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The soldier quirked a brow. “Rebellion runs in the family, does it?”
“Nay, he was a redcoat. Like you. He fought under Smith. We were often mistaken for one another…”
Lord, let him believe this falsehood. If not for me, for Anna.
The soldier stepped forward, lips prepared to speak when a voice called through the wood.
“Pryer?”
The man turned as another soldier joined them. William’s inner call to battle drummed his pulse to a pace he’d rarely known.
“You are needed back at camp.” The soldier looked between William and Anna then back to Pryer. “Is there a problem?”
Pryer’s eyes thinned. William’s muscles bulged as his blood consumed his limbs. The soldier had nothing to prove, but that did not always stop them from making examples of those they disliked.
Pryer answered flat. “Nothing more than a patriot and his wife.”
“Good.” The other soldier motioned behind him. “Stockton has need of you. Now.”
Stockton? Which Stockton?
William walked toward Anna, feigning ignorance though within a thunder of cannon fire exploded.
Pryer glared and stepped backward, silent, before turning to walk the way he’d come when suddenly he stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “Do not allow yourself to get casual, patriot. We are watching. Always.”
~~~
Anna gripped her skirt to keep her hands from shaking as she flicked her gaze from the retreating soldier to her husband. Never had she witnessed William’s face become so red and his biceps flex so hard beneath his shirt.
He rushed near and took her arm. “Come, wife.” Snatching the basket, he led her back to the house. “We have much to do before sunset.”
Anna berated her ignorance. The soldier could still be watching, listening. She did her best to squeeze the lingering panic from her arms and legs. “I hope I gathered enough nettle.” Anna peered around him at the basket. “Kitty shared a recipe that I should like to try.” She felt the heat go to her cheeks. “It seems simple enough for one with so few skills in the kitchen.”
William glanced down as they reached the edge of the wood. His eyes were still rimmed with concern, but the deep blue centers were tender. “You under estimate yourself.”
“If only that were true.”
They continued their walk in silence and soon entered the house. Anna went to the table and placed the basket beside the chair. William closed the door.
“Tell me,” she said, removing her gloves. “Was all that true?” She turned to face him. “About your brother—did he really die at Lexington?”
William removed his hat and greatcoat, hanging them on the peg by the door. He raked his fingers over his head and pressed out an audible sigh. Finally, he met her gaze. “Nay.” He went to the fireplace and crouched to add another log. “I needed him to leave, so I said what was necessary. Then, of course, the other soldier arrived and saved us from further scrutiny.”
“You lied.”
He craned his neck. “You disapprove?”
She smiled and dumped the nettle in an empty wooden bowl. “I can hardly find reason to reprimand when you came to my rescue. A second time.”
He pushed up from his haunches, a handsome half-smile on his mouth and started to step past, but she grabbed his arm.
“I know you didn’t follow me.” A quick breath gave her the strength to speak the question. “What were you doing there?”
William blinked, his mouth tightening. “There are some things that are best left unspoken.”
Releasing her hand from his arm he started for the door. “I must check the garden.”
“You were smuggling.”
