He eyed the bread. “A fair trade in which we get the better deal.”
“How was your foray?”
“Uneventful.”
“Your one-word answers are rather unsettling, but I can’t argue with uneventful.” It was enough to stand here with him, her unassuming rebel in linen and buckskin, rifle slung across his back with a leather strap. Would he ever cease to make her heart turn over? “I’m relieved you’re back. I prayed you’d be safe—and all those within and without these walls.”
“Keep praying—and don’t venture beyond Sutler’s Row.”
“I promise. Where are you headed now?”
“To report to General Clinton.”
Bidding him goodbye, she watched him walk through the fort’s gates, her questions lingering. Had he gone scouting alone? On foot, likely. He’d been away since daybreak. Now the sun foretold four o’clock.
Once she’d delivered the bread she would return to their quarters and ready for supper, perhaps have time enough to rest and finish her letters to Aunt Verity and Hanna. For once, thinking about home failed to bring the usual pinch. Chatham seemed less like home the longer she was away from it.
thirty-two
We recognize no Sovereign but God, and no King but Jesus!
John Adams
Four o’clock. How had she forgotten Catherine Kersey’s oft postponed tea invitation?Thatset fire to Mae’s heels. In her haste she all but flung the bread at Lucy before departing again. After returning to the parade ground, she hurried into the officers’ quarters and their own small, shadowed room, wondering what to wear. Her sweaty linen garments wouldn’t do.
A quarter of an hour later left her wishing for Coralie’s help with her hair and stays. The small, cracked looking glass that had barely made it up Fort Montgomery’s hill told her that her cap was in place even if her hair wasn’t. But her dress was a pleasing lilac lustring, a nosegay of silk flowers pinned to her fichu. She even wore her wedding shoes. Wanting to contribute to the tea, she remembered the spiced comfits she’d brought from Chatham.
Just next door, Catherine Kersey answered at Mae’s first knock. “Come in. Alice isn’t here yet, but you’re right on time. And please, call me Caty.”
From somewhere in the parlor a clock chimed the hour. A small table stood between two open windows, three chairs waiting. Thelinen cloth and mismatched cups and saucers were a wee, welcome luxury in a temporary, disheveled life.
“I’ve brought sugared almonds and orange peel,” Mae said, taking the tiny tin from her pocket.
“Truly?” Caty brought her hands together in delight. “I’ve not had the like since Boston. Please, have a seat.”
Mae tried not to gawk at the Kerseys’ quarters, though this was her first time inside. She wouldn’t bemoan the fact they had two rooms to the Harlows’ one. Lace curtains adorned windows, books rested on a decorative shelf, and Caty even produced a silver teapot.
“I see you admiring my mother’s pot. She was a Boston silversmith’s daughter and this is his creation, a gift when she wed my father.”
“The floral engraving is especially beautiful.”
“I weighed the wisdom of bringing it, but a touch of civility makes being here more bearable. And Alice has promised to bring some smuggled tea.”
“Indeed, I have,” Alice said as she pushed the door open. “The blackest bohea.”
“It pairs well with the comfits Maebel brought.” Caty gestured toward the empty chair. “I hope to weather our little tea party and the heat well.”
A sudden breeze lifted a lace curtain but failed to reach farther into the room. Mae took out the fan tucked into her pocket. Alice did the same while Caty prepared the bohea.
“’Tis hard to believe August is upon us,” Alice said to Caty, fluttering her lace-edged fan harder. “When is your lying-in, by your reckoning?”
“Christmastide. Heaven only knows if we’ll be here then. I can’t imagine a winter spent in this fort, what with the blizzards New York is known for. Summer is trial enough.”
Waiting for the tea to steep, Caty launched into a litany of all she found wrong with Fort Montgomery. The privy pits smelled abominably. Well water tasted tainted. Rats had been found in astorehouse. Unruly livestock had overrun a kitchen garden while soldiers had broken into the rum supply and gotten falling-down drunk.
“But that’s not the worst of it.” Caty began pouring tea. “There’s been a terrible tragedy upriver near Fort Edward.”
Their fans stilled.
