“Not a whit of it!” Henry replied, pleased.
Eric leaned forward, feeling the warmth of the fire, hearing the snap and crackle of it. “I tell you, the three of you, that you must take heed. There are more rumors about. Thomas Gage has been sent as governor of Massachusetts, and the king has ordered him to arrest Sam Adams and John Hancock.”
“They shall have to find them to arrest them, right?” Henry said. He rose and walked to the fire, tense with energy. He leaned against the mantel, then swung around to look at Eric. “God knows the future now, for none of us can read it, Lord Cameron. Yet if—”
“When,” Jefferson said softly.
“If it comes to that point, Lord Cameron, I shall hope that a man of your wit and wisdom chooses to cast his lot with us. Yet even I would have difficulty in your position. I have watched the members of our house weigh their thoughts, and it is a difficult process indeed.”
“Perhaps war will still be averted,” Eric said.
Washington, who was careful with his language, swore beneath his breath. “Every man among us has hoped that a force of arms be our last resort! And so we continue to pray. But, Eric! Think back on the war. I resigned my commission because they demoted me—for being a colonial. This has long simmered and brewed.”
“They repealed the Stamp Act and came back at us with the Townshend Acts, further restricting our freedoms. We thought of ourselves as Englishmen—but those thoughts faded as we were denied the rights of Englishmen,” Jefferson said.
“The Townshend Acts were repealed—” Eric said.
“Except for a tea tax,” Jefferson reminded him complacently.
“And they were repealed,” Henry said vehemently, “merely because Lord North discovered that it cost more to collect the taxes than they were worth!”
They all laughed, and then their laughter ceased abruptly as there was a rap upon the door. Washington quickly rose to answer it. The innkeeper stood there.
“There’s a woman here,” he said.
“A woman?”
“Lady Sterling. She is looking for Lord Cameron.”
“Cameron!” Washington swirled around, looking at Eric who was about to light his pipe. He arched his brow and shrugged. A slow, curious and rueful smile appeared on Washington’s face.
“Truly one of Virginia’s great treasures,” Jefferson said.
“The daughter of Lord Sterling,” Patrick said, his tone indicating the care one should take with such a man.
“Mmm, yes,” Eric murmured. “You see, gentlemen, I did ask Lord Sterling’s permission to court the young lady, but alas, her heart lay elsewhere and she rather adamantly turned me down.”
“But she is here now. A young lady in a tavern—her reputation shall be forever tarnished!” Washington mused.
“Alone?” Eric asked the innkeeper. “Surely not!” He flashed Washington a wicked smile. “I rather like a slightly tarnished reputation, sir.”
“She is escorted by her cousin, Mr. Damien Roswell,” the innkeeper said.
The men all exchanged sharp glances. Eric shrugged and looked pleasantly at the innkeeper. “Then tell her that I shall be with her immediately. My every wish is to serve her.”
The door closed and the innkeeper left them.
“Damien Roswell is an ardent patriot,” Henry said. “One who moves in ways that may well be more practical than the rest of us, at the moment.”
“More treasonous ways, the king might well say. I hope the young man has the good sense to take care with his cousin,” Jefferson agreed.
Watching Eric, Washington shrugged. “Perhaps she is fond of him and fond of his policies after all.”
Eric remembered her expertise in removing the bullet from the young printer’s shoulder in Boston. He remembered, too, her fury at her position—following his lead because she was afraid. For Damien.
She was not seeing things their way. Not at all. “Perhaps she is after something,” Eric said.
“Well, you’ll have to see the young lady to find out, won’t you?” Henry suggested.
