Tory Daughter
Chapter 18

Copyright© 2014 by Bill Offutt

Anne said, "Come," when there was a tap at her bedroom door. Aunt Amelia's cook stood in the doorway, looking unhappy, wringing her apron. "Dere's a man down in the kitchen. Was on d'back porch when I ah lit d'stove fire. Wants to see Mr. Fields, he says."

"What kind of man, a soldier?" Anne asked as her toes found her slippers. "Is he British?"

"Just a man, great big man. He ain't old."

"Be right down," Anne said, shrugging into her quilted robe. She hurried along the hall and found Billy sitting on the side of his bed, head bowed. "Man here to see you," she told him. Billy nodded, ignoring his nakedness.

"You taking that stuff?" She looked just over his head, aware of his shadowed genitals.

He nodded again, holding out his broken hand. "Hurts like the very devil."

"Shall I bring him up?"

"Thank you," he said with a shudder, pulling the sheet between his legs as Anne hurried away.

"Clark, miss, John Clark." The big man waiting in the kitchen removed his battered hat. "How is he?"

"Not too well. They beat him badly." The man was bulky but surely not fat. "He mentioned you I think, accidentally, to me I mean." She gave him a smile and led Clark up the back stairs and held open the door.

Anne stood outside in the corridor and listened as best she could. Their voices were raised once in a while but generally were just low mutterings. After ten minutes or so, Clark appeared and beckoned to her. "He wants to talk to you. He is very unhappy. He did his share and then some." He hurried down the steps.

"They want me to quit, quit n'suck me thumb," Billy cried loudly. "B'damn! I will not." He choked back tears.

Anne sat beside him, pulled the sheet across his hairy lap, held his battered hand and nodded. "We could go home together, back to Annapolis."

"Don' tempt me, woman." He chuckled and wiped his face with the back of his injured hand. "I been t'Valley Forge. Tisn't far."

"What are you thinking?"

He leaned over and kissed her ear. "Going back t'work, m'old company, soldierin', m'girl. Much as I love you, I must. I signed my name." He sniffed. "This isn't over, far from it, b'damn."

"I doubt you could walk a mile?" she said, returning his kiss, nuzzling his stubbled cheek. "Do you know that you asked me to marry you?"

He snorted. "Really? Must have been feverish, sick in the head. Marry a redhead. Hah! Besides, soldiers shouldn't marry. Y'know that."

"Bad as marrying an Irisher is it?"

"Twice as bad, mabbe more, ballocks, m'dear. Only a fool would do such a thing." He smiled at her. "If you'll find m'boots, we can go for a bit of a'walk. I can't lie here all day, and for reasons I certainly din'ah understand, you refuse to lie with me, foine man that I am."

 
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