~*~
The noise that woke Erva was so loud it tore through her deep sleep. She sat up with a start, then searched the sunny-lit room. Her body remembered very well that she and Will had made love through much of the night, even waking up once to find a large bathtub and take a lukewarm dip. Her hair was still damp. Smiling she gazed down at the bed, expecting to see Will.
On the pillow where his head should have rested, was a folded piece of parchment with her name on it. Another boom exploded somewhere close by, and she finally realized it was a cannon shot. She flinched, then snatched the parchment and opened it.
15th day of September in the year of our Lord 1776
My darling,
It is my fault, for I forgot to request to retire from the Army yesterday. Something distracted me. Something wonderful.
I thought it my duty to obey my orders for today. There is no need to worry, since you know the outcome. I will approach General Howe with paying off my commission and retiring immediately. I have also asked Paul to place the announcements of our upcoming nuptials. I hope we can marry soon, and, upon your acceptance of this, Paul will find us a reverend for our wedding.
I will see you when the battle ends, which you never told me how long that will take, but I trust you know. When it ceases we will make plans for our future, either in England on my estate, or anywhere else.
I love you, my darling. You have made me the happiest of men.
Your devoted servant and fiancé,
William
Erva clutched the note to her still bare chest, blinking and thinking. God, Will was supposed to die tomorrow. She’d never told him. How could she? Well, she wouldn't. He was going to retire, saving his life. Still, she was petrified.
She knew the history, knew what would happen today. Even with new finds and since the advent of anthropology helping the field of history, she knew that what once was considered fact could change the next day. And she too was changing history.
But would it let her?
Where were those bickering muses when she needed them anyway? Why hadn’t they come for her?
Erva knew the answer. They were coming tomorrow. They would be here either before or after Will was going to die. And there was no way she would let that happen.
She ran to the bureau, opening it wide and found a shift. Putting it on in record time, she laced up her own stays. Her last one, she realized. Will had torn her others. Her body smoldered at the memory. She’d loved it when he’d been so visceral with need for her. Her breasts ached, but she had no time to savor the recollection. She had to find Will and make sure he stayed safe. Yes, she knew that at the battle of Kip’s Bay the Continentals ran once the cannonade from the British Royal Navy started. But she couldn’t put anything to chance. This was her life, the rest of her life, and she needed to secure it.
Frantically, Erva found a white simple dress and even managed to sew herself in, then braided her hair as she left the chamber. Good grief, she’d just thought of the room as a chamber, hadn’t she? Yes, she could fit in during this time. It wouldn’t be difficult, especially when considering that out of the deal she would marry Will. God, she really should have studied more about the peerage. Of course, she knew the rudimentary details, but little else. Well, she would learn it rather well shortly. As long as she kept Will alive.
She flew down the stairs where Mrs. Jacobs ran toward her. “Lady Ferguson, where do ye intend ye’re going?”
“I’m finding the general and getting him home.”
Mrs. Jacobs, the adorable little woman, bit her bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. “I’ve heard about the engagement, and my hearty congratulations to the both of ye, but ye cannot go out into the midst of this battle, my lady.”
“Why not?”
Mrs. Jacobs blinked, staring at her for a moment too long. “’Tisn’t the place for a lady to be.” Her voice was calm and trying to be patient.
Erva lifted a brow.
Mrs. Jacobs snorted a laugh. “Ye can’t be serious, my lady. Ye can’t go out there. Can’t ye hear the cannon boomin’? They’re raging war, and that’s no place for a lady.”
Erva took a step closer to Mrs. Jacobs, not too sure what to say. She could tell her she’d been in the middle of a Taliban skirmish with rocket launchers. She could say something about her time in the Army’s intelligence unit. She could have said many things.
Instead, she took a deep breath. “Where’s Paul?”
“With the general, my lady.”
Gritting her teeth Erva realized she’d have to find Will on her own then. She nodded and left without another word. Jogging toward the livery stables, she thought of maybe just running to the docks of New York. It couldn’t be that far.
But she was fairly certain she couldn’t make that kind of run in her idiotic shoes. She wore tiny silk slippers she was pretty sure would fall apart any second, since she couldn’t find where Will had thrown her other pair, the more industrious leather shoes that were anything but pretty. The liveryman scurried to her, panting.
“My lady, what may I help you with?”
“I need a good horse, please.”
Another cannon exploded somewhere east of them, and both Erva and the man shrank from the noise.
“Maybe a horse that’s deaf?” Erva asked.
The man with graying hair blinked at her a few times. “You wish to ride out in this?”
She nodded.
His shoulders stooped. “The lord would not want that.”
Erva thought of Will who definitely wouldn’t want her out in a maelstrom of cannon balls. But she couldn’t help but think of tomorrow. He would fight valiantly, although one of his comrades would tease the Continental Army with a bugle fox song that would anger them enough to turn around during their retreat and fight back. It would be the first time the Americans actually made the British think that they were more than just rabble.
After Will’s death, which Howe took rather badly, his usual restraint in battle against the Americans was lost. He would beat them again and again.
All of that would happen if she didn’t keep Will safe.
Swallowing, she somehow felt that the liveryman was a better listener than Mrs. Jacobs. “I know. I’m sorry to put you in such a predicament, but I’m so worried about the general.”
He nodded. “I can understand why. It would be mighty hard on me to wait as a loved one went off to war.”
“I promise I’ll stay in safe places,” she lied. “I—I just want to ensure he stays out of danger.”
Combing a few thin gray strands of hair over his head, the liveryman nodded. “Mayhap I should go with you, my lady.”
She shook her head and clutched at the man’s shirtsleeve. “Please, don’t trouble yourself. Plus, if Will doesn’t see you, then I won’t tell him you helped me. He’ll never know.”
“Oh, my lady, I don’t care about that. And I don’t care about the lord’s wrath, if he has such a temperament. But I do understand love. Please don’t be reckless.”
At that Erva couldn’t hold back and hugged the small man in a tight hold.
Within a few minutes she sat upon a white horse with amazing blue eyes that the liveryman—Amos, she finally found out his name—had said was deaf. She didn’t trust herself to sit sidesaddle, so she sat astride the beast, first making sure her petticoats were under her. God, she might have to invent panties, knowing how useful they could be when riding a horse.
Finally she was off, trotting through the cobblestone streets, trying to remember her way to the pier. Well, even if she forgot entirely, she did have the noise from the Royal Navy, continually firing off cannons every few minutes. After a little time alone with the horse, she got it to canter, while she tried to remember how Will had used his hips to ride more comfortably with the horse’s stride. God, she wished she could be with him now. Fear pricked her skin, making her feel feverish an
d as if she might cry at any moment.
Down at the docks there were lines of soldiers, horses everywhere, and the huge sailboats, the Men of War, slicing through the water aiming at Manhattan. The smell of the sea mixed with gunpowder assaulted her nostrils, making her blink. The pier itself was not much other than a few docks, where not a boat was tethered. The sandy beach that surrounded the wooden planks glowed gold, and might have been a serene scene, if it weren’t for the red-clad soldiers, preparing for war, on the rocky soil. On Manhattan, across the mighty Hudson River, smoke spiraled to the blue sky, and Erva saw lines of redcoats on the island as well. Too many lobsterbacks to make heads or tails who was whom. She tried peering into the crowd of men around her, all seeming to be hot, and many now openly gawking at her. She supposed she did look a sight in a white dress, white horse, and her hair hanging over her shoulder, without even a hat. She hadn’t thought of wearing gloves, she’d been too much in a hurry.
God, how could she find Will in all this?
“My lady?”
Erva faintly heard a shy, female voice call out.
“Lady Ferguson?”
She finally spotted a pretty blonde waving and walking toward her in a rush.
“You are the Lady Ferguson, ja?”
The woman’s German accent was now noticeable. Erva nodded.
In a light blue dress and matching hat, the woman curtsied, while Erva kept staring down at her from her horse’s height.
“I am Friederike Riedesel. My husband—”
“Mrs. Riedesel?” Erva interrupted, because she knew who she was. Friederike was the wife of one of the most brilliant Hessian officers to come to the continent for the war. And she went everywhere with her husband, including their children.
“Ja, that is my name. Has your man spoken of my husband? By the by, I know of the announcement and congratulations on your wedding with General Hill.”
“Thank you,” was all Erva could think of to say. She was breathless because she couldn’t believe she was meeting a woman who’d kept a pristine diary of her doings here during the war. It was thanks to the woman before her that many historians knew so much of what life was like for the Hessians as well as camp followers. But also whirling around in Erva’s mind was the fact that everyone seemed to know from some announcement that she was getting married to Will. It was making Twitter look slow. However, more than anything she wanted Will beside her. Her fear of what might be happening was overcoming her.
Friederike reached a hand up to Erva. “I am very pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Erva said while shaking the hand offered. “You haven’t happened to see General Hill, have you?”
“This morning, before the battle, ja.” Friederike smiled shyly as she took back her hand, placing it over her heart. “He seemed most happy.”
Erva felt her cheeks begin to burn, although she was already warm from the early fall sun. But she pressed on. “You wouldn’t happen to know how I could find him in all this, would you?”
Friederike’s grin widened. “You worry over him already? How sweet.”
Erva forced herself not to roll her eyes, but just nodded.
“Well, my lady, I’m sorry to say, he will be most hard to find in the midst of this. You will have to wait. Wait with me. My children are at our home, and I have no one to talk to.”
Erva didn’t think she could merely wait, but if she sat then she could think of a plan to cross the river that lay between her and Will in the meantime.
After ensuring the white horse to a safe stable, Friederike showed her to an open tent, under which a dark-wood table sat with four matching chairs. On the table was an assortment of fall fruits—apples and some berries. Cheese and some kind of crusty bread were close by too.
“Eat, my lady.”
Erva looked at Friederike who seemed to be wincing.
“My English is not so good. I’m sorry.”
Erva smiled as she sat opposite the pretty lady. “Mein Deutsch ist nicht so gut.”
Friederike perked up, her eyes wide, and she clutched over her heart. “You speak my language?”
“Only a little. I’m sorry.”
Friederike’s blue eyes glistened with sudden tears. She blinked rapidly and clutched her handkerchief to face. “I’m so sorry, my lady, for my outburst. But I’ve been so lonely for a woman friend. And here you are, not only are you marrying a man my husband highly respects, but you speak my language.”
Erva wished she could say how nice it would be to become her friend. But she couldn’t have Will stay in the war another moment. Still, she had to say something.
“Ich fühle mich sehr geehrt,” Erva said, relaying she was honored.
Friederike waved her kerchief in the air as she silently wiped at her tears. “I’m very happy now.”
“Me too.”
“Will you eat with me then? I know it is much past the lunch hour, but I couldn’t eat earlier. Too worried. Now that the battle seems to be passing, I think I can eat. You?”
Erva glanced at the sun in the sky. It was afternoon. God, she’d slept for hours then, and trying to find Will hadn’t been a piece of cake, taking much longer than she’d wanted it to. It must have been around two in the afternoon. She should be hungry, but she touched her belly, feeling uneasy.
“I would love to eat, but I’m so nervous. Do you get nervous for your husband in...?” Erva gestured toward the sound of the cannons and the occasional far-off musket shot.
“Oh, yes. I get nervous every time. I was much more nervous when I was first married, I remember.” Friederike leaned forward conspiratorially. “I know I should not ask, but I was most nervous when I was with child. Could that be why the lady refuses to eat?”
Erva knew she truly blushed then, and shook her head. “I—no, I’m not.”
Friederike’s smile shimmered with mischief. “It is none of my business anyway. But I do like babies.”
More as a gesture to reassure her host that she wasn’t pregnant, Erva picked up an apple and ate it while thinking of how to cross the Hudson. For the next hour or so Erva went out of her mind as she listened to Friederike gossip about some of the British officers’ mistresses, then confide how much she’d wanted a friend, as she kept circling around the subject of having children.
Finally, Erva was thinking of swimming across the Hudson—hey, it wasn’t nearly as polluted as it would be in two hundred years—when she heard her name called out again. This time by a deep voice she recognized.
Standing, she rushed out of the tent to see Sergeant McDougal slowly walking toward her.
“That is you, my lady.” He bowed before he continued walking.
She halfway curtsied, but mainly threw herself at him, hugging him. He was dirty and smelled of gunpowder and wasn’t at all prepared for her embrace. But he laughed as he caught her.
“Happy to see me?”
“Where is he?” she huffed.
“Ah, I knew it too good to be true.”
She tried to laugh, trying even harder to find patience and not throttle him for not immediately telling her where Will was.
Sergeant McDougal squeezed her arms. “He’s fine, my lady. He’s still at Kip’s Bay, securing the area.”
She let out a huge waft of pent up air she didn’t even know she’d been holding. Then she finally did laugh, as a tear rolled down one of her cheeks. “He’s fine,” she repeated.
Sergeant McDougal gave her another squeeze. “I’ve heard of your upcoming marriage, and may I wish ye congratulations, my lady.” He leaned close, and whispered into her ear. “I’m glad he’s retiring, for although he was a good officer and soldier today, he needs to be with ye, ifnye don’t mind my opinion on that.”
Another tear escaped her eye and she shook her head, smiling at the sergeant when he leaned farther away. “I don’t mind at all.”
He stood tall, smiling down at her, but then tilted his rusty-colored head to the side. “Would ye like
to go to him?”
She almost crumbled to the sandy ground in relief. All she could do was nod enthusiastically.
“I’m sure I can get ye across to see him. The Continentals all ran with their tails tucked between their legs.”
Erva didn’t like the reference the Scot had made, but she knew at the Battle of Kip’s Bay the American Army had not been at their best. It would take almost two years before they were finally ready to battle the British toe-to-toe, and by then they had French, well-trained reinforcements to help.
She said a farewell to Friederike, whom she promised she would see again soon. Erva hated lying to the woman, but she was so lonely Erva was scared if she related that Will was retiring she’d try to talk him out of it. In Friederike’s diary she often wrote of her loneliness, but she was glad to be with her husband, and her husband was that much a better officer with her beside him.
It seemed to take an eternity to get a long boat to ferry her across the dinge-colored Hudson. Sergeant McDougal escorted her with about twenty other redcoat soldiers, all staring at her. She was the only woman going across, but she didn’t care.
By then the Royal Navy had stopped their bombing, and there wasn’t a musket shot heard. But looming in the air was the tenseness of war. It crackled and snapped against Erva’s skin, making her want to be with Will all the more. He would calm her. But that wasn’t why she wanted to be close to him. Although she knew the outcome of today’s battle, she was scared out of her mind about his welfare.
Finally, on the sandy shore of Kip’s Bay, Sergeant McDougal extended his arm for her, and she thought it a bit silly to parade around the beach as if they were taking a Sunday turn. She swallowed, realizing she’d used even more eighteenth-century jargon. It was reassuring. There had been a few nagging thoughts of things she might miss from her time, but the fact that Will’s idioms were coming so easily seemed like a good sign. This was where she was meant to be.
Sergeant McDougal asked where Will was, and they went into a small village with tiny, white-washed taverns and even smaller houses built close to each other. The late afternoon’s sun pelted out its punishment with too bright and hot beams, making everything seem too vivid. Row upon row of young red-coated soldiers gaped at her as she walked past them. Some ogled, some smiled. One fell on his knees and begged her to marry him as his friends laughed and pushed him over. Sergeant McDougal yelled at them, using some strong language that he apologized for after.
Then, over a small hill where a round brick well usurped most of the road, she finally saw him, Will. He sat on a black horse, smiling down at a man who was talking and pointing to the north. Will nodded but pointed in her direction. That was when he saw her. His smile vanished instantly. She didn’t care, but began to run to him.
He lifted his back leg and sprang from the saddle in a rather unorthodox way, but he did it with ease and, well, he looked rather sexy jumping from the horse like that. He jogged toward her, and all she could see was him. His face slowly began to spread into a small smile, but suddenly the grin froze. His eyes widened, and he reached for his pistol.
Alarmed, Erva kept loping toward him, never seeing that she ran straight into the arms of a filthy man, dressed in a royal blue coat and taupe breeches. He caught her with such force, that for a moment she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t understand why he’d embraced her the way he had, with his front to her back, holding her very still. That was when she realized he held a knife to her throat.
“Don’t,” the man holding her said to Will.
Will skidded to a stop, his hand still on his pistol at his hip.
“I’m goin’ to kill ye,” Sergeant McDougal growled.
Erva wasn’t too sure if he was threatening her for running off on her own, or the man at her back.
Taking one last look at Will’s panicked face, she saw how tormented he was, one of his arms outstretched toward her, as if that could stop the man who threatened her. It was Will’s face that gave her the calm she had needed all day. The training came back to her within a blink of the eye. She remembered her drill sergeant holding her exactly like this, but with a rubber knife.
“I—I’m takin’ the lass with me as insurance for my life. I’ll give her back when I reach my camp. I promise,” the man behind her said.
“The hell you will,” Sergeant McDougal yelled.
“Take me instead,” Will said coolly. “I’m a general. You know my imprisonment could afford to have many soldiers we captured today set free, if not all of them. Take me.”
The sweet gesture almost made Erva lose her concentration, but she wouldn’t let it. Not at a time like this. The man behind her, though, was considering Will’s deal. He loosened his grip around her neck, and she gained the distance she needed, pushing her head farther away from her abductor’s, simultaneously readying one of her hands for the knife. In a split second she flung her head back as hard as she could, feeling the man’s nose snap against her. Her vision blurred from the pain, but she caught the hand that held the knife and twisted it downward and away while she stomped on his instep. He instantly gave way with a grunt and began to topple behind her. Easily enough she had his knife, and twirled around as the Continental soldier fell back, holding his nose.
She was trying to think of a retort to yell at the man for ruining what could have been such a romantic moment, when she felt Will capture her and lift her in his arms. He sidestepped quickly away from the Continental soldier on the ground, whom Sergeant McDougal had just pounced on.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, releasing the knife to the cobblestone road where it seemed to clatter too loudly.
Will’s lips punished hers. “My darling.” He kissed her again, a bit longer. “My darling, my beautiful Minerva, goddess of wisdom and war. I should have known you could have done that. Oh, my darling.”
Erva heard something snap and although she wanted to bask in Will’s words, his hard kisses, she tore away and stared at Sergeant McDougal as he forced the man who had tried to kidnap her to stand. Eventually he did, but he held one of his arms as blood gushed down his nose.
“I’ll...talk to that man later,” Will said in a voice Erva didn’t recognize, sounding like metal scraping against metal. The way he’d emphasized the word talk made her think he actually would have nothing to say.
“Aye, sir,” Sergeant McDougal said, as he gruffly pulled the Continental along by his collar.
“Will,” Erva whispered. When Will finally did meet her gaze, she saw how dark his eyes had changed. They looked black blue, and so fierce. She’d gotten to know Will as a man, but until that moment she’d never met the soldier in him. Granted, his tactics seemed calculated and intelligent, like him, but a part of a soldier knows how to kill, and is so unlike any other part of a man—or a woman, as Erva well knew. That part of a soldier is uncivilized, ferocious, and unapologetic for it, and always has to contend with the other portions composing the soldier that are apologetic, rational, and loving.
She caressed Will’s whiskered cheek, liking how he’d apparently not shaved this morning, but also trying to coax him back to her. His nostrils flared.
“Please,” she whispered.
Will had been holding his breath, but against her ribs, she felt him inhale. His jawline twitched over and over again. Finally, he slid his gaze back to Sergeant McDougal.
“I will talk to the man tomorrow.”
The sergeant nodded and said over his shoulder, “Aye, sir.”
Then she was alone with Will, holding her so close that she was sure his hands were leaving bruises. But she didn’t say anything about her discomfort. She caressed his cheek again.
“I’m sorry.”
He met her gaze. The initial relief of being free from her abductor was gone, replaced by worry for the man who held black-blue eyes and looked at her with every plane in his face tense.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
He swallowed and held her even closer. “I don
’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.”
“I’m so sorry, Will. I—I was scared too, so I had to find you.”
“But you knew the outcome of this battle.” His accusation cut into her, and she felt embarrassed she’d reacted so hastily.
Still, he seemed to hold her even closer; however, he did adjust his hands so they didn’t bite into her quite as hard.
She couldn’t look at him any longer, but down to where her chest met his. “I—I was scared anyway. I was scared that maybe what I know would change.”
He walked her towards a small gray house. Without a word, he kicked in the door. With his heel he slammed it shut.
Evening encroached, and the sun slanted through the house’s windows in orange and dark yellow. The day had been a hot one, and still the heat pounded the streets, but the house was somehow cool and decorated with a small couch and chairs around a tiny table. Will circled, then went to the windows, shutting the curtains, with Erva still in his arms.
“What—what are you doing?” Erva finally asked.
“I don’t know.” Again, his voice sounded darker than usual.
“Are you angry with me?”
Finally, he stopped pulling down the curtains as he jostled her in his arms, refusing to let her go. He stilled and stared into her eyes.
Enemy of Mine Page 31