“He shall go down in history,” Washington commented.
Eric grinned as they carefully moved through the early-spring muck, heading for one of the local taverns.
“I imagine he shall,” Eric agreed.
Washington stopped suddenly, leaning against a tree that had just sprouted soft green leaves. He turned and looked at Eric intently. “It will be war, you know.”
“Yes, I think it shall.”
“What will you do?”
Eric twisted his jaw, watching his own friend levelly. “I think, George, that over the years I have more than proven my loyalty to Virginia.”
“Your loyalty is not in question. But you have grave interests. I’ve spoken with many dear friends who are planning to return to England. Fairfax and Sally…they are going soon. Many friends.”
Eric nodded grimly. “I’ve spoken with a few cousins who are leaving. I’ve an appointment tonight with a distant Cameron relation. I’m selling him property I have in England and I’m buying up the land that he has bordering my own.”
“You are lucky to be able to make such arrangements.” Washington watched him intently. “What of your wife?”
Eric did not mean to stiffen so abruptly and so completely, and give away so much of himself. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said too quickly. Life had moved fast and furiously in the last few months. Momentous things were happening. He was caught in the wild winds of change, and he was eager to ride them. He had steered his mind from thoughts of Amanda by day, but she had haunted him every night, and along with the pain and the longing had come bitterness. He would never be able to trust her. What in God’s name had she been doing, running into the night? Meeting with an influential Tory—or with a lover? Or perhaps the lover and the Tory were one and the same. His anger at her had been so great he hadn’t dared to stay with her.
She had lied about the child. She had known something about the death of Damien’s horse. She was betraying him with every breath she took.
“What do you mean, ‘What of my wife’?” he queried coldly.
“Eric, I’m your friend. It’s just that it is well known that Lady Cameron’s sympathies have not changed—”
“She is suspected of something?” Eric asked flatly.
“Eric, I do not try to offend you—”
“George, you do not offend me. But Amanda is my wife. She will support me.”
“But—”
“Or else,” Eric said, squaring his jaw stubbornly. “I will take care of her.”
“What if—”
“I will take care of her, George. You’ve my solemn vow on that. If it becomes necessary, I will see that she is removed.”
Washington looked at him, then sighed softly. “I pray, my friend, that you can. I for one could not. But come, let’s have a drink together, while we still can. I’ve a feeling that things that have so far crawled will take off with a mad gallop soon.”
Twenty minutes later they were all within the tavern at a table, he and George, Richard Henry Lee, Patrick Henry, and a few others. An elderly gentleman, Pierre Dupree, from north of the Richmond area, had joined them. And yet, as the men drank and laughed and teased and tried to take harbor from the growing sense of tension they themselves were creating, Eric noted that Dupree was watching him and paying little attention to the true firebrands who were the root of revolution.
Dupree, white-haired, impeccably dressed in mustard breeches and crimson coat, could down his fair share of whiskey. As the others flagged and begged leave to retire for the night, Dupree remained. Finally Washington rose, and all that remained in the dimly lit place at the table were Eric—and Dupree.
“Well, my youngami,” Dupree murmured, “perhaps another drink?”
The candle burned low upon their table. Slumped back in his chair, Eric grinned, feeling lighter than he had for some time. “Monsieur Dupree, you have studied me so seriously. You have waited for so long. Why?”
The old man offered him a Gaelic shrug. “Curious, monsieur. And with no right to be so.”
“Curious?” Surprised, Eric raised his pewter tankard and downed a long swallow of whiskey. “I admit to being baffled, monsieur. Tell me, what is it you wish to know?”
“I don’t wish to offend you.”
Eric smiled. “Don’t offend me, sir, merely speak.”
