Laurel Ames - Nancy Whiskey

“Are you sure it is not the rum rather than the weather?” Daniel asked as he stripped off his soaked coat in the confined space, revealing his hard-muscled frame through the wet cloth of his shirt.

“No…” Nancy faltered, trying to regain control of herself. “That’s rather forward of you.”

“Forgive my brother, child,” Trueblood said gently. “He was raised in the colonies and never had any pretensions to manners. Whereas I went to Oxford.”

“They are not colonies anymore, but a country, as you well know,” Daniel countered.

“Of course, Daniel. At least they pretend to be a country. But with all the petty bickering and. backbiting, not a country I hold out a great deal of hope for.”

“Why did you fight beside me then?”

“Hush, Daniel. I suppose we are not very alike for brothers, even half brothers.”

“Ah, but you argue like brothers, so appearances make no matter. And it was not the rum, for Papa can, in the ordinary way, drink like a fish with no ill effects.” Nancy shivered a little, then clamped her pale lips shut so that the men would not notice. “I must go back to my cabin now or I will catch my death of cold.”

“Let me escort you across the hall,” Trueblood said as he stood up to offer his arm, almost stepping on Daniel, who scrambled up and inhaled to let them past him. Her cabin was no more than two steps away, but Nancy took his arm anyway, with a nod gracious enough to match Trueblood’s manners. Somehow his playacting stole away the horror of almost having been washed overboard. But she had not been swept into the cold sea, so she decided not to dwell on it.

“Well, Daniel, not a very propitious encounter,” Trueblood said on his return to the cabin, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement.

“And Miss Nancy Riley is as much of an enigma as ever,” Daniel answered as he stripped off the rest of his wet clothes and managed to dry himself, though the tossing ship thrust him from bed to wall a dozen times. He was wondering how Nancy could possibly manage and wished he could help her.

“Does everything have to be a mystery to you?”

“She is far too genteel a lady to be traveling with a rough soldier. I cannot believe he is her father. Have you seen the way she blushes sometimes at meals at the language he uses?” Daniel pulled on dry breeches and a shirt, leaving his damp hair tousled.

“That has nothing to say to anything. Any woman might blush who must dine with half-a-dozen men, and Sergeant Riley is not the only one who forgets to guard his tongue. That trader Dupree sneaks in some very rude comments in his French, and they make her blush more than anything her father says.”

“I must know her story or I cannot be easy in my mind about her.”

“What are you thinking?” Trueblood whispered with a twinkle in his eyes. “That she is a spy, like you?”

“Of course not. I only want to make sure she travels with the man willingly, and I do not know how to broach the subject”. Daniel stripped the wet blanket off the bed and stretched out upon the narrow mattress.

“Simply ask her. Riley does not hang about her neck. When he is not off playing cards with that Canadian, Dupree, he is so drunk he pays no attention to her.”

“Yes, Riley is as thick as thieves with Dupree.”

“Who else has he to talk to with you ignoring him and me looking down my nose at him?”

“And Dupree, taking ship with us at the last moment like that,” Daniel whispered. “I think he may be on to me.

“Well, Daniel,” Trueblood said in a quiet voice, “why did you stay in Washington’s employ if you are to be forever looking over your shoulder?”

“You did not think performing secret services such a bad life those last years of the Revolution.”

“It paid well, and someone had to keep you from getting shot or hanged.”

“You did not care about the money any more than I did. I still don’t care about it. We make plenty on trade alone.”

“Why do you do it then, little brother?” Trueblood asked.

“What else do I have? You can go back to Champfreys. Your mother wants you home. She said so in her last letter.”

“As I recall, she begged you to come home as well.”

“Not until Father admits he was wrong, and he will never do that.”

“The war has been over a long time. If Father was a Loyalist then, he is not now. You do not have to keep playing the rebel all your life.”

“That is not why I bolted,” Daniel almost shouted.

“Why then?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Secrets even from me, Daniel?”

“Do not ask, Trueblood,” Daniel begged in anguish as he closed his eyes. “It was not true, what he accused me of. That is all I can say.”

“I believe you, little brother. But it has been sixteen years, half your life, since you left. Most likely he has forgotten what he said to drive you away.”

“Ah, but I have not.”

“So you remain in service, Captain Tallent, ununiformed, unappreciated and a prey to every suspicion that flits across your mind.”

“What will become of Nancy if Riley gambles away all his money before we reach Philadelphia?” Daniel had put his arms behind his head and was now staring intently at the bulkhead, his blue eyes troubled.

“Daniel, you can take on the affairs of a whole country if you want, but you cannot save every orphan and stray dog in it.”

“I know. She just seems so particularly defenseless.”

“I have a suggestion.”

“I know, mind my own business.” He rolled onto his side and buried his head in the pillow.

“Why don’t you just ask her about her circumstances?”

“At which point she will accuse me of being forward again. You would love that. You seem to take more than a passing interest in her yourself.”

“Good manners should never be mistaken for selfinterest. I really am not trying to cut you out with her.”

“But you always seem to be there to leap into the breach when I have made a misstep.”

“If we are speaking of the Loyalist lady, she was using you, Daniel.”

“Her loyalty to the rebellion was never in question” “Precisely. Her interest in you had only to do with flag and country.”

“That’s not the way I remember it,” Daniel said as he drifted toward sleep. When his breathing became regular, Trueblood threw a blanket over him and got out a book to read in the uncertain light from the lamp.

Daniel was at the rail the next morning, feeling rather better since he had foregone breakfast. The rock and creak of the ship was restful, the rush of water against the Sarah’s side benign in contrast to the previous night. When Nancy came on deck she pointedly ignored him, and he looked away, remembering the slap. But one of his furtive glances in her direction caught her looking at him, and she smiled, so he made his way over to her.

“How is your father?” Daniel asked.

“Better, now that the weather is fair and the wind is causing no more than a gentle roll to the ship.”

“I am not much of a sailor myself.”

“I love it,” she said, taking a deep breath and smiling. “I never thought I would set foot outside of Somerset.”

“You don’t seem as though—I mean, you seem so gently bred. I would almost take you for…”

“For a lady?” Nancy asked in amusement.

“I did not mean anything by it, but there is such a contrast between you and your father.”

“Not unlike the disparity between you and Trueblood.”

“I had that coming.”

“If I am not prying, why Trueblood’?”

“His mother named him. He carries the blood of the great Oneida, Shenandoah, in his veins.”

“Shenandoah.” Nancy pronounced it wistfully. “What a musical name.”