Preview of Whispers of Treason
One
Anna Randolph stooped among the early pink hyacinths, breathing deeply of their beautiful scent, and hoping beyond hope that Captain Bryce Morgan wouldn’t see her.
She’d been delighted at her family’s invitation to Monticello for refreshments and small talk for the women while the men discussed the business of war, but she hadn’t known he would be there.
Had she, Anna would have pleaded a headache, even if she loved her mother’s cousin, Martha Jefferson, dearly, and enjoyed roaming around the grounds.
Voices drifted from the distance, each in different directions, but both just as compelling to listen to.
“Thomas says he plans to expand the Fruitery,” Martha was saying.
“Our South Orchard will be magnificent next year, as will the vineyards. This season, we’ve already had a good number of currants and gooseberries.
He thinks he’ll bring more varieties to join them.
Between those and the North Orchard, I believe he said this morning that we have thirty species of fruits.
He says, however, one day he expects it to have three times as many—perhaps more! ”
Anna’s ears perked at that. Everyone in Charlottesville knew that Thomas Jefferson had magnificent gardens. Not just to provide for the house, but also because he was a student, among other things, of botany.
His Fruitery was indeed spectacular, as was the vegetable garden.
Anna would admit, though, the fragrant flower gardens were her favorite spot.
From spring until fall, it bloomed in a spectacular display of color and variety.
Between the roses and the tulips, the Four o’clocks, and the many other species he had, she could be content staying among them for hours.
“But if those Tories don’t stop aiding the Redcoats, we will lose even more supplies,” Anna’s father said, drawing her attention toward the conversation he was having with Thomas Jefferson and several other men who wore uniforms of the Continental Army.
Frustration filled his words. “It’s the second time a delivery has been delayed so significantly. Part of it has been lost, as well.”
Anna bit her lip. She was well aware of the situation, as her father was one of the suppliers for the army.
He dealt in necessities, such as shoes and blankets and fabric for the uniforms. There had been such a shortage—and so many thefts—of the wool broadcloth, he’d been bringing in linen for the shirts, vests, and overalls.
Something that both he and those in charge knew would not keep their soldiers warm in the winter that would be here far sooner than anyone was prepared for.
Many had been lost on both sides to the harsh winters and not enough food.
Uniforms lacking in warmth would hasten death. She prayed this winter would be kinder.
The voices of the men faded as they walked along the grounds, and Anna moved closer to a small bench, wondering, if she sat low enough, if Captain Morgan would overlook her.
A sudden noise caught her attention, and as Anna’s head moved one way, her feet continued forward, and she stumbled.
“Forgive me, Miss Randolph,” a man said, his hand reaching out as though to steady her. “I hope you are not hurt?”
Heat came to Anna’s cheeks, though she wasn’t sure why. “I’m quite fine,” she said. “It was I who was not paying attention, Major Coleman.”
“I was going to get something to ease my parched throat,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”
Would she? Anna hesitated. On the one hand, she had nothing against Major James Coleman. He was polite and respectful, and often did business with her father. A handful of years older than her, perhaps a few more, he’d never made her feel uncomfortable.
However, if she did join him—and how she longed to, with the warm sun beating down on her—Captain Morgan might see her.
“Ah!” he said suddenly, with an understanding look. “If you wait for me at that bench, I will fetch us something, and then whoever it is you are trying to hide from will not see you.”
“I-I,” Anna stammered, the heat rushing to her cheeks once more, but the major merely winked and strode away quickly, his long legs carrying him away before she could think what it was she wanted to say.
Glancing around, Anna made her way to the bench.
Would it be proper to be with him? The garden was open, her mother wasn’t too far away, and Governor Jefferson’s young daughters, Martha “Patsy” and Mary “Polly” were sitting upon a blanket nearby, under the watchful eye of a woman in a crisp house uniform.
Martha was playing with a doll, and Mary was rubbing at her eyes sleepily.
It wasn’t truly alone. It should be safe. And his company would be welcome. There would be no awkwardness or pressure.
“Here we are,” Major Coleman said, handing Anna a teacup with soft pink roses and scrolls made of greenery around the rim. It was filled with coffee.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a small sip.
The major nodded and drank deeply, then asked, “May I share a confidence?”
“Of course,” Anna said.
He leaned in closely and whispered, “Sometimes, I miss drinking tea.”
A smile came to Anna’s lips, as did a laugh. “As do I. But the taste of liberty is far dearer to me.”
“I agree,” Major Coleman said. “Even after we gain our independence, I may never drink it again!”
“Do you think the war will be over soon?” Anna asked. “I was just overhearing Father’s concern about the material for the men’s uniforms.”
He shook his head slowly. “How I wish it were to be. Too many good men on both sides have been lost. War, though it sounds glorious to a young child playing soldiers, is far different from the realities.
“I know we are not the only ones struggling to get supplies, to feed our soldiers, or to get adequate medical aid. Yet, the battles continue. As long as King George refuses to see us as our own independent country, we will be at war. Lives will be impacted on both sides, families and friends torn apart. Then there is the recovery. How long will that take?”
Anna nodded. She knew all of what he’d said, and had thought the same many times.
So, she didn’t really know why she’d asked the question, other than that when talking to Major Coleman, it felt easy.
He didn’t look down upon her for being a woman, and often spoke freely in her presence while at her father’s home, checking on orders.
“Father says the debt both sides have incurred is great,” Anna said.
“I suspect that’s true,” Major Coleman said.
“We’ve no choice, though. The loss of self-government, the taxation without representation, the Quartering Acts, the Boston Massacre.
Then there are the blockades. I could go on.
But you know all of this.” He smiled at her.
“Your father raised a very clever daughter.”
Anna gave a soft laugh, though she smiled at the genuine compliment. “I am fortunate that he values the opinions and judgment of my mother and I, treating our minds as equal to his own. And I extend that same appreciation to you, Major.”
“Some of the most intellectual minds and fiercest hearts I’ve ever known belonged in the body of a woman,” he said, nodding toward her.
“There are a great many small-minded men in this world. Do not ever let them tell you that your mind is weak or unable to comprehend the things which you do, Miss Randolph.”
Anna felt her breath catch. It was foolish; why should she feel such a way? Anna had no desire to entangle herself in a relationship, in part due to the war and in part because she didn’t feel ready. No, it was simply that she appreciated his conversation, and the coffee, and the time away from—
“There you are! Your father sent me looking for you,” Captain Morgan said, striding toward her. He paused as he realized she wasn’t alone, and addressed his commanding officer. “Sir.”
“Captain,” the major said, standing. “I will leave Miss Randolph in your care, as I am sure you will see her safely into her father’s care.” He nodded at her and walked away without another word.
“You said Father was looking for me?” Anna asked, standing quickly. She didn’t want the captain to think she welcomed his sitting next to her. She started in the direction she’d last seen her father.
“Yes, but perhaps a turn around the gardens first?” the captain asked. “I’m sure he won’t mind if we delay just for a few moments.”
She should have been flattered. The captain was two years older than her, and devastatingly handsome.
His bright blue eyes were sharp, boasting of an intelligence her parents claimed but she’d yet to see, while his blonde hair was perfectly combed, and his physique, muscular and slightly taller than her, was an image to behold, her mother had whispered to her.
He was also, as her mother had again and again said, from a good family. Not as high a station as her own, but still good. Anna thought he put on airs as though he were from the royal family himself, though she did not share her opinion.
The occasional time Anna had seen him in town, women—married or not—had stared at him, almost moony eyed. Yet, there was something about him Anna didn’t trust. Just a feeling that filled her soul, keeping her words polite, but nothing deeper than surface level.
Perhaps it was the arrogant way she’d heard him speak down to others, the way he interrupted her or spoke over her.
Maybe it was even the time she’d asked him a question, and he’d laughed and told her not to worry her pretty little head over it, that it was far beyond her understanding, when instead, Anna was quite sure she’d have understood, with a little more information.
Each of those things had incensed Anna, for though she might be of the fairer, weaker species, her mind was as well-educated as any one of her peers; of that she was sure.
The captain offered his arm, and Anna knew she must accept it. With a tight smile, she stepped closer and was relieved as her mother and her cousin Martha rounded the corner.
Captain Morgan lowered his arm and bowed. “Mrs. Jefferson, Mrs. Randolph,” he greeted.
Anna took advantage of their arrival to step to her mother’s side. “Did you smell the lovely pink roses?”
“I did!” her mother said.
“If you enjoyed those, you must come see what I have over here,” Martha said, taking Anna’s hand. “Excuse us, Captain.”
“Of course,” he said, bowing once more.
Anna let herself be led away, aware of the captain’s eyes upon her.
Unlike the major’s eyes, they weren’t warm, but calculating.
Though moments before she’d been feeling almost overheated from the unseasonably warm spring day, chills washed over her arms. She was grateful that though she were twenty-four, it was still considered inappropriate to be alone with a man.
In truth, no matter her age, Captain Bryce Morgan was not a man she wanted to be around. With or without others nearby.