Chapter 38

"Did you hear the news?" Mr. Maguire asked when Anne brought in her copies of legal documents the next Saturday.

"Not likely," she said with a smile. "I've only, let's say communed; yes, that's a fine word, communed with my tobacco plants and a few crows this week. I'm getting calluses. The crows seem amused." She held up her hands. "They are weak on conversation although they do talk to each other constantly."

"It's about Alexander Martin. I understand you met him." He raised an eyebrow and grinned. "In fact I think the whole town knows you met him. They say he's gone north in a fit of Tory patriotism to join Chalmer's legion."

"Really? Didn't think he was the type. Good riddance."

"Your doing, I think. He could no longer walk these streets without hearing sniggers or rough jests."

"My-my, poor boy." She tried not to laugh and failed, turning aside.

Maguire laughed with her. "Indeed. Been a lot of desertions according to one man who came back sick. As for Alex, even those he gambled with refused to sit at a table with him. I fear he was ostracized, lass, thrown out into the gnashing of teeth by a wild, carrot-topped female, so they say. Merciless woman I've been told."

"Couldn't happen to a finer fellow. And I am no longer offended by the word Tory, sir. I do not wish to be in the same company as that braggart and coward or any of his ilk." She stopped, frowned and sighed, never having put such thoughts into words.