Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedciation

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Copyright

Some fragrance stirred his brain, like a wisp of fog reaching out to him,

cooling and calming, to bathe away the feverish night horrors. Daniel raised an eyelid and realized it was Nancy’s hair, the clean-washed scent of her snuggled against his chest. She must have slept beside him to keep him from thrashing in the night, for her arms enfolded him still. She was awake, watching Trueblood build up the fire, waiting for him to wake up, as well.

He felt a strange reluctance to do so, to break the spell of her caring. Sleep was all he wanted so long as she was beside him, yet he greedily kept himself awake so as not to lose one moment of her nearness. He shut his eyes gently and concentrated on feeling the pressure of her hands, the feathering of her hair against his cheek….

Dear Reader,

Talented author Laurel Ames crosses the ocean to a young America for the setting of her newest book, Nancy Whiskey, the story of a daring British nurse and an American spy who discover love and adventure on a journey across the wilds of Pennsylvania, despite incredible hardships. Don’t miss this delightful tale from an author whom Affaire de Coeur describes as “…excitingly original….”

In Quicksilver’s Catch by USA Today bestselling author Mary McBride, a runaway heiress throws herself at the mercy of a tough-as-nails bounty hunter who is determined to make as much money as he can from their association, if she doesn’t drive him to drink first. And Margaret Moore’s The Rogue’s Return is the next installment in her MOST UNSUITABLE…series set in Victorian England. In this story, from one of our most popular authors, a devil-maycare nobleman finds redemption in the arms of a respectable woman.

Our fourth title for the month is Outlaw Wife by Ana Seymour, a bittersweet Western about the daughter of a notorious outlaw who loses her heart to the rancher who saves her from jail.

Whatever your tastes in reading, we hope you enjoy all of our books, available wherever Harlequin Historicals are sold.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Harlequin Reader Service

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Nancy Whiskey
Laurel Ames

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LAUREL AMES

Although Laurel Ames likes to write stories set in the early nineteenth century, she writes from personal experience. She and her husband live on a farm, complete with five horses, a log springhouse, carriage house and a smokehouse made of bricks kilned on the farm. Of her characters, Laurel says, “With the exception of the horses, my characters, both male and female; good and evil, all are me and no one else.”

For reenactors everywhere, who keep history and its lessons alive.

Prologue

Summer, 1793

“Nancy! You are back, finally, though I almost wish you had not come home”, Aunt Jane said, wringing her hands. “We might then have been able to put him off, even hide you from him.”

“Who? Reverend Bently?” Nancy asked distractedly as she set down her basket of medicines in the hall and undid the ties of her cloak.

“What? No, of course not. Your father has come.”

“But how is that possible?” Nancy asked, her blue eyes alight with excitement. “I thought he was dead.”

“He is sitting in the library drinking a whiskey and demanding to see you.”

“I must go to him, then.” She tucked her long blond hair behind her ears and smoothed her work gown.

“But he means to take you away with him.”

“To the army?” She looked expectantly at her diminutive aunt.

“Nancy, he means to carry you to America,” Jane said tearfully.

Nancy rushed into the library, torn between excitement and fear. The man she encountered was not what she had expected. He was old, for one thing, his face red-veined from a life of hard drinking, and at the moment, also suffused with anger.

“Ah, Nancy dearie”, he said, changing his scowl to a smile as he rose to embrace her. “Ye’ve the look o’ yer dear mother. I would have known ye anywhere.”

She looked to her uncle for confirmation that this was her father, and he nodded sadly.

“I do not understand,” she said, stepping back. “You are going to America? But there is no war in America.”

“No, but there’s land, Nancy, and opportunity fer an adventuresome man. I’ve left the army and I’ve a bit o’ money by me now. Tis my one chance fer a life. Ye mean ta say ye will nay come with me?” the Irishman pleaded in his lilting voice.

Nancy hesitated, all eyes upon her. Oddly, she thought not of her papa, whom she had never known, nor of her aunt and uncle who had raised her, but of the somber Reverend Bently, whose imminent marriage proposal she could now escape. She pictured him fuming at her departure. “Yes…I will come.”

“Wot did I tell ye? She’s a plucky lass, fer all ye’ve cosseted her like one o’ yer own. I’m not unmindful o’ that, and I thank ye heartily, but she’s my dotter when all’s said and done, and I’ve a right ta have her by me in me last years.”

As this impassioned speech put an end to all argument, even from Nancy’s now-tearful aunt, Nancy fled upstairs to pack her trunks and fend off the questions of her younger cousins about her coming journey.

Chapter One

It was night, and Daniel Tallent was hanging over the heaving side of the Little Sarah, feeling rather unwell, when he noticed Nancy Riley come through the companionway door onto the rain-slicked deck. Though she was bundled in a cloak, he knew her, for she was the only woman on board the merchant ship. He was about to call a warning to her when she made her way to the opposite rail by the expedient of having the ship lurch and throw her there. He shouted to her, but the wind beat the words back at him. So he waited for the ship to wallow again before crabbing his way across the deck to grab her.

“Let go of me!” Nancy shouted, slapping him. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Why in God’s name have you come out in a squall like this?” Daniel demanded, keeping his tenacious hold on her arm. “You could be swept overboard.”

“I wanted some air,” she shouted over the roar of the wind.

“Air? Air? Are you mad? This isn’t Hyde Park, where you can take the air when you please. Now come below.”

She opened her mouth to answer him, but was silenced by a cold wave that drenched them both and left her gasping.

“The next time she rolls to port make a run for the hatch,” he ordered.

Nancy nodded, but the ship pitched them so violently toward the rail it knocked the wind out of them, and it was all they could do to hang on. A huge man loomed over Nancy then, put an arm around her waist and whisked her across the deck to the companionway, thrusting open the door and holding it against the wind as Nancy made her way down the stairs. Trueblood turned to look for Daniel, but his brother collided with him and they more or less tumbled down the companionway in a heap, carrying Nancy to the bottom.

“In here,” Trueblood ordered. Giving her no time to protest, he pushed Nancy into a cabin and onto a cot. Daniel crawled back up the steps to secure the door, then followed them in and fumbled with a light.

“Well, Daniel,” Trueblood drawled in a deep voice, “are you going to light the lamp or not?”

“I am trying, but are you sure it is a good idea? If we break it, we could roast alive in here.”

“I am too wet to catch fire,” Nancy offered, ringing water out of her cloak, then looking apologetically at the puddle it made on the floor as the lamp cast a glow over her slim form. She noticed Daniel staring blatantly at the thin gown that clung to her, so she pulled the dripping cloak shut again.

Then she stared with fascination at Trueblood’s large form crouched in the small cabin. They had been sitting at table together for weeks, but he looked immense in the small sleeping cabin the Tallent brothers shared. Also, his straight black hair, loosed from its normal neat queue, gave him a more sinister appearance. Trueblood must have sensed he was looming, for he sat on the other cot, and Daniel slid down onto the floor.

Daniel looked more appealing than usual for being completely drenched. His shorter hair clung to his brow in wet strands or curled against his neck, and those thick eyelashes set off the blue of his eyes in a heart-stopping way. He was not a small man by any means, but he was dwarfed by Trueblood. Anyone else might have thought Trueblood the older, but Nancy knew the lines of care around Daniel’s eyes placed him at least a decade beyond her three and twenty years.

“Well, Daniel, did you get rid of what was disagreeing with you?” Trueblood asked with his usual condescension.

“No, for you are still here.”

“I meant the salt pork.”

“No, it is still lying in my stomach like a cold lump.”

“I was being very foolish. You saved my life,” Nancy said to both of them.

“I have had a lot of practice,” Trueblood said, stealing the compliment as he glanced at his brother.

“I would have managed it, eventually,” Daniel said defensively. “And whatever made you go up on deck in weather like this?”

“The same thing that drove you there,” she replied. “My cabin seems to be full of vile odors, I suppose from the bilgewater being stirred up. It was almost too much for me. And Papa’s cabin is worse, for he has been sick since the storm began.”

“Are you sure it is not the rum rather than the weather?” Daniel asked as he stripped off his soaked coat in the confined space, revealing his hard-muscled frame through the wet cloth of his shirt.

“No…” Nancy faltered, trying to regain control of herself. “That’s rather forward of you.”

“Forgive my brother, child,” Trueblood said gently. “He was raised in the colonies and never had any pretensions to manners. Whereas I went to Oxford.”

“They are not colonies anymore, but a country, as you well know,” Daniel countered.

“Of course, Daniel. At least they pretend to be a country. But with all the petty bickering and. backbiting, not a country I hold out a great deal of hope for.”

“Why did you fight beside me then?”

“Hush, Daniel. I suppose we are not very alike for brothers, even half brothers.”

“Ah, but you argue like brothers, so appearances make no matter. And it was not the rum, for Papa can, in the ordinary way, drink like a fish with no ill effects.” Nancy shivered a little, then clamped her pale lips shut so that the men would not notice. “I must go back to my cabin now or I will catch my death of cold.”

“Let me escort you across the hall,” Trueblood said as he stood up to offer his arm, almost stepping on Daniel, who scrambled up and inhaled to let them past him. Her cabin was no more than two steps away, but Nancy took his arm anyway, with a nod gracious enough to match Trueblood’s manners. Somehow his playacting stole away the horror of almost having been washed overboard. But she had not been swept into the cold sea, so she decided not to dwell on it.

“Well, Daniel, not a very propitious encounter,” Trueblood said on his return to the cabin, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement.

“And Miss Nancy Riley is as much of an enigma as ever,” Daniel answered as he stripped off the rest of his wet clothes and managed to dry himself, though the tossing ship thrust him from bed to wall a dozen times. He was wondering how Nancy could possibly manage and wished he could help her.

“Does everything have to be a mystery to you?”

“She is far too genteel a lady to be traveling with a rough soldier. I cannot believe he is her father. Have you seen the way she blushes sometimes at meals at the language he uses?” Daniel pulled on dry breeches and a shirt, leaving his damp hair tousled.

“That has nothing to say to anything. Any woman might blush who must dine with half-a-dozen men, and Sergeant Riley is not the only one who forgets to guard his tongue. That trader Dupree sneaks in some very rude comments in his French, and they make her blush more than anything her father says.”

“I must know her story or I cannot be easy in my mind about her.”

“What are you thinking?” Trueblood whispered with a twinkle in his eyes. “That she is a spy, like you?”

“Of course not. I only want to make sure she travels with the man willingly, and I do not know how to broach the subject”. Daniel stripped the wet blanket off the bed and stretched out upon the narrow mattress.

“Simply ask her. Riley does not hang about her neck. When he is not off playing cards with that Canadian, Dupree, he is so drunk he pays no attention to her.”

“Yes, Riley is as thick as thieves with Dupree.”

“Who else has he to talk to with you ignoring him and me looking down my nose at him?”

“And Dupree, taking ship with us at the last moment like that,” Daniel whispered. “I think he may be on to me.

“Well, Daniel,” Trueblood said in a quiet voice, “why did you stay in Washington’s employ if you are to be forever looking over your shoulder?”

“You did not think performing secret services such a bad life those last years of the Revolution.”

“It paid well, and someone had to keep you from getting shot or hanged.”

“You did not care about the money any more than I did. I still don’t care about it. We make plenty on trade alone.”

“Why do you do it then, little brother?” Trueblood asked.

“What else do I have? You can go back to Champfreys. Your mother wants you home. She said so in her last letter.”

“As I recall, she begged you to come home as well.”

“Not until Father admits he was wrong, and he will never do that.”

“The war has been over a long time. If Father was a Loyalist then, he is not now. You do not have to keep playing the rebel all your life.”

“That is not why I bolted,” Daniel almost shouted.

“Why then?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Secrets even from me, Daniel?”

“Do not ask, Trueblood,” Daniel begged in anguish as he closed his eyes. “It was not true, what he accused me of. That is all I can say.”

“I believe you, little brother. But it has been sixteen years, half your life, since you left. Most likely he has forgotten what he said to drive you away.”

“Ah, but I have not.”

“So you remain in service, Captain Tallent, ununiformed, unappreciated and a prey to every suspicion that flits across your mind.”

“What will become of Nancy if Riley gambles away all his money before we reach Philadelphia?” Daniel had put his arms behind his head and was now staring intently at the bulkhead, his blue eyes troubled.

“Daniel, you can take on the affairs of a whole country if you want, but you cannot save every orphan and stray dog in it.”

“I know. She just seems so particularly defenseless.”

“I have a suggestion.”

“I know, mind my own business.” He rolled onto his side and buried his head in the pillow.

“Why don’t you just ask her about her circumstances?”

“At which point she will accuse me of being forward again. You would love that. You seem to take more than a passing interest in her yourself.”

“Good manners should never be mistaken for selfinterest. I really am not trying to cut you out with her.”

“But you always seem to be there to leap into the breach when I have made a misstep.”

“If we are speaking of the Loyalist lady, she was using you, Daniel.”

“Her loyalty to the rebellion was never in question” “Precisely. Her interest in you had only to do with flag and country.”

“That’s not the way I remember it,” Daniel said as he drifted toward sleep. When his breathing became regular, Trueblood threw a blanket over him and got out a book to read in the uncertain light from the lamp.

Daniel was at the rail the next morning, feeling rather better since he had foregone breakfast. The rock and creak of the ship was restful, the rush of water against the Sarah’s side benign in contrast to the previous night. When Nancy came on deck she pointedly ignored him, and he looked away, remembering the slap. But one of his furtive glances in her direction caught her looking at him, and she smiled, so he made his way over to her.

“How is your father?” Daniel asked.

“Better, now that the weather is fair and the wind is causing no more than a gentle roll to the ship.”

“I am not much of a sailor myself.”

“I love it,” she said, taking a deep breath and smiling. “I never thought I would set foot outside of Somerset.”

“You don’t seem as though—I mean, you seem so gently bred. I would almost take you for…”

“For a lady?” Nancy asked in amusement.

“I did not mean anything by it, but there is such a contrast between you and your father.”

“Not unlike the disparity between you and Trueblood.”

“I had that coming.”

“If I am not prying, why Trueblood’?”

“His mother named him. He carries the blood of the great Oneida, Shenandoah, in his veins.”

“Shenandoah.” Nancy pronounced it wistfully. “What a musical name.”

“A legendary Indian chief who brought corn to the starving troops at Valley Forge. Though Trueblood and I are only half brothers and ‘not much alike,’ we are very close. Now, if I am not prying, why is there such a difference between you and your father?”

“I was raised by my aunt and uncle. I never saw my father until last month, when he came for me. It is strange. I have waited for him all my life, waited for him to come and take me away to wars in strange lands. I have taught myself everything I imagined a soldier’s daughter should know. But now that it is really happening, I find I cannot quite believe it.”

“And the strange land he is taking you to is America. What does he mean to do there?”

“He speaks of buying an inn.”

“He may do well for himself then.”

“If he does not drink all the profits.”

“Where does he mean to settle?”

“Pittsburgh.”

“I lead pack trains to Pittsburgh,” Daniel said eagerly, his eyes alight. “Perhaps we can travel together. If you need temporary lodgings in Philadelphia, I am well known at Cook’s Hotel there. Until you decide what you mean to do, it is as good a place to stay as any.”

“I should be glad for your advice. I did not mean to sound so angry last night. I did not know how much danger I was in.”

“It doesn’t matter. I have been slapped before.”

“Indeed? With good reason?”

“How am I to answer that?”

“Carefully. I am quite sure Trueblood would be able to turn this conversation to his advantage. I have scarcely ever seen so much social adroitness packed into one person, albeit a large one.”

Daniel gaped at her and then smiled appreciatively. “You have his measure, then.”

“I do not mean to offend you. Your brother has been most kind to me, besides helping to save my life. But I always find myself wondering what is going on behind those dark eyes.”

“A great deal, I assure you.”

“If I were a hostess, I would always invite Trueblood, for I would know I could depend on him to handle any social disaster that might arise, or at least, dispose of it skillfully.”

“But you would not invite me,” Daniel concluded, his eyebrows furrowed delectably.

“Oh, yes, I would, for one always needs a brooding, mysterious man about.”

“To create the sort of social disasters Trueblood is adept at handling.”

“You make an admirable pair. I am sure the English ladies adored you.”

“We were invited everywhere, but then Trueblood has many friends in England. Do you entertain much in Somerset?”

“My aunt does. She could have turned me into a nanny for the children, but she raised me almost like a daughter.”

“Rather terrible of your father to tear you away.” Daniel tried to sound regretful.

“I assure you he came just in the nick of time,” Nancy replied with an impish smile.

“What?” asked Daniel, who had been watching for the dimple that lurked at the left corner of her mouth.

“I lived in momentary dread of Reverend Bently making an offer for my hand. Both Aunt and Uncle seemed to think I would make an admirable wife for a man of the cloth, seeing as I have a bent for nursing.”

“And like a dutiful and grateful niece, you would have accepted him.”

“Oh, I don’t know. If I could not have thought of a way out of it. But it does seem so often, when I am in the most desperate straits, that a solution will pop into my head from nowhere.”

“Desperate straits?”

“He nearly proposed to me one Sunday, but I fainted.”

“But how do you know then—”

“I didn’t really faint, of course, but only pretended so I would not have to accept or refuse.”

“That bad, is he?”

“I have no particular aversion to Oliver Bently. He is rather more than twice my age, but he is not ugly by any means. There is only this, that having regarded him as my spiritual leader, I could not imagine myself crawling into bed with him.”

Daniel broke into laughter, and Nancy admired the way his blue eyes lit when the corners crinkled.

“It is nearly time for the midday meal, if I am counting the bells aright,” she said of the muffled clanging. “Would you be kind enough to lead me in, sir?”

“I would be honored, Miss Riley.” Daniel took her arm with great ceremony.

“What do you suppose is the correct protocol for a stairway that is little more than ladder? Shall I go first so as not to expose my ankles?”

“No, I must go first. In case you should fall, I will catch you.”

“We will try it your way. I am sure when I query Trueblood he will say the opposite of whatever you have done.”

“Undoubtedly, Miss Riley.”

They were expecting to see land within the hour, and Nancy had been hugging the rail to get the first possible glimpse, her golden hair licked about by the wind. She was not used to being idle, so the whole trip had been in the nature of a tour for her, though the hardships of being confined with little privacy, frequently tossed about a small cabin and fed on boiled peas and salted meat would not have seemed a treat to many young women.

“Trueblood,” Daniel shouted from the deck to his brother perched in the rigging, “do you see anything?”

Trueblood turned from his scrutiny of the horizon. “A ship,” he called down through cupped hands, risking a fall from the ratlines, where he clung by his legs.

“What flag?” the captain called, handing a telescope to a seaman and sending him climbing the lines to the top of the mainmast.

“I cannot make it out,” Trueblood shouted.

Even before the answer came the captain began giving orders, and sailors scurried aloft to let out more sail, while others began to load the deck guns. They had only two sixpounders and a bow chaser, besides the stern guns, none of them much use if they were being pursued by a warship.

“French, sir”, the seaman called down.

“Damn!” the captain said, and he turned to Daniel. “I’ll have to ask you to take Miss Riley below. We won’t give up without a fight.”

“No, I won’t go,” she protested, pulling away from Daniel’s grasp and going back to the rail.

He came to stand beside her, watching the frigate overtake them with alarming speed and wondering what inducement he could offer to get Nancy below hatches. “We are very much in the way here. If we hinder these seamen in their work, we may face capture.”

As the captain sent crewmen hurrying to load the carronades in the stern, Daniel pulled Nancy across the deck. The enemy ship loomed larger and a warning shot passed across the bow of the Little Sarah but the captain ignored it.

“Daniel, why are they firing on us?”

“This is a British ship.”

“But we are in American waters.”

“A moot point if they capture us. Now, stop struggling and come below where it is a little safer.”

The second shot passed over the deck and caught a luckless sailor. Nancy gaped as blood spattered in all directions and his headless trunk fell to the deck. She could not even insist that she should stay to render aid. The man was obviously beyond help.

Daniel followed her down the companionway ladder. “Stay low, lower than the bed,” he warned her as he thrust her into her cabin and pulled a crate against the outside of her door. Ignoring her shouting and pounding, he joined Trueblood on deck to help reload and aim one of the carronades, freeing the gun crew to climb aloft and help let out more sail. The privateer had their range already. Its next volley of shots could sink them. But the Little Sarah had turned tail and headed south. The back of the ship presented a smaller target, of course, but a more vulnerable one. And they were heading away from Delaware Bay. Both men knew that a heavily laden merchant had little chance of escaping a fast warship.

“Try for the rigging!” Trueblood shouted above the roar of fire from the other ship.

“That is all we can hope for, to hurt their steering. We cannot do any real damage.”

Daniel held the gun steady and shouted now for Trueblood to touch the piece of smoldering hemp to the fuse.

The small shot carried away a few lines and put a hole in one sail. Meanwhile the privateer’s bow chasers splintered the mounting of the Sarah’s rudder. The brothers looked at each other hopelessly as the ship started to drift.

A cannonball through the mizzenmast sent splinters into a half-dozen screaming men and brought the whole twisted load of sail and lines down on top of the Tallents.

“Ouch,” Daniel yelped, as Trueblood freed him from the tangle. “Damn, a splinter in my leg.”

Trueblood tied his handkerchief tightly above the wound on his brother’s thigh and said, “Do not—”

Before he could finish the warning, Daniel had pulled the object out. His leg bled furiously then, but he scrambled to his feet.

The frigate had come up on their side and now laid a shot into the hull near the waterline. Only this convinced the captain to have the signal for surrender run up. They would have had to retrim and lay the ship over to get a patch on the hole or they would not have been able to pump fast enough to keep the vessel from sinking. There was no way for the battle to continue.

“You brothers and the Canadian are safe enough,” the captain said to the Tallents, “but what is to become of Riley and his daughter I do not know.”

“We shall think of something,” Daniel said as he hopped toward the companionway door, his only thought now of rescuing Nancy. Trueblood helped him down the ladder.

Nancy was still pounding and pushing against her door. “Daniel, let me out! I had rather drown in the open sea than be shut up down here like a rat!”

They ignored her. “Give me that packet you are carrying, Daniel.”

“Right. We shall have to weight it and toss it over.”

“If you can take care of Miss Riley, I’ll go over the side with it. The thing is sealed with wax, is it not?”

“Yes, but you cannot possibly stay concealed.”

“Of course I can. We are not more than a few hours from port.”

“No, I will do it.”

“Daniel!” Nancy threatened when she heard them talking. “If you do not let me out this instant, I shall make you sorry.”

They pulled the crate away and freed Nancy. Her father lay asleep on his bunk when they opened the door to check, but Dupree was not below decks.

“Daniel, you are bleeding,” she said, her anger dissipated now that she saw he was hurt. She pulled a roll of lint out of her inner pocket and forced her hands to stop shaking. What was the point of panic now, when she had something to do? She knelt to run the bandage around his leg over his beeches. There would be time to clean the wound later. For now she must get the bleeding stopped.

“It is nothing,” he said, wincing at the strength with which she tightened the dressing and tied it off. It occurred to Daniel that probably only Nancy carried an entire medical kit in the pocket tied around her waist under her skirts.

“Nancy, dear, can you speak French?” Trueblood asked.

“Yes, of course. I thought it might be useful.” She finished her work and rose to support Daniel under one arm. Now that she did not feel so helpless, her confidence was flowing back. Besides, if they were really sinking, Trueblood and Daniel would not be standing here calmly arguing over a packet.

“No decision then, Daniel. If Nancy can speak French, you do not need me,” Trueblood concluded, then went to fetch an oilskin packet from their cabin.

“It is my packet. It should be my swim,” Daniel argued, trying to wrest the object away from his brother, who was already thrusting it inside his shirt. They all lurched as the ship shuddered and reeled.

Nancy turned a beseeching look on Daniel and he hugged her to him.

“No time. We are being boarded. Do not attempt to wrestle me for it, little brother. You will never win in your present condition. You take care of Nancy.”

“Where is he going?” Nancy demanded as Trueblood slipped into the captain’s cabin.

“Out the window and over the side,” Daniel answered.

“But we are not even in sight of land.”

“He will not try to swim for it. He will just cling to the ship until we are close to shore. With this damage they will make for Philadelphia immediately.”

“What if he cannot fit out the window?”

“I had not thought of that. Trueblood will manage something.” A crash and the sound of splintering glass came reassuringly from the cabin. “Nancy, listen to me. We do not know what will happen to you, since you are English. I want you to tell them you are my indentured servant. The worst that can befall your father is to be taken as a prisoner of war.”

“What? But he has left the army.”

“He still wears the uniform, and your papers say you are English, not Irish.”

“And why would an indentured servant speak French?” she demanded, loosening herself from his grasp as many feet thumped on the deck and orders were issued above, their heads in that foreign tongue.

“I am trying to protect you, and it is the best I can think of,” said Daniel as he tried to keep his balance.

“It is a stupid plan, Daniel. I can think of something better than that. Now get out of my way. I may be needed up there to bind wounds or to translate.” She pushed him away, causing him to hop and collide with the wall.

“If I had a ring,” he called after her desperately, “I would say you are my wife.”

She turned with a startled expression on her face.

“Well, you act the part of a shrewish wife to perfection.”

Then she smiled at him, not desperate or frightened anymore, but with the impish grin that almost convinced him she was now enjoying herself. The last he saw of her was her shapely ankles, until he crawled up the ladder to find her negotiating the terms of their surrender with a rather handsome French captain.

With a sail patching her bow hole, and a cobbledtogether rudder, the Little Sarah made port with the English crew below hatches and a prize crew from the Embuscade in charge. Nancy, Daniel and the wounded were allowed to remain on deck, since they seemed harmless enough, and Nancy, apparently, had asked the French privateer if they could. The captain of the pilot boat that guided them up the Delaware seemed to ignore her shouted recriminations against the French ship that followed them. Nancy was preparing a withering testimony against their captors, for she had, with Daniel’s aid, been bandaging some ghastly wounds, and she now recalled the beheaded seaman.

“What is going on, Daniel?” she asked of the commotion at the docks. “Why would they be cheering a French pirate?”

“The American public is rather fickle, and the new French ambassador, Genet, has taken the city by storm, or so I hear.”

“But this is disgusting.”

“It would be politic not to say so.”

She looked belligerently at him, but the worry in his eyes assured her compliance, for he did look so appealing when he was hard-pressed.

“Daniel,” she whispered. “What about Trueblood? The French pirate knew he was on board, for he asked specifically where he was.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That he was taken over the side by the cannon fire.”

“Did he believe you?”

“I think so.”

“I saw him swim to an American cutter an hour ago, while we were being guided up the channel.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Now, if we can just get safe on shore.”

The British crew, including their wounded, were ferried to the docks in a lighter and given their freedom. Daniel refused to go with them. On the quay the English captain had a one-sided discussion with the French privateer, pointing to Nancy, where she stood at the rail with Daniel. Two French seamen tried to part Daniel from her, and he resisted, until Nancy cast a stream of oaths at them that set them back on their heels. The French captain grinned and motioned his men away. He had himself rowed back to the prize and boarded it, and now took Nancy’s hand in such an obvious offer of protection that it took both seamen to restrain Daniel from attacking him.

Nancy did not cringe, but answered him quite volubly, causing a crease to appear between his brows. A snapped order brought seamen scurrying with the Rileys’ trunks and those from the Tallents’ cabin. Nancy’s baggage was pulled open and her store of herbs and salves discovered. Another rapid interchange in French ensued as she knelt to repack her precious medicines.

To Daniel’s utter surprise, the baggage was all piled into the lighter and Nancy was helped down into the boat. He was left to hand himself down into the tippy vessel as best he could. He had to shove over onto the seat by Nancy to make way for her father, who still looked blearily drunk and scarcely aware of what was going on.

“Whatever did you say to him?” Daniel demanded as they were rowed to the quay.

“I’ll tell you later”, Nancy said, stroking his cheek with one small hand and looking at him fondly. This was done so much for the Frenchman’s benefit that the effect was quite spoiled for Daniel. He struggled onto the dock and pulled Nancy up beside him.

Trueblood was there in different clothes, to help her father up and unload their belongings. He looked rather surprised to see them released so expeditiously.

“You are rather damp, Trueblood,” Nancy chided. “You may catch cold over this.”

“I do not think so,” he said with a wink to Daniel.

“All safe then?” Daniel asked.

Trueblood nodded.

“Let us go home then,” Daniel said with a sigh of relief. “By the by, just what did you say to that fellow that got us dumped on the dock, bag and baggage?”

“Porter, here!” Trueblood commanded to a cartman, who came to load their effects, including Sergeant Riley.

“I don’t think I will tell you.”

“Whatever it was, it fairly shocked the captain.”

“Probably because he did not realize you have a mistress in keeping.”

“But I have not—By all that is holy, you never told him you were my mistress.”

Trueblood chuckled at Daniel’s discomfort.

“I will thank you to lower your voice so as not to make it common knowledge,” Nancy warned, her small chin coming up in mock resentment.

“That does not account for his eyes bulging in that way, or for him thrusting us and ours from the ship as though we were a couple of lepers.”

“No, that was when I told him I needed my herbs for my cure.”

“But—but you are not ill,” Daniel sputtered.

“Oh yes I am, with the pox.”

“What?” Daniel staggered into Trueblood.

“Not really, but I thought it would hasten our departure. Daniel, do not gape so. For you do not yet know.”

Trueblood was by now losing a valiant struggle to contain his guffaws.

“I have shocked you,” Nancy surmised.

“Of course you have shocked me,” Daniel shouted. “A girl of your tender years should not know anything about such matters.”

“Forgive Daniel,” Trueblood gasped. “He has a habit of underestimating women.”

“How is he unique in that respect?”

“Touché,” Trueblood countered. “I wish you would take Nancy home, Daniel, before you say something indiscreet. I will see to the baggage.”

“Something indiscreet?” Daniel shouted.

“Also, the very sight of your aghast face is going to send me into a fit of the giggles and the game will be up.”

“And you thought my plan was stupid,” Daniel grumbled in an outraged undertone as they followed the cart with the sleeping Riley away from the hubbub of the dock. “What if that officer had been a victim of the same disease himself? He might have kept you on board to care for him.”

“I had not considered that,” countered Nancy, taking his arm and compressing her lips in thought. “But then I could have given him some really vile medicine and still he would have wanted rid of me.”

“Is there no end to your invention?”

“I have always prepared myself for any disaster. During a battle one must have bandages ready at hand. I would assume one must sleep dressed ready to travel. I have drilled, you see, to be able to wake up and flee or fight at a moment’s notice. I know I was not much use in the beginning, but it was my first battle, Daniel. Did I account myself so very ill?”

He softened at the hopefulness in her young face. “I suppose not. Another woman might have swooned.”

“That would have been singularly useless, for then the pirate might have carried me to the captain’s cabin. Though, of course, I would fit through the window once Trueblood broke it, so I suppose I could have gotten away no matter what.”

“And if he had tied you?”

“I carry a knife in my stocking.”

“Is there nothing that would daunt you?” Daniel asked sternly.

“But Daniel! This was an adventure! I have been preparing for such things all my life. Think how gratifying it is to realize it has not all been in vain, that I can take effective action in an emergency.”

“You enjoyed all this?”

“No, not that man dying, of course, but the rest of it was not so bad. And I feel sure you would have enjoyed it, too, if your leg had not been aching.”

“My leg is fine. It was having you to care for that worried me,” he blustered.

“Well, now you see there was no need.”

“I grant that you slid though this situation on sheer gall and luck, but you have no idea what awaits you next.”

“Yes, isn’t it exciting?”

Daniel groaned.

Chapter Two

Cook’s Hotel was a formidable brick house half-a-dozen blocks from Water Street, with a pair of ornate hitching posts by the front door and a fenced garden in the rear. Mrs. Cook was able to offer Nancy and her father one small room, though Nancy doubted they would have been admitted at all if not for Trueblood vouching for them and then helping her father up the stairs, over Mrs. Cook’s suspicious questions about his indisposition.

“Miss Riley may have Trueblood’s room for her use, and Trueblood can share with me,” Daniel told Mrs. Cook, taking that buxom lady aback with these high-handed orders.

“Why do you offer Trueblood’s room?” Nancy asked, before Mrs. Cook could protest.

“Because Daniel knows there are any number of disgusting saddle packs in his room,” Trueblood said, as he came down the stairs. “Also, mine has an excellent view of the river and a number of volumes on plants I hope you will avail yourself of.”

“But I cannot put you out. It looks to me as though this is your home.”

“I assure you, the invitation was on my lips as well, and it would have been a more gracious one than what Daniel ripped out with. But he was always one to rush headlong, unheedful of giving offense.”

“You make it difficult for me to refuse”, Nancy said ruefully, looking from one brother to the other, then to her bemused hostess.

“Do not, I beg you.” Trueblood bowed and kissed her hand, winning a satisfied smile from Mrs. Cook and a glare from Daniel.

“I suppose it will only be for a few days, until Papa decides what he means to do.”

“Well, now that’s all settled,” Mrs. Cook interrupted, to keep Daniel from replying. “How about a nice cup of tea in the parlor before dinner?”

“Let me help you,” Nancy offered, wanting to make sure she had an entrée to the kitchen.

“That’s very kind of you, but I have got two girls to help me, empty-headed though they may be,” Mrs. Cook said as she shepherded Nancy out. “I shall be glad of some female company at table rather than rough seamen or worse.” She cast a disparaging look at Daniel as they exited, and Nancy’s chuckle was lost in the bowels of the house.

Trueblood helped the limping Daniel up the stairs.

“Nancy said that French privateer pointedly asked where you were,” Daniel whispered. Once Trueblood had pulled the door shut behind them Daniel dropped down onto the bed.

“I caught a glimpse of Dupree on the French ship,” Trueblood answered, searching Daniel’s bureau and finally discovering a worn shirt, which he quickly reduced to bandages. “He did not seem best pleased to see me. But the privateer captain gave me a salute, the sort of gesture one reserves for a worthy opponent.” Trueblood demonstrated to Daniel.

“So I was right about Dupree.”

“Possibly, or Dupree may have been making new friends. He is, after all, French-Canadian.”

“Don’t be so gullible, Trueblood.”

“Just a counterweight to your suspicious nature, Daniel. The packet is in your trunk. Do you want me to take it round for you?”

“No need. It is no more than a few minutes walk.” Daniel got up with a grunt.

“Suit yourself, but you do look a sight.”

“I’ll change first.”

“A fresh bandage would not come amiss, either.”

“Oh, very well, but be quick about it.”

“Where is Daniel?” Mrs. Cook demanded when she came into the sitting room with the tea tray.

“He had an appointment,” Trueblood said, and received a skeptical look from Nancy, who was following her hostess with a plate of cakes.

“And on that leg,” Mrs. Cook scolded as she poured each of them a cup of tea.

“So long as no splinter remains in the wound, it were better it had some exercise to keep from stiffening up,” Nancy replied as she seated herself and looked contentedly around at the polished cherry furniture and cozy chairs. She was wearing a crisp white apron to hide the blood spatters on her gown, “Fancy having an appointment across all those miles of ocean and to arrive within an hour of the time.” She glanced at Trueblood over her teacup.

“All business, is our Daniel,” Trueblood countered before he gulped his tea and reached for the cake.

“Ah, yes, you are traders. How could I have forgotten?”

“We run pack trains of dry goods overland to Pittsburgh and bring back whiskey or furs.”

“Oh, I see, the main part of your business is not with England then. Is it worth it?”

Trueblood passed over her first remark to answer, “Not according to Daniel, but I find so much to interest me in the way of plants I would enjoy the trip even if we made nothing.”

“We were discussing herbs on the ship,” Nancy confided to Mrs. Cook. “But I had thought Trueblood’s interest entirely culinary.”

“Trueblood knows a great deal about healing herbs, as well,” Mrs. Cook said with a nod of approval.

“I have brought some dried ones from home—fennel, mint, tansy and the like. Also some seed. But I know nothing about what I might find growing here.”

“European herbs were introduced so long ago only my people know which ones are native,” Trueblood said proudly. “That is why I have been cataloging them and describing their uses. I have been told I can draw, so I have illustrated a volume to be published in London.”

“Oh, so that was why you were in England,” Nancy said, as though this were a matter of great concern to her.

“Yes, that was it.” Trueblood downed another cake.

“You should see his drawings.” Mrs. Cook beamed as she refilled Trueblood’s cup.

“We have many plants in common now, of course,” Trueblood continued. “Comfrey, foxglove, mint, yarrow…”

“Is there a place to come by a supply of Peruvian bark and some rhubarb, as well? I have not much with me.”

“I can get you a supply of Peruvian bark at the apothecary’s shop,” Trueblood volunteered.

“I have rhubarb in my garden, dear,” Mrs. Cook replied.

“Are you indeed practiced enough in the healing arts to use such things?” Trueblood enquired.

“Oh yes. You see, I have always thought my father would take me off to war with him, so I have studied all manner of fevers and know how to treat wounds. But in Somerset, most of the time I was called on to attend birthings. I must say, I like that better than illnesses, for usually the outcome is good even if the woman has had a difficult time.”

“It does not frighten you, being unmarried and all?” Mrs. Cook asked in a confidential tone.

“It did at first, but the people there are poor. If they had any money they would spend it on food, not on an apothecary. They never blame me if someone does not recover. They know I have done my best.”

“So you have lost…patients?” Trueblood asked, staring at her with those penetrating dark eyes.

“Three. Two mothers to fever and one baby, but he was short-term. I doubt anyone could have saved him,” Nancy said sadly.

“We have seen nothing like the yellow fever that has seized upon the city this summer,” Mrs. Cook offered.

“Describe the symptoms to me,” Nancy prompted as she took a sip of tea. “I have heard of it and had thought it no more than another sort of ague.”

“Violent fever and delirium, and the poor sufferer turns all yellow. That’s why they call it the yellow fever.”

“Jaundice? That is not consistent with the ague.”

Trueblood had been about to pick up another cake when Mrs. Cook continued, “The worst part comes when they start to vomit up the black blood, pints of it….”

“Internal ruptures, then. How many survive?” Nancy asked between bites of cake.

Trueblood decided against the cake and merely stirred his tea.

“Depends how hard they are taken with it. I know many who have survived.”

“I should like to talk to them. Do you suppose an application of leeches—”

Trueblood dropped his spoon into his saucer with a clatter. “Excuse me, I just remembered a pressing errand.” He exited the room and closed the door softly behind him.

“You know, I do not believe he was feeling quite well,” Nancy confided to Mrs. Cook.

“Possibly the sea voyage. Or it may take him a few days to adjust to our climate again.”

“Hmm,” Nancy said, thinking of Trueblood’s exertions of the past hours and why a discussion of illness would bother him. She could only think he did not like to mix such things with his food, which he plainly enjoyed. She would remember that. She wondered if Daniel had to play second best to Trueblood everywhere; Mrs. Cook clearly held the younger brother in more esteem. Nancy supposed so, since Daniel took the slights with resignation rather than resentment, almost as though it did not matter, in the face of more important issues. And what could be so important? That packet surely was not just commercial papers. Daniel was an extremely complex man and Trueblood was merely a part of his disguise, a distraction for anyone who might suspect he was up to something. She let her mind wander pleasantly over all the things she imagined Daniel might be up to.

Daniel had been admitted to a prosperous-looking house on York Street, then let into the library by a retainer who knew him on sight. As the room was empty, Daniel seated himself, then stood with a groan and proceeded to pace the room. Trueblood had bandaged his leg tightly again, but the wound looked to have broken open from the walking, for there was a growing bloodstain on his clean breeches. He was just applying another handkerchief to this when a middle-aged man entered the room and came to shake his hand.

“Daniel, good to see you. Why the devil are you limping?”

“Hello, Norton. Our ship was captured by a French privateer. I took a splinter.”

“God’s death. That was close. Is your brother all right?”

“Fine. Yourself?” Daniel sat with a grunt, as Norton motioned him to a chair.

“I had the yellow fever last month,” Norton said as he poured them each a brandy from the decanter on his desk. He handed a crystal goblet to Daniel. “Not a bad case by all accounts, but it nearly did me in. Tell me what is going forward in England.” Norton pulled his desk chair around to face Daniel.

“Little of interest to us, and except for a certain street in London, little climate for inciting rebellion on the American frontier.”

“You are assuming Britain has some control over the situation. They can no more control Canada at this great distance than they could control us. Witness Dorchester’s inflammatory speech to the Indians.”

“The English are as surprised by the antics of the Governor General of Canada as we are.” Daniel took a swallow of brandy. “They might not be unhappy if he did manage to incite the tribes to harass us. They will even turn a blind eye to the encroachment of Canadian forts on American soil, but will not, I think, go so far as to declare war.”

“Not yet, anyway, so long as we are neutral and the balance of trade with us is favorable.”

“I really think they make more profit off of us now that they bear no responsibility for us.”

“They certainly do off the shipping they capture and confiscate. That, too, could lead us into war if we are caught between two belligerent sea powers.” Norton glanced at Daniel’s leg. “Have you any unofficial dispatches?”

“Yes, here. I hope they are worth Trueblood’s swim, but I could not afford to be caught with them.”

Norton chuckled and plied his letter opener. “You are quite a pair, you and Trueblood. It would be a load off my mind if the British were planning nothing. Then I would have only the Canadians, the French and the Spanish to worry about. We believe they are all causing unrest on the frontier.”

“Perhaps even Secretary of State Hamilton,” Daniel suggested.

“Hamilton may be short-sighted, but the money for the war debts must come from somewhere. The whiskey tax is necessary. But is the tax the only cause of unrest? That is the question,” Norton added, breaking the seal on the first dispatch and tossing the paper aside after a quick perusal.

“The Canadians have always supplied the Indians with weapons. There is no need to further incite them. Watching their land being nibbled away takes care of that.”

“I see. You empathize with the natives as well. Trueblood’s influence?”

“No. This was not exactly a Garden of Eden before white men landed. We have merely given the native populations a common enemy.”

“Or the Canadians have,” Norton said, scanning the next letter and tossing it aside. He rose to pour them each another brandy.

“Prime Minister Pitt maintains that Britain wants peace.”

“But what do the Canadians want?” Norton asked as he paced to the window, his frock coat gracefully slapping his thighs. “Simcoe seems a very unstable fellow to me.”

“The governor of Upper Canada is afraid we’ll encroach on his territory, hence all the forts.”

“That’s what makes him dangerous.” Norton unrolled a map overtop of the letters. “There is even some talk of a secret agreement between the Canadians and Spanish now that Britain and Spain are allies again. With enough support they could split the country along the Appalachians and all the wealth of the interior would flow right down the river valley and out of American hands.”

Daniel limped over to the desk. “There may be some temptation there. All the frontiersmen want access to New Orleans, but it will take more support and organization than what I have heretofore seen.”

“So much for the British and the Spanish.”

Daniel took a swallow and felt a satisfying burn, along with a numbing of the pain in his leg. “Where do we stand with the French now that they have declared war on England again?”

“Citizen Genet is causing a stir. The Federalists want nothing to do with him and the Republicans fawn on him.”

“And you?”

Norton sat tiredly. “A reserved cordiality. He is, after all, the French ambassador, no matter how flamboyant. Besides, there is more to be learned from a man who does not regard you as an antagonist. Would you like to meet him? I should admire to know what you think of him.” Norton took up his pen with renewed energy.

“If you can arrange a casual introduction.”

“Come to dinner here tomorrow at seven o’clock,” the older man said, scratching a note to himself. “Brace yourself to be opportuned to contribute money toward their revolution, seeing as how they gave us so much support.”

Daniel laughed. “I will come. I am not easily imposed upon.”

“Too bad you are not married. Two of you will put the numbers out—your brother will be invited, too, of course. But Elise will manage something.”

“Something? Either a whey-faced chit who spends the whole evening blushing into her plate, or some spinster. I’ll find my own dinner companion, thank you.”

“Not another actress, Daniel.” Norton looked sharply at him. “You know what happened last time—”

“No, a lady. She is newly arrived from England. Do not look at me like that. I met her on the way over on the ship.”

“Of course, Daniel.”

“Well, she is a lady and will take the shine out of any of the women in this town—except Elise, of course.”

“I am saying nothing. Bring your paragon, by all means. I would be interested to meet a woman who has not washed her hands of you after knowing you for more than a few weeks.”

Daniel had been busy most of the day obtaining the latest news, while Trueblood tended to their warehouse. Daniel returned with scarcely enough time to wash and change into clean linens and breeches. Someone had laid out his clothes and brushed and pressed his swallowtail coat.

When Nancy walked down the stairs, Trueblood smiled knowingly and Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. She was dressed in a peach silk gown of the latest fashion, with an ivory underdress edged in lace. A tiny knot of silk roses was tucked between her breasts at the top of her stomacher, and her hair, a natural honey blond, was swept up high on her head, with two long ringlets hanging down in back to caress her neck.

“Are you disappointed, Daniel?” Trueblood drawled as he took the lace shawl she held and placed it carefully around her shoulders.

“No, I am quite satisfied,” Daniel said as he took possession of Nancy’s arm and conducted her from the house and down the street, forcing Trueblood to walk on the other side of her.

“I take it your expectations were that I would turn up in a stuff gown and a pair of brogues.”

“Now you are making game of me,” Daniel said. “I could wish you would smile rather than scowl at me. It makes you look fatigued.”

Nancy glared at him, since she had still to drag any real compliment from him. “As it happens, I am fatigued. Father invited home that Canadian, Dupree, and they played cards all night.”

“Are you sure it was Dupree? Did you see him?” Daniel asked, almost pulling her into the street in the path of a carriage.

“No,” Nancy said, hauling back on his arm until the way was clear, “but I have heard them talk together often enough on the ship to recognize his voice.”

“What did he have to say for himself?” Daniel asked casually.

“Try as I might, even by holding a glass to the wall, I could not make out the words”, Nancy said in mock seriousness.

Daniel had opened his mouth to resume his interrogation when Trueblood burst out laughing. “She really is making game of you now, Daniel.”

“Which would not be to my credit even if it were a challenge,” Nancy replied. “Sorry, Daniel.”

He shook his head. “Bad enough I have Trueblood carping at me. If you are to start as well…”

“But you interrogate me about the man for no reason. If you want me to spy on him—”

“No! I do not want you to have anything to do with him.” Daniel took a tighter grip on her arm.

“Well, I do not particularly like him. I keep thinking he is after father’s prize money, if he has not got it already.”

“Yes, so do I,” Daniel alibied. “That is the only reason I was concerned.”

Nancy slanted a skeptical look at Trueblood, who shrugged. Then she turned her innocent face to Daniel. “Then you think I have a right to keep an eye on Dupree— in a very subtle way, of course.”

“Dupree may be exactly what he appears,” Trueblood said, taking Nancy’s other arm and drawing her away from Daniel.

“Which is what?” Nancy demanded. “It strikes me as odd that such a rough man, one moreover who claims to be a fur trader, should be in England.”

Daniel glanced menacingly at Trueblood and dropped back to study Nancy from behind. He had suddenly lost all interest in Dupree and why the fellow had been in England. Even under the plumped-up side panniers of her polonaise gown, Nancy presented a trim figure and was.attracting a deal of attention on the street. One of Daniel’s acquaintances tipped his hat to her from horseback, getting a nod from Trueblood and a scowl from Daniel in return for his knowing grin.

Daniel envied the one curl that had slipped around her neck and was glad Nancy did not hold with the old style of powdering her hair. Nothing should take the sheen out of those curls. Though he had little interest in fashion, he was a purveyor of cloth and had bought and sold enough in England and America to realize her dress was expensive. She should stay in Philadelphia and go to the theater, not be dragged to some crude frontier settlement where there were few civilized women and the men were all dangerous. He must think of a way.

At Norton’s house, Daniel sprinted up the steps and was surprised to be greeted by Elise herself. Her flame red hair shone in the last rays of the sun and her green silk gown embraced her like a lover.

“Daniel, you have come alone after all,” she complained.

“No, Miss Riley is with me.” He reached down and firmly took Nancy’s arm, drawing her up the last few steps to stand beside him.

Elise invited Nancy in, making her feel welcome. Daniel cuffed Trueblood on the shoulder as they jostled each other in the doorway, but drew no more than a smirk from him.

“I hope we are not to disappoint you,” Elise said, “for Genet is not here yet and I will not hold dinner for him. Come, have some of your brandy.”

Elise, Nancy and the daughters of the house, Penelope and Mary, were intimately occupied for a time with a discussion of fashion and hair. Nancy thought both girls showed future promise as belles of the town, but that neither would surpass their mother’s beauty with her striking cast of hair. Though Nancy proclaimed herself a country dowd compared to London ladies, Elise graciously asserted she was closer to the pulse of the fashionable world than they in their backwater.

Trueblood was drawn into the conversation to give his opinion on the comparative merits of the open polonaise over the round gown, so that Daniel had a chance to convey to Norton his concerns over the Canadian, Dupree.

“I shall set a man on to follow him.”

“I can manage it for the next few days,” Daniel offered.

“You are too well known to him. If he has indeed detected your mission, your illustrious career may be at an end, Daniel.”

“In other words I had best play the blockish merchant with intensity.”

“To the hilt.”

“It will not be difficult, with both Nancy and Trueblood cutting at me.”

“I have seen that look before, Daniel.”

“What look?”

“You are like a leashed dog whose bone has rolled just beyond his reach, watching another hound about to make off with it.”

“Sorry, I will try to contain myself.”

“No, do not. Jealousy becomes you. Just do not lose your head.”

“I shall be hard put not to make a serious blunder tonight.”

Norton did ask Elise to put dinner back, resulting, Nancy thought, in Daniel having one brandy too many. Or was that a ruse? Genet made a late appearance and apologized too profusely for his tardiness. Nancy had thought he looked French, with those sensual lips of his, even before he opened his mouth. Trueblood cast a tolerant eye upon him, while Daniel consulted his watch with a blank look. It was like a mask, Nancy thought, that face Daniel put on for company. No, not company—For an enemy. It was interesting to her that the voluble Trueblood, flanked by the daughters, was seated across from Genet, who had Daniel on his right and her on his left. Mr. and Mrs. Norton observed the party from either end of the elaborately laid table.

Had Daniel been across from Genet, that might have set them against each other as opponents. A man is more apt to trust a man at his side. How Nancy knew this she did not bother to consider. She had been at enough dinner parties to draw her conclusions from observation, setting aside her considerable instinct. Daniel had all the leisure in the world to observe Genet covertly, she thought, with that half-drunken smile loosely worn to shield himself from Genet’s gaze.

Elise stirred uncomfortably, and it occurred to Nancy that the lady must think she had been looking critically at her table settings. “Such a lovely service of china, Mrs. Norton. I have been racking my mind to discover the pattern, which looks familiar. But if I ever knew it, I have forgotten.”

“Why, thank you. It is a special order from Sheffield. It was a present from Daniel and Trueblood, a rather belated wedding gift.”

“It was a rather belated wedding,” Norton put in, causing his wife to blush.

Norton was not drunk either, Nancy concluded, but he was doing a good imitation of it.

They spoke of china and other elegances, the cost of obtaining them in America, and moved thence to trade, the deficit, America’s debts to France, her apparent inability to pay. Daniel tsked over this, but could see no ready solution. He seemed such a selfish, complacent man even to Nancy, and she knew better.

If Daniel wanted to get something from Genet, she thought, he was going the long way about it. “I did particularly want to meet you,” Nancy said to Genet. “You were so late, I feared I would miss the opportunity.”

“And what a loss it would have been for both of us, Miss Riley,” Genet leaned toward her to say. “You must let me explain the reason for my tardiness. I had business at the harbor. An English merchant ship has been brought in by the Embuscade and I was inspecting her. She will be recommissioned La Petite Démocrate.” Genet raised his glass as if he were making a toast.

“I prefer the Little Sarah,” Nancy said, taking a bite of capon.

“You know the ship?” Genet asked in pleasant surprise.

“I was on it.” Nancy took another bite while Genet fumbled with his wine.

“A passenger?”

“Yes, until that pirate bore down and nearly sank us. You should speak to him about such lawlessness. It makes a very bad impression.”

Genet gaped, as though a housewife had admonished him for his son throwing rocks at her chickens, then began to spout excuses in French, which she heard with only half an ear.

Nancy saw Daniel’s eyes glitter with amusement, not brandy. He was neither drunk nor trapped. That meant Genet was here for Daniel’s benefit, not the reverse. So this Norton was involved with Daniel and Trueblood more than socially. Well, if Daniel hoped to learn something from Genet, she had to throw them together as allies.

“Vous comprendez? He is a privateer, not a pirate,” the ambassador was saying. “The ship was taken in the name of the Republic of France.”

“Privateer? Is that the French word for pirate, the way embuscade means ambush?”

“Non, non, I say. He was commissioned by my government. You must understand, we are at war with England.”

“France is always at war with England. That is no excuse for accosting civilians on the high seas. One sailor had his head taken off by a cannonball, and I would not be surprised if some of the wounded did not die from those vicious splinters. Daniel himself took a bad one. And poor Trueblood was knocked overboard.”

“Monsieurs, forgive me for any inconvenience,” Genet said over the shocked gasps of the other ladies.

“Inconvenience!” Nancy repeated in apparent astonishment.

Both Tallents made deprecating noises, as though the whole incident were forgotten.

“Mais oui, I forget, you are a woman. What do you know of such matters?”

“Apparently a great deal more than you. I was there. Even making allowance for them being French, I found your countrymen crude and offensive.”

“Making allowance?” Genet sputtered.

Elise had turned away to bite her lip. Trueblood had his face buried in his wineglass, and Nancy thought she could detect bubbles. The girls looked expectantly at their father, who seemed oblivious to Genet’s discomfort. In desperation Genet turned to Daniel, who shrugged in sympathy.

“Monsieur, you were on that ship. Surely you did not regard it as an inhumane act?”

“Why, no, luck of the draw, I would say.”

“Was any disrespect shown to this woman?”

“Now that you.mention it, the seamen did search her baggage, and you know how women are with their laces and…such.” Daniel fluttered his fingers to indicate, Nancy supposed, frilly undergarments. “I expect that is why Miss Riley has taken such a pet. To have strange hands mauling her finery…” Daniel shuddered.

The daughters gasped even more at this ugly thought.

“Dirty hands they were, as well. Not to mention the language. I am quite certain the captain made an indecent proposal to me,” Nancy said, nailing Genet with a menacing stare.

“Why, I do not comprehend how this misunderstanding could have happened. The captain said the only woman on board was a—a…”

“Yes, go on,” Nancy prompted, her lips parted in expectation.

“Non, forgive me. I am sure he misread the entire situation. But he implied you were fluent in French.”

“I speak it, of course, but not the crude jargon of sailors. I think I made them understand me, but I could not follow half of what they said, and no one appreciates being insulted in a foreign tongue,” she said, disregarding her own brutal attack on Genet.

“Well, that is a blessing, if you did not understand. Even so, allow me to submit my most humble apologies.”

“Apologies? What good are your apologies now? I want your assurance that such an event will not occur again”

“Impossible!”

“Ah, I see, you have no influence.”

“Quoi?”

“No power with your government.”

“Non—oui! I have power to act for my government.”

“Ah, you could do the right thing, but you will not.”

“La Petite Démocrate will sail under the French flag as soon as she may be refitted,” Genet said angrily.

“A grave mistake, I assure you, sir. For the first English ship it encounters will blow it out of the water.”

“They will not even know.”

“Once my letters reach England, they will. Though, now that I come to think of it, I should perhaps protest to the American government, as well. Trueblood, who is the American equivalent to our foreign secretary?”

Trueblood rolled his eyes in mock reflection, keeping his mouth tightly compressed.

“Oh, never mind,” Nancy said. “I will write to the president. He will know who to forward the letter to.”

“President Washington?” Genet asked in a panic.

Nancy saw Daniel’s eyes flash at her in delight. Norton sat immobile, his chin resting on his fist as he gazed at her in fascination.

“I believe the ladies will withdraw now,” Elise said with a prim smile, “and leave the gentlemen to their wine.”

“Mon Dieu, you do not really—” Genet broke off as the women whisked out of the room.

“A trifle more wine?” Daniel asked Genet, and filled his glass unbidden. The French ambassador drank deeply.

“Will she really…?”

“Perhaps I may be able to talk her out of it,” Trueblood offered dubiously.

“I doubt it, brother.” Daniel shook his head slowly. “She is a bit more headstrong than the English ladies you are used to. A loose cannon is what she is. Best keep your distance so you do not get blasted.”

“My apologies, Monsieur Genet,” Norton offered. “I had no idea the young lady would take things so amiss.”

“Ah, I was forgetting.” Genet tapped his forehead. “She is English. That explains it. An American lady would never take offense at our privateers.”

“No!” the three men murmured in unison, shaking their heads and relaxing into a camaraderie of sex against sex.

“Unless, of course, she happened to be on an English ship,” Trueblood offered.

“Yes.” Daniel sighed sadly. “Those are the dangers of getting civilians involved in a war. One has no idea of the ramifications.”

“But I apologized. Why would she not accept my apology?”

“I doubt there is any way to conciliate a woman whose undergarments have been mauled,” Daniel said sagely, “whether she was in them or not.”

Norton coughed and Trueblood turned to the sideboard to reach for a decanter of brandy. “Vraiment? But I am the French ambassador, Citizen Genet, and she made me feel such a…such a maladroit.”

“Do not give it another thought,” Daniel said, thumping him on the back. “It happens to me all the time. Besides, it will never leave this room.”

“No,” the others murmured in assent.

When the gentlemen came into the parlor, Daniel glanced toward the door, and Nancy rose on that cue to thank the Nortons and take her leave of them. Genet, emboldened by the wine, came forward with another profuse, but tangled apology, swirling his French and English together like brandy and water in a glass. Nancy retrieved her hand and said, “I will…I will consider it.”

They were not half a block from the Nortons when Trueblood’s mirth bubbled over to the point where he had to lean against a hitching post for support.

“Daniel, I do believe you have let Trueblood drink too much.”

“I keep forgetting these Indians cannot hold their liquor,” said Daniel, taking him in tow.

“Daniel, have you ever seen the like?” Trueblood gasped. “I believe she could have had Genet on his knees if she had tried.”

“And to a sergeant’s daughter,” Daniel taunted. “A lady would have graciously accepted his apology.”

“That did cross my mind. After all, he is an ambassador. But then I remembered he is French. Even a sergeant’s daughter must have some standards.”

Daniel cracked into laughter and took her hand to draw it through his arm. “You will be wasted on the frontier, Nancy. Stay in Philadelphia.”

“I am sure it would be more amusing, but I am a person who is used to employment. On that we will never agree, I know,” she said as his grip on her arm tightened. “So it is very much better if-1 go where we cannot argue about it”.

“Would you like to go to the theater tomorrow?” Daniel asked abruptly, interrupting Trueblood and causing Nancy to shake her head in despair. “They have just built a theater on Chestnut Street.”

“I thought perhaps you were not best pleased with me tonight,” Nancy returned.

“I put you in an awkward situation,” Daniel said.

She cocked her head at him. It was not an apology. She decided if she were waiting for him to admit she had been some help to him she would wait in vain.

“You did not mind my making sport of Genet, then?”

Daniel’s eyes glittered again, but only in amusement, not conspiracy. “I want to make it up to you.”

“So tomorrow I am not to impress anyone or taunt anyone?”

“No, it will be for your pleasure alone. Do you want to take Trueblood for propriety?”

“No, you are harmless enough.”

Trueblood chuckled, but Daniel cast Nancy such a skeptical look she thought she would pay for that remark.

“And who is that?” Nancy asked for the tenth time.

“That is Ellis, a banker. He handles my affairs. That is his wife with him and his eldest daughter….” Daniel trailed off. Sitting in a chair next to Nancy, he was being distracted by her low, square-cut neckline and the way her stays displayed the tops of her breasts over the lace trim of her ivory silk gown.

“You seem very well connected in Philadelphia.”

“What? Oh, they all receive me for Trueblood’s sake.”

“You do not have to put on a performance for me.”

“Why, Nancy, I do not know what you mean.”

“You know very well—Oh, look, there is Genet. Daniel, this is too bad of him. He has the French pirate with him. And who is the other man?”

“By report, I would say it is Andre Michaux, the botanist.”

“Like Trueblood.”

“Yes, but by vocation only. What are you going to do? Looking daggers at them will only make them laugh at you.”

“I think you are right. My instinct tells me that, as well. I think I will have a wonderful time and forget all about them.”

“Not even acknowledge them?” Daniel whispered in her ear.

Nancy looked up at the men in the box, then gave a delicious laugh and turned back to Daniel. “Will he think you have mollified me?”

“They are whispering. Clearly the captain still believes you are my mistress, and Genet is trying to convince him he is a fool.”

“Oh, good, now we can enjoy the play and they cannot.”

And they did enjoy it. Nancy could not remember such an intoxicating evening in her whole life. Even the grandest of her aunt’s parties could not hold a candle to the theater, and with such an amiable companion. He took possession of her hand quite naturally and kept it cradled between his own throughout the evening. He leaned to whisper comments in her ear, making her giggle, and he breathed on her neck in the most seductive way, causing an occasional shocked gasp behind them. It did occur to her that he might only be trying to convince the French captain that they were indeed lovers, but she rather thought Daniel’s attraction to her was genuine. He was a subtle man, but she had an instinct for the genuine article and thought he was being himself tonight.

As they walked home Daniel took her fan and plied it. The warm breaths of air were like caresses. “I’m glad you came with me tonight, for I must go away for a while.”

“Away? To sea?”

“No, to Pittsburgh. I shall be gone five or six weeks, two months at the outside.”

“I was forgetting, that is your business. I expect I will be gone by the time you get back. This might be the last we see of each other for a while. I will miss you—both of you.”

“Trueblood is not coming. He has business here for the time being.” Daniel ceased his fanning.

“I see.” Nancy watched his profile as he walked arm in arm with her, trying to decide what she could say to him to let him know she wanted to see him again.

“I—I suppose you will be thrown together a great deal, especially since you have the same interests, those confounded plants.”

“Yes, I suppose we will,” she teased.

“I need not warn you—I mean he is a perfect gentleman. That is…” Daniel stopped and turned to her. His face looked dark against the white of his cravat, but his blue eyes caught the gleam of the moonlight.

“Does he come between you and many women?”

“Yes—no, not many. Hah, there is no good answer to that poser. You have a knack for asking such questions.”

“Yes, ones I already know the answer to.”

“If he wishes, he can charm any woman he chooses.” Daniel looked desperate and hungry for her.

“Not any woman.”

He dropped her fan, and when they both bent for it, they collided. She was in his arms and he was lifting her up and kissing her, suddenly, in the most ravenous way. As though in a dream, she had hold of the back of his coat and was letting him, more than letting him. He was not at all like Reverend Bently. His mouth was possessive and urgent, his arms demanding, his eyes wonderfully alive.

“Daniel, we must not,” she whispered between kisses, trying to think rationally.

“Why not?” he gasped as he bent lower to kiss her neck.

She had never felt so wonderfully vulnerable in her life. “We are in the middle of the street. We could get run over.”

“Then come into the alley.”

She laughed at his solution as he pulled her into the dark shelter of a doorway. “And in a few weeks I shall be on the frontier and you…At best we will only get to see each other a half-dozen times a year.”

“Unless you were to stay in Philadelphia,” he countered, nuzzling her earlobe to the point where she could scarcely think straight.

“Daniel, I must go with Papa, at least for a while. He has brought me all this way to be with him.”

“Promise me you will stay at Mrs. Cook’s at least until I return.”

“Daniel, I cannot. I do not know what I am doing.” He released her, nodded sadly and took her arm again in the most calm manner. There they left it. Had his impulsive lovemaking been by way of convincing her to do his bidding? Perhaps she could not read him as well as she thought. There was just the chance that he had very nearly found a way to confuse her into compliance. She would rather believe him merely impulsive. All she knew was that, if he had offered her marriage, she did not think her shortlived devotion to her father would have been proof against such a temptation. But he had not…or could not. Whatever he was doing in Pittsburgh, she thought, it had naught to do with trade goods.

The next morning Daniel was interspersing his packing with instructions for Trueblood, who made an occasional note with his pencil as he reclined on the bed reading. Even prone, he made an impressive figure.

“I have been to the docks, Daniel. They are beginning to refit Little Sarah, and Genet is openly recruiting in the newspapers.”

“Then he is trampling all over Washington’s statement of neutrality.”

“The secretary of state is lodging a protest. President Washington is going to ask to have Genet recalled.”

“That is good news, at any rate. I wonder if Genet will think our Nancy had anything to do with it?”

“Daniel?”

“Hmm?” Daniel closed one leather saddle pack and strapped it shut.

“About Nancy. She could be very useful to us.”

“I do not want her involved in this mess any further than she already is.”

“Then why did you invite her to dine with Genet?”

“I do not know. It was only that I wanted her to see that Philadelphia is civilized. I had no idea she would go on the attack.”

“What were you expecting, Daniel?”

“That Genet would be distracted enough by Nancy to ignore us.”

“He was certainly that, but you might have guessed from her performance on the docks that Nancy would not simply sit back and be an object of admiration.”

“But that was an extraordinary happening—an adventure for her. I thought that she would behave herself at an ordinary dinner.”

“I have a better reading of her character than that.”

“I had assumed she had some company manners.”

“Admit it, Daniel—you miscalculated. Consequently you ended by dragging her into a highly charged political situation.”

“Dragging her? There was no way on earth to stop her.”

“You underestimated her, Daniel,” Trueblood said, wagging a finger at him.

Daniel sighed and ceased his distracted packing to sit on the bed. “Yes, I know that now.”

“If you intend to stay in this line of work, with me assisting you, Nancy could be very helpful to us, if one of us were to marry her.”

“If you take advantage of my absence to get in her good graces—” Daniel rose to shout accusingly at his brother.

“I was going to offer to go to Pittsburgh in your stead,” Trueblood interrupted.

“No. It is my job. I should not even have let you carry that packet.”

“I was thinking of your wound.”

“A scratch. Besides, you get lost going across town. If you missed one river you would overshoot the city entirely.”

Trueblood lay back and put his hands under his head. “She reminds me a bit of the Loyalist lady. What do you think?”

“Who? Oh.” Daniel thought for a moment, his outraged expression softening to one of abstraction. “No, not at all.”

Chapter Three

Trueblood and Nancy came in the kitchen entrance to Mrs. Cook’s, Nancy carrying her basketful of lemons and packets from the apothecary shop, and Trueblood burdened with parcels from the butcher’s.

“I thought this was supposed to be a free country where a person could speak her mind,” Nancy argued. She plunked the basket on the table, tore at the ribbons on her bonnet and tossed the headgear carelessly aside.

“Not on the public street and not in front of a crowd sympathetic to Genet. Had I not been with you, I do not know what would have happened to you,” Trueblood returned.

Mrs. Cook held her finger to her lips, warning them that the ill maids were asleep.

“It is stupid, this worship for a man who is no better than a pirate himself. Fitting up privateers, indeed!” Nancy whispered urgently.

“I cannot like the way you speak out in public against Genet, not with this French mania that has seized the people of Philadelphia. Washington himself is not safe from them.”

“I give him a lot of credit for not fleeing the city,” Mrs. Cook said, wagging her head as she stirred a kettle on the huge iron crane overhanging the fire.

“Were he to do so the government itself might fall,” Trueblood said.

“Washington has the courage to stand his ground,” Nancy declared as she removed a kettle of steaming water from one of the hearth trivets.

“He is the president. It is his job to take abuse.”

“Should I rather lie and pretend to favor this stupid talk of war with England?”

“Nancy, dear,” Mrs. Cook interjected, trying to mediate. “Are you sure you do not feel this way because you have so lately come from England?”

“Well, of course, I still have loyalties to England. That is no small part of my abhorrence for the present insanity. But looking at it objectively, it is stupid for a country to be drawn into a conflict where no offense has been given to it and there is nothing to be gained from fighting.”

“Hold whatever views you like.” Trueblood shook his finger at her. “Simply do not speak of them in the street.”

Nancy shrugged and began to unload her basket. She neither wished to argue with Trueblood nor discomfit him, but she had a certain contempt for his powerless state where she was concerned. If Daniel had caught her taunting a mob of street rabble he would have…What? She contemplated the prospect of him tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her home, and was disturbed that the fantasy held so much appeal for her.

“Nancy, why are you so quiet?” Trueblood asked with foreboding.

“There is no point in talking to you while you are angry,” she said, measuring some herbs into the teapot and adding hot water.

“I am not angry with you. I am afraid for you.”

“I would not concern myself if I were you. If things go on as they have been, this Philadelphia rabble will succumb to a force more powerful than France, England and America combined.”

“Yes, the yellow fever is getting worse by the day,” Mrs. Cook agreed.

“Another reason you should keep to the house, since you are unwilling to take refuge outside the city,” Trueblood argued.

“Not if there is work to be done here.”

“Daniel would be extremely displeased.”

“What has Daniel to say in the matter?” she asked with a pretense of coldness as she began to slice the lemons.

“He left me with the admonition to take care of you.”

“I should not be your responsibility, either.”

“Nevertheless—”

“Stir this, Trueblood,” Mrs. Cook commanded as she went to check on the invalids.

Trueblood obeyed distractedly. “Nevertheless, Daniel asked it of me and I have never failed him.”

“Really? Never?”

Trueblood thought for a moment, then turned an irritated gaze upon her. “Nancy, do not try to distract me.”

“Where do you suppose he -is now?” Nancy asked aloud. As often as she posed the question to Mrs. Cook, the kitchen maids or even the wall, Trueblood never failed to answer if he was within hearing.

“He has been gone a month. Most likely he is on his way back by now.”

“You say he made it there and back in as little as a month?” Nancy asked, as though Daniel’s arrival put a time limit on how long she had to cure the yellow-fever epidemic.

“And never more than six weeks.”

She sat down on the kitchen stool and stared wistfully out the window. “Is it a very dangerous trip?”

“Not anymore.”

“I know I should not worry about him. How many times has he made the trip?”

“Not more than fifty. Whereas your father has never done it before. Here he has gone off with Dupree, and you have never asked after his safety.” Nancy turned and smiled at him. “What an unnatural daughter I am.”

“If we are speaking of unnatural, Riley wrests you from your home, dumps you on a foreign shore and leaves you to fend for yourself, and with precious little money, is my guess.”

“Oh, I have some of my own. Uncle gave me all the gold and silver coin he had by him. He reckoned it would be enough to buy my passage home if I should need to.”

“In other words he had your father’s measure. I hope you keep it in a safe place.”

“It is sewn into the hem of my best petticoat.”

“Good idea.”

“I got it from a soldier’s wife—the idea, not the petticoat. I have read over all your books again,” she said, pulling a volume across the table to her, “and there is nothing here to help with this yellow fever.”

“It would appear they either survive it or not.”

“Yes, and that there is precious little we can do.”

“So I have concluded.”

“If I should get the fever, Trueblood, I don’t wish to be bled. That is not the answer.”

“I will not let the leeches get you, Nancy girl. I still wish you would let me take you to Champfreys, in Maryland. My mother and sister would love to have you, and it would guarantee that Daniel would go home.”

“How could I leave Mrs. Cook in such a fix, with both her girls down with the fever?”

“Prudence is well nigh over it.”

“But not much use yet. If she overdoes it now, she may have a relapse, and Tibby is still in danger. Why in the summer, Trueblood?”

“What?”

“The fever. Why only in the summer?”

“Bad air from the swamps.”

“Why do we not all get it, then?”

“That may come.”

Nancy pushed the book shut in defeat, but the cover flopped open to the flyleaf. It was a gift from Sir Farnsbey at Oxford.

She wondered why Trueblood had been the one sent to school and not Daniel, until she recollected what had been going on then. The rift between Daniel and his father went as far back as ‘77, when the sixteen-year-old Daniel, according to Trueblood, had left home after a blazing argument with his father to join the rebel army. No doubt Trueblood had been shipped off to England to turn him into a staunch Loyalist and to remove him from Daniel’s influence. It had not worked, of course. For Trueblood had managed to get back into the country and rejoin Daniel by 1780. Now his greatest loyalty was to his brother, and that lent Daniel a great deal of credit in Nancy’s eyes. If only he valued himself as Trueblood did.

When Daniel wandered into the kitchen the next day, Nancy, Trueblood and Mrs. Cook were all so intently watching a kettle simmering upon a pile of coals on the hearth that they did not immediately perceive he was not the boy hired to cut wood until he did not deposit any in the box under the window.

“Daniel!” Nancy leaped up and ran to him. She had just enough command of herself to merely embrace him and pull him toward a chair at the table, rather than kiss him as she would have liked to do. “You look so tired. I have some soup hot over the fire. Sit down. Tell us about your journey.”

“Double, double toil and trouble,” Daniel chanted as he sat down tiredly. “Fire burn and cauldron bubble.”

Nancy laughed as she carried a steaming pot to the table and got down a bowl. “I suppose we do look like a trio of witches stirring a most unpromising brew.”

“I sincerely hope that is not what you are planning on feeding me, for the reek of it reached me halfway down the street.”

“Not unless you feel yourself to be coming down with the fever, for it is a rather potent purgative.”

“I was hoping this house had been spared. Trueblood, you should have taken Miss Riley away from here.” Daniel touched the chicken broth to his lips, then sipped it gratefully, looking about for bread just as Nancy pushed a loaf toward him.

“I did suggest it, little brother.”

“How could you think I would desert Mrs. Cook?”

“Not you, too, mistress?” Daniel paused to look his landlady over thoughtfully.

“Yes, but I am better now. It was Nancy and Trueblood who pulled me through it. Prudence as well.”

“Now if we can just save Tibby,” Nancy said, going to stare at the infusion in the kettle.

“Since it appears that those who survive are those through whom it passes the quickest, your idea of purging it may make the most sense,” Trueblood said. “But why intersperse the doses of rhubarb with the Peruvian bark?”

“Only because it works for the ague. And I cannot believe the two diseases are unrelated. The symptoms vary, but the causes are the same.”

“The fetid swamps,” Mrs. Cook said, drawing the great wooden spoon out and sniffing it.

“Do you mind?” Daniel asked.

“Sorry, Daniel. Are we disgusting you?” Nancy went and got a chunk of cooked beef from the larder and sliced it for him. He laid a thick piece on his bread and ate the two with one hand while he dipped up soup with the other. It made Nancy wonder how long he had gone without eating, and if he had done so to hurry back to her. She sat down to stare at him and only realized she must be smiling vacantly when he spoke with his mouth full.

“Yes. Moreover, I think you are enjoying mucking about with your herbs.”

“I am not. I would rather no one ever got sick.”

“But it gives you a great deal of importance when they do.” Daniel tore another chunk off the loaf of bread.

“That’s not true. I only want to feel useful. Someone must take care of the sick.”

“I am surprised you have not hired yourself out to the hospitals.” Since this pronouncement produced a dead silence, Daniel could only think that Nancy had been performing some such service. “If that isn’t the outside of enough.” His fist hit the table. “Well, pack your bags, Miss Riley. I am about to escort you to meet your esteemed papa.”

“I will not be hauled away like a child.”

“Even if he sent for you?”

“You have seen him?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes, and he commissioned me to take you to Pittsburgh. He has bought an inn. Not much of one, but I take it he is in need of someone to manage it.”

“Manage it? Me? But what is he doing?”

“Running the still.”

“Oh, yes, of course. When do we set out?”

“Two days, if I can manage it.”

“But that is plenty of time. By then Prudence will be able to help nurse Tibby.”

“How convenient for you.” Daniel wolfed the rest of his food and retired to his room, leaving Nancy and Trueblood in the kitchen, writing out their cures for Mrs. Cook.

“Damn!” Nancy said impatiently as she stepped out of one shoe and looked back to see it mired in the crossing. She hopped precariously on one foot, holding up her plain work skirt with the hand carrying the basket as she turned and reached down to pull the shoe free without muddying her stocking. Suddenly she was scooped up by a strong pair of arms, and was just about to raise her voice in complaint when she realized it was Daniel. She did not hit him with the muddy shoe, but wrapped her arm about his neck instead.

“When I recommended these lodgings to you, I did not think you meant to hire yourself out as a servant to Mrs. Cook.”

“What on earth do you mean? I have only been helping since the maids have been ill. You can put me down now.” Nancy stared about her to see if she knew any of the pedestrians.

“If I do you will only go on about the marketing. I am taking you back to Mrs. Cook’s.”

“But that is where I was going. I was just leaving a fever medicine at the Nortons’.”

Daniel hesitated. “Is one of them ill?”

“One of the servants. Your friend has sent Elise and the girls to his plantation. He even offered to send me there for a visit.”

“Which you declined in your high-handed way, I suppose.” Daniel continued carrying her along the pathway, oblivious to stares from what few people still dared walk the streets.

“I wish you would put me down, Daniel,” Nancy said, but without conviction. “You are causing a spectacle.”

“Nothing like the spectacle of you exposing yourself up to the knee to fetch that shoe out of the mud.”

“A gentleman would not have looked.”

“Any man would have looked, even one staggering about with the fever.”

“But what will people think?” Nancy asked, blushing at the backhanded compliment.

“That you have sprained your ankle. At least that is the story I suggest, but you are so inventive I am sure you can come up with something better.”

They were within a block of home, so she left off arguing and thought about the strong arms under her thighs and around her back. “Norton seemed surprised you had not been to see him yet,” she taunted.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing much, just raised one eyebrow in that way he has of indicating he cannot quite credit his senses.”

“I was on my way to see him now. I shall tell him you detained me.”

“I do not think that will surprise him,” Nancy said, somewhat gratified that Daniel thought her safety of more moment than reporting to Norton.

“What? Bye the bye, are you packed yet?”

“Daniel, I am always packed.”

“Yes, if the British attacked, you would be the only one poised to embark on a war. Here we are at Mrs. Cook’s. See that you are ready to leave on a moment’s notice.”

“Well, Daniel?” Norton asked a half hour later as Daniel stood brooding over a small glass of brandy.

“You sound like Trueblood.”

“That sounds like an accusation. I did not look for you for a week yet.”

“I got back late yesterday.”

“Rough trip?”

“Did you get any of my letters?”

“One. I swear, you may as well carry the mail. You do about as well as the post riders sometimes.”

“I dislike sending information that way.”

“You worry too much. It would never occur to the backwoods rabble that they have a spy among them. What pompous nonsense are they about now?”

“Well, they’ve burned one of the tax collectors,” Daniel said.

“What?”

“In effigy, that is.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Norton asked.

“Every inn and tavern is rife with talk of rebellion,” Daniel added.

“Then an insurrection is imminent.”

“Not immediately, and perhaps not at all, if something could be done to lessen the severity of the tax.”

“Quickly, you mean? Not likely. Most of the representatives have fled. The government is scattered from here to Virginia.”

“The president?”

“Will not leave, for the moment. It is the only thing preventing a mass exodus from the city.”

“Washington must be able to do something.”

“The law is the law. He cannot give any dispensations, even if he would. And the debts must be paid. Speaking of pay, when is the last time you had any money for your services?”

“I do not recall, but it does not matter. I never did it for that.”

“I have never been quite sure why you do it, Daniel. I am only glad that you do.”

“If only they had increased the taxes on imports it would have hit these rich city merchants in the purse, not the poor wretches on the frontier. They have nothing but the bit of whiskey they make. To tax it is inhuman, especially for the small producers.”

“Compassion for the enemy, Daniel? That is likely to get you killed.”

“They are not the enemy. They are our countrymen. Whether they remain so is another matter.”

“You have found something.”

“You remember us speaking of Dupree?”

“Yes.”

“He has met with Bradford—twice, to my knowledge.”

“Is Bradford in the pay of the French?”

“If he is they have most likely offered him something else.”

“What?”

“Possibly governorship of the area, once it is no longer part of America.”

“Do they mean to send troops?”

“I believe they mean to make the insurgents do all the killing themselves…and the dying.”

“Why do they need France then?”

“They do not, but they do not realize that. I am wondering if there are other Duprees at work up and down the length of the frontier.”

“Other than Michaux, the botanist, you mean? Do we have time to find out?”

“I suppose Trueblood and I could scour the frontier.”

“That would take too long. I think it a better use of your time to keep your finger on the pulse of Pittsburgh and surroundings, but I do not like to run you ragged going back and forth. Are you sure you cannot trust your dispatches to the mail?”

“I am taking Trueblood with me this time. One or the other of us can bring news.”

“Why did you not take him with you last time?”

“I had work for him here.”

“More important work than this?” Norton raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Daniel opened his mouth to protest that his brother no longer worked for the government, but Norton waved a hand and said, “Do not explain. I have a feeling I know what you are going to say. Spare me.”

Nancy pulled the candle across the large kitchen table and reread the letter from her aunt, who urged her, at the slightest inconvenience, to use the money her uncle had given her to book passage on the next returning ship. Nancy only hoped that Aunt Jane never found out that her ship had been captured by a privateer and that she had been nursing yellow-fever victims. A fine adventure and some useful experience, but aunts never saw such things that way. England was so far away. With any luck, they would never hear about the plague. Nancy sharpened her pen and composed her mind to write a comforting last letter before she began her journey to Pittsburgh.

Dear Aunt Jane,

You talk as though this is a wilderness. I assure you Philadelphia is quite civilized. Why, they even have hospitals here. And I have been to the theater and any number of other entertainments. I even dined with the French ambassador, and he kissed my hand. But enough of my society fling.

Tomorrow we set out for Pittsburgh, the roughness of which I am sure has been exaggerated. I have heard there are nearly two hundred houses there. Surely there are genteel folk among them. You need not worry about the journey. I travel under the protection of a family of merchants Papa and I met on the ship. What could be more fortuitous than that they run a regular trade with Pittsburgh? Papa has gone ahead and bought us a quaint inn. I can scarcely wait to see it. I will write you from my new home, unless there is an opportunity to mail a letter along the way.

With all my love,

Nancy

Chapter Four

Nancy stared at Trueblood’s costume one more time, for that is what it seemed to be. Daniel was dressed in a rough coat and breeches with serviceable riding boots and sat his lean horse like a soldier, but his brother had donned a leather hunting shirt, which looked like it would be uncomfortably hot later in the day. Trueblood’s breechcloth and leather leggings left a large expanse of hip and thigh exposed. His loincloth looked so much like the garment worn by women when they had their courses she could not help but regard it as indecent. Trueblood must have read something of her thoughts, for he smiled wickedly at her and basked in the stares of all the other women who passed the warehouse on their way to market. It was so unlike Trueblood that Nancy was on the point of demanding what he thought he was about when she remembered what she was going to ask Daniel and kneed her young mare to bring it up to Daniel’s mount.

Daniel watched Nancy’s approach with foreboding. He had been pleased to see that Trueblood had gotten her and her gear to the warehouse in good time. Moreover, her trunks had been got rid of in favor of somewhat more watertight saddle packs, and she seemed to be having no difficulty riding astride. She wore a leather hat, a thick linen skirt and a sturdy jacket and, it appeared, meant to lead her own pack animal. That would not last, but Daniel decided not to quibble over it. What worried him was the determined look on her face, and he could not be sure Trueblood’s outrageous attire would distract her from whatever rub she meant to throw in the path of their departure.

“I forgot to ask. Did my father offer to pay you?”

“Why should he pay me?” Daniel asked. “The job is not done yet.”

“Then I will pay you.”

“Certainly not,” he snapped, then bit back his anger when he saw her raise her chin.

“I do have money of my own.”

“I am sure you—very well. You may hire us as guards.”

“What is your price?”

“A shilling.”

“Is that all my life is worth to you?”

“No, that is all I imagine I am worth at such a task, since I have no doubt you will be an enormous amount of trouble and I shall make a poor job of it. So you may stay in Philadelphia for all I care, or follow us if you choose.”

With that, he led out his string of pack animals and proceeded northwest out of the city.

“Well, Daniel,” Trueblood said, drawing level with him, “you did not handle that very well.”

“Is she coming?” his brother asked apprehensively, without daring to turn his head.

Trueblood glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. She has fallen in between my string and Cullen’s. What would you have done if she had not? Gone back and taken her by force?”

“Oh, no. I thought I would leave that to you.”

“Such high-handed methods would never work with Nancy. She is used to being in charge.”

“Then she had best accustom herself to taking orders. Do not laugh at me.”

“I never laugh at you, Daniel.”

“Not so anyone would notice, but you derive a deal of amusement at my expense.”

“As you are so bent on arguing, I will frustrate you by agreeing completely.”

It was some hours before they had passed beyond the environs of the city and the close farms that supplied it Nancy gave a sigh of contentment as they left civilization behind for the sweeter air and breezier expanses of the country. After half a day’s travel they passed through stretches of cool forest, where the ponies’ shod feet thumped on the hard-packed road, the sound echoing off the leaves. Thousands of birds must be flitting about in the canopy, and the undergrowth, she was sure, hid all sorts of wildlife. As much as she was enjoying the new geography, she had the strangest feeling of foreboding, as if they were intruding where they did not belong.

When the serving girls had heard she was to travel to Pittsburgh, Prudence and Tibby had filled her head with tales of scalping and capture by Indians. Nancy tried to picture Trueblood in a killing rage, but she could not. He was too tame. She tried to picture being carried off by a war party, but the landscape seemed so benign. They were just foolish girls, after all. Daniel would never take her where there was any real danger.

She tried to picture being scalped, for the victims of such attacks were not always dead when this occurred, according to Prudence. They could, in fact, live some days in great pain, or even some years in great ugliness. That was the most appalling part. The horror, Nancy thought, was in being defaced, in being made ugly and in being made to long for death. She had only been thinking of war in terms of noble wounds. That headless sailor had put an end to any idea she might have that war was noble. Wounds would always be ugly to her now, and the foolish gossip of two serving girls had killed her complacency about their journey. Nancy had known fear on the ship but had found she could face it. She now knew that there were some fears she would carry to bed with her in her nightmares even if they were based in her own reality. These horrors had happened even if they had not happened to her. She empathized too much with the ghosts of those who had suffered. Even knowing she could still help the living did not lift her spirits.

They rested the horses at noon, but took time for no more than a few bites of bread and a drink of water. Toward late afternoon, when Nancy assumed Daniel would scout about for a likely campsite, he surprised her by pulling into an inn yard and negotiating with the proprietor for accommodations for them and their considerable string.

Over dinner—a hearty stew—he asked a subdued Nancy, “Are you still hungry? You may have anything you want from the groaning board, some fruit and nuts, or some cheese, perhaps.” Daniel motioned toward the feast that was to be had at a slight extra expense.

“Nothing. The stew and biscuit were fine.”

“If you are tired you can retire immediately, and we will make a late start tomorrow.”

She shook her head, realizing she had to drive off the demons that haunted her if she were to live in this land. “The country is quite lovely, but rather tamer than I had anticipated,” she said with mock bravado.

“And you are disappointed.”

“Well, yes.”

“What were you expecting?”

She decided not to confide the stories of the scalpings to him. “That it would be more difficult.”

“Perhaps we will run into rain. Would that make it difficult enough?” Daniel teased.

“I suppose. Perhaps it is the time of year. One really cannot expect too many hardships in September, unless of course we were to be attacked by Indians.” She glanced sideways at him.

Daniel laughed. “Always joking, Nancy. Why, such a thing has not happened in what, Trueblood—two or three—”

“At least four weeks.”

“Four weeks?” Nancy squeaked, as Trueblood mopped the last of the stew from his wooden trencher with his bis-’ cuit and filled his mouth with it. She stared numbly at him as he then flipped the wooden disk over and went to select a half chicken and a large cutting of cheese for himself. Cullen grinned and beckoned the landlord to refill their tankards.

“Four weeks,” Nancy repeated. “And people live out here as though nothing has happened. How can they bear it?”

“You are afraid!” Daniel blurted out in surprise, his intense blue eyes searching Nancy’s face.

“Yes, I am afraid,” she said pathetically. “But I suppose I will get used to that just like everything else.”

Daniel reached across the table and took her hand. “What I was going to say, when I was so rudely interrupted by my brother, was that such a thing has not happened for years around Pittsburgh. It is true that the Canadians are inciting the Indians to attack the more remote settlers’ cabins, but those are isolated incidents.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” she said resentfully.

“And you will not be at some isolated cabin in the middle of the back woods, but at an inn on a well-traveled road. To be sure, you have nothing to fear from any Indian but Trueblood, and that is only if he bores you to death with his doltish behavior.” Daniel nodded toward his brother, who was dismembering the chicken.

Nancy smiled at him and shook her head. Of course Daniel would never take her anyplace dangerous. She had been foolish to let those stories worry her.

When Daniel helped Nancy mount her bay mare the next day he noticed that she was smiling again and her hair was wet. As it dried it fell like a shimmer of gold about her shoulders. He started out at her end of the train so that he would be able to watch her without getting a stiff neck. But that only led him to contemplate an idyllic future with her, which he realized might be far from Nancy’s expectations. That she liked him he knew, but he was very far from winning her. During a rest he traded places with Cullen to clear his head. He must get his mind back on Dupree and the fomenting rebellion or he would never get this job out of the way. That was odd in itself, that he would be impatient with an assignment rather than intently thinking of nothing else.

At their noon stop Nancy demanded, “See here, I have been talking to Cullen and he informs me that you do not always travel this way.”

“What way?” Daniel asked, tearing off a mouthful of bread.

“From inn to inn as though you are on a tour. I wondered how you could make any profit if you were forever paying for food and lodging, especially Trueblood’s food. Cullen tells me you normally make your own camp and hunt game along the way.”

“I see no reason for you not to have a bed, if there is one to be had.”

“Considering the number of fleabites I have gotten I would by far rather sleep on the clean hard ground.”

“But you had warm water and a room to bathe in this morning. You won’t have that if we travel rough.”

“Yes, and now that I am free of vermin again I intend to stay that way. I can heat water as well as the next woman if you have a pot. Well, have you one?”

“Yes, at your disposal, Miss Riley,” Daniel said, tipping his hat.

“I expect we can make better time also, now that you will not be forever looking for an inn.”

“However did we manage without you, Nancy girl?” Trueblood asked.

“I have had quite enough of this delay”, Daniel said, getting to his feet and preparing to mount.

“Delay? You cannot pretend that I held you up, for I can make more than fifteen miles a day even if I walk.”

“How on earth would you know that?” Daniel asked as he lifted her onto her small mare.

“I practiced.”

“Practiced walking fifteen miles a day?”

“Twenty, actually. I had to be sure I could manage it, don’t you see? In case we should ever be on a forced march, or, God forbid, a retreat.”

“Well, do not let us hold you up, Captain Riley,” he taunted. “Would you like, perhaps, to lead the way?”

“The way, as you call it, is plainly marked and I suppose anyone could find it here. But I suspect it may become more convoluted when we reach the mountains. I am content for you to lead.”

“Content, are you?” Daniel glowered at her, then set off with his string of ponies, pretending not to care if anyone followed him or not.

“Child, if you knew how much you bother him,” Trueblood said with a chuckle as he brought his own string of ponies up level with her.

“I do know.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“When he is competent and in control, he takes me for granted. He may even forget I am here. When I throw him off his guard, he can think of nothing but me.”

“And how much he would like to give you the whipping you deserve.”

“Did he say that?”

“Somewhat incoherently, but that was the gist of it. Does it worry you?”

“No, for I do not think he really means it,” she said wistfully.

“You would never tolerate it.”

“No, of course not. But if we were married, there is not a great deal I could do about it.”

Not for the first time, Nancy left Trueblood with a puzzled frown. Normally when a woman said something nonsensical he merely thought she was babbling. But Nancy was an intelligent woman, and here she was acting as irresponsibly as a moonstruck girl…That was it! She was in love, and Daniel had not the slightest inkling. There was nothing new about that. Daniel only wanted women who were ineligible. If a woman fell in love with him, he had not the acuity to realize it.

Trueblood hastened to catch up with Daniel. “What do you intend doing about Nancy?”

“What the hell do you mean by that? I am delivering her to her father.”

“Well, Daniel, you have a reputation for impatience, especially with women. For using them rather hastily and leaving them in despair. If you—”

“Trueblood, what have you done? Have you fallen in love with Nancy?”

“In a manner of speaking, I have, but not in the way you imagine.”

“If there was ever a time to speak clearly, brother,” Daniel threatened through clenched teeth, “it is now!”

Trueblood blinked at him. “I mean that I treasure Nancy for her talents, her loyalty, her…hmm…”

“What?”

“There is something even I cannot fathom about her. Nevertheless, believe me when I say that if you mean to seduce her and leave her weeping, I will nip this affair in the bud.”

“I believe you mean it,” Daniel said in astonishment, taking in the determined set of his brother’s brows.

“It is the only thing you could do that would make me turn against you.”

“She has made an impression.” Daniel stared ahead at a twist in the road, trying to picture Trueblood not at his side. It was inconceivable.

“I think she would also make you an admirable wife. No other woman we have ever encountered has been at all suitable for you.”

“Is that why you relieve me of them so consistently?” “As I would remove a poison mushroom from your plate, for your own good.”

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