Smuggler's Woman by Candace McCarthy

Smuggler's Woman by Candace McCarthy

Author:Candace McCarthy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: eKensington
Published: 2013-07-22T00:00:00+00:00


The reality of the war intruded on the lovers’ world all too soon afterward. Bran pulled himself from his sleeping woman’s arms and dressed quietly. Molly didn’t stir at his movements, for which Bran was thankful.

There was much to be done topside. Before he’d come down, he’d seen the deck scrubbed clean of blood and ordered the dead seamen buried on shore in the woods. If they’d been at sea, the fallen sailors would have had a sea burial. But they were too far upriver for that now. Time was of the essence. There was the powder to be transferred from the sloop to the schooner, and subsequently, supplies needed to be found and loaded for Ross Martin and the remainder of the Flying Wench’s crew.

Earlier, Bran had sent word to Josiah’s tavern for able-bodied Patriots to man the Rebel sloop, which had suffered a terrible loss at Felter’s hands. He expected to see Josiah or his brother Patrick at any moment.

He paused at the door for one last glance at the woman he loved, who lay curled up on her side sleeping peacefully. He smiled and felt a feeling akin to pleasure-pain.

Ah, Molly, if not for this war . . . His blue eyes glistened. He blinked as he turned away, and his face assumed a hard mask. Duty, he reminded himself. Honor before happiness.

It was the hour before dawn when Bran climbed the ladder. The men had already begun to bring up the powder from the Wench’s hold; several powder kegs stood on the sloop’s deck. Last night, in the calm waters of the cove, Bran had overseen the two vessels grappled together. A gangplank of sorts had been erected between the ships for loading and unloading the powder kegs.

Patrick Donovan waited for his brother near the helm. “Bran!” the younger man looked glad to see him.

The brothers shook hands. Bran’s mouth widened into a grin.

“You heard of what happened?” Bran asked, his expression darkening at the sight of the newly scrubbed, still damp, deck. It must have taken several scrubbings to get out all the blood, he thought.

Pat nodded, his gaze grave. “I brought five men. Will that do?”

“It will have to,” his brother said. “Time lengthens. Mortimer expected us days ago. And the army—”

“There was a battle at Monmouth!” Patrick burst in with a fervor that garnered Bran’s immediate attention. “The army nearly had the British dogs, and would have too if not for Lee!”

Patrick’s brown eyes glistened with disgust and anger. Disgust at General Charles Lee’s failure in battle. Anger for the escape of the British commander, Sir Henry Clinton, and his troops. Pat quickly explained the circumstances of the battle at Monmouth Courthouse, how Washington, upon learning of Clinton’s arrival in the area on the 26th of June, had planned an assault on Clinton’s army. General Washington had placed General Charles Lee in charge of the attacking force. Lee, disregarding Washington’s direct orders, chose a less aggressive stance in dealing with the Britons, clashing only mildly with Clinton’s rear elements before withdrawing in the face of British reinforcements.



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