Chapter 9 Lessons
Chapter Nine
Lessons
Supper that evening led to a myriad of surprises.
Not only was Amos welcomed by the Boyds, but Clara seemed wholly warm and jovial—even toward himself.
Benjamin could scarcely keep up with her hot-and-cold mood swings: how she simultaneously held him out at arm’s length and drew him close in the same breath.
To Amos’s credit, he was able to adopt the posh, dutiful mien of a British soldier in far more ways than Benjamin expected.
While he regaled the family with stories of war and valor, Benjamin forced himself to eat.
Each bite went down like bits of cork, dry and tasteless despite the fact he was starving.
He was far too nervous. Amos, or “Reginald Ashby,” as they decided upon, was doing a marvelous job thus far, but the cabinetmaker had a flair for the dramatic.
As if proving Benjamin correct, Amos hoisted his leg onto the table, causing the women to cry out while Jedediah cleared his throat, torn on whether to adhere to decorum or honor a war hero.
“And this is where I got grazed by a bayonet last fall,” Amos said, unfastening the knee band on his right leg.
While he pulled down his stocking and showed Catherine a wide, grinning scar, Benjamin hid a smile.
He knew the mark well. About three summers ago, Amos drunkenly climbed a fence during a prank gone wrong and caught his leg on the wood before falling over the side.
The result had been a nasty cut, a cut currently presented as a bayonet wound to the wide-eyed, pale-faced Boyds.
Fortunately, Jedediah himself was not a veteran, so no one could dispute Amos’s various scars and injuries, one of which was the left index finger he’d lost while using a handsaw.
“Lord above,” Catherine whispered, cooling herself with a paper fan. “Oh, Private Ashby…did you—?”
“Reggie,” Amos corrected, causing her to flush.
“Ah…” Not wanting to list him as a familiar, and thus break the natural order, Catherine flushed more deeply and lowered her eyes. “You are so brave and noble, sir. I shudder to think what you must’ve gone through, and all for the glory of the Crown.”
“Think nothin’ of it,” Amos said, winking. “I did it for our generous king, and would do so again in a heartbeat.”
Benjamin yearned to scoff, yet froze once Clara openly showed her scorn at Catherine’s side.
“With all due respect, Private Ashby, you strike me as more of a thrill seeker than a true man of the Crown. Why, your eyes positively glimmer every time you speak of battle,” she said, smiling as she swirled her wine.
“Soldiers are a fascinating sort. They either fall apart and grow taciturn, or they do as you have: open up and come alive at the talk of blood, sickness, and pain.”
Amos snorted, though it was clear she’d thrown him. “D’ya think so little o’ me, Miss? And here I was, already mighty fond o’ you.”
“Of course not,” Clara said, “though I am curious about the family resemblance.” She looked between Benjamin and Amos. “Philip is reticent, and fair-colored, and…well…tall. You are none of those things.”
“I slouch,” Amos grumbled.
“Relations aren’t always identical,” Deborah said, looking to her sullen husband for help. “Honestly, Clara, why must you always be so difficult? He may not resemble Philip, but how can one ever recreate such a handsome, masterful—?”
“Mother.”
“We’re distant cousins,” Amos fibbed, playfully socking Benjamin on the arm.
“Very distant,” Benjamin agreed, sparing his friend a wry glance. “Truth be told, I’ve never been blessed enough to visit Reggie in London. Once the war is through, I’m hoping to rectify that.”
“Oh, we’d be delighted to show you around London, Philip,” Deborah crowed. “Jedediah has an uncle over there. Isn’t that right, darling?”
Jedediah harrumphed, though it came across as an affirmative.
“Yes, I trust Lottie wishes to move there,” Clara agreed. “She speaks of European society in nearly all her letters.”
Amos finally lowered his leg. “And you don’t, Miss Boyd? ’Cause I’d be happy to squire you ’round London…for a price.”
She appraised him skeptically. “And what price would that be, sir?”
“A dance, o’ course! Though you’ll be gettin’ the better deal here. I both excite and delight.”
Clara scoffed, though she was smiling. “Someone needs to teach you how to flirt, Private. Alas, I am beginning to see the family resemblance: You both are woeful when it comes to female seduction.”
Benjamin flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears, but Amos laughed and struck his arm again.
“Aye, Moony’s not the best when it comes to womenfolk.”
“Moony?” Looking between them, Clara said, “Now that sounds like an origin story I simply must hear.”
Benjamin groaned, sparing Amos a wary look. “Please,” he begged. “Is it not punishment enough that I had to live it?”
“Aye, jus’ think o’ everyone in town who had to live it, too, and with their own two eyes!
” Gleeful, Amos leaned forward and explained, “I thankfully wasn’t in town at the time, but legend has it that during a Bible play—Moses partin’ the Red Sea an’ all that—Moony-boy parted his own sea by runnin’ buck-arse naked through the crowd.
His poor mother was chasin’ after ’im, tryin’ a’ spare the locals of his lily-white arse.
” After a dramatic pause, he concluded, “Moony was twenty years old.”
“I was not, you arsehole! I was six!”
Catherine squeaked in horror, but Clara howled with delight.
Catching himself, Benjamin flushed and apologized, “Forgive me, I did not mean to shout profanity at your table. I only wish to appear my very best around this family, so…I overreacted.”
Jedediah glowered in reply, shoveling a piece of chicken into his mouth, but Deborah and Clara tittered while Catherine reeled from the scandal.
Cleaning up with a finger bowl, Clara grinned and declared, “Be that as it may, you’ve both just shown a shocking amount of liberty.
And as soon-to-be members of this family, I’d like to think you could offer something far better in terms of gentility.
” Pleased with herself, Clara glanced toward Amos and asked, “Perhaps you can prove yourselves this coming weekend? A family friend is hosting a soiree, and I’m certain they would be delighted to entertain a private of His Majesty’s Army. ”
“Ah…er…”
“Some officers will be present,” she assured him. “Do you know Major Adam Markham, by chance?”
“Reggie was just transferred,” Benjamin interjected. “I’m afraid he doesn’t know anyone yet, hence his request to billet.”
“And we are happy to house him,” Deborah promised. “It’s an honor to have such fine, handsome men in our home…regardless of their colorful pasts.”
Jedediah guzzled the remainder of his wine, then impatiently gestured for one of the servants to refill his glass. “So long as those promised ships come along, I’m willing to house whomever you wish, Philip,” he muttered. “When are they arriving?”
“Oh…” Benjamin hesitated. “The end of the week, I’d say. Depending upon the weather conditions, of course.”
“Yes, naturally.” Jedediah’s eyes cut toward Amos. “And what is it you do back in London, Mr. Ashby?”
“Smithing,” Amos said with a grin. “I make the finest silver candlesticks y’ever did see.”
“Does that include jewelry?” Catherine asked, intrigued. “I love brooches, in particular.”
He winked and nodded. “Aye, o’ course! Just ask me, an’ I’ll fashion one up upon me return.”
“I stand corrected,” Clara said, drawing a hand over her chest in a mock swoon. “It seems Philip is the only woeful flirt in this equation, because Private Ashby is speaking Kitty’s love language.”
Catherine flushed, but didn’t deny it.
Benjamin caught Amos’s smirk and rolled his eyes, though he was chuckling. “I’m afraid I am far better equipped for shipbuilding production than flirtations, Miss Boyd.”
“Ships are similar to womenfolk,” Amos assured him. “Both rock an’ shudder whenever ya set into port, if y’get my meanin’.”
Jedediah choked into his wine, but Clara threw her head back in a vibrant laugh, her cheeks growing pink as she hid her smile behind a fair hand.
To Benjamin’s surprise, a sensation akin to jealousy burned within his breast, tart and bilious.
He’d never been clever enough to earn her laughter; not unless it was at his own expense.
Embittered, Benjamin took a swallow of wine and ignored Amos’s gleeful jab against his ribs.
“I think the womenfolk should retire,” Jedediah announced, sending Clara a pointed look. “Why don’t you three head into the sitting room?”
“Oh yes, I’m certain we have much to discuss,” the redhead agreed, her tone smug as everyone rose from the table. “Thank you for the entertainment, gentlemen.” To Benjamin, she curtsied. “Perhaps you should listen to your cousin, Philip. He seems far more worldly.”
Again, a sickening sensation flooded Benjamin’s gut, and after bowing, he flushed as one by one, the women filed from the dining room.
Downing the remainder of his drink in one large, triumphant swallow, Amos slammed his glass onto the table. “Now, then!” he exclaimed. “Who wants to hear about the time I slew a group o’ rebels, hmm?”
Jedediah appeared intrigued, but all Benjamin offered was a weakened smile.
Once Jedediah retired for the evening, the womenfolk continued their embroidery and chatted in the sitting room.
Benjamin and Amos said their goodnights, but the former didn’t return to his bedroom.
No, he was presently searching through Clara’s bedchambers.
It was foolish—dangerous—and yet he knew that for the sake of the colonies, he needed to finally glean that dreaded bodice pin.
He’d wasted far too much time as it was.