“Why? Because I speak my mind?”
Twimball glanced between them, a glint in his dark eyes and a smirk on his thin lips. “She seems refined enough for me.”
Father ignored the remark, sipping his tea. “I trust you slept well, my dear.”
“Very well, thank you. I cannot tell you how I longed for my bed while away.”
“You do not like London, Miss Longfellow?” Lieutenant Twimball asked. “Don’t tell me you’re a Whig.”
“I am a devout Loyalist. As for London, the streets were crowded with filth of every kind. I am beyond grateful to be home on South Carolina’s green hills.”
Father reached for her hand. “My good daughter. I know you to be a loyal Tory, especially after being presented in court.” He wagged his finger at Twimball. “We will not abide treason at Slathersby Hill.”
“If you ask me, politics are the root of all evil,” Esther said, her stomach rumbling as Isaac set a cup of steaming hot tea and a warm biscuit in front of her. The sugary sweetness of the golden-brown liquid and the heady scent of Sassy’s biscuit and butter brought all her memories to the fore. “King George claims to be a man of prayer. Then pray to God he listens to the Almighty and ends this war.”
Father leaned toward Twimball. “This is why women do not have the vote. They care not for debate and the hard lines a man must draw for his principles.”
“If we had the vote, there would be no war.” Esther motioned to the bundle of letters stacked in the center of the table. “I see you’ve opened your package from Lord Whatham. Is he pleased with your accounts?”
“H-he’s pleased, yes.” Father reached for a letter, a gray hue on his countenance. “Your mother writes you were the hit of both London seasons.” Father narrowed his gaze at Esther. Were she a child, she’d fear what may come next. “She tells me you booked passage home without her permission. She’d rather hoped you’d remain with her and entertain the affections of Lord Berksham.”
“Lord Berksham is a fine man. But not for me. Nor is London. Besides, Slathersby is my home. Not Grosvenor Square. I’ve done my duty, haven’t I?”
“Tell me,” Twimball said. “Where does your mother reside? Not here with you?”
“My wife prefers London, her family, and friends. Her father, the Earl of Trent, has quite a good position with the king, and such honors please her more than I do.” Father took up another letter, his confession void of any emotion or care. “Twimball, you were speaking of recruiting men of Ninety Six for His Majesty’s army.”
Esther had long since determined her parents no longer loved each other. Which fed her desire for true love all the more. She would not be like them, marrying for money and position only to drift apart, maintaining a relationship through correspondence.
“It begins today. Every able-bodied South Carolinian should do his duty and enlist for the Crown.”
Esther spread a thick layer of jam on her biscuit. “What of those who side with the Declaration? With the Continental Congress?”
“Then they are traitors and will die a traitor’s death.” The lieutenant hammered the table. “We must end this rebellion.” The words rang hollow, with much bravado, in Esther’s ears.
“If the king wants to maintain his authority,” she said, more to be obstinate than right, “he should allow the colonies their own representation. Hear their complaints.”
Father leaned toward her, large and brooding. “Guard your careless words, daughter, lest the lieutenant here misunderstand your mischievous tongue and report that Slathersby Hill sides with the rebels. We’ll find our barns and home burned, and you will find yourself on a voyage to London whether you like it or not.” He sat back with a conciliatory smile. “I’ve just promised the captain my support in enlisting men for the king’s cause.”
Twimball cut a large bite of fried ham. “You raised a spunky lass, Sir Michael. Tell me, how old were you when you arrived in South Carolina?”
“Ten. My mother did not want me underfoot.”
“She seems to enjoy your company now,” Father said.
“Perhaps.” But she was too late. Esther preferred South Carolina,her father, and Hamilton. “Lieutenant, how do you plan to recruit for His Majesty?”
“By speaking the truth. We are the grandest army in the world. So, did your mama send you across the Atlantic alone?”
My but wasn’t he nosey? “Yes. My governess was to accompany me, but she ran off with her young man the night before. So I walked onto the ship alone, bold as you please.” She’d been too young and too stubborn to realize the hazards of such a voyage.
“Your first trip? Alone? Surely someone in command took charge of you.”
“I told them my mother was ill from the sea and hovering in her bed.” The trip had been plagued with storm after storm. The high-pitched shrill of the wind and the crash of the waves against the bow visited her dreams still. “Father, shall we host a party now that I’m home? Invite the town?”
“What a splendid idea.” He reached for another letter. “Lieutenant, you can recruit from right here. Set up Slathersby as your headquarters. We’ll invite the town for a feast. Every able-bodied man will be in attendance.”
“Father, we are celebrating my return, not the duties of Lieutenant Twimball. Sorry, sir, but you will have to do your enlisting elsewhere.”
