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years&
"And it's legal to beat your apprentices, as well?"
Startled, he glanced at Hope. "Legal, yes. Some apprentices have been beaten to death. But not all
tradesmen are cruel to their charges. In fact, some are better off in their training than they were in their
homes. Especially if they have a fine skill; then they are much valued by their masters. In Philadelphia,I
know a woman who runs a dressmaker's establishment, and she treats her apprentice girls so well that
they cry when their years are up."
Hope was staring at him with an almost startled look.
"What's this woman's name?" she asked. "If I was to go to Philadelphia, where would I find her?"
"Mistress Kimball, on Front Street," he answered. "But don't you think you're a little old to apprentice?"
"For crying out loud, I wasn't thinking of me. I was thinking of Prudence."
"For crying out loud," he echoed. "What manner of oath is that? Where did you hear it?"
She blushed, with a guilty look. She had heard it somewhere she shouldn't have; that was obvious.
Seth knew how to question people: when to push ahead and be direct, and when to withdraw and bide
your time. He changed the subject swiftly, to give Laurel time to relax.
"Do you think Prudence has skill enough? Mistress Kimball has the finest establishment in the city."
"I think so. Of course, I don't know, but it looks good to me." The diversion worked. She turned to him,
meeting his eyes with a gaze of almost disturbing directness. "How exactly does one become an
apprentice?"
Seth studied her face carefully before answering. There it was again: the unexplainable. She looked a man
in the eye as if she was his equal, and at the same time asked a question that any child should know the
answer to. It was unsettling, disturbing. Eighteen-year-old country girls didn't look strange soldiers
directly in the eye; they blushed and fluttered with shyness, or the bold ones pretended to.
"If you're serious about getting Prudence an apprenticeship, you must take her to her prospective
mistress and let her judge for herself the child's potential skill. If she accepts Prudence, you pay the fee."
"Is there always a fee?"
Seth shrugged. "In unusual cases, it can be waived."
Laurel brightened at that, and he thought how charming her face was when she smiled. Her cheeks
curved into a pleasant roundness; her teeth were very straight.
"And you, Hope?" he asked abruptly. "You have decided how to get Prudence out of her father's house,
but what of you? Do you have a plan? A place to go?"
The smile faded abruptly from her eyes, and the look on her face confounded him. Fear. Sorrow.
Secrecy. Not the look of a girl who planned to elope.
"I can handle it," was her vague answer.
"And what of your lover? The one you sneaked out to meet tonight?"
For a moment her face was blank; and then her laugh rang out, as merry as church bells on Christmas
Day. "Is that what you thought? Oh, for crying out loud! That's all I need. Who did you think I was
meeting here? Ephraim the Toothless Wonder?" She laughed again, and for a second time he marveled at
her directness. No simpering maid, hiding her dainty giggles behind graceful hands; Hope threw her head
back and laughed with strength.
He liked it.
He liked it, and he found himself thinking that a man would always know where he stood with Hope
Garrick. There would be no elaborate comedies of manners and farces of coy flirtation.
Unbidden, the thought occurred to him that she would probably make love the same way she laughed
with strength and pleasure, without false modesty or maidenly blushes.
To his surprise, she shoved his shoulder. Again, it was the gesture of an equal, the horseplay of an
affectionate comrade.
"Yuck!" Her voice was full of mingled disgust and laughter. "Did you really think I'd sneak out to meet
Ephraim? That's so disgusting. If I was sneaking out to meet someone, it wouldn't be anyone like that."
Then who? Seth wondered, but didn't say.
For the first time she seemed to notice that he wasn't wearing his British uniform, that he was clad in the
dark, rough clothing of an ordinary citizen: a simple vest over a white shirt and dark breeches that
buttoned at the knee.
"You're out of uniform. Are you going to join the Americans?"
An innocent question? Or something more? "No. I intend to go back to my home in Philadelphia. I've
business that needs attending to, before the British take the city."
She nodded, and seemed to consider his words. "And when the British take the city? Will you go to
White Marsh, and on to Valley Forge?"
If a sudden snowstorm had begun to fall in the hot summer night, he would have been less surprised. For
a few moments he was unable to believe what he had heard. Where would a country girl, half-mad and
living in a loyalist household, acquire such information?
She looked at him with a face of innocence, as if she had no idea that her comment had knocked the
wind out of him.
"Who told you this?" he asked, and his voice was calm and silky, despite his misgivings. "What do you
know about White Marsh? Or Valley Forge, for that matter?"
She shrugged, and appeared to be thinking over his words. "Ummm, Valley Forge," she answered at last.
"The turning point of the Revolutionary War. Washington and his troops stay at the camp through the
winter of seventy-seven and seventy-eight." She wrinkled her brow and raked her hand through her long
hair. "And then that German arrives to drill the troops& and& ummm& the British take the winter off."
"They what?" He could hardly believe what he was hearing. She knew about Von Steuben, "that
German." She knew too much to be a simple, half-mad girl. And why was she letting him know it? And
this, about the British& Was it a trap?
"The British are taking the winter off. You know& taking it easy. They're just going to live it up in
Philadelphia until spring comes. It's a pretty dumb-ass way to fight a war, if you ask me; but it's not my
problem."
She was speaking the truth, or thought she was.
Seth was doing his best to remain calm, but it was pointless. "Where did you hear this, Hope Garrick?
By whose tongue? By whose word? Where did you come by this knowledge?"
She was startled by his sudden interrogation. Her eyes widened and she drew back. A guilty flush stole
over her cheeks. "I read it someplace."
"What else did you read? Where did you read it?" His hand was gripping her shoulder, and even in his
panic he was aware of the warm, bare skin beneath the thin fabric.
"I don't remember." Her voice quavered. Afraid, or lying? "Forget I said anything, all right?"
"I will not." Was she a fool, or did she think him one? "What think you, that you can play the idiot for me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]