Chapter 26

The next morning the first thing Billy Fields said to her after he took the saddle off her horse was, "Think we ought t'get married, you an' me, pretty quick like, maybe this mornin'."

Anne took a step back and caught her breath. "Whoa, wait! I thought, I mean, didn't you say when you got out of the army you'd ask me?"

"Uh huh," he said with a smile, "but then there was no lathy green-bagger mooning about, and we both were a lot younger, an' I was a lot dumber." He grinned at her. "And you weren't so damned pretty as I recall. Were you now?"

She laughed. "What are you talking about?'

"Master Philip Wells, m'dear, that would-be attorney. Should I add the esquire to his fancy name?"

She shook her head, tossing her long curls. "You are out a' your pig-headed Irish mind."

"An' you, m'freckle-faced tabby, you are all he could talk about, y'red-headed nitwit. Did y'have a good time at the fair, by th'by?"

"Lor, Billy. I think you're jealous."

"Damn right! I know I'm jealous. He's tall an' handsome an' he speaks good English, wears clean clothes and wants to be a lawyer. None of the things I am. I'm a jacked, lank-sleeved sojer wi' no trade, no prospects, no nothin', eh? He's to inherit some land when he's of age, so 'e tole me. He may shave by then."

"I remember you telling me that soldiers shouldn't marry, m'lad, marry and then go off to make widows and orphans. And besides, you are not ugly, not a bit." She pulled his nose.

"Did I say that? Nonsense, girl. Don' be waspish." He grabbed for her, and she ducked away, laughing. "I need a wife. Y'should have a husband. You're not a blushing maiden, pretty close to becoming a spinster, eh? Disgraced, that's what you'll be, set aside, put back in a corner, spinnin' perhaps."

"Can't you wait? This foul thing, this war can't go on forever." She held him off with both hands.

"It might; it jus' might. If I wait, you'll be Mistress Wells with a mob of little tow-headed children running around your knees. It's sure a'that I am. That boy is love sick now, dished up, m'carrot-topped friend. I slept at his house, in his brother's bed. They have money, m'dear, that bunch, gelt, curtains at the windows, coverin's on the floors. Been trading and fishin' and shipbuildin' for generations. Smuggling too I'm sure. Their home makes m'family's look like a sod-covered bog house, 'n not a very fine one."

Anne stared at him, fists on hips. "Billy, my trouble-making love, I assure you that Mr. Philip Wells has never, ever said one single word to me about anything like love or matrimony or anything but the price of slaves and cost of auctioning, oh, and yes, the fair. We had a very pleasant time indeed. Talked about food, sheep dogs and, as I recall, oysters, fried and raw. He hasn't held my hand much less kissed me. He did an honest job for me, and now I am doing a job for him, with pen and ink. It is solely, absolutely and completely business. That's all it is." She knew it was not so as her voice rose, knew deep inside and swallowed a grin. "Cash on the barrel head, Irishman. So there." She stuck her nose in the air and looked away, very pleased with her formulation.

"Annie, m'sweet Tory darlin'," he snarled, knowing she hated to be called Annie, "he is hopelessly and permanently in love with you. Jus' a matter of time. Reel him in, he's gilled. Get yer net."

"You're a fool!"

"So y' won't marry me, eh?"

"Not today, Mr. Fields, but I appreciate your fine and very polite offer." She curtsied. "I doubt any girl in Maryland has had a better proposal, at least not this morning."

"Fah," he cried, hugging her to him and kissing her mouth long and hard, exciting them both.

Anne pushed him away, both hands on his chest, tasting his tobacco. "Come inside, you skinny chub. It's cold out here. And we can talk about this. You don't seem to take marriage seriously. Or anything else, for that matter."

He followed her through the house, muttering.

They sat facing each other on opposite sides of the warm hearth where the fire was down to crackling cinders and the burnt ends of sticks. "You know I like you, Billy, have for a long time. I probably do love you, fool that I am. Should know better by now." Anne smiled at him and raked back her hair with her fingers, pleased she had said it. She bent and put a small log on the fire and then sat up straight in her tightly cinched corset and saw his eyes roam her body.

"Indeed, it's glad I am t'hear that," he said, trying to look serious but very happy, admiring her grace and beauty, noting how she had matured, her cheeks thinner, "but why would any woman of property, which is what y'are now, wed an unemployed and probably unemployable wastrel like me? Marry an' your husband owns your land. Own's all y'have. Y'know that, don' cha?" He sat back and crossed his legs, lifting both eyebrows, hoping he hadn't laid it on too thickly.

"Love, my foolish boy, does not make sense. It is not arithmetic." She arched a heavy eyebrow at him, a well-practiced gesture, fingers interlaced on her belly.

"Isn't it now? Well then, let us get down to cases. I want t'marry you, girl, right now, today, an' live with you, plunder your body, sleep in your bed and have children with you and take, take..."

She held up her hand. "I know all that, but I can look after myself, thank you very much. Come now, Mr. Fields, why should I do such a foolish thing? How do you plan to support me as my dear, late father did, when you have no fortune, no prospects that are discernible, no home to live in? How do you plan to make your way in the world, eh? Blarney is all I've heard, blarney and bluster. I am pretty dear, laddy buck, expensive that is. Do you know what a good dress costs these days; what a plain shift costs? I bought two in town recently, one linsey-woolsey, the other muslin for what amounted to three night's work. And shoes? My lord, shoes! Could you provide these children you speak of with shoes or must they run about bare foot?"

He shook his head and slumped back in his hard-framed chair, spreading his hands and closing his eyes, his lips pursed.

"Ah ha," she cried, raising her fist. "I win again. You are defeated, overcome with my iron-bound logic. Besides, I never thought you'd duck from competition, not that I think this, this ah, this lanky boy in town is really a competitor. Fine young man as far as I can tell, very polite, 'bout your age I suspect. Probably a rebel like you, unfortunately, in a militia company you know, another becursed Whig." She sighed loudly, theatrically, shaking her head and tossing her curls.

"Oh, he will be. Jus' you wait, next time you see'im, look carefully, m'darlin', notice the signs; the gaping mouth, staring eyes an' silly grin. Perhaps y'don' know what you look like. D'you own a glass, y'silly frump? And don't tell me you are still a bla-, a miserable, block-headed Tory. Have you learned nothing?" He made a "tsk-tsk" sound with his lips and shook his head.