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Love Thine Enemy
Louise M. Gouge
Indulge your fantasies of delicious Regency Rakes, fierce Viking warriors and rugged Highlanders. Be swept away into a world of intense passion, lavish settings and romance that burns brightly through the centuriesThe tropics of colonial Florida are far removed from America's Revolution.Still, Rachel Folger's loyalties remain with Boston's patriots. Handsome plantation owner Frederick Moberly's faithfulness to the Crown is as certain as his admiration for Rachel–but for the sake of harmony, he'll keep his sympathies hidden. After all, the war is too far distant to truly touch them. . . isn't it?A betrayal of Rachel's trust divides the pair, leaving Frederick to question the true meaning of faith in God and in country. Inspired by Rachel to see life, liberty and love through His eyes, Frederick must harness his faith and courage to claim the woman he loves before war tears them apart.
“This is madness, you know,” Rachel said.
Frederick chuckled. “But it is a merry madness, do you not agree?”
Rachel looked down, as if trying to hide her face. “I would not have you disappoint your parents.”
How had she uncovered the core of his dilemma? Could he surrender all his former dreams to marry Rachel? “But may a man not decide his own destiny? Must he always seek his parents’ approval?”
Her brow wrinkled, as if she were considering his question. “You must count the cost, Mr. Moberly. You have more to lose than I. No doubt your father will disown you.”
“Perhaps so. But what of you? I would not have you suffer on my account.”
“I risk only my heart, as women have done since time began.”
“If your heart suffered, I would grieve being the cause of it. As a younger son, I will inherit no part of my father’s fortune. Perhaps it is time for me to earn my own.”
“Why then, sir, I believe our friendship might prosper, after all.”
LOUISE M. GOUGE
has been married to her husband, David, for forty-four years. They have four children and six grandchildren. Louise always had an active imagination, thinking up stories for her friends, classmates and family, but seldom writing them down. At a friend’s insistence, in 1984 she finally began to type up her latest idea. Before trying to find a publisher, Louise returned to college, earning a BA in English/creative writing and a master’s degree in liberal studies. She reworked the novel based on what she had learned and sold it to a major Christian publisher. Louise then worked in television marketing for a short time before becoming a college English/humanities instructor. She has had seven novels published, five of which have earned multiple awards, including the 2006 Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award. Please visit her Web site at www.louisemgouge.com.
Louise M. Gouge
Love Thine Enemy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom.
—Psalms 51:6
To Kristy Dykes (1951–2008), a godly, gifted
author who encouraged me to write about Florida,
her home state and mine. Kristy was a beautiful
Christian lady, a light in my life and in the lives of
countless others. She is greatly missed by all who
knew her.
Also, to my husband, David, who accompanied
me on my research trips and found some excellent
tidbits for this book. Thank you, my darling.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Questions For Discussion
Chapter One
St. Johns Settlement, East Florida Colony
May 1775
Through the window of her father’s store, Rachel watched the Englishmen ride their handsome steeds up the sandy street of St. Johns Settlement. Their well-cut coats and haughty bearing—as if they owned the world—made their identities unmistakable.
“Make them pass by, Lord,” she whispered, “for surely I’ll not be able to speak a Christian word to them if they come in here.” She glanced over her shoulder at Papa to see if he had heard her, but he was focusing his attention on a newly opened crate of goods.
Rachel turned back to the window. To her dismay, the two young men dismounted right in front of the store. One snapped his fingers at a small black boy and motioned for him to care for the horses.
Her dismay turned to anger. How did they know the boy could take time to do the task? Did they care that the child might be beaten by his owner if he lingered in town?
“What draws yer scrutiny, daughter?” Papa approached to look out the window. “Aha. Just as I hoped. From the cut of his clothes, that’s Mr. Moberly, no mistake. Make haste, child. Go behind the counter and set out those fine tins of snuff and the brass buckles. Oh, and the wig powder and whalebone combs. Mayhap these gentlemen have wives who long for such luxuries here in the wilderness.”
The delight in his voice brought back Rachel’s dismay, even as she hurried to obey. Until six months ago, Papa had been a man of great dignity, a respected whaler who commanded his own ship. Why should he make obeisance to these wretches? These popinjays?
When the two men entered, the jangling bells on the front door grated against her nerves, inciting anger once more. But for Papa’s sake, she would attempt to control it.
“What did I tell you, Oliver? Isn’t this superb?” The taller of the two men glanced about the room. “Look at all these wares.”
Rachel noticed the slight lift of his eyebrows when he saw her, but he turned his attention to Papa.
“Mr. Folger, I presume?”
“Aye, milord, I am he. How may I serve ye, sir?”
The young man chuckled. “First of all, I am not ‘milord.’”
“Not yet.” His companion held his nose high, as if something smelled bad. “But soon.”
The taller man shrugged. “Perhaps when the plantation proves as successful as Lord Egmount’s.” He reached out to Papa. “I’m Frederick Moberly, sir, His Majesty’s magistrate for St. Johns Settlement and manager of Bennington Plantation. This is my friend and business associate, Oliver Corwin.”
For the briefest moment, Papa seemed uncertain, but then he gripped the gentleman’s hand and shook it with enthusiasm. “How do ye, my good sirs? I’m pleased to meet ye both.”
“And I’m pleased to see your fine store ready for business.” Moberly surveyed the shelves and counters. And again his glance stopped at Rachel.
Papa cleared his throat. “My daughter, Miss Folger.”
Moberly swept off his brimmed hat and bent forward in a courtly bow, revealing black hair pulled back in a long queue. “How do you do, Miss Folger?”
She forced herself to curtsy but did not speak. The very idea, a gentleman giving a shopkeeper’s daughter such honors. No doubt the man was a flatterer. The one named Corwin made no such gesture, but his intense stare brought heat to her face. Rachel could not decide which man would require her to be more vigilant.
Moberly’s gaze lingered on her for another instant before he turned back to Papa. “Your store and the village’s other new ones are what I’ve been hoping for. If St. Johns Settlement is to succeed as a colonial outpost, we must have every convenience to offer our settlers. Tell me, Folger, do you have any concerns about your shipments? With all that nonsense going on in the northern colonies, do you expect any delay in delivery of your goods?”
“Well, sir, I had no difficulty sailing down here from Boston. I expect all those troubles to be behind us soon. The rebels simply haven’t the resources. I’ll wager wiser heads will prevail. I’m from Nantucket, ye see, and we’re loyal to the Crown.”
Corwin snorted, and Moberly glanced his way with a frown.
“Ah, yes, Nantucket.” The magistrate appeared interested. “From whence whalers set out to harvest the world’s finest lamp oil. Will you be receiving goods from there?”
“Perhaps some, sir. My own ship will sail to and from London until things are settled.”
“Good, good.” Moberly nodded. “And are you a Quaker, as I’ve heard most Nantucketers are?”
“I was reared in the Society of Friends,” Papa said. “But I don’t mind wearing a brass button or a buckle.”
“We don’t need any dissenters here.” Corwin’s eyes narrowed.
“Now, Oliver, the man said he wasn’t a zealot.” Moberly gave Papa a genial look. “Moderation in all things, would you not agree?”
“Precisely my sentiments, sir.”
Rachel inhaled deeply. She must not display her feelings. This was not Nantucket, where women spoke their minds. Nor was it Boston, where patriots—both men and women—clamored for separation from England. Until she got the lay of the land here in East Florida Colony, she must not risk harming Papa’s enterprise.
“Miss Folger.” Moberly approached the wide oak counter which she stood behind. “What do you think of our little settlement?”
She caught a glimpse of Papa’s warning look and stifled a curt reply. “I am certain it is everything King George could wish for.” She ventured a direct look and discovered his eyes to be dark gray. His tanned, clean-shaven cheeks had a youthful yet strong contour. Young, handsome, self-assured. Like the English officers who ordered the shooting of the patriots at Lexington and Concord just over a month ago.
Her reply seemed to please him, for his eyes twinkled, and Rachel’s traitorous pulse beat faster. Belay that, foolish heart. These are not your kind.
“Indeed, I do hope His Majesty approves of my work here.” A winsome expression crossed his face. “As you may know, in England, younger sons must earn their fortunes. But if we are clever and the Fates favor us, we too can gain society’s interest and perhaps even its approval.”
Rachel returned a tight smile. “In America, every man has the opportunity to earn his fortune and his place in society.” With the help of God, not fate.
He grinned. “Then I’ve come to the right place, have I not?”
The man had not comprehended her insult in the least. How she longed to tell him exactly what she thought of his King George and all greedy Englishmen.
Papa emitted a nervous cough. “Indeed ye have, my good sir. And so have we.” Again, his frown scolded her. “Now, sir, is there anything in particular we can help ye with?”
