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Soldier and the Spy (AnjelRocker and I)

ShadowsLitany

Lurker in the Shadows
Supporter
Joined
Oct 17, 2014
Location
USA
"Alexander! You'll be late!" Mother called from below, he heard the thump of her shoes on the floor. It amazed him how just her footsteps could sound impatient. "Time to go!"

Finished dressing in his room, putting on the white shirt and the coat of the local militia, pulling the long, black hair tight against his head, tying the loop of red ribbon let the queue sit on his broad shoulder. His blue eyes searched for the belt and sword that had fallen from his bed, picking them up and strapping them on pulled the long black boots over his muscled legs. Since General Washington asked officers to provide their own uniforms his mother had made a nice blue coat with red trim on the front and cuffs, with a slight gold brocade on the cuffs. Picking up the tri-corner hat with the green cockade as a mark of rank, stepped from the room, giving his pretty, younger sister a wink and a smile. Whistling one of the jaunty anti-royalist tunes that was popular came down to a smiling mother who kissed him, gave him some biscuits, and sent him on his way.

Living not far from the Charles River, he had opted to spend his last free night at home rather than in a tent with the militia, though that would soon change starting tonight. The militia was camped facing Boston where the Colonial Army had most of the Tories trapped. Many of the Tories had fled from Cambridge after the battle on Lexington green last month, May 1775 was turning out to be a warm one as he walked down the row of tents greeting his men, reporting to his commander took his orders for the day and checking into his tent to see what he would need. Enlisting the day after Lexington and Concord, Alexander had signed on with the 30th Regiment of Foot of Massachusetts, receiving a commission as a first lieutenant and had taken quicker than he thought to the soldiers life as he trained the past two weeks. Command had come easy, big, gregarious and easily approachable the men had come to like him, if not respect him. Captain Williams had been a good mentor and being a veteran of the Indian Wars was knowledgeable about the military and what was expected. Captain Williams had spent time teaching him how to keep a respectful distance to the men as he was an officer, and trust in his sergeants to keep the men under control.

On orders he was to patrol in Cambridge, to assure there was no Tory interference with the siege, the regiment gathered by the camp and he led them towards Harvard walking slowly, the men keeping in formation but chatting amiably among themselves. There was little trouble in this part of Cambridge, though it was suspected there were some Tories still here, they tended to be quiet, or keep their real thoughts to themselves. Most homes carrying some sort of flag declaring their support of the rebellion, Alexander felt impassioned when he thought about it, though he was English he yearned to be free as those back home. As the regiment marched down the wider avenues there was a shout ahead and he saw the rush of people, hand on sword he led the men quickly forward, as they came to the corner saw yet another suspected Tory being run from his house. One of the manor houses surrounded by a crush of people, hoisting someone he thought he recognized, yet as the crowd of patriots milled around the house he watched with humor as the second floor windows had two women shouting at the crowd below.
 
It was the thing of nightmare as the crush of people surrounded their home and were taking her father away. Her mother was in hysteria and her sister and her were call out the window. She had seen the so called Patriots tar and feather men for their simple loyalty to the crown. Eleanor did not understand why they would be taking her father away. Well, she had a determined look in her eyes as she looked to Fannie and said, “Take care of mother and lock the door!”

Fannie who had seen that look in Ellie's eyes a hundred times before said. “Don't you dare, Ellie!” Well, it did not do much as she was out of the bedroom. Passing her mother who was on the bed as Betsy, the youngest sister was fanning her face.

As if anyone could tell her that she should not protect her father. Rolling up the delicate lace sleeves of her expensive gown, it was only a day dress but she was not thinking about that as she rushed down the steps of their home. There were already people coming into their home as Fannie was shrieking for her to come back up the stairs.

However, she pushed herself towards the door... and she was certainly not acting lady like as there was a look of hell in her green eyes and she was armed with with a fan. The bastards were looting the home that she had grown up in. Except, she could not think of that as she finally got out the front door and looked in the direct where they were taking her father. Of course, their loyal servants were up in the bedroom with Fannie and Betsy caring for their mother. “Miss Eleanor... please come back inside.” Looking up at the woman who truly raised her since mother was hopeless, she said. “I am going...” She doubted that she had heard her with the roar of angry Patriots as she could feel people grabbing her and pulling her into the mass of barbarians.

“You will unhand me...” She growled as she put the fan to good use. She had to get to her father before they did anything. Of course, there was a supposed call of the practice of tarring and feathering but she would not put it pass them as her nostrils flared when someone was blocking her path...

She looked up and realized who it was...

“Ellie, please please get back here!” She could hear Fannie calling after her as she was trying to get her thoughts straight at the moment when her world was in complete chaos.
 
Thomas had been in the Cambridge Tavern when he heard the crowd talking, he was still deciding if he should join the Colonials like his brothers, or stay loyal like his father and head for Boston. Playing idly with his long black hair, the high necked shirt under his plain coat and breeches spoke of a man who once knew wealth, but had lost it. The talk of the Tory household made him wince, alarmed it might be his own, only when the name was spoken did he realized who they were going after. As the ale fueled men poured from the tavern Thomas followed them, staying at the fringe joining in the shouts of the crowd he was in the midst of them by the time they reached the street then the house.

Knowing what would happen when he got there, uncertain if he really wanted to see her, already rejected once Eleanor he was still smitten with. Though if he could arrive now as a white knight, she might change her mind and accept him. At least Thomas let the fancies crowd his mind as he mingled with the crowd, not knowing how he would help her. The crowd was large and they had grabbed hoes or axes from somewhere along the way, the hollow sounds of splintering wood as they beat down the front door of the clapboard house, to cries of "Loyalist Scum" and "Roast the Tory!".

As he milled within the maelstrom of Colonial ire, she came to the door. Stately and with a certain amount of grace among the rabble, the crowd milled about her, pushing her out of the way in order to get to her father. Other voices from behind crying for a tarring and feathering. Thomas stood in front of her as she tried to move through the wave of men her fan hitting them ineffectually as she was pushed aside, and then facing him. Looking down at her, Thomas stood a good head Putting his hands on her shoulders moved her aside, "Eleanor are you alright?" His voice was full of concern, his once handsome face, now hardened by work and want held a glimmer of hope that he could help her.

She looked up at him as the crowd surged into the house, the sounds of furniture, ceramics, and glass breaking in the house rose as screams echoed from the upstairs. Scores of feet pounded on stairs as the house seemed filled by an endless line of Cantabridgians who brought destruction in their wake.
 
It was Thomas Dooley and she knew what side he was on as she was trying to get away from him as she moved. Was he a fool? Was she alright? Heavens no because her father was going to be marred if not killed before her eyes. “Really, must you ask such a ridiculous question?” She had an incredulous look on her face as she stared up at the tall man. Lord, she was lucky that she had not taken this fool for a husband… “My Father is being accused as a Tory supporter and the vile crowd is taking him to be tarred and feathered if not worse. Perhaps, he could survive that but if they hanged him… well, she did not know what she would do.

The idea made her tear up a little before furiously wiping them away, “Out of my way, Mr. Dooley. I do not have time for your insufferable nattering about my well-being.” She was going to use the bloody fan on him if he did not let go of her at once.

Every moment that she was wasting with him, her Father could be hanging by a noose. “I am going after my father…” They ought to have fled to Boston or rather, they should have went to England with all of this terrible unrest. However, her father had been a stubborn man… her mother said that she got it from him and now, here they were with these… animals who were breaking into her home and all the furniture. They were going to break her piano…

No, she had to think about her Father. “Please, Thomas… let go of me.” She said before stomping on his foot before he could even make a choice. After all, she was tenacious in her objective. There was more yelling from inside of the house as she could see that there was a fire being started. Fannie in the window as she was staring now. Lord, there were not going to burn their house down. Would they?

“Fannie! Get Mama and Betsy out… Please, help them Susan!” She called to their servant who nodded as she had to hope that her father would be alright… but if her sisters and mother burnt alive in their home. She would never forgive herself.
 
Alexander brought the regiment up, one of the men behind him gave voice to the thoughts in all their minds, "looks like they are going to string up another Tory boys!" A short huzzah going through the men as he watched the milling throng about the house. In the midst of it all saw her, a smile came over him as he noticed her fighting her way against the press of men armed with a fan. Such a will to face them all, it amused him to watch the fan swing about fruitlessly as the crowd ignored her. Whoever she was, she was beautiful, a pearl a midst a rabble.

"Well gentleman, we don't need Tories but I don't want to be fighting fires tonight," he grinned turning to the men, they sighed as they remembered the last fire in town that took most of the night to extinguish. Watching the angelic vision force her way, he added the powder to his pistol and with a bit in the primer pan pulled the hammer back and raised the pistol. The power exploded thunderously above them in the blue sky, a wisp of powder blue smoke rising as the pistol kicked in his hand. Catching the attention of the crowd who ducked expecting bullets, the men closest stooping their heads looking around for Lobsterbacks. "Good morning gentleman!" He shouted as the noise died down, "per order of the Massachusetts Militia, I would like to ask you to disperse," on a gesture of his hand with the pistol the regiment formed line behind him, "please."

There was much grumbling as they moved forward, the crowd shocked out of its ale and anger began to move on snide looks and remarks coming from sidelong glances, most would go back to the tavern Alexander thought. As the crowd thinned he walked up to the beautiful young lady, she was kneeling next to a prone man stripped to his undershirt and stockings. Helping the man up easily with a broad arm, he looked into her bright eyes and rosy lips, smiling easily, she was a treasure certainly, and if the crowd was right probably a Tory. Right now though it did not matter.

"Lieutenant Alexander Gage, Massachusetts 30th, at your service my lady," he introduced himself with pride, using his rank and regiment to subtly impress her. "Looks like we arrived too late to stop their beginnings," glancing at the broken door and the few cracked windows. "My apologies for that."
 
There was a sudden crack in the air as a bullet rang and everyone stopped their rampage on her home, Eleanor looked one way and then the other having lost Thomas Dooley in the throng of people. Was the British military there? She had a look of hope to see the men in red uniforms coming to their rescue. However, her attention turned to a militia of men who were there. One of the men, she supposed their leader was looking directly at her. No, he was obviously scanning the crowd of face.

Of course, it would be a group of rebels who would come to their rescue. She had to be thankful that her home was not destroyed but… she could not understand what these men were trying to do by killing all those loyal to the crown. Did they really think that they were going to get independent from one of the most powerful nations in the world?

It was laughable. As the crowd was leaving, she hurried to her father on the cobberstone street in his shirt and stockings. “Papa…” Her voice out of breath as she was looking at him… he looked broken. Lord, these men were barbarous. Looking up, Eleanor raised an eyebrow at the young man who had stopped the crowd. Of course, a handsome young man like him would be a bloody rebel. Certainly a shame that he had his ideals mixed up.

Although, her father had made the decision to not pick a side in this conflict… she still had her opinions. Even if women ought not to have… As if it had ever stopped her before. The militia officer helped her lift her father up but he was staring directly at her.

It was a little disconcerting at the moment as one of the male servants came rushing out of the house, “Miss Eleanor… let me take your father.” She could only nod as she felt a little dizzy herself. Her heart pounding but not because she was smitten with the handsome officer. No, she was having an adrenaline rush after all of that excitement.

“Yes… quite.” She said as the heavy body of her father was taken from her arms and she looked at the officer and said, “Yes, thank you for intervening.” Her home was ruined but not burnt to the ground as men had milled out of the house to go about their business. And what were they to do of the door? The nights were still cold although it was becoming warmer.

Lord, he was introducing himself instead of someone introducing him… was this a new custom. Without thinking, she said. “Eleanor Caldwell.” She realized what she had done and said, “You will call me Miss. Caldwell, if we ever see each other again.” She ought to rush back into the house now because she was not impressed by his militia nor the rank.
 
"Miss Caldwell," he repeated and bowed his head, noting Eleanor for future reference. "My apologies we did not get here sooner," he began to apologize but there was nothing for it. "It's still early, if you send a man to Mr Wilson the carpenter over on Long Street, give him my name and he will help you."

Inside he heard servants and the family moving about, cleaning the detritus from the incursion. A broom sounded collecting shards of glass that clinked shrilly together. While he had seen a few riots at Tory homes before the Siege began, all under the fever of Liberty and Freedom, they had all been faceless. Nameless people who he had no connection with, now he felt one form with Miss Eleanor Caldwell.

Struck by her, as if cupid's arrow had pierced his breast, he showed her his favor. Alexander thought how he could obtain an opportunity in the future to see Miss Caldwell, as he tried to make pretense to stay near her presence. His idle conversation not seeming to impress her one whit.

Stepping back as the regiment reformed, assuring that there were no hangers about around the house. Stiffening and saluting stepped back, eyes lingering on her as he hesitated a moment, "if you should need anything Miss Caldwell, please feel free to ask."

---

Thomas merged with the crowd when he heard the pistol shot. Like many he instinctively ducked. The regimental officer stood in front of the men in line, a few were locals he knew, others were local workers or farm hands from between here and Lincoln. What he could not do for Eleanor, the Lieutenant Alexander Gage did.

Watching the Lieutenant and his men rounding up the rioters and approaching Eleanor, at one time his Eleanor, a small spark of jealousy began to flame. Hiding around the corner of a neighbors house, the street filling with passersby, women of the nearby households stood on their porches, faces and mouths covered with handkerchiefs.

The Lieutenant clung to her as the regiment moved around the house and then reformed in the street, one of the serving girls of a neighbors house passed out small slices of cake to a few men. As Thomas watched he felt himself grow cold, Eleanor had never favored him, less so when his family fled to Boston before the Siege. He had hopes though, they lingered still. Watching the Lieutenant apprise her made his blood boil.

It would not do. It would not do at all.
 
Eleanor had a look of astonishment when he had said that she could send someone to a carpenter, who she knew was a Patriot if she gave his name. Why was he being kind to her when the two of them were on opposing sides? Not that he truly knew but it was obvious why the mob had ramshackle her house and home. It was because her Father had a government position and so, they were seen as Tory. “Thank you again, sir… it is not your fault, the mob will do as they will when some fool gets a wild opinion in his mind.” She stated simply.

She would send their servant, Henry to get the carpenter over right away when everyone left. Of course, she would go check of her Mama. Lord… she was not doing well with the fit when the men had surrounded the house. Luckily, Betsy had had the smelling salts but it had not done much in the ways of calming her mother.

She did note something as she was looking up at the officer, good lord… but he was smitten with her. She had seen the look of a number of men’s faces before. And he was handsome but his ideals were heavily skewed in the opposition direction of her own. “Ah yes…” She said with not much thinking. “You have been very kind, Lieutenant.” She said calling him by his rank but she knew his name and would have it as a reference for the future.

Perhaps, this was a good ally to have even if she saw that he was on the opposition political opinion. After all, her friend was not truly safe unless they fled to Boston… or even England. After all, it was her birth country having come here when she was only five years of age and her sister, Fannie had been two. Their other sister, Betsy had not been born. However, her brother Arthur had been eight and Andrew had been three years old. Both were officers in the British Navy. Andrew was in India and Arthur was actually on one of the ships in Boston Harbour.

Making a little curtsy, Eleanor said. “Thank you again, do have a good day.” And with that, she made a little turn so that she could be on her way. There was much to do with the reclaiming of their home. She did hope that they had not damaged too much of their beautiful home or stolen everything. She would have Henry go out right away with the name of Lieutenant Alexander Gage of the Massachusetts 30th. Then, she would check on father and mother and see that they were fine before working with Fannie, Betsy and the servants on the cleaning and clearing of their home.

Perhaps, she could convince her Father now that they would need to flee to Boston.
 
Alexander led the men back to their route, her face, eyes, and rose colored lips in his mind. He could not help but think about her as he walked with the men around Harvard, his mind on Eleanor rather than the patrol. Or even reliving his time studying in Harvard. The snickers and laughter finally settled in his ears, as he turned to see the men laughing, only one of the older, and most bold, finally spoke up.

"Not becoming a Tory lover, are you sir?" The men snickered as Robert Bosun the unofficial sergeant, a tall, broad farmer with a weathered and tanned face.

Laughing back the men responded in a chorus before Alexander could. "If they all looked like her I'd turn Tory too! Ha, they should be so lucky to have the Lieutenant! Send her to my tent I'll turn her!" A few other expressions of good-natured ribbing, though at Eleanor's expense, to which his cheeks burned a little.

"Now, now men," he smiled broadly as he marched them on, "that's the future Mrs. Gage you are talking about." A rouse of laughter stirred the men as they finished the morning patrol and he saw the glint of the Charles River ahead of them. "If they were Tory they'd already be across the river," he shifted the sword in his grip, "just some men in the heat of Liberty with too much ale." Alexander wondered though, he did not know the Caldwell's, he had heard the name but until recently had steered clear of politics, focused on the family business then his studies.

As they returned to camp he reported back to Captain Williams noted the incident at the Caldwell's house, the Captain was not pleased at it or that they intervened. Giving it over to Alexander's youth left the tent knowing he did the right thing, he'd seen enough families torn apart, and while that did not bother him too much, to see Eleanor in distress that bothered him.

He was smitten, with her, he knew it. The men knew it. As he walked among the tents, the smell of campfires and an early supper in the air, they greeted him warmly. A few more jibes at him for Eleanor, which he took in good spirits. As he talked to the men his cheeks burned again in embarrassment, though when it became too much he pointedly put a stop to it, knowing it would not be good for morale. A few men assigned to do the wash by the river and they moved on to other things.
 
As soon as the regiment had departed, Eleanor was up the steps and into the house. Her shoes stepping over the broken glass that had yet to be swept up. The first order of business was to go and have Henry go to the carpenter down the road. “Tell him that we are in need of a front door.” Since the existing door was in splinters on among the glass. “As well as a temporary door until the door can be replaced. Tell him that Lieutenant Alexander Gage said to help us if he gives any trouble.” Her voice was direct as she was going to get their home into proper order by the end of the day.

There were small miracles because the piano forte was still in working order and no one had taking the seat. However, the pieces of broken furniture and china was piling up as she said to the servants. “There is no use for much of it. Perhaps, we could glue some back together.” She looked a little sad as she looked down to see a china shepherdess on the ground. How she had marveled at the beauty of it when she was only a girl. Bending down, she picked up the three broken pieces. She would repair this somehow.

The next order was to check on Father… he had been badly beaten as she remembered the blood streaming down his face from his nose. He was most likely in his rooms being tended to by one of the servants as she went up the steps and Fannie was at the top. “Mama has come back… she is still fretting.” Eleanor loved her Mama but she did wonder how the woman could be so dependent on others. “Make sure that she has a bit of the tea down stairs… you might have to make it yourself, Fannie. The servants are busy cleaning up.” She warned her sister to not bother the servants with a thing like tea for Mama. “I will see her in a moment, I am going to check on, Papa.” She said before going to his door and knocking.

“Come in.” She heard a groan from inside as she entered and said, “Papa… are you alright?” She could see that he did look better. “I will send for a Doctor at once.” Her father spoke up before saying, “Nonsense, Ellie… It was only a few ruffians who have loud voices and too much ale to drink.” He said loudly as she was considering if she should have a doctor come in. The black servant at his side looking to Eleanor before saying, “From what I can see, Miss… your father is only suffering from bruising but no internal damage.”


She did not look sure for a moment but went with the opinion of Nancy, a free woman since they were not believe in slavery as others did.
 
Alexander walked out of the camp mid afternoon, following some of the other junior officers towards the nearest tavern but seeing as they were near the street with Eleanor's house he left the others with a quick excuse. As he walked down the street saw the house, one of Mr Wilson's tradesmen was busy fitting a door in the empty frame. Walking by, unsure what to do or say at this time he was approached by two of the neighbors. One did thank him for helping out, a glass of lemonade given to him for protecting their street, another giving him a piece of ginger cake the two older ladies began talking among themselves.

Listening, as he often did to mother and her friends as they had their sewing circles, the two women talked about how the family had been quiet. Mr. Caldwell had a position with the Crown but had not fled, so he was not a Tory, the other said all who did not state otherwise were. They continued arguing about other neighbors, until he asked about Eleanor. The two exchanged brief smiles, yes she was unattached and a pretty girl, but also too much vinegar in her one said. They continued the banter back and forth, passing on to other girls, one had a cousin who was coming soon from Concord and they would very much like to introduce her if Alexander was so inclined.

Thanking them for the lemonade and cake bowed politely and made his way out before they began deciding upon other unattached female relatives. Alexander gave another look at the house, hoping to see Eleanor again, then made his way back down the street and towards the camp again. Sighing he returned to camp, not wishing to enter the tavern and drink his afternoon away, rather he spent the time at camp lying back in his bed composing couplets just thinking of her.

The men had mostly forgotten her by now, there was no more ribbing at him, though he was sure Eleanor would come up again at some point, sighing he lay back and rested his eyes recalling her. Smiling at the image of her with the fan striking the crowd and keeping her out of the house. Too much vinegar indeed, he agreed. Shrugging, knew one could do worse. One certainly would have a hard time finding prettier.

Sitting up he took up his pistol and cleaned the powder from it, settling in to the soldier's life, laughing about too much vinegar. Yes, she certainly had that, and quite a fan.
 
Once she was finished speaking with her father, she went to check on her mother who was still in the bed but she was at least sitting up and happily chatting to the youngest, Betsy who had always been mother’s favourite child. Eleanor smiled and said, “Are you doing better, Mama?” She asked as her mother looked her way. She was wearing a cap alike her daughters who had all of their hair pinned up in a coiffure. “Oh, Ellie… those men coming into our house and taking your father from the living room.” Mama had still been sleeping in her own room… Betsy had been upstairs and Fannie and she had just been going down for tea and breakfast.

“Mama… do not fret. They did not take Father…” Although, he was in rough shape but she did not want to worry her so. “How will we survive here in Cambridge when those so called Patriots think that…” He mother started as Eleanor interrupted her. “Mama! We will survive her and we will thrive if we put our heads down and let the British military do their jobs. Now, enough of this talk… you must be famished. I will go get us all some breakfast and we will eat up here while the downstairs is being cleaned.”

Not that they had a dining room table to eat off of… but she would go and make the breakfast herself since Cook was busy preparing and cleaning. As she was going down the stairs of their home. She noticed a familiar gentleman speaking to the neighbours as she went to the front room and glanced out of the window. It was that handsome soldier… what in the blazes was he doing there? Well, no matter… she had to be on her business.

However, he was still on her mind later that evening as she was sitting in the circle with her sisters talking about their experiences that morning. It was after all, a shocking event that they would continue to talk about and tell stories of for the rest of their life.

“And when you had that look in your eyes, Ellie… I knew what you were planning on doing. Lord, you scared me as you were beating those men with your fan and then you ran into Mr. Dooley.” She mentioned as Eleanor remembered that moment. “Oh, yes… he wanted to know if I was alright.” She scoffed about that. “Kind gesture, and gentlemanly but we were in a riot and they were trying to take Papa away. Silly question, really. He ought to have asked what my favourite colour was as well.”

Betsy was trying not to laugh at that moment before Fannie said, “And then, the militia stopping it. Do you think they though us, Tories?” She asked quietly as Eleanor thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No likely… you know how the crowds can get. We will simply do at Father has said in the past and keep our heads down. No political talk either, it is not ladylike.” She mentioned and that was considered to be the truth as they continued their sewing.
 
Alexander walked among the regiment checking on the men, the open spaces of the encampment filled with either stacked muskets or cooking fires. The smells of a hundred different pots mingled in the air, with the heavy scent of burning wood, oak and pine that threaded among the smells of baking beans, pot biscuits and stewed beef. The men ate well and as they offered a taste to Alexander he was rather full by the time he made his way back to his shared tent. As he sat inside removing his jacket and brushing it off the flaps opened to two other young men in bright jackets like his own.

"Ah, the Lieutenant Gage I presume," the tallest spoke, whose head was just brushing the top of the tent. A beanpole of a man with the pinched, serious face of a school master, the hand that reached out was smooth and gentlemanly as they gripped. "Lieutenant Masters," a hand gestured at the shorter, stocky man whose hangdog face was more suited for sorrowful thoughts than war somehow brightened with a smile, "this is Lieutenant Hammond. We'll be sharing this delightful spot during our little excursion."

"Excursion?" Alexander asked as the two moved towards the other two cots in the tent removing their coats, Hammond released a loud belch with a satisfied pat on the belly.

"Against the British my boy," Masters spoke, the voice one of impatience, "soon they'll skedaddle from the colonies and leave us to our own devices. We have all the Tories bottled up in Boston, soon they can all take a boat back home across the shores."

"I hear you had yourself a little run in with the Tories yourself today," Hammond spoke as he reclined on his cot. "Near the Caldwells, I understand."

Alexander looked over hopefully, thinking again of Eleanor. "Actually, it was the Caldwells. Do you know them?"

"Our families are acquainted," Hammond picked his teeth with a finger, "sorry to hear about that though, didn't they escape to Boston with the rest?"

"They are Tory?" Masters asked removing his coat and placing it carefully on the cot before brushing.

"Not that I know of, Mr Caldwell did serve the Crown but he wasn't the most enthusiastic that I know of, that daughter though," Hammond had a glint in his eye.

"Eleanor?" Alexander asked a little too quickly.

"Oh yes, her," the smile broadened. "Would be quite a catch, but fiesty. Had a few suitors but she never took to any of them, and between the brothers and Mr Caldwell none got too far." Sitting up Masters eyed him, "caught your eye, eh? Well good luck with that one Gage." A laugh came as Hammond rolled over entering a light doze. Masters just grunted and focused on cleaning then folding his uniform, redoing it when a crease did not fit right.

Alexander counted himself lucky that he had someone who could tell him about Eleanor, as he cleaned up his uniform his smiled broadened as he thought about her again. A challenge, something he could never resist.
 
She personally did not want to keep her head down at her father had advised but it was for the best or they would have to flee to Boston or even England. There was also the option of Nova Scotia or one of the other territories to the North. Although, they did not know if that was safe either.

Never the less, it was a stress to live in Cambridge when people thought they were Tories. Well, it was certainly the truth. And it was not as if they could really go to Boston unless it was in the dead of night and even then, there were those who patrolled the streets.

If only they could make their way to Boston, then they would be able to see Arthur since he was stationed in protecting the city from the Patriots and their hope to take the city.

Life had changed dramatically since they were mostly in the house and since a good amount of their furniture had had to be thrown out since it could not be fixed... they could not entertain as they had use to. This was naturally weighting on her mother who was a social butterfly since she had liked to entertain the officers that Arthur had brought home from the ships.

How she had begged for Father to flee to Boston with their neighbours... There were a lot of empty houses of those who the Rebels called traitors. However, were not the Patriots the traitors to the crown?

The next day was not nearly as eventful in the Caldwell household. Her Father was still in pain but he was able to get up and walk around. Meals were sent to his room since he could not get down the stairs without gasps and moans of agony on his part.

Mother was also feeling a little better but Eleanor was still taking control of the household for the moment as one of the servants was sent out to the market for that day's meal. She did wonder if the servants would soon abandon them. She also wondered if they were on the side of the Patriots. Well, she had told Fannie and Betsy that they were to keep their mouths shut about politics from now on else they would not be so lucky if there was another riot.

She only wished that Arthur could visit. She had always been closest with her older brother while growing up... and Andrew being that they were both the closest in ages to her. However, one was in India and the other was in Boston... while only across the river, it was the only place that they could not only just go to.

Perhaps, she could send word to him about that happen and get his advice on the matter.
 
Waking in the morning with Masters and Hammond made his way to the Officers Mess, the large tent next to Capt Williams quarters, a fairly large tent, where they took their orders for the day. Dressing quickly felt as if he was far away from home, playing soldier in some far away battlefield while only a short walk from home. The early morning chill was rousing as they dressed in uniform, noting the subtle differences in uniform.

Breakfast was a simple affair, with the officers, mostly Lieutenants, gathered about the table and discussing the matters of the day, with the politics of Independence taking the forefront. There was slight conversation now, Captain Williams ran a quiet, more introspective table, some of the conversation revolving on how short this would all be with the Crown giving in. News from London was scant and months old by the time it came. It was as if deliberations were still happening.

An uneventful patrol in the morning ended back in camp, the daily routine was the same, as he heard from Masters on the way back from breakfast. Keep order in Cambridge, riots were not allowed any longer, though those flames seemed to be burning out. The British were being kept in Boston, so watch for incursions or supporters, stamp out either. Attention was towards the Siege, and the response of the Lobsterbacks in New York and elsewhere. Some excitement about General Washington infused the camp, the men all seemed excited and ready to show their wherewithal to the British Troops. After Lexington and Concord there was a desire to strike back again, with their year enlistments under way many men were eager to bloody a British nose before returning home.

"Mr Gage," Masters commanding voice rose behind him as Alexander was looking across the Charles River towards Boston, his thoughts turning towards the coming fighting. His reverie broken Alexander turned and saw Masters leading some men towards him, "new recruits. These three are yours, this one says he knows you. Get them settled."

Alexander nodded as Masters completed his duty and left, the men were dressed in simple brown cloth, each armed with older, but passable, muskets. "Welcome to the Massachusetts Foot," he told them with one of the three looking at him intently. A tall one, not as broad as Alexander but stocky, the dark eyes intent. Smiling easily he motioned the men to follow, the one looking at him was the one Masters had noted knew him, Alexander did not recognize the man. "Did I hear Lieutenant Masters correct, we are acquainted?" The man nodded, as they reached his regiment's encampment they stopped, pursing his lips Alexander searched his memory.

The three stopped by Sergeant Bosun who had other men cleaning up the stores, an exasperated look on his face at new men he could see Bosun's face turn inscrutable. Alexander was liking the man, he was efficient and took charge of the men right away. "I'm sorry, usually I remember faces, but I don't recall you. Your name soldier?"

"Tomas Dooley," the man said. A look from Bosun put a slight chill in the man which added an icy tinge to the voice as he repeated the name. "Tomas Dooley, sir."
 
Emmett Anderson was only 17 years of age when he had come to the Massachusetts Foot Infirmary as a Volunteer. He was from other in the country in the Appalachian Mountains near the Hudson Valley of New York. However, Boston was in need of more at this moment being word of a plan of attack to corner the British at Boston. And so, he had travelled many miles from his parent’s farm. He would be given a rank as he looked to Lieutenant Gage with a smile. There were two other men as well and one of them knew the officer… however, as they were being shown around. The Lieutenant was having trouble recalling if he did indeed know Tomas Dooley.

They were introduced to Sergeant Bosun who would be the in between concerning the troops. He was older and it could be seen on his face… most likely a farmer like his father. It could be seen on how he looked… Emmett had a similar build since he had spent most of his life working on the homestead in the community where he had grown up.

Of course, Boston… or rather Cambridge was not like anywhere he had ever been before. He had never been to a military encampment either… so for the young man, this was a wild and new adventure in his life.

---

She was pouring over the letter from Arthur, it had been smuggled in from trusted friends but she had also sent word to him as well. Only about what had happened with the Rebels and them almost taking father with the belief that they supported the crown.

If they did or did not… she did not write that in the note but only recounted the events. She also mentioned that Father was bruised but not in a terrible condition. These were trying times as she was reading his own message.

It was another plead for them to make their way to Boston. Naturally, she would have to burn it in the flames of the fireplace once read. The decision was final that they were to stay in their home.
 
After breakfast Alexander checked the encampment, two men were gone, but Sergeant Bosun just sort of shrugged. "All of the men enlisted sir, they take their freedom seriously." It was unspoken but they took it serious enough to go back home when it suited them.

A commotion by the riverside took his attention. Following the men through the camp those who were there gathered by the Charles, the water flowed swiftly with the Spring melt and he could see small branches and other flotsam passing them by. Across the river, and the neck that connected the city of Boston to the rest of Massachusetts, there rose a few masts in the harbor. More of them than he had seen before. As he shaded his eyes to try and make out the ships far away saw Capt Williams and Masters standing together, walking towards them they were in conversation.

"Reinforcements no doubt," Williams was answering a question of Masters, the Captain raising a telescope and scanning the harbor before putting it back into a leather case. "Was only a matter of time, probably supplies too."

"How can you tell sir?" Alexander asked as he stood to the Captain's right.

"The masts Gage," Masters answered as if he were responding to a question from a petulant schoolboy. From an earlier conversation he knew Masters had trained to be a teacher but with the war he had enlisted and rose quickly to a Lieutenant. Though he always seemed to be in a schoolroom. "Masts and sails, higher and more numerous the masts the bigger the ship, more masts more sails. Probably another 1,000 troops of so."

"They need provisions too," the Captain responded in his careful, patient voice. A veteran of the Indian wars the Captain was the more experience soldier in the militia, other than a few other older gentlemen. "They'll have landing parties soon too, double the watches until further notice." Masters nodded, saluting as he turned and left. Williams turned to him, "Gage, there will be a Ball in two weeks. I expect all my officers in attendance. Some wear a fancy dress uniform, most just clean the one they have. Wear whatever you prefer."

"Yes sir," he answered as he saluted. "Thank you sir," with a nod from the Captain he turned and left. A ball, he thought to himself in hope, now that Eleanor was on his mind he wondered if he would see her there. Inviting her was out of the question, he barely knew her, but if he was lucky enough to see her there, then maybe he could get an introduction. For the moment, the British forgotten, Alexander returned to his regiment thinking only of the woman who he could not easily forget.
 
There had been an invitation to a ball and their mother insisted that they were to go despite the suspicions of their alliance with the British. Their father was in agreement because it would make it seem like all was well. And so, Fannie and she were to go with their mother and father. As for Betsy, she was to stay at home with Aunt Susan because she was much too young being that she was still only fourteen. While she was nineteen and Fannie was seventeen and were deemed old enough. During those two weeks leading up to the ball, Ellie was rather busy with the daily routines. She had taken to the instruction of her two younger sisters along with her mother and their caregiver, Susan who was affectionately called Aunt Suzie by all three of her charges.

The family’s companion was not their Aunt but a family friend who came with them from England and had helped with the raising of the children throughout their years in the colony. Eleanor had always been closer to her Aunt then her mother.

She had received a few letters in the last few weeks. Some from friends in Boston and other parts of the colonies and a few from Arthur. Also, one from Andrew all the way in India. However, one from Arthur was in the secret language that they had made up when they had been children. It was in English but there was a way of decoding it. It had been a game between all the siblings to hide secrets from their parents and Aunt Suzie.

Only Arthur, Fannie, Andrew and herself knew it as a result… they had never let Betsy in on it because she had been too young… she supposed Fannie had been a little as well but as she was pouring over the letter… she knew what Arthur was asking. It was only to give information that she might hear in passing… Certainly, she wanted to help Arthur but she was also risking writing regular letters to him.

Well, she would not give him any information and deny the request for the time being. Perhaps, she needed a few days to think it over.

---

The ball was to be Grand event and she supposed one of the nice things about being in Cambridge was having access to things like fabric and lace. They were certainly not as well off as they had been before… Father was not a trusted gentleman and so, they had to use older gown rather than have new ones. To make it appear as the gowns were new, they bought new ribbons and lace to customize it themselves with some help from Aunt Suzie but overall as they were leaving their home the night of the ball about two weeks after the incident. All of the Caldwells were looking beautiful and as if they had more money than their meager amount of their budget.

It was also Fannie’s first ball… and so, she was the most excited. Eleanor was as well since it had been awhile since they had gone to one as a family. She did hope that perhaps, this event would make it so they were invited to more events if they were seen as not choosing a side rather than seen as a family in support of the British.
 
As Capt. Williams had requested Alexander went with Masters and Hammond to the party. Masters wore his normal uniform, fastidious as always it was well cared for and was cleaner than Hammond's rarely worn dress coat and trousers. Hammond had two uniforms, a trunk with fancier clothes, as if he intended to attend gala's on a more consistent basis, only when he saw that did Alexander realize how wealthy Hammond's family was. Mother had provided a new coat in time, though he did have to wear his usual breeches and boots, kept clean with some help from Masters.

The Spring Gala was held in the Chardon Mansion, the main dining room and other adjoining rooms had been cleared and covered with bright spring flowers of yellow and white. An orchestra setup in one room played a selection of waltzes, Capt. Williams had made note to each man that he expected one dance, at least, from each. According to Hammond the Captain had once been a regular at such functions in Concord, but after the Indian war he rarely attended any but the largest functions. Now he sent his officers in his place, making a circuit of the room then leaving quietly with few noticing he had gone.

Hammond had found the punch bowl, then liberally spiked it with rum that he had brought with him, finding a few young ladies he fancied and offering them cups from the bowl. Masters turned his nose up at such antics and left for another room to speak with the older ladies who were more interested in conversation, saying a woman who could hold up her end of a conversation was worth more than all the sugar cane in Jamaica. Hammond retorted that the sugar cane was best served in making rum, and when a man has had some conversation did not matter.

Alexander walked away from the both, amused at their banter. Mother had told him they were not going to appear, Father was never much for the Gala's unless there was business to discuss but his cousins were there. He had not seem them in the past year as they had returned to their house in Lexington, and while he was catching up with them it was a familiar face he spied in the crowd. His cousin Bill, a gregarious fellow and well off in his own law firm, was discussing the virtues of port when he saw Eleanor.

She walked into the room with a grace he had not seen before, while she did have a fan it was more for decoration this time rather than a weapon. Smiling as his heart skipped a beat, the gown decorated in ribbons and lace caught his eye as well. The smile on her face was angelic, his own beaming back as he looked, long enough for his cousin to notice and see where he was looking. A smile on his cousins lips, a shoulder pat in support, a gesture indicated that he could go. Excusing himself walked towards Eleanor as she finished greeting the Chardon's.

Bowing low but keeping his eyes on hers as much as he could welcomed her. "Good Evening, Miss Caldwell. How very nice to see you here!" He took her gloved hand and kissed the back in welcome. "I hope I may be so graced with a dance with you later."
 
It was actually quite a large event, the Spring Gala and it was held every year. She had gone the last two years with her parents as well as with Arthur before the Siege and although she had had many suitors at that time… it was not so now. Perhaps, she should not have been such a snob. No, that was not the case. A number of her suitors had either gone into the British military or rather to Boston. Fannie was looking around. “Oh, Ellie… isn’t it simply divine?” She said as she was acting as a chaperone somewhat for her younger sister. “Fannie, do be careful of the punch. Some gentlemen like to spike it as a refreshment…” She said having been told that it was best to sniff the punch first.

“Oh, Eleanor… you are such a bore.” Her sister cooed as she looked over Eleanor’s shoulder and said, “Is that not the officer who helped with the rescue of father?” Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that there was a gentleman coming up to them. She supposed that they had been introduced… by themselves so she did not see it as rude behaviour when he came up to the two of them as soon as they were greeted by their hosts.

“Lientenant Gage, it is so nice to make your acquaintance again.” She said wondering if it was a good idea to be speaking to a man who was on the other side as he was kissing her white lace kit gloves. Well, she could not be rude. “This is my sister, Miss. Frances Caldwell.” She said using her proper name over their little nicknames for each other. “And of course, my parents.” Their parents were right behind the two of them as her father spoke.

“Lieutenant Gage, you were the man who put a stop to the mob who had overtaken our house.” He said with his prominent English accent. “I want to thank you for your service.” Papa was a better actor then all of them together. Her mother was the next to speak as she seemed to know what was going on. “Come Henry… Fannie… let us greet some of the others.” Of course her eye would be on her own daughter but this officer was so obviously smitten.

“Ah, my family...” She said as she glanced over to see her sister pouting since she had to go and greet some others. “A dance would be most welcome, Lieutenant.” She supposed that she was in a calmer mood rather than being in a crowd trying to fight through it and using her fan as a weapon. She wondered if he knew the secret fan language that ladies liked to use.
 
Alexander only had eyes for her, he glanced over the family as they walked in. Shaking hands with her father, giving a strong grip but testing to make sure he did not crush the man's hand. Nodding, and bowing to her mother watched as they breezed in and lost themselves amidst the crowd. Watching her glide into the crowd saw her, and only her as he stood near the entrance, a rough cough coming from behind as he broke from his reverie.

"Gage, if you wish to drool try not to do so near the door where the ladies might slip and fall." Masters chided him as the man looked reproachfully down at him, then turned his head and seemed to take in all of Eleanor as she was lost in the crowd. "Not bad Gage, you at least have an eye for the aesthetics."

Alexander watched as Masters took two cups of punch with him to a further room where the music was more subdued. As if it was meant more for background rather than for a dance, the entry hall became loud as families and couples began to enter. Seeing a business associate of his father was brought to meet a few other officers who dragged him into a conversation on the recent reinforcement ships that arrived. Giving what he knew, and had learned from Masters and Hammond detached himself politely to find Eleanor.

With butterflies in his stomach he found her across the room, sitting with her family as she stood prettily and he tried to catch her eye unsure how best to approach her. She kept moving the fan in front of her, which he understood as it was hot in the room with so many people crowded in, even in a cool Spring evening with the windows open the heat began to build. Suddenly a hand on his shoulder as a body leaned into him, turning to see a slightly drink Hammond looking across the room then up at him.

"Why are you here?" Hammond spoke abruptly, "she's calling you over."

"What?" He looked down and then over, Eleanor was talking to her mother and sister alternately while cooling herself with the fan, opening and closing it in her left hand. "She's not even saying anything."

A couple of hard claps on his back, "you my friend are woefully uneducated in the way of ladies. She's using the fan. Obviously she cannot talk to you directly with her parents there, or in a group so the fan speaks. See how she keeps opening the fan in her left hand? That means come and talk to her." He looked down at Hammond then back at Eleanor. A push and he slid along the edge of the dance crowd, "go!" Hammond almost yelled above the music and laughed, a few couples nearby gave Hammond a look of distaste then he was gliding along the crowd and over to Eleanor.

With butterflies in his stomach Alexander walked up, his boots sounded loud, or it was his heart beating, with each step he felt flushed. Stepping up to her excused himself as one waltz ended and another began. "Mr Caldwell, Mrs Caldwell," he addressed her parents to be polite, "if it is acceptable to you, may I have the honor of this dance with Miss Caldwell." He asked nervously as he indicated Eleanor, feeling himself ensnared in her vibrant green eyes.
 
She speaking to her mother now as she glanced over to see if he was getting her message to come over and speak to her. Lord, most men knew the language of the fan. There were books so that men knew the first movements of the fan. Well, it seemed that her message had come across to the handsome officer when he did finally approach. It was about time, lord… she was getting bored of sitting with her parents. She wanted to dance soon since it would be starting soon.

She supposed that she could have taken a turn about the ballroom with Fannie… However, she was there with him before her as she smiled with a hint of mischief in her emerald eyes. Her father smiled and said, “Well, I have two daughters so you will have to be specific.” He said almost jovially as Fannie said, “I would like to dance as well.” She smirked as Eleanor looked over to her sister before their mother told Fannie to hush and that another gentlemen would be there any moment to dance with her.

“Yes, of course Lieutenant Gage.” He said as he was giving permission for the man to dance with his eldest daughter. “That is if my daughter is willing to dance with you.” Fannie piped up, “If Ellie will not then I certainly will!” She looked eager as Eleanor looked to her sister with a bit of an icy glare. “Yes, I will dance with you.” She finally spoke before waiting for him to offer his hand so that she could be escorted towards the dance floor for a waltz.

Well, there were a number of dances that they could do. Luckily, she was very good at dancing having taken lessons when she was a girl for such occasions. “You took a little long to come and ask me for a dance, you have been staring at me all evening since I arrived.” She was blunt as she looked up at him with a little smirk.

“It is as if you are interested in me, Lieutenant.” No one could really hear her speaking for those moments as she waited for his response. Lord, would he get embarrassed and blush? That would certainly be amusing if that was the case.
 
Smiling as she took his hand, the lace glove felt soft against his slightly rough palm. As she spoke, the voice lay like honey on his ears, within it though he heard a bit of the vinegar that he had been told about. A slight blush rose on his neck as he led Eleanor to the dance floor and holding one hand in his, the other hand on the small of her back began the next waltz. "Truth be told Miss Caldwell, you are correct," he admitted it sheepishly as they moved about the dance floor. "Since I first saw you my heart has only beat to the thought of you." As he moved close to her, noticed the graceful curve of her cheek, the brightness of the eyes that had captured his attention when he met her.

Eleanor was graceful as they moved around the dance floor, it had been awhile since Alexander had gone dancing but he had practiced enough that it was easy to flow with her. Taller than her he felt as if he was enveloping her with his broad arms, her smell was intoxicating, floral and feminine and something he was unused to from the ladies he met at his family dinners. "I was hoping you would come, but to be honest I did not know you were calling me, my family does not come to these parties often." Jokingly he added, "you seem to be very well versed in how to use a fan." Laughing slightly at his joke as they followed the steps of the waltz, talking when close and stopping when they moved apart.

"My family has been here for a few generations and my parents still cling to some of the older beliefs, because of that we have a successful business but parties tend to be a rarity for us sadly." He stopped as they spread apart to move with the others, switching partners for a moment before coming back together.

As he watched her she truly had the grace and elegance he expected of someone like her, a person of breeding his mother had often said. Though in mother's tone he found it slightly dismissive, as she often thought that breeding came with decadence. The Puritan beliefs still ran through the family, though they were diluted with each generation and with he and his brothers and sisters it was very watered down. Touching her again as they came back together, feeling the softness of the dress under his hand, his heart quickened while he lamented the dance ending.

"I do hope we will have a chance to see each other more Miss Caldwell, I would very much like to spend time with you. Get to know you," he swallowed hard as he knew the words had meaning beyond the simple aspect of knowing her, "I find you a most interesting, and attractive lady."
 
The dance had been lovely and fun, it had been so long that she had almost forgotten how fun dancing could be. Glancing up at the gentleman as it was coming to a close, Eleanor said. “I suppose that you might have to make an effort to speak to me, perhaps?” She could not help herself but tease him a little. “We could start by you getting me a refreshment?” She proposed as a way of being able to talk and get to know one another after a dance.

He had mentioned about how his family was not much for parties. Lord, she did hope that he saw different because she did not think that she could be courted by a man who did not enjoy fun. How very Puritan. He was escorting her off the dance floor towards the refreshment table. There was the punch that was alcoholic… the one that had been spiked but she did not know about but there were also cups being served by a servant of coffee and lemonade as well as the punch along with white wine for those who wanted it.

“You were saying about how you could not go to events and parties growing up? Is it because you lived in the country?” Many of the men in the military were volunteers from the country and that was why she was asking. She did not understand how a business would take away from going to events. “Pity really, it is a great way to become more acquaint with others.” She glanced up at him as she asked for the punch and the servant spooned some into a glass for her.

Taking a sniff, she said. “Good lord, someone no doubt spiked the punch.” She still had a sip after all… one cup was not going to make her a disgrace. “Do tell of your family? What sort of successful business do they run?” She asked curiously before taking another sip of the punch with a bit of rum in it.

There was no better time to get acquainted then at a ball because sometimes, parents were not so watchful as they were in other settings. Not that she would be improper being that she knew there were a lot of watchful eyes and there was the concern of everyone being for the Patriot’s position in the war. “Oh… and do continue praising me on my beauty.” She was not being sarcastic but then, she was a little.
 
Taking a cup of punch that he knew Hammond had already visited noticed the underlying scent of rum, used to it from the warehouse he had drunk some but not much. Feeling more intoxicated from Eleanor's presence than the rum he turned to look at the slightly pointed nose and wide, lush lips. A rounded face that he found attractive, though it had been her demeanor and the fire in her emerald eyes that had first caught her attention. "I will run out of words to praise your angelic countenance, my lady, long before I run out of desire to praise your natural glow." Leaning in slightly whispered rakishly, "although the jealousy of others I cannot do much about sadly." Taking a drink of the punch felt the sweetness of the rum.

"My family have been merchants in Cambridge for a few generations," the family reluctance to talk about their wealth came out now. "We came after the initial settling of the neck, after Winthrop had made the original settlement. We came as part of the Puritan settlement and my family still clings to much of the faith, though many of us have deviated slightly to less restrictive faiths." Stepping aside from the floor he stood close to her, feeling the heat and the scent of her perfume, or whatever the ladies used. "It's just me and my sister Agatha, she is 16 and already she has line of suitors coming to the house. As for me," he gestured towards the uniform, "although my father is not so interested in the cause it has stirred my blood."

The room had become crowded and warmer, he could feel a flush of the rum beginning which was stirring his blood more than he intended. Next to Eleanor, he felt awkward, as if he wanted to impress her but unsure how. Prattling on slightly about the family business, and the family scattered about Massachusetts, some merchants, others bankers or lawyers. A settled family. "What of your family? With such a beautiful daughter your parents must be busy beating off suitors."
 
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