November 1776733Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0HE2C7M1ta
New Jersey, American Colonies
The men were hung that morning outside the town. Gallows had been erected on the hill overlooking the river port so all disembarking could see what happened to those suspected of spying for the rebels. Later that afternoon the November rains began to fall. Bone cracking cold doused Guy Fawkes Night, eliminating any chance of a bonfire to burn the effigies.
Ferocious banging jolted me out of a fitful sleep before the fire. Penelope cried in her crib nearby where she had drifted off while I darned wool stockings for the winter. Blinking away the weariness from my strained eyesight, I jumped to my feet. Pulse spiking, I reached out a comforting hand to my daughter. However, I did not bring her to the door with me. In truth, I was scared to do so.
Holding aloft a mulberry candle, it’s rich scent sweeter than that of plain tallow, I neatened the fichu around my neck. The hinges on the door creaked as I opened it a crack.
“Yes?” I whispered out into the misting night.
A familiar face cut into view with a bushy beard and juniper green eyes, “Mistress Pierpont?”
“Joshua Liebel? Is that you?” I gasped, pulling the door open to my husband’s childhood friend.
“Aye, with a friend,” he groused. Around his broad shoulders, the arm of an injured dragoon in blue and white hung. The stranger’s head lolled to the side like a doll’s.
Glancing around the abandoned edge of town where our homestead stood, I silently ushered them into our home. Like everyone else in town, I had heard of the ambush the Continental troops had wreaked upon the British Regiment. I prayed Joel had not been present.
“My husband?” I begged as Joshua dropped the man into the seat I had occupied, “Can you tell me anything about him?”
I picked up Penelope who quieted once she was in my arms. Joshua didn’t reply but tugged down the royal blue of the man’s sleeve and tore his shirt. A deep gash beside his neck stuck to the frayed edges of linen. I swallowed hard, forcing my squeamishness to subside.
“What do you need for him?” I croaked, hitching Penelope on my hip and pacing towards the hearth.
“If you could put the kettle on and get us some water boiling. That’d be grand, Mistress.” Joshua instructed as he dabbed a gash on the side of the dragoon’s dark head.
“Aye,” I murmured, kissing Penelope and setting her once more in her crib.
I returned with a kettle of water as Joshua stoked the kitchen fire to a roar. Penelope studied the scene with her serious, piercing blue gaze, so much like her father’s. It almost physically hurt me to look at her.
I tore strips from an old petticoat as Joshua eased the Dragoon’s coat off the rest of the way. Joshua had not taken on the uniform of the Continentals as my husband had done. Rather, he and one of my brother-in-laws had maintained the garb of a woodsman, scouting and taking reconnaissance of the British. He ran his meaty fingers over his shorn curls and peered over at me with weary eyes.
“We barely made it into town. Checkpoints and patrols everywhere. The woods are crawling.”
“My husband, please.” I straightened my posture, snapping self-control into my voice though my hands trembled as I continued to tear bandages, “Have you heard anything? Seen anything?”
“Michael and I were separated soon before the first shots were fired,” Joshua shook his head as he took a flask from his coat, “But as far as I know, your brother-in-law lives. You can tell his wife so. But your husband- honestly, I don’t believe his regiment was even present.”
I exhaled slowly, glancing over at Penelope as she plopped down on her behind but still watched us with muted curiosity, “Thanks be to God. I told him I didn’t want him to go, I told him this wasn’t for him-“
“And d’you think he’d listen? Joel Pierpont?” Joshua scoffed, taking a swig from the flask, “I only hope for your sake, Frances, that your little one didn’t inherit his strong will. Otherwise, you’ll be having quite a time mothering to be sure.” He chuckled as he poured the liquor onto the dragoon’s neck wound.
The bite of the alcohol on the torn flesh ripped the man to consciousness. He gasped, sitting up with eyes rolling around the warmly lit room. Joshua pressed a hand to his chest to settle him back in his seat, “That’s it, man. Easy does it. You’re safe.”
“Where am I?” He demanded in a thick Scottish brogue.
“New Jersey. You’re in the house of a friend. Mistress Pierpont here, her husband is in the Connecticut Dragoons. They’re good people,” Joshua coaxed, his bearish voice growling low.
The man winced as he gingerly touched the wound on his forehead. I brought over a couple strips of cloth and handed them to Joshua. The Dragoon squinted up at me, “Thank you, mam, for taking us in and risking yourself.”
“Tis no risk, I should hope someone would do the same for my man if it were he.” I managed a friendly smile, though my insides were quaking.
The regiment that had been posted in our town was under the authority of a man without bend. Inflexible as granite though just in action, I wondered if Major Sharp would show deference to a single woman and her infant daughter if they were caught harboring rebels. Again, I fought the terrible dread that we were being unfit parents.
Penelope deserved to be shielded from the horror of our world. Instead, her father was out riding into redcoat artillery and mother was aiding enemies of the King. If we had been childless, such behavior wouldn’t have been concerning. Risky but only to us. My loyalist mother had been right. The danger was too much of a threat to our child. We should have minded our own business and let someone else win the peace.
“That’s a lad,” Joshua murmured as he wrapped the cloth around the man’s shoulder.
“I know tisn’t a proper stance for it, Mistress, but let me introduce myself,” The man hissed through his teeth, “Captain Geoffrey Dougall.”
“Pleased to meet you, Captain. I am Frances Pierpont and this is my daughter, Penelope. Would you like something to drink?”
Captain Dougall’s dark eyes narrowed, his mouth snarling upwards as Joshua dabbed his forehead, “D’you mind me asking if you got anythin’ stronger than tea?”
“Aye,” I nodded with a smirk, “My husband surely left a bottle in the cupboard.”
“Ma ma ma ma ma ma,” Penelope blurted out, banging a wooden dolly against the bars of her crib, her mouth pursed in confusion.
Joshua chuckled, “You seen my woman lately?”
“I chatted with Tabitha and your brood just this morning at the market.” I replied with a smile, pouring the Captain a mug of ale.
“My Gideon, the baby, he’s the same age as Penelope. Though a mite friendlier, I must say,” Joshua winked at me as I handed over the cup.
I perched my hands on my hips, “Penelope is just a lady of discerning tastes.”
“You mean poor Gideon will have a hard time asking her to courting someday. Especially with that icy look she be giving us-“
Joshua’s lighthearted jesting halted as another pounding came at the front door. We stared at each other in hard silence. The pulse was so defeaning in my ears, I thought I would faint.
“Ma ma ma ma,” Penelope chattered before chewing on the edge of her crib.
“Upstairs,” My voice was tremulous but hushed, “The attic door is in the linen cabinet, you'll have to climb the shelves.”
Joshua nodded wordlessly, the Captain’s face paling in pain as he helped him to his feet. I stayed where I was at the fire and watched them climb the narrow stairs to the second floor. The banging came again.
I scooped up Penelope this time, if anything just to settle my nerves. She grasped her dolly under her arm. The candleflame wavered on the table in the front hall as I opened the door.
“Mistress Pierpont?”
I tried not to look too relieved. If it had to be a redcoat, at least it was Captain Bertram. Middle aged and kindly, he had often complimented me on the brilliance of my daughter’s eyes. He had a reputation for being easy going.
“Captain?” I stepped back, “Is everything alright? What are you doing out in the rain?”
“I hate to bother you like this but may we come in?”
I swallowed but gave a genuine smile, “Of course, please do! Come in out of the cold!” Captain Bertram with two of his men entered, their white powdered wigs dusted with rain. I led them into the kitchen, “I am sorry, I do not have a parlor fire lit-“
“No, no. Don’t apologize,” The Captain smiled handsomely, the crinkles around his hazel eyes deepening. His men eyed the room as though they were about to tear it apart in a frenzied search, “No doubt you weren’t expecting guests.”
By the grace of God, he didn’t know half the truth of that statement. Captain Bertram glanced over at the table. My heart lurched as I realized I had not put away the bottle of ale. Blood rushed to my face as the Captain arched a dark eyebrow at me. Thankfully, he mistook my look for embarrassment instead of fear.
“On a cold night like this, no one can blame even an upright lady as yourself for tippling something to warm the blood. After all, it is Guy Fawkes Night.” He smirked, seating himself in my husband’s chair at the table.
I chuckled, putting Penelope in her crib, “Please don’t think it’s a habit of mine-“
“I’d never dream it, madam.” He clicked his tongue, waving a hand dismissively.
“How can I help you this evening, Captain?” I asked, wanting to get to the point, “Can I offer you and your men some tea?”
He shook his head, his body relaxed as he studied me, “Please don't trouble yourself. We heard tell that there were some ruffians in this area. Banging on doors and such. Possible rebels though only God knows why they would be so obvious with their presence. Have you heard anything?”
I wet my lips, my brain racing with possible outcomes for any answer I would give, “Yes actually.”
Bertram leaned forward slightly, “They came here?”
“Yes, there were a couple of men banging at my door. But they weren’t rebels, just drunken ruffians as you said. Old friends of my husband’s actually. Guy Fawkes Night and all, you know. They were looking for Joel but didn’t know that he had-“ My voice trailed off as I glanced over at Penelope.
“That he’s left you two all alone.” Bertram’s tone rang with genuine pity. The sound made me nauseous, “Left you for a fruitless cause.”
“Yes,” I offered with a weak smile, my eyes flickering briefly over his face.
“The cad.”
I tried not to wince at his accusation but nodded, peering down at my hands folded demurely on my lap.
“I should take my leave of you, if all is well,” Bertram stood, motioning his men to the door.
I rose to my feet, keeping to my side of the table. With just the two of us in the room, and only Penelope as chaperon, the air was stifling, “Thank you for your concern.”
“And Mistress Pierpont,” Bertram lifted a hand towards me, his fingers drifting briefly over my elbow, “If you should ever be in need of anything at all, please let me know. Especially with winter coming on, you and your daughter will be provided for.” His eyes sought mine but I couldn’t meet them. His tone was too familiar and the room was getting hotter.
“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that.”
“Very well. I bid you good evening.” 733Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz5MKfkM6ab
“Good night,” I nodded in return, “God save the King.”733Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwpeFL9pczs
Giving a quick bow, the heels of his boots clicked against the floorboards. I remained cemented where I stood till I heard the door click closed. I rushed to the front hall and snapped the bolt into place, the nerves up my spine and under my scalp prickling. I rubbed my damp palms together and slowed my breathing, closing my eyes to the shadowy foyer.
“Ma ma ma ma ma,” Penelope called from the kitchen. 733Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4xCXMSO1hQ
A/N: So almost all the characters in this story except for a couple are based on real people in our lives. Pretty much everything is the same, just transferred back a couple hundred years. SO MUCH FUN. Thank you for such a great prompt!
ns 15.158.61.5da2
