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Nathaniel went on, undeterred as if he’d heard nothing of Joseph’s protest. “You could pass as relatives—as brother and sister even.” He tilted his head, one eyebrow slanted. “And if you two were to ‘return home’ to Eaton Hill after visiting a Loyalist family up north and simply happen to find the soldiers there…I do believe such a tale would be believed.”
“Let us say your plan is accepted and we move forward—how are we to act at the ‘news’ of our father’s death, hmm?” He removed his hat and raked a hand over his head. Growling to the sky, he finished the continuous thought. “There are so many flaws in this proposal I cannot begin to name them. Not to mention anything of the fact that you are completely ignorant of the past that lies like a vast ocean between Hannah and me. We cannot be made to spend time together like that, Nathaniel. ’Twould not be proper, no matter how we devised it.” Improper, aye. More, ’twould be cutting open a festering wound and salting it through.
“Well…” Nathaniel conceded with a slight tilt of the head. “You are right. I did forget about that. So who would you have accompany her in your place? There are plenty of men in camp who would be more than happy to be her guardian and companion in such an undertaking.”
The mention of it forced Joseph’s muscles to flex. No man in camp could be trusted beyond his intimate group of friends—and with all of them married, ’twould be impossible for them to accompany her. He looked toward camp, his insides afire at the thought of any other man at her side. A stranger could well take advantage of her in ways unthinkable.
Nay. It had to be him.
Like meat on a spit, he was skewered, the truth spinning him over the heat of a fiery, unforgiving fate.
“’Twould be only for two weeks.”
Joseph scowled. “Two weeks?”
“Thomas says Washington is in great need of intelligence regarding their movement, troop numbers, artillery, and this knowledge must be had by mid-February, if not sooner, so the decision of how and when to attack can finally be made.”
Rubbing his temple, Joseph grumbled silently. Two weeks was not so terrible, and such a mission would give his mind plenty of action to distract from the nearness of her.
He sighed aloud and dropped a hand to his side. “I shall do it. But we shall go as cousins and name Ensign our uncle.”
Nathaniel nodded, trying to hide a victorious lift of his mouth. “Excellent.”
Joseph scowled. What had he done? He looked to the camp. There was no going back on it, no matter how his stomach churned. He turned back to Nathaniel, whose wide grin was now fully exposed and close to being smacked. “When do we leave?”
Nathaniel’s smile grew wider still. “At dawn.”
* * *
The morning road was nearly empty, but for a few shoppers and tavern patrons who raced over the snowy roads to find warmth indoors, for there was none to be had in the frigid January air. A thick coat of fog hovered over the road like a sea of floating white. Scents of wood smoke tickled Philo’s nose as the muted sound of a ship’s bell barely reached his ears from the sea a mile away.
Philo hurried his pace, glancing aimlessly at his mud-covered shoes before putting his attention forward. ’Twas early, perhaps too early for Maxim to be in his office, but even if he wasn’t, Philo could wait. The inquiry he’d sent to Plymouth, innocently asking about the sale of Eaton Hill, had yet to receive a response. Perhaps none would come. It mattered little. Philo dodged a pile of manure and continued on. Maxim knew everyone and everything, and with a little persuasion, he could be prevailed upon to do just about anything. Getting this information would be a simple task for such a man as Maxim.
“Uncle!”
Philo looked over his shoulder, the quiet road suddenly less pleasant than it had been as his niece hurried toward him. He faced forward, hoping she would hear his feigned pleasure, not see the irritation in his eyes. “Caroline. How are you?”
She rushed up beside him, a laden basket in her arms. “I am well. And you?”
Her exuberance made her seem younger than the five and twenty years she boasted. Then again, she had always been the most animated of the two—Hannah, in truth, only slightly more reserved.
“Where are you off to?”
Not slowing his step, he glanced at her with his eyes only, dismissing her inquiry with a comment of his own. “I might ask the same of you. Where do you go on such a morning with so large a basket?”
“Oh…” She looked down, shifting the cloth more securely over the contents before flinging him a smile. “’Tis nothing.”
Her obvious dismissal of his question was no surprise. They had never been close, despite her congenial nature. And no matter how he wished to ignore the sensation, Caroline Whitney had a strange way of being able to make him more at ease than even his own sister. He glanced at her, struck by how much she resembled Helena. “How is your mother?”
Smile blooming, Caroline shifted the basket in her arms. “She is well, thank you. ’Tis fortunate I came upon you. She requested I seek you in order to issue an invitation to dinner this evening.”
His dear sister, Helena, had always been kind to him. ’Twas more than he could say for any other member of the family. That familiar burning, the same he’d suffered since Ensign’s ill news, began again. “Give her my thanks, but I fear I cannot accept.”
“No?”
“I shall be engaged elsewhere.” Philo rubbed the aching spot in his palm.
She nodded with a humming response. “Church related, no doubt?”
