Enemy of Mine (27 page)

William

Erva clutched the note to her still bear chest, blinking and thinking. God, Will was supposed to die tomorrow. She’d never told him. How could she? Well, she wouldn't. He was going to retire, saving his life. Still, she was petrified.

She knew the history, knew what would happen today. Even with new finds and since the advent of anthropology helping the field of history, she knew that what once was considered fact could change the next day. And she too was changing history.

But would it let her?

Where were those bickering muses when she needed them anyway? Why hadn’t they come for her?

Erva knew the answer. They were coming tomorrow. They would be here either before or after Will was going to die. And there was no way she would let that happen.

She ran to the bureau, opening it wide and found a shift. Putting it on in record time, she laced up her own stays. Her last one, she realized. Will had torn her others. Her body smoldered at the memory. She’d loved it when he’d been so visceral with need for her. Her breasts ached, but she had no time to savor the recollection. She had to find Will and make sure he stayed safe. Yes, she knew that at the battle of Kip’s Bay the Continentals ran once the cannonade from the British Royal Navy started. But she couldn’t put anything to chance. This was her life, the
rest
of her life, and she needed to secure it.

Frantically, Erva found a white simple dress and even managed to sew herself in, then braided her hair as she left the chamber. Good grief, she’d just thought of the room as a chamber, hadn’t she? Yes, she could fit in during this time. It wouldn’t be difficult, especially when considering that out of the deal she would marry Will. God, she really should have studied more about the peerage. Of course, she knew the rudimentary details, but little else. Well, she would learn it rather well shortly. As long as she kept Will alive.

She flew down the stairs where Mrs. Jacobs ran toward her. “Lady Ferguson, where do ye intend ye’re going?”

“I’m finding the general and getting him home.”

Mrs. Jacobs, the adorable little woman, bit her bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. “I’ve heard about the engagement and my hearty congratulations to the both of ye, but ye cannot go out into the midst of this war, my lady.”

“Why not?”

Mrs. Jacobs blinked, staring at her for a moment too long. “’Tisn’t the place for a lady to be.” Her voice was calm and trying to be patient.

Erva lifted a brow.

Mrs. Jacobs snorted a laugh. “Ye can’t be serious, my lady. Ye can’t go out there. Can’t ye hear the cannon boomin’? They’re raging war, and that’s no place for a lady.”

Erva took a step closer to Mrs. Jacobs, not too sure what to say. She could tell her she’d been in the middle of a Taliban skirmish with rocket launchers. She could say something about her time in the Army’s intelligence unit. She could have said many things.

Instead, she took a deep breath. “Where’s Paul?”

“With the General, my lady.”

Gritting her teeth Erva realized she’d have to find Will on her own then. She nodded and left without another word. Jogging toward the livery stables, she thought of maybe just running to the docks of New York. It couldn’t be that far.

But she was fairly certain that she couldn’t make that kind of run in her idiotic shoes. She wore tiny silk slippers she was pretty sure would fall apart any second. But she couldn’t find where Will had thrown her other pair, the more industrious leather shoes that were anything but pretty. The liveryman scurried to her, panting.

“My lady, what may I help you with?”

“I need a good horse, please.”

Another cannon exploded somewhere east of them, and both Erva and the man shrank from the noise.

“Maybe a horse that’s deaf?” Erva asked.

The man with graying hair blinked at her a few times. “You wish to ride out in this?”

She nodded.

His shoulders stooped. “The lord would not want that.”

Erva thought of Will who probably wouldn’t want her out in a maelstrom of cannon balls. But she couldn’t help but think of tomorrow. He would fight valiantly, although one of his comrades would tease the Continental Army with a bugle fox song that would anger them enough to turn around during their retreat and fight back. It would be the first time the Americans actually made the British think that they were more than just rabble.

After Will’s death, which Howe took rather badly, his usual restraint in battle against the Americans was lost. He would beat them again and again.

All of that would happen if she didn’t keep Will safe.

Swallowing, she somehow felt that the liveryman was a better listener than Mrs. Jacobs. “I know. I’m sorry to put you in such a predicament, but I’m so worried about the General.”

He nodded. “I can understand why. It would be mighty hard on me to wait as a loved one went off to war.”

“I promise I’ll stay in safe places.” She lied. “I—I just want to ensure he stays out of danger.”

Combing a few thin gray strands of hair over his head, the liveryman nodded. “Mayhap I should go with you.”

She shook her head and clutched at the man’s shirtsleeve. “Please, don’t trouble yourself. Plus, if Will doesn’t see you, then I won’t tell him you helped me. He’ll never know.”

“Oh, my lady, I don’t care about that. And I don’t care about the man’s wrath, if he has such a temperament. But I do understand love. Please don’t be reckless.”

At that Erva couldn’t hold back and hugged the small man in a tight hold.

Within a few minutes she sat upon a white horse with amazing blue eyes that the liveryman—Amos, she finally found out his name—had said was deaf. She didn’t trust herself to sit sidesaddle, so she sat astride the beast, first making sure her petticoats were under her. God, she might have to invent panties, knowing how useful they could be when riding a horse.

Finally she was off, trotting through the cobblestone streets, trying to remember her way to the pier. Well, even if she forgot entirely, she did have the noise from the Royal Navy, continually firing off cannons every few minutes. After a little time alone with the horse, she got it to cantor, while she tried to remember how Will had used his hips to ride more comfortably with the horse’s stride. God, she wished she could be with him now. Fear pricked her skin, making her feel feverish and as if she might cry at any moment.

Down at the docks there were lines of soldiers, horses everywhere, and the huge sailboats, the Man of Wars, slicing through the water aiming at Manhattan. The smell of the sea mixed with gunpowder assaulted her nostrils, making her blink. The pier itself was not much other than a few docks, where not a boat was tethered. The sandy beach that surrounded the wooden planks glowed gold, and might have been a serene scene, if it weren’t for the red-clad soldiers, preparing for war, on the rocky soil. On Manhattan, across the mighty Hudson River, smoke spiraled to the blue sky, and Erva saw lines of redcoats on the island as well. Too many lobsterbacks to make heads or tails who was whom. She tried peering into the crowd of men around her, all seeming to be hot, and many now openly gawking at her. She supposed she did look a sight in her all white dress, white horse, and her hair hanging over her shoulder, without even a hat. She hadn’t thought of wearing gloves, she’d been too much in a hurry.

God, how could she find Will in all this?

“My lady?”

Erva faintly heard a shy, female voice call out.

“Lady Ferguson?”

She finally spotted a pretty blonde waving and walking toward her in a rush.

“You are the Lady Ferguson,
je
?”

The woman’s German accent was now noticeable. Erva nodded.

In a light blue dress and matching hat, the woman curtsied, while Erva kept staring down at her from her horse’s height.

“I am Friederike Riedesel. My husband—”

“Mrs. Riedesel?” Erva interrupted, because she knew who she was. Friederike was the wife of one of the most brilliant Hessian officers to come to the continent for the war. And she went everywhere with her husband, including their children.

“
Je
, that is my name. Has your man spoken of my husband? By the by, I know of the announcement and congratulations on your wedding with General Hill.”

“Thank you,” was all Erva could think of to say. She was breathless because she couldn’t believe she was meeting a woman who’d kept a pristine diary of her doings here during the war. It was thanks to the woman before her that many historians knew so much of what life was like for the Hessians as well as camp followers. But also whirling around in Erva’s mind was the fact that everyone seemed to know from some announcement that she was getting married to Will. It was making Twitter look slow. However, more than anything she wanted Will beside her. Her fear of what might be happening was overcoming her.

Friederike reached up a hand to Erva. “I am very pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Erva said while shaking the hand offered. “You haven’t happened to see General Hill, have you?”

“This morning, before the battle,
je
.” Friederike smiled shyly as she took back her hand, placing it over her heart. “He seemed most happy.”

Erva felt her cheeks begin to burn, although she was already warm from the early fall sun. But she pressed on. “You wouldn’t happen to know how I could find him in all this, would you?”

Friederike’s grin widened. “You worry over him already? How sweet.”

Erva forced herself not to roll her eyes, but just nodded.

“Well, my lady, I’m sorry to say, that he will be most hard to find in the midst of this. You will have to wait. Wait with me. My children are at our home, and I have no one to talk to.”

Erva didn’t think she could merely wait, but if she sat then she could think of a plan to cross the river that lay between her and Will in the meantime.

After ensuring the white horse to a safe stable, Friederike showed her to an open tent, where under it a dark wood table sat with four matching chairs. On the table was an assortment of late fall fruits—apples and some berries. Cheese and some kind of crusty bread were close by too.

“Eat, my lady.”

Erva looked at Friederike who seemed to be wincing.

“My English is not so good. I’m sorry.”

Erva smiled as she sat opposite the pretty lady.
“Mein Deutsch ist nicht so gut.”

Friederike perked up, her eyes wide, and she clutched over her heart. “You speak my language?”

“Only a little. I’m sorry.”

Friederike’s blue eyes glistened with sudden tears. She blinked rapidly and clutched her handkerchief to face. “I’m so sorry, my lady, for my outburst. But I’ve been so lonely for a woman friend. And here you are, not only are you marrying a man my husband highly respects, but you speak my language.”

Erva wished she could say how nice it would be to become her friend. But she couldn’t have Will stay in the war another moment. Still, she had to say something.

“Ich fühle mich sehr geehrt,”
Erva said, relaying she was honored.

Friederike waved her kerchief in the air as she silently wiped at her tears. “I’m very happy now.”

“Me too.”

“Will you eat with me then? I know it is much past the lunch hour, but I couldn’t eat earlier. Too worried. Now that the battle seems to be passing, I think I can eat. You?”

Erva glanced at the sun in the sky. It was the afternoon. God, she’d slept for hours then, and trying to find Will hadn’t been a piece of cake, taking much longer than she’d wanted it to. It must have been around two in the afternoon. She should be hungry, but she touched her belly, feeling uneasy.

“I would love to eat, but I’m so nervous. Do you get nervous for your husband in...?” Erva gestured toward the sound of the cannons and the occasional far-off musket shot.

“Oh, yes. I get nervous every time. I was much more nervous when I was first married, I remember.” Friederike leaned forward conspiratorially. “I know I should not ask, but I was most nervous when I was with child. Could that be why the lady refuses to eat?”

Erva knew she truly blushed then, and shook her head. “I—no, I’m not.”

Friederike’s smile shimmered with mischief. “It is none of my business anyway. But I do like babies.”

More as a gesture to reassure her host that she wasn’t pregnant, Erva picked up an apple and ate it while thinking of how to cross the Hudson. For the next hour or so Erva went out of her mind as she listened to Friederike gossip about some of the British officers’ mistresses, then confide how much she’d wanted a friend, as she kept circling around the subject of having children.

Finally, Erva was thinking of swimming across the Hudson—hey, it wasn’t nearly as polluted as it would be in two hundred years—when she heard her name called out again. This time by a deep voice she recognized.

Standing, she rushed out of the tent to see Sergeant McDougal slowly walking toward her.

“That is you, my lady.” He bowed before he continued walking.

She halfway curtsied, but mainly threw herself at him, hugging him. He was dirty and smelled of gunpowder and wasn’t at all prepared for her embrace. But he laughed as he caught her.