitorous heart.

  No, she would not behave. Not if she could help it.

  “Please believe me, Rachel.” Frederick stood beside Jamie, blocking the door of the ship’s cabin. “Your sister and her family are in no danger.”

  Rachel looked at Jamie, wondering what safe response she could give. Anything she said to Frederick might cast suspicion on her cousin. Like Papa, Jamie had never claimed to be a patriot, thus keeping their revolutionary activities secret. But Jamie’s brotherly smile gave her no indication of what she should say.

  “It’s true, Rachel.” Jamie nodded. “We visited with Charles. He said to tell you the stray sow in the garden has been put back in her pen.”

  Cautious relief crept into her. “That is good news. Do you know what happened to…to a certain old woman?” Rachel could not bear to think of Granny Jones being imprisoned, too.

  Jamie put a warning finger to his lips. “When we’re out to sea, I’ll tell you everything. For now, will you please stay here and not try to jump ship?” His face creased into a pleading expression.

  Rachel pursed her lips at his humorous remark. “I won’t jump ship.” But only because she could not swim.

  The two men traded a look of relief.

  “I’m going on deck,” Jamie said to Frederick. “We’ll want to sail beyond the harbor before sunset.”

  Once he left, Frederick sat behind the oak desk and toyed with a long, slender package.

  Rachel fussed with her shawl. “This is against all propriety.”

  He glanced up. “What is?”

  “Our being alone. Is there no other woman on board?”

  Frederick set aside the package. “Tsk. An oversight. How shall we amend that?”

  Despite the cold, heat filled Rachel’s cheeks. “You could jump ship.”

  Merriment lit his face. “Ah, but I promised your esteemed father that I would deliver you safely home.”

  “Nonsense. Jamie can do that.” She could not comprehend why Jamie seemed all too willing to leave her alone with Frederick.

  “Or we could secure the services of a vicar, who could marry us before we are out to sea. Then you would be safe in my care.”

  “What?” Rachel crossed her arms and glared at him. “Oh, forgive me. I forgot to tell you. I have released you from our engagement.”

  Hurt clouded his gaze, but his smile remained. “Rachel, I know of no other way to tell you this. I have come to believe the revolution is the only right and righteous course for England’s American colonies—all of them.” Fervor burned in his eyes, and he came around the desk to kneel in front of her. “Believe me, my darling. You and your father have convinced me.”

  Shivers swept down Rachel’s back, and she drew her shawl tighter around her. “You expect me to believe you? You implied all this before, yet it was a lie.”

  Frederick moved to the chair beside her and grasped her hand. “I did not intend to lie, but I know I misled you. By doing so, I failed to respect your opinions, your most cherished beliefs. But your father and I have had many talks these past months. We are convinced that the revolution will come to East Florida after all. Every man will have to decide where he will stand. I have made my decision.”

  Tears coursed down Rachel’s cheeks. “You have?” Hope burst through her grief like sunlight through the falling snow, but caution gripped her once more. “How will I know you’re telling the truth this time?”

  Frederick stared at the floor for several moments, then rose and left the cabin. Within minutes, he returned with Jamie.

  “Captain Templeton, we have often skirted this discussion, but the time has come for me to tell you that I support the patriots and their revolution. If you do not, then kindly permit Rachel and me to leave this ship…or return us to Major Brigham.”

  Rachel gasped. “No, Jamie. He does not mean it.”

  “Shh.” Frederick grasped her hand once more. “I do mean it. Captain, what say you?”

  Jamie chuckled. “I wondered how long it would take for you to tell me.”

  Frederick chortled, obviously not surprised by his response.

  “You have known?” Rachel thought she might like to smack her cousin.

  Jamie crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “Yes, since returning from England.”

  “All this time.” Frederick scratched his head. “You see, my dear, everyone except you has been reticent to expound on their opinions. You have more courage than all of us.” He glanced at Jamie. “Or perhaps just more than I.”

  Her face flamed again, this time with pleasure at his praise. “Oh, Frederick, I have missed you so much.”

  He brushed a hand across her cheek. “Will you make me the happiest of men and become my wife?”

  Sniffing back her tears, Rachel whispered, “Yes.”

  “Ahem.” Jamie shuffled his feet. “May I take my leave now?”

  Rachel shook her head. “We cannot sail until Frederick and I are married. We must go ashore and find a minister.”

  “Hmm.” Jamie scratched his chin. “I think I might have a stray parson somewhere on board.” He hastened from the cabin.

  “What?” Rachel started to follow him.

  “Wait.” Frederick gripped her hand and gently tugged her back into her chair. “You see? We came prepared.”

  She huffed out a bit of artificial indignation. “You are very sure of yourself, are you not?”

  His rueful wince contradicted her. “Not when it comes to you.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Beloved, the coming days will not be easy.”

  “But God will be with us and guide us.”

  “Yes. And I believe He will bring about a new day for all of the colonies.”

  Rachel searched his eyes. “Do you think the people of East Florida will join the revolution?”

  He shook his head. “There’s no way to know right now. We only know that each of us must do his part.”

  Jamie returned with his first mate and Rachel’s former minister.

  Rachel jumped to her feet. “Reverend Wentworth, how kind of you to come.”

  The elderly vicar gave her a gentle smile. “My dear, it gives me great joy to unite you and this young man in marriage.”

  He opened his well-worn prayer book. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation.” He glanced around the small cabin and chuckled. “Wherever two or three are gathered in His name.” He continued with the rites and led Rachel and Frederick through their marriage vows, then invited them to sign his Bible, gave them a blessing and thereafter took his leave.

  Jamie embraced Rachel and shook Frederick’s hand. “God bless you both.” He hustled the first mate from the cabin. “See you in the morning.”

  Her face burning, Rachel could not look at her new husband until he cleared his throat.

  “My dear, I have a wedding gift for you.” He retrieved the package from the desk.

  “Oh, my.” She took it in hand and tore off the paper, revealing a white lace parasol. “Why, it’s beautiful.” Her heart pounded as she began to push it open.

  “Ah, ah.” Frederick stayed her hands. “Tomorrow is
soon enough.”

  She started to reach up and kiss him. But the memory of their first such encounter held her back. “You may kiss your bride, Mr. Moberly.”

  The love shining from his eyes swept away the last of her doubts. “Why, Mrs. Moberly, I think I might just do that.”

  Chapter Thirty

  July 1776

  Bennington Plantation

  “Papa, I am exceedingly displeased with you.” Rachel spoke in soft tones and kept an eye on the drawing room doorway, lest a servant should happen by. With one hand on her well-rounded belly, she shifted in discomfort on the red brocade settee. “How can you marry Cousin Lydie without telling her of your nighttime activities on behalf of the revolution?”

  Seated in the adjacent wingback chair, Papa leaned toward Rachel with a glower. “What makes ye think I haven’t told her? Do ye think I lack the integrity to be honest with yer future stepmother?”

  “But she has never mentioned—ah!” Rachel gasped as the new life within her made his presence known with a pointed kick to her rib cage.

  Papa’s glower turned to a playful smirk, the only indication that he noticed her plight. “O’course she hasn’t mentioned it nor even given anybody a hint. As I’ve told ye before, not everybody wears their feelings on their faces.”

  Rachel did not acknowledge Papa’s comment, for Frederick often told her how much he loved her openness. Not a helpful trait if one wished to be a spy, but then God had made clear His will for her in that regard.

  To think that dear Cousin Lydie did not oppose the revolution. In the eight months of living here at the plantation, Rachel never would have guessed the old dear’s views had changed. Indeed, it was a topic Rachel and Frederick discussed only in whispers, only to each other. If the war came to East Florida, many families might find their loyalties divided.

  “Where is my bride?” Frederick’s voice echoed down the front staircase, and soon he strode into the drawing room. “Ah, there you are, my darling.” He bent over the back of the settee and kissed her cheek. “Mr. Folger, welcome.” He extended a hand to Papa, who shook it with his customary enthusiasm. “Cousin Lydie will be down in a moment.” He sat beside Rachel and flung an arm behind her across the back of the settee. “Darling, are you certain it is wise for you to take a turn around the grounds?” He glanced at her belly, then at Papa and his ears reddened. “I mean—”

  “Oh, yes.” Ignoring his chagrin, Rachel drew in a quiet breath so he would not see her discomfort. “Walking is the very best thing for me these days.”

  “And for me, as well.” Papa patted his left knee. “Disuse makes a body unusable.”

  Rachel puckered away a giggle. “Just make certain you do not forget to limp.” She still had difficulty comprehending that Papa’s claim to have broken his leg while whaling had been a ruse so that he could walk naturally in his patriot disguise. And now that his snake-bitten limb had healed, he could walk without difficulty.

  “Indeed.” Papa clicked his tongue. “Do keep reminding me, daughter. I fear these days my mind’s on other things.”

  One of those other things walked into the room, her lightly wrinkled face smoothed by a radiant glow. “Good morning, Lamech.”

  Papa stood and hurried to her—without a limp—and kissed both of her hands. “My dear Lydia, how beautiful you are this fine day.”

  Rachel traded a look with Frederick. They had discussed how Papa’s speech improved in Cousin Lydie’s presence, as did his manners, and his changes amused them both.

  “Shall we go?” Cousin Lydie grasped Papa’s hand and led him from the room.

  Frederick helped Rachel rise from the settee. She placed a hand on her aching lower back and was grateful for the loving sympathy emanating from her husband’s eyes.

  Little Caddy opened the front door for the party, and Frederick rewarded her with a confection. Rachel touched the child’s shoulder as she passed by.

  As she descended the front steps, with Frederick’s hand cupped under her elbow, she surveyed the distant indigo fields where most of the plantation’s two hundred slaves bent over the tender green plants. Rachel prayed that when the British were driven from these shores, freedom would come for these slaves as well as for the white colonists.

  “You are frowning, my love.” Frederick kept a supporting hand under her arm. “Are you in pain?”

  She gave him a little smile. “No more than usual.”

  “But you are not happy, are you?” He bent and kissed her forehead.

  Rachel leaned against him. “I am happy with you, my darling. But—” She looked toward the fields again. “If East Florida joins the other colonies in their fight to dissolve its ties with England, what will become of these people when the revolution succeeds?”

  When Frederick gazed down into his beloved’s dark brown eyes, the love that welled up in his heart felt almost painful. How he longed to grant her every wish, even going so far as to free the slaves. Yet until Father responded to Frederick’s news, it would be madness to make such a drastic move as to set the slaves free.

  “Perhaps we will have our answer when Jamie returns from London.” Frederick expected it to take a long time to straighten out the lies Oliver had told Father. If Father would listen to reason about that tangled matter, perhaps he would look favorably on other matters.

  Frederick had spent much time on his knees imploring the Almighty that his marriage to Rachel might find favor in Father’s eyes. Whether or not the earl forgave him for following his heart, Frederick would never regret doing so. Further, he had proven to himself that he could work with his hands, that he could manage money without wasting it, and that he could be a loving husband. If Father banished him from the plantation, Frederick and Rachel would be able to face whatever challenges life might bring them. What more should a parent ask of his child than that he might be self-determined and capable? Much like the colonies who strove for freedom from their mother country, England.

  Frederick had written all his thoughts in a diary to keep until the day when his son—or daughter—found someone to love. Simply reading his own words on the page deepened his convictions.

  “Would it not be wonderful if Jamie brought Lady Marianne back with him?” Rachel gave him a playful grin. “Married to her, of course.”

  “Of course.” Frederick tweaked her pretty little nose. “But have you no mercy? My father may be a tyrant, but Mother should not be bereft of both of her children.” He would await their child’s birth before telling her of his letter to Marianne. He wrote that his sister must accept with grace Captain Templeton’s decision to break with her. One day, both she and Rachel would understand.

  “Jamie deserves to marry the woman he loves.” Rachel’s eyes twinkled. “As you did.”

  Frederick observed that Mr. Folger, whom he had not found courage to call Father, had found a wrought-iron bench under a spreading oak tree. There he sat with dear Cousin Lydie, both of them clearly besotted with love, if one could judge by the tender expressions passing between them. Frederick leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Rachel’s lips.

  “Will you always have the last word, my little rebel?”

  “Why, Mr. Moberly, I certainly do hope so.”

  And Frederick found that admission not at all discouraging.

  Dear Reader,

  As strange as it may seem, I never expected to write about Florida, even though it has been my home state these past thirty years. But when my fellow author Kristy Dykes (1951–2008) suggested that I write a historical novel about Florida, the setting just seemed right. Digging into my state’s history has been a great joy for me.

  One thing I never knew before was that England owned more than thirteen colonies in the part of North America that became the United States of America. What fun to discover that while the patriots in those thirteen colonies were struggling to form an independent nation, two other English colonies called East Florida and West Florida had the potential of becoming the fourteenth and fifteenth s
tates. Such was not to be, however. Instead, loyalists fled to East Florida to escape the American Revolution and held the line against patriots who tried to breach their defenses.

  Another interesting fact has to do with my fictional setting of St. Johns Settlement. I chose the site because it was near an old French fort on the St. Johns River. Imagine my surprise when I interviewed Fort Caroline Park guide Bill Johnson and he informed me that there actually had been a burgeoning English village named St. Johns Towne on the very spot I had chosen. What fun to have the fictional meet up with reality!

  That you for choosing Love Thine Enemy, the first book in my Florida series. If you enjoyed Rachel and Frederick’s love story, look for the romance of Rachel’s cousin, Captain Jamie Templeton, and Frederick’s sister, Lady Marianne Moberly, coming soon from Love Inspired Historical. In both stories, I hope to inspire my readers to always seek God’s guidance, especially when making the decision of whom they will marry.

  I love to hear from readers, so if you have a comment about Love Thine Enemy, please contact me through my Web site, www.Louisemgouge.com.

  Blessings,

  Louise M. Gouge

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  As the story begins, Rachel is angry because her father has brought her to Florida when she would rather be back home in Boston helping to fight the revolution. How does that affect her thinking and her manners toward the young Englishmen? As a Christian, is she justified in her thoughts and behavior?

  Frederick is a trusting person until he is betrayed by his boyhood friend. What caused Corwin to “bite the hand that feeds him”? What effect does this have on Frederick, and how does it help him finally stand up to Corwin? How does this help him decide to stand up to his father regarding his love for Rachel?

  According to the customs of the day, it was shocking and inappropriate for a man to kiss a young lady before their engagement. Considering their respective levels of society, why does this denote particular disrespect on Frederick’s part toward Rachel? How might their relationship have progressed differently if Rachel had welcomed the kiss?