He finished his tea, put on his hat, and left the tavern. He had messages of Captain Whitby’s to deliver. The sooner he got thatdone the better. Who knew how many return missives he’d have by the end of the day? He might even have to wait a day or two for some. But that was the nature of spy work. Wait, sit, and pray to the Almighty that he and fellow spies like Anna Turner didn’t get caught.
Two
Anna carried the last of the luncheon plates into the kitchen and set them beside the basin. Her hands wanted to tremble, but she wouldn’t let them. With her luck she’d drop a dish, and drawing attention was the one thing no one in the Pembroke household could afford.
Sometimes Anna thought that if Mrs. Pembroke were given a rebel uniform, she might win the war for them. The woman was overbearing at times. Oh, very well, alotof the time. But she did it in a sweet way. Her manipulations were works of masterful precision, and before anyone knew what had happened, they were carrying out her outrageous plans with the same precision.
Mrs. Fenwick glanced at her over a mound of peelings. “You look pale, dearie.”
“I’m well enough,” Anna said. “Just tired. Mrs. Pembroke caught me in the hall.”
“That makes you more than tired, dear.” Mrs. Fenwick gave a soft snort and reached for another potato. “A body could sleep a week in this house and still wake up tired. Especially after a conversation with her.”
Mercy, who stood at the worktable rolling pastry, gave a quick look toward the servants’ hall. “Are they still in the dining room? More importantly, is Mrs. Pembroke still lurking in the hall?”
“No.” Anna reached for a drying cloth. “They’ve gone into the parlor. I have no idea where Mrs. Pembroke went.”
Mrs. Fenwick’s hand stilled. “All of them?”
Anna nodded. “Captain Whitby and two officers.”
Mercy lowered her voice. “Do you think they’ll be wanting tea?”
“They always want tea,” Mrs. Fenwick said. “If the king’s army ever truly ran out of tea, the war would end by supper.”
Mercy pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
Anna almost smiled, but her humor faded. The officers spoke of Nathaniel Reed as though he were a man to be trusted. Reliable. Dependable. Whitby’s words still circled in her mind, one after another. He was going to be trouble, she knew it.
Mrs. Fenwick’s gaze narrowed. “Anna.”
She sighed. “Yes?”
“Dry the plates, dear. Don’t polish the pattern off them.”
Anna gasped as she realized she’d been rubbing the same dish for at least a minute. “Sorry.”
Mrs. Fenwick studied her a moment, then looked toward the hall. “Best take in the tea before anyone rings for it. If we anticipate them, they can’t complain.”
“They’ll complain anyway,” Mercy muttered with an eye roll.
“Yes, but they’ll have to do it with a cup in hand,” Mrs. Fenwick said. “That’s different.”
Anna set the plate aside and reached for the tray. Tea, cups, saucers, sugar, a small pitcher of cream, and a plate of seed cakes were quickly arranged. Mrs. Fenwick supervised every inch of it as though preparing for a general inspection. Perhaps she was. In the Pembroke house, serving tea to British officers felt no lessdangerous. Keeping Mrs. Pembroke out of everyone’s business was what brought the real danger. One of these days, Anna wouldn’t be surprised if Captain Whitby had the meddlesome woman arrested.
“Careful now,” Mrs. Fenwick said. “Go in, set everything down, and come straight back. No lingering.”
Anna lifted the tray. “I won’t.”
Mrs. Fenwick gave her a look that said she knew perfectly well Anna might, then turned back to the potatoes.
Anna left the kitchen and made for the hall that led toward the front of the house. The parlor door stood partly open, and the sound of men’s voices carried through it. Captain Whitby’s voice was easiest to recognize. He always spoke as though every room belonged to him, whether it did or not.
“...not until the ship arrives,” he was saying.
Anna slowed. A ship? Her hands tightened on the tray. She forced them to relax before the cups rattled.
“That was not the original arrangement,” another man replied. She thought it was Lieutenant Rothborne, though she couldn’t be certain from the hallway.
