Coralie stared at her in disbelief. “Whyever would a woman of quality come so far in winter conditions?”
“She likely wants to make sure the general is recovering from his latest illness,” Captain Sperry said. “For a time the entirety of the Continental forces seemed to hold its breath.”
“There was even some discussion as to who would commandin his stead should the worst happen,” James added. “It won’t be General Lee, now a British prisoner.”
“Oh?” Coralie asked, spoon suspended. “Who, then?”
Captain Sperry took another slice of bread. “General Henry Knox.”
“The Boston bookseller?” she replied with a hint of disdain, spooning preserves.
“He’s just returned to Massachusetts to raise an additional battalion of artillerymen. He’s establishing an armory there.”
Mae caught Rhys silencing Sperry with a glance. The captain returned to his meal and said nothing more. Why was her sister so garrulous? Because she was gathering information to pass to Eben Gibbs? The certainty set Mae asimmer.
“So the war shall continue?” Coralie said, looking around the table.
“I’d rather talk of Mrs. Washington and the coming ball.” Mae smiled despite her ire. “I hope she’s settling in well and raising spirits.”
“The general’s foremost,” Rhys said, pouring himself cider.
“The ball is set for later this spring. Time is needed to prepare for such a function.” James seemed well-versed on matters. “Tickets are three hundred dollars in Continental currency.”
Coralie’s gasp resounded to the room’s corners. “For a poverty-stricken army? I’ve seen the rags recruits wear. They resemble beggars—”
“Only the officers and ladies will be in attendance, not the regulars,” James told her. “And General Washington has good reason to host, much of it at his own personal expense.”
Coralie shook her head in indignation as Mae said, “Gracious of him.”
Captain Sperry winked as if suspecting Coralie would shun such a function. “Of course, you’re both invited, as sisters of an officer, that is.”
Coralie’s frown deepened, but Mae took the notion to heart.To attend a function with the general and his officers—a historic moment, truly. She stole a discreet look at Rhys. Would he go?
As the men discussed the weather and more banal matters, Mae backtracked to the kitchen to serve a rich custard made with molasses, eggs, and milk, the one dessert that never failed. She’d brewed a pot of coffee and poured that into treenware cups on a tray while her sister hovered.
“I’m weary tonight.” Yawning, Coralie hung her apron from a peg. “I think I’ll retire early.”
Mae bit her tongue as she eyed the stack of unwashed dishes. “Good night, then.”
The hall clock struck nine as Mae returned to the dining room to pour more coffee and remove the empty dessert dishes. Rhys had lit a pipe, the fragrant smoke reminding her of her father’s favored Tidewater tobacco. The men continued talking in low voices that had turned quite serious in tone.
Wishing Rhys would take up her father’s fiddle like he had at first, she took up her knitting by the parlor fire but soon found herself weary. She’d still not gotten her strength back. Aaron said it might be months till she felt herself again.
Going upstairs, she saw light under Coralie’s door. Was she writing Eben again? She spoke her sister’s name, to no answer. Opening the door, she found both bed and desk empty.
Where was she?
Flummoxed, Mae had almost forgotten the seldom-used stair accessed from Coralie’s bedchamber. It led below to the hidden closet their grandparents had used when Chatham was still frontier and under attack. Had Coralie gone there?
Suspicions aroused, Mae tiptoed down the narrow steps. A single candle burned on the floor beside Coralie’s stool. She sat with her back to Mae, head near the wall. The men’s voices in the dining room were distinct—and they’d returned to discussing the war.
Mae froze, hardly breathing lest her sister suspect she was being watched. She turned slowly, her tread light upon the stair. Once inher own room she let out a pent-up breath, her stomach churning like the failed butter. Surely her sister didn’t glean anything worth passing on to Eben and his superiors.
But if she did, wasn’t it tantamount to ... spying?
Did James realize everything he said was likely to be sent north to the British in New York? He and Captain Sperry, when they’d had more than a glass or two of spirits, could be too garrulous. Rhys, never. Often they were here without their commander, discussing matters. The hidden room was the perfect place to obtain information.
Returning downstairs, Mae heard the scrape of chairs against the plank floor as the men left the dining room. Had Coralie returned to her bedchamber?
