by Lora Thomas
“If you will excuse us, Mr. Christopher, I need to have a brief meeting with my officers,” Hatfield said.
“By all means, General. The plans of winning this war are more important than entertaining any businessman. But take all the time you need. For with the officers engrossed in talks of war, it allows me to be the only man in the company of the most beautiful women in the world. I shall entertain them with stories of your heroics.”
General Hatfield chortled at the outlandish businessman’s comment. “Just don’t try to steal my wife.”
“I would never dream of it. She loves you too dearly. Now, First Lieutenant Hansen’s wife is a different matter.”
Hatfield burst out in laughter. “That woman is as unattractive as I am.” The general turned to Stevenson. “This way, Major.”
Chris watched as the men walked into a study. His eyes then turned back to the lovely Mrs. Stevenson. She was standing by a window gazing out at the courtyard. He made his way over to her.
“Good evening.”
Anna quickly whirled around. She looked as though she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. Christopher watched as she quickly regained her composure.
“Pardon my rudeness,” Christopher stated. “But allow me to introduce myself. I am Harrison Christopher. I own a small shop in town. Should you or your husband need anything, Mrs. Stevenson, please do not hesitate to stop by.”
Anna studied the man who had interrupted her thoughts. He was quite handsome. The powdered wig did not take away from his chiseled jawline or Roman nose. His green eyes were brilliant in color and were outlined by dark lashes. He was a little taller than most men but not overly so. He was wearing a cornflower-blue jacket that strained over his broad shoulders. The frilly lace cuffs and collar of his cream shirt seemed out of place on such a masculine man.
“How do you know me?” Anna asked, tilting her head as she studied the man.
“Process of elimination.” With a sweep of his hand, he gestured to all the women in the room. “I recognized every woman in this room.” He then pointed to her. “But you. And knowing that Major Stevenson and his wife would be attending this event, I put two-and-two together.”
“Very perceptive, Mr. Christopher.”
He gave her a warm smile. As he spoke to her, he was reading her actions. He knew now was the time to ask pointed questions. Ones she would be truthful in answering and ones he knew she would not in order to tell if she was lying. From experience, he had learned the subtle telltale signs people displayed when lying. Some nervously pulled at their ear, others rubbed their necks, but everyone’s eyes told the truth. From his experience most people looked to their right when lying.
“Thank you. Are you enjoying the party?”
Anna smiled and looked out the window to her right. “Yes. It is a lovely event.”
Lie number one.
“So I hear you were originally from the colonies.”
“You don’t beat around the bush in asking questions do you, Mr. Christopher?”
“My line of work makes it a necessity to get straight to the point, Mrs. Stevenson. But if I offended you, I apologize.”
“No need. Yes, I am from here. My family owns several acres just east of here.” Her eyes looked straight into his.
Truth.
“So once the war is over, do you and your husband plan on residing here?”
“No,” she said as a sadness came to her eyes. “We will be returning to England.”
Truth. But one she did not want to admit. Interesting.
“You look tired, Mrs. Stevenson. Would you like me to get you a chair?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Really it is not an issue. A woman in your condition should rest whenever possible.” He watched as shock entered her eyes.
“My condition?” she croaked.
“Begging your pardon again, Mrs. Stevenson. But someone told me you were expecting. Were they misinformed?”
She looked to her right. “No, they were not.”
A lie. Interesting. Why would she lie about being pregnant? Unless she finds her husband’s touch repulsive and she just told him she was carrying his child to keep him away from her. Either that or maybe the child belongs to her lover and not her husband.
“You have my congratulations. You must allow me to bestow a gift upon your child when it is born, whether here or in England.”
“That is not necessary, Mr. Christopher.”
He shook his hand back and forth in protest. “I insist. Now, please allow me to introduce you to some of the women in the room.”
“That’s not necessary,” she hurriedly replied. “I have—”
“Nonsense. It would be my pleasure. For I find myself being the only man in a room full of the most stunning women in all of North Carolina.”
Christopher extended his arm to Anna. She gave him a nervous smile and placed her hand on the bend of his elbow. He escorted her to a group of women who had arrived earlier in the evening.
“Ladies,” Christopher acknowledged.
“Mr. Christopher,” a plump brunette woman answered as she smiled at the man.
“Miss Reynolds,” Christopher replied as he addressed Betsy.
“I would like to introduce you to Mrs. Stevenson.”
Betsy gave Anna a welcoming smile. “Pleasure to meet you again, Mrs. Stevenson.”
“Likewise,” Anna replied. She grabbed Christopher by his arm and pulled him a few feet away. “I have already been introduced to those women. So why are you introducing me to the…the…”
“Other women,” he filled in for her. “My dear. These women are not what you have heard. Miss Reynolds’s brother is a highly-thought-of shipping merchant. The lady to her left, Mrs. Ramey, is the wife of a silversmith. The other women in the group are the nieces of many of the business owners of Wilmington.”
“My apologies,” she replied with a tight-lipped smile, not believing his answer. “But nevertheless, their reputations are far from untarnished. One of well-breeding does not socialize with such women.”
Christopher watched Anna squirm under the uncomfortable situation he had purposely placed her in.
“Like the officers’ wives are exemplary,” Miss Betsy interrupted, coming up from behind.
Anna’s eyes grew wide upon realizing the woman had overheard her conversation with Mr. Christopher.
“Oh, come now, Mrs. Stevenson. Surely you are not that naïve. You are married to an officer. But since you appear new to the station, I will inform you. Most of the wives are hypocrites. Many have lovers that their husbands are unaware of. Why, several of the officers are raising illegitimate children, thinking they are their own.”
Anna held her tongue. This was not a conversation anyone should participate in. Miss Reynolds was too bold. Plus, she was not about to give her husband one bit of ammunition to add to his already existing distaste for her. For if she did, he would turn back into the man he was before she announced she was expecting.
“Mr. Christopher, it was a pleasure meeting you. Now if you will excuse me,” Anna turned from the group and returned to the location by the window.
Christopher followed suit. “Mrs. Stevenson.”
“What do you want now, Mr. Christopher?” Anna asked with annoyance.
“I feel I must apologize for introducing you to those ladies.”
“You are correct.”
“I thought it best if I introduced you so you know who they are. Who you are dealing with.”
“I tried to tell you earlier that I had already met those women.”
“I apologize. But I feel that you should know what I am about to tell you. Those women are less than respectable, yes. But I believe that you needed to know those women. They like authority and will take great delight in trying to steal your husband’s attention.”
“So, you reintroduced me to a group of whores for my best interest?” she asked as her brow shot upward.
Her b
luntness caused a chuckle to escape Chris. “That is a refreshing way to put it, Mrs. Stevenson. But, yes, it was for your best interest. Should your husband require anything from those women or their families, please send him to me and I will acquire the items for you. I cannot have your marriage in shambles because of a group of women looking to increase their station in life.”
“So should I thank you or slap you, Mr. Christopher?”
“You are so refreshing,” he said again as his smile widened. “I like your straightforward responses. I’m sure your husband finds you delightful.”
Her eyes darted right. “Yes, he does.”
Another lie. Hmmmm? So she was not the blushing bride, deeply in love with her husband. This made Christopher’s job much easier. He no longer had to play the role of consoling shoulder but could in fact attempt to become her lover. Not that it would be a trying task. She was quite beautiful. Her steel blue eyes pierced him as she studied his expression.
“Is there another group I should worry about? A troupe of traveling gypsies looking to rob me blind? Or maybe a ring of spies hoping to seduce me in order to get closer to my husband?”
Her last statement caused a bead of sweat to dot Christopher’s temple. He pulled the lace handkerchief from the cuff of his sleeve and blotted the sides of his head.
“You do have a vivid imagination, Mrs. Stevenson. Why would gypsies be here?”
“I was only teasing, Mr. Christopher. But from your reaction I am assuming you would not care for a troupe of gypsies.”
“Yes,” he quickly replied. “I don’t care for them. I had an encounter with a group when I was in Europe several years ago. Disgraceful group of individuals.”
“I found them exciting.”
“You have met gypsies?”
“Yes. There was a group that stayed at my friend’s grandfather’s estate several years ago. Their lively dancing and fortune-telling abilities were amusing,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes.
“I believe you are not joking, Mrs. Stevenson. I do say, does your husband know of your fascination with fortune-tellers?”
She swallowed nervously. “No. Please do not mention it to him, Mr. Christopher. I am afraid he would not understand such a girlish action.”
Chris waved his hand in the air. “It is dismissed. Now, I must be off. Please stop by my shop sometime. I have the best merchandise to be found during wartime.”
“I look forward to it,” Anna answered.
Christopher gave a short bow and bid Anna good-bye and left. He entered his carriage and headed to his townhome. Once inside, he quickly changed from the disguise he was wearing into something more comfortable. Heading down the stairs, he walked into his study and spied Cameron sitting behind his large oak desk with his stocking feet resting on it.
“Would you please get your smelly feet off my desk?”
The corner of Cameron’s mouth twitched with humor. “I was wondering when you would return. And I must say I am surprised you are so back early. Did something go wrong?”
Chris walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a snifter of brandy. He walked to his desk and knocked Cameron’s feet off. “That is my chair.”
Cameron shrugged. He stood up and walked to the sofa. “So?”
“Nothing went wrong. It went rather well.”
“Good. So is Mrs. Stevenson open to you being a consoling shoulder?”
“There will be no need in that.”
The corner of Cameron’s mouth curled upward with interest. “Please explain.”
“She is not pregnant,” Chris said.
“Interesting. How did you find this out? I’m certain she did not tell you this.”
“She did. When I told her I heard that she was expecting, she lied about it.”
“So you straight out asked her and she lied to you about being pregnant? How do you know she was lying?” Cameron’s doubt was obvious.
Christopher sighed. “I say, Cam, how in this world you ever became a spy is beyond me. No. She said the information I heard was correct, but she was lying. She is not pregnant and is not in love with her husband. If I read her correctly, she despises the man.”
“Perfect! So when do you plan on bedding her?”
“You’re as blunt as she is.”
“Sassy, too? And Stevenson hasn’t beaten her yet?”
“I swear, Cameron, it would be easier to have a conversation with a drunken opossum than you.”
Cameron gave his brother a toothy grin. “Keeps you on your toes, old man. So when are you bedding her?”
“These things can’t be planned. They just happen.”
“Well, don’t take too long. The cause needs you to be swift in your mission.”
“I know how to do my job, Cameron,” Christopher snapped. “Just because I messed up one time—”
“And it cost Constance her life,” Cameron bitterly replied. The light-hearted mood in the room quickly changing.
“I am not the only one to blame, Cameron.”
Cameron stood up and walked to the fireplace. He rested his forearm on the mantel as his mind drifted to the past. He had been on a mission several years ago. When Cameron returned, he did not report as ordered but went home to see his pregnant wife, Constance. God, he loved her. She was a breath of sunshine in the darkness of war. Her light brown hair had specks of copper streaked throughout causing it to shimmer. Her brown eyes were soft and kind. He had fallen in love with her at first sight. They wed a week after meeting—before he became a spy. He acquired a job at a livery to support them. It was hard work for the simple fact that it was stable—boring—but he didn’t mind for at night he would return to his home, his wife.
Then his father summoned him and his life changed forever. Once he had a taste of the spy ring, he couldn’t leave. A week before Constance’s death, he went on a mission. Christopher was to stay behind at Cameron’s home. However, Christopher was called to report. When Cameron returned home, he was arrested. Someone had reported that he had killed a British Colonel and the woman he was courting. Cameron proclaimed his innocence but was not able to prove it for there were several witnesses to the crime. Not even Constance’s insistence that he was home the entire evening helped. He was tossed in prison. Constance came to see him in the dead of night in order to help him escape. She was caught and was shot before his eyes.
“No, you are not. I blame Tallmadge’s man just as much. He knew I was on a mission and that it was vital for you to stay with Constance in order for our cover to not be revealed,” Cameron bitterly admitted.
“What about yourself?”
“What?” Cameron asked as he whipped around to face his brother, his green eyes filled with anger.
“You were supposed to report in. If you had, then you would not have been placed in that situation. You would have had your witnesses.”
Cameron clenched his jaw as he glared at his brother.
“I know you loved her, Cam. I know how much she meant to you. But you cannot put all the blame of her death on me. I was following orders, just like you should have been.”
“She was my wife! Those bastards murdered her in cold blood! Right in front of my eyes!”
“I know that, Cameron. We all mourned her. But you have yet to stop.”
“I have moved on,” Cameron whispered.
“No you have not. You have buried her physically but not mentally. You jump from woman to woman, unable to fill the void left in your soul by her passing. You will not find peace until you let Constance rest in peace.”
A snort escaped Cameron. “Look at you talking about letting go, when you have never found someone who gives your life meaning.”
“You have no idea what you are talking about,” Christopher softly admitted.
“Don’t I? You never have loved another—”
“I killed my own wife, Cam! So do not tell me about not knowing about love and heartache.”
“You have never been married, Chris.”
Christopher kept his eyes on the glass and finally whispered, “I was.”
“When?”
Christopher downed his drink and fixed his gaze on his brother. “Two years ago.”
“Who?”
“Her name was Edith. We married in secret. She had traveled here from London with her father. I knew that if Tallmadge discovered I had married a loyalist then I would not be able to help with our cause.”
Cameron ran his hand down the side of his face. “Judas, Chris.”
“The night I left Constance, I was given an assignment. I figured you would have reported back before I returned and if anything should happen then you would have an alibi.” He stood and walked to the liquor cabinet. Pulling out the decanter of brandy, he drank from the bottle. “Constance was not the only one to die because of those events. I was to gather intel from a man at a tavern about ten miles north of Williamsburg. On the way back, I stopped by Edith’s home and found her in bed with a British major.”
“Did he—”
A bitter snort exited Chris. “No, it was consensual. She was thoroughly enjoying his company.” Chris turned away from his brother. He swallowed hard causing his Adam’s apple to move. “She was moaning like a whore all the while riding him like he was a damn stud horse she was trying to break.” A dark presence came over Christopher. “I was so furious I could think of nothing but killing that bastard where he lay. I made myself known. Edith climbed off her lover and approached me. I raised my pistol and shot towards the man. She jumped in front of the bullet.” Cameron watched as Chris clenched his jaw, his eyes shining with tears that he refused to let flow. “She risked her life to save a damned Redcoat.” He took another drink from the decanter and continued, “The colonel reached for his pistol. I knocked it from his hand and ran him through with my sword. Just as my blade pierced that bastard’s heart, I heard a scream from one of the servants at the door. I bolted.”
“Chris…why didn’t you tell me this before?”
