“It’s not funny.”
“It’s quite comical, little one,” he chuckled, getting to his feet and walking out of the room. Madeline watched out of the corner of her eye as he stepped just out of sight. Listening, she heard a loud banging and clanking sound, jumping when he walked back in the room with two empty pails.
“If you can start a fire without burning down half the city, I will fetch us something to eat while you bathe. I don’t know how long we’ll be here – but it will make you feel better and perhaps put you in a better mood.”
“I’m perfectly happy.”
“And I’m George Washington.”
“I thought you said your name was Alden Knox?”
“I’m teasing you.”
“Go away.”
“I’m going,” he admitted, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. He walked out the door and quickly returned, setting the water to heat over the fireplace. Rolling out a small tin tub, he put it behind a folded screen for her.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
Madeline watched as he left, expecting him to return once again. She sat there waiting for some time and then realized that he was truly going to give her some privacy.
Thank goodness!
She smelled of smoke and dirt – positive she looked even worse than she smelled. Kicking off her little satin slippers, she was half tempted to toss them in the fireplace along with her dress. There would be no saving it. The silk was utterly ruined.
Filling the small basin only halfway up, she quickly disrobed down to her chemise and managed to squeeze inside. The heat felt wonderful on her ankles, making her quickly soak her wrists as well. Once the water began to cool, she immediately got out and knelt over the tub to wash her hair with her backside towards the fire. Glancing at the pile of stained material, Madeline instead wrapped herself in the blanket she’d used as a coat and waited for Alden to return.
Horrified, Alden stood in the streets staring at the scene before him. He’d been tasked with meeting up with another spy – and here he was before him, about to be hanged. An empty noose dangled nearby. Listening, he stood there dumbstruck as the soldier read off the charges.
Nathan Hale was being charged as an illegal combatant to the sovereignty of his majesty the King. He looked to be little more than a boy. If Alden was to guess, the clever spy he’d been told to meet up with was barely twenty-one years old or a bit older. He was definitely younger than himself or Daniel.
Is this what he faced for serving his country? He knew the threat of treason would result in death but seeing it firsthand was terrifying. This man stood there stoically, with such composure and resolution as he looked up to the heavens praying just before addressing the crowd. His voice rang clear in the streets.
“I regret that I have but one life to give for my country.”
This seemed to incense the soldiers present as they kicked out the chair from beneath Nathan. A chorus of horrified gasps rang up around him just as Alden pinched his eyes closed, looking away just in time.
Seeing the young man was not something he needed burned into his memory. His words would do more than seeing his hanging would. He couldn’t even look in that direction anymore and felt waves of nausea roll over him. Stopping at a stand, he picked up something for his young guest to dine on this evening. Numb, he wasn’t even sure what it even he’d bought, but just knew he needed to get away from the vile wrongdoing he’d just witnessed first-hand.
What was this world coming to? Alden thought, devastated.
Madeline had laid her head down on the wooden table some time ago in order to rest. She’d peered around the tiny house only to find that it was barely furnished. A single bed lay in one of the rooms and she blushed thinking of the man, Alden, sleeping there. Hearing the door open, she jerked her head upwards to see that he’d returned and looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“The soldiers are coming?” she whispered, feeling her own face pale to match his. Instead, he stepped inside and bolted the door without a word. Curious, she tried to determine what had happened since he wasn’t saying much.
“The water is still warm,” she offered politely and saw him ignore her words. “Mr. Knox… eh… Mr. Washington?” she amended, remember him teasing her about the names and wondering if he told the truth.
“It’s Knox. Alden Knox,” he said quietly, setting a persimmon, a carrot, and a meat pie on the table. Madeline stared at it and looked at him again, her eyebrow raising. This was certainly an odd combination - and the persimmon wasn’t even ripe yet. Something was seriously amiss.
“Alden,” Madeline said gently, seeing him flutter around the room busying himself. He stoked the fire, wiped his face, pulled the already closed curtains shut even more, straightened up a chair, and stood there looking lost.
“Alden, come here and tell me what happened,” she invited, feeling like she was almost talking to someone who’d been mistreated. She was keenly aware that she was wrapped in the blanket with nothing but her chemise, but he’d been so good to her when she was beyond help – how could she not be just as caring or kind to her own hero? To her surprise, he fell to his knees in front of her where she sat on the pine bench and began to cry silently, staring at the floor.
“Oh mais no, mon bel ami,” Madeline whispered wretchedly, feeling her heart break. What had happened that this strong man who’d risked so much could be brought so low?
She held out a hand to him, and he immediately leaned forward putting his head down in her lap as the tears flowed painfully. She simply stroked his hair and crooned to him in her native tongue. It was several bitter minutes of silent weeping before he seemed to compose himself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, tell me what happened.”
“I’m afraid to,” he uttered brokenly, looking up at her. His dark brown eyes met hers and she saw the pain deep in their depths.
“I owe you my life, you can trust me.”
“I don’t even know your name, remember?”
“It’s Madeline – Madeline Anjou.”
He sat there for several moments looking at her, before taking a deep shuddering sigh. She held out her hand from under the blanket and was surprised to see him take hold of it.
“I will not betray you now that we are friends.”
“Are we?”
“I should like to think so,” she smiled gently, squeezing his fingers.
“Miss Anjou, Madeline,” he whispered and shuddered again, wiping his eyes. “I am a spy for General Washington. I was supposed to meet up with another man and give him a map of the area that I stole from the British encampment where I rescued you – and they just hung him in the streets - in front of me. I’m endangering you by even telling you this,” he admitted, sickened, getting to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Madeline. I will leave…”
“No,” she said firmly.
“I won’t have you hang for treason beside me.”
“Then don’t get caught,” she countered sagely and sighed, “this is my country too and I do not agree with what they are doing to our people. I will not say a word and I am more than happy to help maintain your cover.”
“How?”
“I could be your sister during our travels?”
“I think not,” he said looking completely horrified.
“Why? It would explain why we are here together and make things easier as we travel – or you could take me home and face the British again. I don’t think they would be so welcoming now that you’ve disappeared with their captive and the plans.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m speaking the truth.”
“You are not going to play the part of my sister.”
“Then what?”
“You could be my wife.”
Madeline couldn’t help the sudden burst of nervous laughter that bubbled up inside of her – the problem was that Alden wasn’t laughing. He looked completely serious and a lit
tle insulted. The realization sobered her immediately.
“You’re serious?”
“What is wrong with handfasting yourself to me? I would provide for you and protect you. Do you have another beau waiting for you?”
“No, but this is ridiculous. We cannot… we should not… I…” Madeline grew silent and stared up at him. “We don’t know each other and I think maybe you aren’t thinking clearly right now due to what just happened. You will thank me later for declining your proposal of marriage – especially knowing me for less than a day.”
Alden clenched his jaw several times and nodded tightly, crossing his arms over his chest. He got up and paced the room a few times before finally looking at the table where the food lay. She saw surprise on his face and his cheeks redden in embarrassment. How strange, she thought idly to herself. She sat immobile on the bench, keenly aware that she should have dressed when she’d had the chance.
“Will you join me and split the meal?”
“No, there is barely enough there for you. Please go ahead and eat,” he said flatly and she could tell that he was still bitter about the refusal. He walked over to the door and looked over his shoulder to where she sat.
“I’m going to get something else for us to eat later and a new dress for you to wear since your gown is located in a pile, on the floor. That blanket around you is far too tempting for me to remain where I am, behind closed doors alone with you, Miss Anjou,” he said and walked out, shutting it firmly behind him as her jaw dropped open in shock at his words.
Chapter Five
Alden felt like a fool.
He burst onto the street and took several deep breaths before disappearing into the crowds. First, he asked her to marry him and she rejected him - laughing. Then, he had revealed that he thought she was tempting. It hadn’t hit him until he’d seen her gown on the floor. When he realized she was in her shift, his whole world seemed to upend itself. The blanket that was wrapped around her like a cape, was all that stood between him and the most enchanting creature he’d ever seen. Thoughts of peeling the woolen blanket away and kissing Madeline senseless seemed to distract him from the horrors he’d just witnessed.
She was absolutely right – he didn’t need to pledge or marry himself off to a woman he didn’t know. What he needed to do was unload the maps he had rolled up and tucked inside of his clothing to keep them hidden. No one would find them unless they stripped him of his garments – and that would be over his dead body.
Swallowing hard, Alden remembered Nathan and shook his head. Every day was going to be treated as a gift. He was going to have to adjust his words and refrain from using that statement ever again.
He wanted to live – and that was part of the reason he’d offered to marry Madeline. He wanted to feel alive, to experience things – including being intimate with a woman. He craved a chance to feel what it was like to love someone… even if he didn’t love her, he could admire her greatly as his wife. He knew deep in his soul that he would treasure a wife.
Alden had made a mistake even uttering the words aloud because the moment he had - he’d seen the surprise, doubt, and hope, flare to life in Madeline’s deep brown eyes. She’d been a disheveled beauty lying under the tree. Now, once the mud and debris had been washed away, she was breathtaking.
Bright blond hair cascaded around her shoulders and there was a sparkle in her eyes that made him want to see her smile. She had a good heart and when he’d felt overwhelmed with doubt and emotions, she hadn’t mocked him or rejected him – instead she comforted him like any virtuous woman would have done. He could do a lot worse than to be saddled with someone he respected for life… no matter how short his life ended up being due to the treason he was committing.
Stepping inside the Dressmaker’s, Alden almost backed out as the women chattering inside grew quiet. He was out of his element. Instead, he swallowed and saw the pale green riding habit off to the side.
“How much?” he said simply, only to have the seamstress frown at him heavily. He felt like he was being sized up and judged, something he didn’t take kindly too. He’d been snubbed all his life by being the ‘big, ignorant boy’ – it had taken years to get away from that stigma.
“We don’t sell to your kind.”
“The paying kind? Or the Colonial kind,” he scoffed, adjusting his tricorn.
“That remains to be seen,” she said arrogantly, lifting her nose into the air.
“I asked how much the outfit was…”
Alden walked out moments later with the riding habit folded up nicely. It didn’t make sense why he’d been so extravagant in spending his money on a woman he barely knew. He told himself that she needed something comfortable to mount a horse, but deep down inside he knew the real reason: the coloring would make her pink cheeks even more rosy and he couldn’t wait to see it on her.
Stopping at a nearby vendor, he bought three more of the greasy meat pies. One for her and two for himself. He was starving and hadn’t really paid attention to what he’d picked up before for Madeline to eat.
He’d been shocked to see the meager items on the table. His vision was terrible up close and he’d obviously picked up a persimmon instead of a large plum. He had thought the plum would be a wonderful treat or surprise for his impromptu guest. Instead, he felt like a fool and was even more determined to make a better impression on her.
She might have thought he was joking about their handfasting but the more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. She could do so much better than him – and truthfully he wasn’t sure if they would be amicable in a marriage together, but that image of her sitting there looking up at him wouldn’t let the idea disappear from his mind.
He would never force a woman to marry against her will. If she thought ill of him, maybe it would be best to take her to safety and get rid of the maps at once. Those old doubts once again began to plague him. What if she declined to marry because she thought he was ignorant also? Obviously that must be it, he surmised, rubbing the back of his neck.
Madeline put on the filthy gown behind the screen and winced at the dried mud that was flaking off. It was better than being caught in her underthings once again. He’d been a perfect gentleman so far, but there was no reason to believe that he would do the right thing every time. The man admittedly was a spy – so why did she trust him so easily?
He seemed to be so candid and honest – so it struck her as strange for him to be practicing such a deceptive commission for the army. And some of the things he said or did seemed so guileless. He truly looked surprised at the food he’d purchased.
Didn’t he realize what he’d bought?
The persimmon sat there on the table nearly hard as a rock. It would take some time for it to soften to where she could make a mash or pudding with it. The sweet fruit would be delicious… eventually. Hearing the door to the small house open up, she saw Alden walk in as if on cue.
“You are back?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were getting something to eat?”
Alden froze and looked extremely alarmed as he set down the brown paper packaging. He gave a heavy sigh before unloading another large package tied with twine onto the table where the persimmon sat. It got knocked to the side and rolled onto the floor with a thud.
“What was that?”
“The persimmon,” Madeline said, frowning, “Didn’t you see it?”
“Of course, I did. Don’t be silly.”
She stared at him with dawning comprehension as he looked away, unwrapping the smaller package with short, quick movements. As he revealed a meat pie, he let out another sigh.
“You can’t see it, can you?” she asked quietly.
“What makes you say…” Alden stopped and hesitated, looking at her under his eyelashes. She saw the embarrassment and shame in his face before he nodded. “I can see it, but it’s terribly blurry. In fact, most everything within arm’s length is fuzzy.”
“It’s nothing to
be embarrassed about.”
“It’s certainly nothing to crow about!”
“A man can wear spectacles and he would look quite distinguished,” she chided softly, laying a hand on his arm. “Have you tried a pair?”
“No. They are for older men, just like snuffboxes and pipes.”
“I think you might look handsome.”
Alden glanced over to where she stood and she wondered if he could even see her or how bad his vision actually was. Smiling, she stepped back away from him – and then purposefully took another step backwards.
“Let me know when you can see me.”
“I could see you a moment ago when you were beside me.”
“Was I blurry?”
“Yes.”
“Am I now?”
“Not in the slightest,” he said huskily, his voice making her shiver. She stood there looking at him for a moment before looking away. The air suddenly seemed so thick in the room and she was keenly aware that they were alone. As if he could read her mind, he nodded and looked away.
“The tourtiere smells delicious,” she admitted, trying to be nice to him, extending the proverbial olive branch between them. It was a heady thought to think that he might be interested in her. She’d thought he’d made the offer of marriage because he was a gentleman, trying to save her good name, and such. Now, she realized that there might actually be a growing attraction between them. Then what would happen?
“What did you call it?” he asked, grinning with a sparkle in his eyes that had her mesmerized. “Say it with me… meeeeaat pie.”
“In French its pronounced tourtiere; it means little ‘meat pie’.”
“Your tourtiere is getting cold, Madeline. Come eat and then I have a little something else for you.”
“Another persimmon?” she teased, taking the chance to pick on him now. He had the good graces to flush as he smiled softly at her.
Lawfully Pledged Page 3
