“All four help relieve the sheer drudgery of being here.”
“I don’t suppose,” Mae dared, “that you’ve become any less a Loyalist and more a Patriot given the company you’re keeping.”
“Ha!” Coralie reached for a berry tart and took a bite, spilling crumbs onto her bodice. “All I’ll say is that these Continental soldiers help me bide my time till I can safely see Jersey.”
“If troops are ordered south, you could return in the same way you arrived here, accompanied by the army.”
“We’ve had quite a comedown since Chatham.” Coralie’s eyes roamed the rough-cut walls with distaste. “No better than slatterns.”
“’Tis only temporary, remember. Once this is over, we’ll go home.”
“Home will never be the same.” She took a second tart. “I never thought I’d miss Mrs. Hurst, but...”
Mae laughed. Coralie and their housekeeper had never seen eye to eye. “I wrote Mrs. Hurst a letter, then remembered shedoesn’t know her letters. Hanna and Aaron will read it to her, I suppose.”
“I haven’t written anyone.” Coralie looked back at Mae. “What’s there to write about? ‘Dear whomever, I washed fifteen bushels of breeches and hung them out to dry, then mended one too many officers’ shirts.’”
“’Tis not easy being a laundress when you’ve not done that before.”
“I’d thought to be far from here by now—in New York City with Eben or his family.” She looked down at her lye-battered hands. “I’m glad they can’t witnessthis.”
“We all have a part to play in this war, no matter what side we’re on.”
“You’ve always been sunny, Sister, making the best of the moment. Would that I were more like you.”
“Sunny? Not always. But lately I’ve prayed to be the person the Almighty wants me to be. Let challenging circumstances change me for the better.”
“Noble of you.” Her voice held a brittleness that set Mae on edge. “I’m simply the belle of Chatham’s younger sister and always will be.”
“I’m sorry if you feel you’ve lived in my shadow. I never wanted that to happen.”
“You’re not to blame. You can’t help your appearance, though I do wonder why God makes so many of us plain when He could just as easily make us pretty.”
“Probably because man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart, as Scripture says.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence that weighted Mae sorely. Would they never be friends, only contentious sisters? How she longed to share that she was expecting, that Coralie was to be an aunt three times over. But her sister would resent that too.
“I should go.” Coralie finished her tart and tea. “I don’t want your husband returning and finding me here.”
“Whyever not?”
“He’s never cared for me, nor I him. Do you deny it?”
“He’s never spoken an ill word about you.”
“Yet I’ve shunned him ever since he appeared in Chatham. I’ll grudgingly admit, however, he’s an able commander and has the respect of a great many men.” She stood, staring down at her soiled apron. “Back to the river. The head laundress is a termagant about work.”
“Not before I give you some salve Joanna made that Jon brought by recently.” Mae went to a cupboard and retrieved a small ceramic pot. “Rub this on your hands nightly, especially when they feel chafed.”
To her surprise, Coralie took it and embraced her. Rarely did her sister show affection. Their stoic, studious father had been the same. Murmuring her thanks, Coralie bade her goodbye and went out, and Mae watched her sister’s tall, spare figure cross the parade ground to the sally port. She suddenly realized Coralie had some of Aunt Verity’s vim and vinegar.
Would her sister ever be settled? Settled in spirit and in a home of her own? She didn’t ponder it long before a familiar tread sounded on the wooden floorboards outside their quarters, and she opened the door she’d just shut.
Rhys appeared, hat in hand. His clothes were begrimed—his indigo coat more dusty brown than blue—and his half beard turned him more handsome. She melted into a puddle where she stood. When he caught her up in his arms and swung her around she forgot everything else, even the brokenness with Coralie.
forty-one
I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors.
