When he returned, her door was open and she had discarded her dress and stood in her shift, which was tattered and came scarcely to her knees. “Don’t stare. You’ve already seen my legs and, if you’ll notice, they are still covered with dirt.” She took a cloth and first wiped herself down her face and arms with the water, and then her legs and feet. She rinsed the dirty water into another bucket. She was reminded of bathing in front of Doctor Franklin. Having Will see her was much more pleasant.
“Now I feel better,” she said and then looked at him quizzically. “It’s been time enough, hasn’t it?”
He was uncertain of her meaning, so just nodded. She sighed and removed the shift. Will could only stare at her nakedness and she smiled wistfully at him. “Undress,” she commanded softly and he complied.
“You’re still much too thin.” She said as she put her hands on his chest. “I can still feel your ribs.”
She sighed and took him by the hand and led him to the bed. They lay down facing each other. He was almost afraid to reach over the scant inches to her. She smiled. “You will not rush things, Major Drake. You will take all the time in the world and you will do exactly as I tell you. Understand?”
Will laughed softly. The bed was narrow, but they’d make it more than adequate. “Fully, Mistress Benton, but may I ask why you have changed your mind about waiting?”
She sighed as his hands caressed her. “Because Faith and I had a long talk about living for today because tomorrow may never come.” His lips were on her breast and his hand had begun to caress the moist softness between her thighs. She groaned with long-denied pleasure. “And because we love each other, dear Will, and, regardless of what happens, I want to have as many moments with you as I possibly can.”
In the room next to theirs, Benjamin Franklin lay on his bed with his eyes open and smiled as he listened to the sounds of their lovemaking. About damned time, he thought.
* * *
Burgoyne was not in a good mood. “Fitzroy, please remind me why I should not have you executed?”
“Because, dear General, it’s taken you so long to get used to me and because we are related, albeit distantly, which means my mother would be angry with you.”
“Good points both,” Burgoyne growled in mock anger. “Then upon whom might I take out my righteous wrath?”
“Might I suggest General Arnold?”
“He would be a marvelous target but for the fact that he is so self-centered and dense that he would not understand my displeasure with him. Which, by the way, is why I feel the urge to punish you instead. At least you would feel pain, whereas Arnold never would. Do you realize he considers it my fault that he lost his ships? In a way, he’s right. I should never have put the bloody fool in charge.”
Arnold had not yet arrived although, instead, he had sent a series of messages trying to explain away the disaster and blame someone else. He was now on board the Vixen and would arrive as soon as it was safe for him to land. The remainder of his men, the crew’s barges and the late and unlamented Rudyard’s infantry, were marching overland following much the same route as that taken by Danforth.
“Sir, may I ask if he’s managed to salvage any of the cannon?”
“All of two of them, Fitzroy. Two out of all he had. Of course he has no powder, no carriages and very little shot for them. We can improvise some sort of carriage, but, as discussed, I’m afraid they will be reduced to firing rocks.”
Burgoyne looked out his tent. It was raining heavily, which further made him gloomy. “After all the damage he has caused, can you believe that Arnold has the effrontery to remind me that I had promised him command of one of our wings in the coming battle and he expects me to keep his promise. It would be ludicrous if it wasn’t so pathetic.”
Fitzroy shook his head in disbelief. “And what will you do with the man, sir?”
Burgoyne glared at him and Fitzroy wondered if he’d gone too far with the implied slur of a general officer. No matter that general in question was so heartily despised by one and all, there were lines junior officers didn’t cross.
Suddenly, Burgoyne laughed. “Oh he’ll get command of a wing, all right, but like a chicken’s wing, he won’t be able to fly very well with it.”
Chapter 17
The rain had ceased for the moment, although the low gray sky promised more. Sarah was delighted since it meant that nature would fill the swamp and the creek and the efforts of the women would not be needed for a while.
She and Faith were casually wandering the area between Fort Washington and the low hill that had been fortified against the British when they saw men running towards it and clambering up its rain-slickened slope. The two women looked at each other and began running as well. By the time they slipped through the mud and reached the crest, the trenches were beginning to fill with soldiers and a number of civilians. There didn’t seem to be much of a plan or sense of urgency.
To her delight, she found Will standing by General Tallmadge, and both men were peering through telescopes at the distant tree line. He was so intent he didn’t notice her at first, so she tugged gently on his sleeve.
“What’s out there, Will?”
He handed her the telescope. “Look towards the edge of the woods at the line where we’ve cut the trees and made the meadow that much larger.”
She squinted and looked through the lens. The area in question was a good two miles distant and, at first she saw nothing except a wall of trees. Then her eyes began to pick up flashes, almost drops, of unnatural color. Red. She gasped. They were here.
All the blood seemed to rush from her and she almost felt faint. Like virtually everyone, she’d hoped and prayed that this day would never arrive. “Those are the British, aren’t they?”
“Yes, dearest, those are the British. Just scouts and patrols, and not even the advance guard, but the British have finally arrived.”
She looked again, hoping she was wrong. She wasn’t. A couple of Redcoats had moved out of the tree line and stood in plain but distant sight. They were merely specks, but they moved and had arms and legs. Will commented that the British were probably officers accompanying Indian scouts, and that they likely were watching through their own telescopes. She wondered if they should all wave.
“What are you going to do?” Faith asked.
Tallmadge answered. “I rather doubt that General Stark will have us do much of anything except continue to observe them. We’ll watch them draw closer and they’ll watch us watching them. I also rather doubt that the British will do anything until they are in place, rested, fed, and organized.”
Three red-coated horsemen emerged from the distant woods. They paused and appeared to be examining the American position, doubtless again with their own telescopes.
“Is that Burgoyne?” Sarah asked.
“More likely it’s Tarleton, as he commands the van,” Tallmadge answered. “I would think that Burgoyne’s farther back.”
“Will you shoot at him?” Faith persisted. “Your cannon can reach that far, can’t they?”
Will was about to answer that the cannon taken from the stockade were small and their shells would need wings to carry that far when the horsemen obliged them by turning and moving back into the forest.
“What will they do now?” Sarah asked. “And what will we do?”
Will took her arm and led her away. Faith followed, caught up and then took his other arm. “First, it will take some time for the entire British Army to arrive and, when they do, they will doubtless encamp so they can rest and get organized for a battle. Given the length of the column and the supplies that Burgoyne requires, that could take at least a couple of days. What we will do is continue to prepare our defenses while our patrols keep an eye on them and make sure they do not try to move away and flank us. We don’t think they will do anything of the sort, but we must be prepared in case they do.”