“Of course.”

  Lists appeared in Simon’s mind. A letter to his steward and foreman. He would send for Jax.

  “Not a bad time of year for such a trip. Planting won’t start for at least that long.”

  “Mr. Morgan, I don’t know how I can thank you.” Clementine took one of his hands in both of hers. “I’ll be off to bed now. Can you be ready in two days?”

  “I believe I can. I will make some arrangements and send word to confirm when I have completed my preparations.”

  Clementine swept from the room.

  Reed poured them each a drink. “Sit down, son. I’ve a question to ask you before you embark on this journey.”

  They sat across from each other in front of the small fire. Reed spoke so softly Simon wasn’t sure he heard him.

  “Did you ask me if I’m prepared to marry your daughter if she is compromised on this trip?”

  “Yes. Keep your voice down, I’ve no wish for the entire house to know our business.”

  “Have you asked Amity this question?”

  Reed nodded his affirmation and took another sip of the amber liquid.

  “And she said yes?” Simon’s spirit shot like a star across the sky.

  “Yes, she did. Of course she doesn’t think anything like that can happen to her.”

  His spirit dropped to its usual place. “Is that why she was in the soldier’s camp today?”

  “She’s researching a book. And mind you, she writes well, but she doesn’t understand the world. She thinks she can wander all over God’s earth as if she’s back home.”

  Images of Amity on a stool in the camp in the midst of the mob of soldiers came to his mind. “I noticed.”

  “I’ve protected her for too long.”

  A picture of Field’s wife, Delany, trapped under a smuggler replaced Amity in an instant.

  “What else are we to do with girls, Reed? True evil can ruin them.”

  “True evil can ruin anyone.”

  “Yes, but we’re stronger.”

  “Sometimes.”

  Simon filled his lungs. He’d had about enough arguing with Archers for one day. “Physically we are stronger than women.”

  “Yes, but are we as resilient? I’ve seen my wife smile after two solid days of ungodly caterwauling of one of her children.”

  Simon offered his glass in salute. “That’s not evil.”

  “No, but it is strength.”

  Simon let his eyes glaze over at the flames dancing in the grate.

  “It is past time that she grew up and learned something of the world.”

  Outrage turned Simon to Reed. “You’ll let her put herself at risk?”

  “No. That’s what you are for. I expect you to keep her safe from herself and others.”

  “I don’t have the authority to do that.”

  “You did a fine job today at the camp.” Reed sipped. “Later in the mob.”

  “You heard about that?”

  “A friend sent a message just before you arrived. You handled it as I would have. Am I happy about it? No. But Amity will put herself in danger until she learns some sense. Hopefully, this trip will teach her something.”

  “Reed. I don’t think—”

  “You’re not fooling me, son. I’ve seen the way you look at my daughter. The way you looked at me when you thought I didn’t care enough to escort her to an ordinary.”

  Reed had him there. Simon glanced down at the fire reflected in his glass. “She told me once that she didn’t think we would suit.”

  “She said that, did she?” Reed chuckled. “Her mother told me the same thing.”

  “I respected her wishes and stayed away.”

  “How old was she?” Simon asked.

  “Seventeen.”

  “How old was Mrs. Archer when you married?”

  “Eighteen. Look Simon, it’s hard for a girl to see a man clearly when she is so young. She’s not allowed to be with you alone. Even chaperoned, she can only spend a few minutes at a time.”

  “What changed Mrs. Archer’s mind about you?”

  “I fixed a situation she thought was of my making. More importantly she needed to see that I was not my father.”

  “I’m confident Amity doesn’t think I’m anything like you, sir.”

  “It doesn’t matter what bothered her then. This is your chance to change her mind about you now.”

  “I have your blessing then?”

  Reed nodded. “So what will you do about it?”

  “I guess I’m going to Winchester.”

  ~*~

  A shutter banged against her window and knocked Amity right out of a deep sleep. Tendrils of a dream gently pulled her back in. Why was it so bright in her room?

  Lucy rushed to the window to fasten the shutter back in place. “Miss Amity. That wind is howlin’” The blast of cold air whipped the pages of Amity’s journal and sent her carefully penned note to Mary to the floor. Amity jumped out of bed. “What time is it?”

  “Half past nine. I figured as you was out so late you need your rest.”

  “Have this note taken to Mrs. Mary Cook. She is serving in the Army camp the other side of the college.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “And hurry. I hope to see Mary for tea today.”

  Amity chose her warmest brown woolen petticoat and mantua. Making her way down to breakfast she thanked the Lord for a day free of plans. She would have plenty of time to revise what she’d written and work on further questions for Mary.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.” Clementine folded her copy of Purdy’s Virginia Gazette. “I have news.”

  “What news?”

  “Get your breakfast.”

  Amity chose a plate from the sideboard and filled it with ham and bread.

  “Your father has spoken to your Mr. Morgan.”

  Amity placed a hand on her stomach to keep it from rolling. She’d hoped Simon wouldn’t tell Papa about the mob. She took a quiet, deep breath and squared her shoulders. She meant what she said. She wasn’t sorry. “He is not my Mr. Morgan. You heard Papa, if he was interested in me, he would have offered years ago.”

  “Do you want to hear the news or not?”

  Amity’s face warmed. “Of course.”

  Clementine passed the tea.

  “Mr. Morgan agreed to escort us to Winchester. We leave in two days’ time.”

  “You are not jesting, are you, Aunt?”

  “Certainly not.” Clementine stirred her tea…a conspiratorial twinkle lit her blue eyes. “I never jest about adventure.”

  Amity clasped her hands together and let the biggest smile she was capable of erupt across her face. “I cannot believe it! You are absolutely sure?”

  “You may ask your father when you see him if you don’t believe me.”

  “I am sorry. If you knew how I’ve longed to see something beyond fifty miles from home.” She sighed. “All the places I’ve read about.”

  “Well, my dear. Winchester is not so grand a place, but we shall see it.” Clementine slipped back behind her paper.

  Amity didn’t taste her breakfast as her mind raced through the possibilities of their trip. They would have to take the King’s Highway through Fredericksburg then west toward Winchester. Robbie had provided all the details during her last visit. Perhaps Clementine was right; Winchester may be underwhelming, but this was only the beginning of her travels. She would prove that a woman could travel on her own safely. Then the only limit was her imagination. Her dreams took full flight thinking of trips to cool cliff breezes all the way to the desert heat of Egypt.

  Amity plunged into packing. She was up to her elbows in her trunk when Lucy announced Mary’s arrival. She took a moment to look in the glass to straighten her hair before grabbing ink and paper.

  Mary stood before Clementine with a blond-haired bundle suspended on her hip.

  “He is two this past week,” Mary said as Amity entered the parlor.

  Amity put her quill and ink on a side table.

  “This must be Danny.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Danny tucked his head into Mary’s shoulder. “I hope ye don’t mind. I couldn’t leave him.”

  “Don’t give it another thought,” Clementine said. “It’s good to see a baby.” She stuck a finger toward Danny’s belly. The toddler smiled from his mother’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen my grandchildren since Christmas.”

  “He makes me wish to see my younger brothers.” Amity smiled at the little boy.

  Tense lines in Mary’s face relaxed into a smile at their welcome.

  “I invited Mary to tea so she could finish telling me about her ordeal at Norfolk.”

  “You were at Norfolk?” Momentarily distracted from the child, Clementine searched her face.

  “My husband fought. I was in camp.”

  “Of course.” Clementine reached for Danny. “Will he come to me?”

  Danny leaned his body over, and Clementine scooped him up. “Would you like to find some toys?” Clementine raised her eyebrows at Mary. Mary nodded her approval. Clementine took him into a room across the hall.

  “My friend Jane—you met her yesterday—wanted to come. I told her ye can’t just invite y’self to tea at someone’s house. But I did say I would ask if ye wanted to talk to her too.”

  “Was she—”

  “The one with no manners? Yes.” Mary glanced quickly around the room. The crimson papered walls and settees must look opulent to someone living in a tent. “She’s not so bad once you get to know her. She can be hard to get to know.”

  Amity gestured to her new friend. “Please sit down and be comfortable.”

  Mary sat on the edge of a cream-colored settee. “I laughed when I read ye note inviting me to tea.”

  “I thought you might.”

  Danny toddled in carrying a ball on a stick.

  Clementine followed carrying a small box of toys.

  “These belong to my grandchildren.” She placed the box near Mary. “I shall see about some refreshment.”

  “I thought I saw you in the crowd last night.”

  Mary shook her head. “I was home with Danny. Jonathan vowed he’d leave if Colonel Henry wasn’t...reinstated, or whatever the word is.”

  “He didn’t leave without you?”

  “No. Colonel Henry spent the entire night in the camp. Going from fire to fire. When he was done, they was settled down. I reckon they’ll stay and do their duty when all’s said and done.”

  “You don’t mind?” Amity retrieved her writing implements. “I’ll never remember all of this if I don’t take some notes.”

  “You go right ahead.” Mary slipped off the chair onto the floor with Danny.

  “However do you sit down there with all your petticoats and things?”

  “We’d catch fire for sure if we wore as much as proper ladies. Not that we ain’t proper, ye understand.” She sat up a little straighter and looked Amity in the eye. “I work for the Army. General Washington pays me for my work.”

  “So you are a patriot, Mary.”

  Mary grinned. “Yes, miss. I am that.”

  “Would you have tried to go to the Army if you hadn’t followed your husband?”

  “You mean like them stories? I haven’t met any of them women that’s pretending to be men so they can fight. I don’t think I’d’ve had the gumption for that.”

  “But you followed Daniel.”

  “It’s different, isn’t it? Daniel was my husband. Where else would I want to be?”

  “What happened to your home?”

  Puzzlement crossed her features.

  “Don’t you have a home of your own to go back to when this is over?”

  “No. Daniel and I lived on his parents’ farm before the Army. We planned to go back there and build a house not far...” Tears spilled down her cold-reddened cheeks. She teased a blonde curl from Danny as he chewed on a block.

  Clementine sailed into the room followed by Matilda carrying a tea tray. “May I give Danny a cookie?”

  Mary wiped her face with a handkerchief while nodding her consent.

  “It’s warmer here by the fire, if you would like to move closer.” Clementine suggested.

  “I believe I’m thawing out right here. I might leave a puddle by the time I’m through.”

  Clementine and Amity both laughed.

  “My dear, you are welcome in my home anytime,” Clementine said.

  As the afternoon faded into evening, Mary told her story of following her husband to the Army.

  Amity took copious notes. This time when Mary told of fighting with Captain Squire at Hampton, Amity did not see Simon; she saw Danny.

  “Will you come tomorrow?” Amity asked when Mary stood to take her leave.

  “If ye wish it. Do ye still want to see Jane?”

  Amity nodded. The more women and soldiers she could interview the better for the book that was taking shape in her mind.

  Mary and Danny left their home with cheerful goodbyes and walked down the street toward the camp.

  “So tell me about this book you propose to write.” Clementine smiled when Amity returned to the parlor.

  The wonder of the task filled her heart. The worry that she was naive or worse, full of hubris, twisted her stomach. “I’m not sure what the final outcome will be, but I want to tell the story of this time.”

  Clementine gestured for her to continue.

  “I have read so many adventures of people traveling around the world. But they leave out all the important elements. Like how people live in different parts of the world. I want to write that.”

  “Like the women serving in the Army.”

  “Exactly. I never thought of women being there, fighting alongside their men and brothers.”

  “I am continually astounded by how much of our lives remain untouched by the war we are actively fighting. Life goes on, planting, dancing, marrying…”

  “After spending time with Mary I’m not sure I can. How can I do justice to her sacrifice?”

  “If you don’t write it, who will?”

  Her stomach eased. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “A worthy endeavor. You write it, I’ll see to it that it’s printed.”

  11

  A stiff gale pebbled Simon with sandy debris as he dodged traffic across Duke of Gloucester Street to the Raleigh Tavern.

  “Mr. Morgan?” A short, square man approached dressed in a sober brown frock coat, plain vest, and breeches.

  “Dr. Ritter?”

  “Yes.”

  Simon bowed. “It is an honor, sir.”

  “The honor is mine.”

  “I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I have been reading your papers since I was in the schoolroom.” Simon smiled.

  Ritter flushed pink and a twinkle lit his blue eyes. “Time is an interesting thing, is it not? Perhaps we should commence our business together before I hit my dotage, eh?” He spun toward the stairs. “I’ve set up in my room. Less likely to be disturbed. Come with me.”

  Simon followed the man up a narrow set of stairs. On a rectangular pine table under the only window in the small room sat a wooden box filled with bottles connected at the top by thin brass rods. To its left stood an apparatus that reminded Simon of his mother’s spinning wheel albeit turned on its side.

  At the top of this electricity-producing machine perched a glass sphere. Three needles ascended from the globe to converge into one at the top. This primary needle was connected via a thin wire to the bottles in the box.

  To the right of the box on the table sat a sealed, three-foot glass tube. The bottom hosted a brass disk, midway down the tube was another brass disk.

  “Dr. Watson’s experiment, is it?”

  A young boy emerged from Ritter’s enthusiasm. “You know it?”

  “Only what Priestly wrote about it. I have yet to see it performed.”

  “It’s more impressive in the dark, but as it is day, we shall have to do what we can.” He drew the curtain. Ritter applied himself to link the electrostatic machine with the battery. “Are you ready?”

  Simon indicated that he was indeed ready.

  Ritter turned the crank on the machine. After a few turns a spark leapt across the line to the glass bottles.

  “They charge all at once you see.” Ritter waved over the box. “Now, watch this.” He connected the battery to the glass tube.

  Instantly electric fire arced between the two brass plates in the glass tube, causing it to glow. It lasted a few seconds.

  “Can you do it again?”

  “Of course.”

  Dr. Ritter stepped through the same procedures again with the same result.

  “How can we make it last longer?”

  “Good question, my boy.”

  “It needs a constant supply of electricity.”

  “And uninterrupted flow—” He counted on his fingers “—and we may need a way to contain the heat. Those plates are not hot, but this is a very short experiment. Suppose we wanted to keep the light on as long as we burn a candle?”

  The answer to brighter, sustainable light dangled just out of grasp, but it wouldn’t be long.

  “Is there any way that I may assist you?”

  “I assume you mean besides financial assistance.” Simon nodded his agreement, although he wasn’t averse to that aspect either. “Perhaps there is. Shall I write to you of my next steps?”

  “Yes, sir. I should be delighted to help in any way I can.” Simon shook the man’s hand and prepared to leave when he remembered the stone. “Dr. Ritter. Might I ask you a favor?”

  “Depends on what it is.”

  “I have recently acquired an artifact. I would like to understand its properties.”

  “You would like to test it on my machine?”

  “Yes.”

  “All it will tell you is whether it conducts electricity or not.”

  “I know, but it’s a rather unusual thing.”

  “Let’s see it.”

  Simon handed him the stone.

  “Is this what I think it is? The Horeb Stone?”

  “You know of it?”

  Dr. Ritter held it up to the light. “I would be surprised at any educated man not being aware of the stone.” He handed it back to Simon. “How came you by it?”