Immortal (The Trelawneys of Williamsburg Book 2)

by Meredith, Anne

  “With the troops here in Boston?”

  Parks threw herself on the small couch nearby. “Ugh! The troops! The troops! ’Tis the only topic of conversation! By the time the horrid troops leave, I’ll be an old maid!”

  Marley began looking through Helen’s gowns as if she cared much what she wore. And yet, if she were honest with herself, she thought as she fingered the dainty lace at one prim collar, she did care. It would be the first time Hawk saw her as a woman. And despite what they’d been through, despite her tender feelings for him, she didn’t know what to do with this sudden interest in appearing beautiful. She hadn’t been raised to think it was ever an option.

  Perhaps, like Parks said, it was simply the constant drudgery of war. Even during their time on the open ocean, they had never lost sight of the fact that in smuggling gunpowder, they could all be hanged for treason.

  “You have a beautiful name. Parks. It’s unusual.”

  The girl stood again, pleased by this. “I’m named after a lady my Mama admired. She said my name means that no one can tell me I have to stand, if I’m of a mind to sit.”

  “Inspiring thought.” Even as she said it, she couldn’t exactly see anyone holding this young lady down against her will. “So, do you have a beau?”

  She giggled at the question even as she produced another dress. “Wear this. ’Tis pretty and plain, too.”

  A simple warm taupe with a creamy silk ribbon at the wrists and neckline, its coloring and elegant simplicity suited Marley.

  Parks withdrew the petticoats and pockets and other accessories she needed to dress. “You can’t tell anyone. But yes. My true love is Uncle Hawk.”

  Marley again concealed her amusement—just in the nick of time. She wasn’t too much of a threat if she still referred to him as Uncle Hawk.

  “He is quite handsome, isn’t he?” she said, with a smile.

  Parks rolled her eyes dramatically. “Everyone I know loves him. Well, him or my brother. He’s funny, and strong, and brave. He’s like a knight from days gone by. He would do anything for me.”

  “I can understand why he’s dear to you.”

  The girl sighed. “Let me show you where the water closet is, so you can wash up.”

  She escorted Marley to a small room off the dressing room, where she piled all her clothing and a pair of slippers onto a small table.

  At that moment, they heard a soft rap on the outer door to the dressing area. “Marley?”

  Hawk.

  Parks ran to the door, peeking out. “We’re almost ready.”

  Marley closed the door to the water closet, surprised to find a bathroom of lavish elegance, albeit only rudimentary functionality. Quickly, she removed her clothing and although she didn’t have the time for a proper bath, she scrubbed until she’d washed away enough grime to form a new person. The water was cold and so the soapy sponge bath went quickly.

  When she donned Helen’s clothing, the curve of her breasts appeared in the deep plunge of the neckline, and she blushed at the frank display. She lightly tried to coax the flower ornamentation in the midst of the bodice up a little farther for a bit of modesty, but its function was to draw attention, not conceal. The best she could do was flatten the lace; that fourth of an inch didn’t hide much.

  She looked at her stack of grungy sea clothes, feeling an odd warmth for them. She found a shelf and placed them there so she could collect them later.

  “Ready?” Parks called, tapping at the door.

  “Do you have a ribbon, so I can pull my hair back?”

  With a frown, Parks made a noise of frustration. “Everybody has better bosoms than I do. Even you!”

  Faint praise, indeed.

  “Sit down there, and I’ll fix it up for you.”

  In only minutes, Parks had tamed and dressed her hair so that it piled in loose, artistic curls above, with just a tendril or two along her temples. Then the girl stepped out of the water closet and stood before a mirror Marley hadn’t noticed before. In the dark mirror and the candlelit room, it was difficult to see clearly, but Parks pinched at her cheeks and straightened her own clothing, pouting with comical seduction at her reflection, a silly gesture that silly girls would be making centuries later.

  The girl reached into an armoire and produced a lovely shawl, draping it over Marley’s shoulders and into the bend of her elbows. “There. Perfect.”

  She turned away toward the door, and Marley was surprised to catch a glimpse of herself. And for the first time in her life, she saw the woman Nan had described—exotic and beautiful.

  The thought of Nan made her melancholy. Back in the twenty-first century, Marley was sure, she would have already reunited with Jimmy. Perhaps without Marley there between them, might he finally be treating her better?

  Marley hastily rearranged the shawl modestly and followed Parks into the hallway. The women retraced their steps back through the gallery, and at last, they arrived at the head of the stairs. Raven and Hawk stood with Mr. Adams in the entryway, drinking from snifters of brandy.

  The men, too, had scrubbed up. Hawk’s hair was damp and shone in the candlelight, and she was taken back to the night aboard the Adventurer, watching him play in the basin of water.

  Parks cleared her throat, none too subtly.

  The men looked up.

  “About time!” Raven called, abruptly dismissing interest in them and leaving the room.

  His father and Hawk, on the other hand, looked at each other in amusement at his desertion, then waited at the foot of the stairs as the young women descended.

  And as Hawk extended his elbow to Marley, an utterly oblivious Parks put her hand there instead.

  Marley caught her smile as she met his surprised eyes over Parks’ head, and she watched his gaze move over her with fleeting appreciation before he focused on the younger woman.

  Mr. Adams bowed and offered her his arm. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you to dinner?”

  They followed Hawk and Parks into an elegant dining room glittering with crystal and china and silverware. The room was redolent with heady aromas of dinner, and Marley inhaled deeply in appreciation as she glanced around at the lovely foods. A gigantic, perfectly browned roast served as the table’s centerpiece.

  Raven, standing behind a chair, noticed the awkward pairing and hastily took his sister’s arm, steering her toward a vacant seat beside him. “How I’ve missed my baby sister on this voyage.”

  She scowled at his phrasing and when she would’ve resisted, Mr. Adams took her other arm with courtly grace. “You haven’t seen your brother for six months, Parks, and he has missed you. Surely you can take pity on him tonight?”

  With the younger lady waylaid, Hawk touched Marley’s waist lightly. He guided her toward the other side of the table where he seated her between Helen and himself. Leaning close, he murmured in her ear, “May I take your wrap?”

  She lightly ducked away from him, but let the shawl settle just slightly lower.

  Parks was displeased with the development, but she seemed to be a well-adjusted young girl, and she was happy to be seated at her doting brother’s right hand.

  At last everyone was seated except Mr. Adams, and he placed his snifter beside his plate and folded his hands before him. “Shall we pray?”

  Marley closed her eyes and folded her hands in her lap, and her face warmed as she felt Hawk’s hand cover hers.

  He led them in a prayer of thanksgiving and supplication for wisdom and protection for those who fought for the freedom of all men.

  At its conclusion, he asked Raven to slice the roast while he opened several bottles of wine and placed them around the table after serving everyone.

  Mrs. Adams began passing the dishes, and Marley found herself smiling; she couldn’t remember ever appreciating such good food as much as she did in this moment.

  Marley drank the wine slowly, reluctant to make a fool of herself in front of Raven’s parents.

  Mr. Adams asked, “So you ca
ptured a prize. Without revealing anything we shouldn’t know, what can you tell us?”

  Raven, happily chewing, deferred to Hawk—also more interested in the roast beef.

  “Well. It would be difficult to imagine any general of the Continental Army, no matter how vivid his imagination, drafting a list of needed supplies more complete than the inventory the men took yesterday.”

  Raven swallowed and jabbed his fork at Hawk. “Unfortunately, we all know that even with that, it isn’t enough to overpower those ships in the harbor—not with their firepower. And they’re so well-stocked, we can keep picking off their supply ships and they can still last.”

  Mrs. Adams shook her head, her voice falling almost to a whisper. “No. They’re starving, too. I saw a few of them on the road, and they looked downright skeletal.”

  Helen shook her head. “They did look thin. Now they have supplies, and they have firewood. They’re getting stronger every day, and have already destroyed all our homes in the meantime.”

  Raven cast a glance from Helen to his father. “What does that mean?”

  “Firewood,” Mr. Adams said, repeating the word Helen had mentioned as if she’d spoken of gold and silver. The grim soberness in his gaze frightened Raven. “They’ve dismantled every Patriot’s home on Boston peninsula.”

  “And ours?”

  The father of the clan hesitated. No one need say the obvious. “Please, let us think for now on our blessings. Delicious food, a comfortable home, and the love and good health of our loved ones here with us.”

  With that, Marley looked up to find Hawk’s gaze on her. He refilled their wine and rested his hand in easy comfort over hers in her lap. “I take it Toni and Marie are in Jamaica?”.

  “Since the siege began,” Mr. Adams said. “So what will your next move be?”

  “Cambridge, tomorrow. To see if we can settle the matter of the Delight. It won’t be easy. For an organization of leaders still in its infancy, Congress seems especially incompetent to agree on anything, including the time of day.” After a sip of wine, he said, “Between us, I am not quite sure Congress has even approved this illegitimate navy of privateers. I’ve heard our Commander-in-Chief has been outfitting private ships donated to the cause—any seaworthy tub he can get his hands on. I believe him quite brilliant. But in managing this Congress, a group of farmers and fishermen, abolitionists and slave owners, doctors, lawyers, New Englanders, Southerners, … well, after all, he’s a mere mortal.”

  His hand smoothed down Marley’s thigh as he spoke, and she took it between her own hands, interlacing his fingers with hers. The last thing she needed was to become aroused here at the dinner table, and she found just the thought of his warm glance on her arousing. His touch on her was beyond her powers of resisting.

  He accepted her rebuff, squeezing her hand and relaxing his hand over hers.

  “Marley, what about you?” Mrs. Adams put in, and Marley’s cheeks stung with embarrassment, as if she’d been caught in her prurient thoughts. The lady smiled easily at her, though. “Where are you from? How did you wind up on the Adventurer?”

  “Marley is from Virginia,” Hawk put in, possibly the first time he’d ever irritated her.

  Mrs. Adams, too, seemed perturbed. “I’m sure she can answer for herself, dear.”

  He gave a simple nod, then refilled his plate with beef and mashed potatoes.

  “Hawk’s right,” she said. “I’m from the tidewater area. I was separated from my grandmother at sea, and Hawk rescued me from the ocean. He truly saved my life.”

  “Oh, how romantic,” Parks said, and as Marley glanced toward her, she realized the young girl had been observing everything between them. She had the most pathetic look on her face—both calf-eyed and miserable.

  Mrs. Adams glanced at her younger daughter with a sweet smile. “Dear, could you fetch the pies?”

  “Marley, would you like to help me?” Parks beamed at her.

  Helen stood, patting Marley’s shoulder as she left the table. “I’ll help. Clever,” she said more quietly to her sister as they left the room.

  Raven said, “Oh—you know that cardio pulmonary resuscitation of yours?”

  “Yes?”

  “It did save her life. Her heart wasn’t beating when Hawk pulled her out.”

  Marley’s mouth fell open as she looked from Raven to Hawk. “You never told me that.”

  Chewing, he raised his eyebrows casually—shrugging it off.

  “I’m so delighted to hear that. Just that—this dinner, Marley sitting here with us—that makes it all worthwhile.”

  Then she focused a piercing gaze on Marley. “I was asking about where you were from because I feel like I know you from somewhere. There’s something so familiar about you, and yet I can’t place you.”

  “I feel the same way, as if I’ve seen you somewhere—even as I know it cannot be possible.”

  “No,” Mrs. Adams said. “It couldn’t be, could it?”

  Raven put in, “Why? You’re both from the same place in Virginia. Maybe you grew up with her mother.”

  “I suppose anything’s possible,” Mrs. Adams said with a noncommittal laugh. “Would anyone like coffee?”

  Everyone did.

  “How can I help?” Marley asked.

  “Entertain these rogues. A sea shanty might work, if you know any.”

  Then she, too, patted Marley on the shoulder as she followed her daughters into the kitchen.

  “They keep patting me. Is that good?”

  Hawk bit his lip as he gazed at her—that utterly innocent, completely seductive expression so peculiar to him. She looked to Raven for answers.

  “They like you. Now, if you can win Parks over … Looks like she’s gone a bit spoony on Hawk. Fortunately she has the attention span of a moth, so just give her another hour. Surely Hawk can’t be that tough to get over.”

  Hawk smirked, making a whimsical flourish, a small loop in the air at his forehead—the salute of a jester to his king, perhaps.

  “Well, what happens next, about the prize?”

  All three turned to Marley, surprised to hear the question from her.

  Even as the women began returning, Hawk responded. “Tomorrow, we go to Cambridge.” Quickly darting her a quieting glance. “Meaning Raven and I. You’ll stay here with the women.”

  “But—”

  “No.”

  “Cambridge?” Mrs. Adams asked as she placed a tray on the sideboard. Her daughters followed, arranging pies there.

  Raven nodded. “We have to arrange for dispensation of the prize. With their impressive inertia, ’tis doubtful Congress has set up anything resembling an admiralty court.”

  “Lacking, as they do, an admiral,” Hawk murmured.

  “I beg of you, let me go.” None of the men there were surprised that the plea came not from Marley, but from the oldest woman there.

  Hawk and Raven deferred to her husband to respond, and they all looked to him.

  The patriarch rubbed his chin, perhaps testing whether he needed a shave. Then, as if he’d been daydreaming of butterflies, he abruptly looked up and shook his head. “No. Don’t be flighty.”

  The woman snorted almost comically. “You big, dumb man. When have I ever been flighty?”

  He smiled at her. “Pie, please.”

  “Oh, don’t tempt me.”

  “But why can’t I go?” Marley interjected. “You have to admit, I helped capture the whole thing.”

  This, neither man could deny.

  “I would so love to meet George Washington.”

  Hawk tilted his head at her. “I don’t recall mentioning Washington.”

  “You said the Commander-in-Chief.”

  “Yes, but how would a little girl like you … ah, never mind. I’ve given up guessing how you know these things.”

  “Marley, sweetie,” Mrs. Adams said, “do you know who William Byrd was?”

  “Of course.” With that, Marley hesitated. How to describe such a
man in the words of an eighteenth-century girl of seemingly humble origins? Ah—truthfully but vaguely. “I recall my father speaking of him when I was a small child. The most polished gentleman in the colony.”

  “Yes. Well, I lived within a few miles of him near the end of his life, and never once was I allowed to meet him.”

  “Nonetheless,” interjected Hawk with force to end the squabble, “This captain and his partner cannot and will not go down in history as capturing a prize with the good, swift, head-bonking aid of a cabin boy. We will meet General Washington, and we will meet him alone.”

  “Head bonking?” Mrs. Adams asked, drawing near with the coffee pot, holding it up to Marley with question in her eyes.

  “Funny you should ask,” Raven said. “Do not pass that woman that pot. She’s liable to smack a man to kingdom come.”

  “Ray,” his mother exclaimed, confused.

  “No, it’s true,” Marley said, holding up her cup. “I can’t be trusted with them.”

  Mrs. Adams poured coffee all around as her daughters sliced the pies.

  Helen asked, “Excuse me, but—we have berry, pumpkin, and chocolate. Who wants what?”

  Orders quickly went around, and Raven said, “Perhaps Hawk should tell the story. Although we must swear everyone within this room to secrecy, on pain of death.”

  “Agreed,” Hawk said. “To reveal our humiliation at the hands of a couple of nitwits, and our rescue by a simple maiden with a teapot—’tis almost more than a brave patriot can bear.”

  Marley turned to look at him. “I’d be careful who I described as simple, considering who was tied up, and who had the teapot.”

  Hawk gave her a slow smile over his wine glass, which he raised to her with a bow of his head. Then he leaned back and told the tale with great relish, as his seamen and Raven had told him. Indeed, it was already the stuff of legend—the gawky young cabin boy disabling their captor with a tankard and teakettle, while the captain sat tied up in his cabin and his quartermaster stood gaping, awaiting the lash. In fact, if anything he embellished on Marley’s behalf and at the expense of his own manhood, yet quite without any trace of embarrassment.

  Marley flushed with pleasure as he spoke of her with obvious pride.