“Be safe, Henry.”
“Aye,” he responded, “and you, Libby.”
I did not stay to watch him depart but hurried into the print room to see to the broadside.
“I will not print this.” Louis held up the resolution between his thumb and forefinger as I entered the room. He handed it back to Mama.
“I did not ask whether or not you want to print it,” Mama said to him, taking the document back. “We were instructed by the burgesses to print it, and we shall.”
“It’s treasonous.” Louis crossed his arms over his leather apron and planted his narrow feet. “Boston should be punished for their reckless actions, and we should not support their cause. It will only incite restlessness and rebellion in our colony.”
I had long suspected Louis was loyal to the crown, but this was the first I had heard him speak so plainly.
“’Tis not our job to question the House of Burgesses,” Mama told him, her voice much calmer than mine would be. “’Tis our job to print what they ask of us. If we do not, they will rescind our contract, and we will be out of work. I will not toss away everything we have striven for because my journeyman refuses to print a broadside.”
“If you want to print it,” he said, untying his apron and taking it off, “then you will have to do it yourself.”
Mama and I stared at him. We could not operate the print shop without Louis. He knew that as much as we did, and he could take the risk in standing his ground. Hadn’t he already tried when he’d proposed to me?
“I will print whatever the burgesses require,” Louis said as he hung his apron on its hook, “withinthe bounds of their legal responsibilities. But this, madam, is treason.”
“When did prayer, humiliation, and fasting become treasonous?” I asked, stepping farther into the room.
Louis turned his angry glare upon me, disgust in his eyes. “I see Henry Montgomery signed this thing.”
“He is the clerk, after all.”
“I wonder if that’s all he is.” He unrolled his sleeves to put on his waistcoat.
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
Louis stared at me, his jaw fixed. “People are talking, Libby.”
“Talking?” I shrugged, confused. People were always talking.
“There are rumors that he is spying on Governor Dunmore for the rebels.”
“That’s preposterous. His family has been close to Governor Dunmore for years. They are friends. Henry’s simply a burgess. Nothing more.”
“Friends?” He nodded at the document in Mama’s hands. “Friends do not sign resolutions in support of rebels.”
“What happens to one colony happens to us all.” I repeated Henry’s words, hoping Louis would feel the same passion I did. “Our brothers and sisters in Boston are suffering. Their plight is our plight.”
“Because of their lawlessness and rebellion. They deserve what they get.” He buttoned his waistcoat with precise movements. “I do not abide their actions, nor will I stand in solidarity with their cause.” He put on his tricorne hat and opened the back door.
He exited the printing room, leaving Mama and me there with Glen, who had blended into the background, his eyes large.
Mama sighed.
I pointed at the door, shocked that she hadn’t called him back. “Are you going to let him walk away?”
“I must respect his opinions.” She glanced at Glen. “Get some supper and then come right back. Ask Abraham to join us when he returns from Yorktown. We’ll be working late tonight.”
Glen nodded and rushed out of the room.
Mama went to the workbench and pulled out a wooden form for the broadside type.
“Will you dismiss Louis?” I watched her, uncertain how she would proceed.
