Chapter 14
Erva had asked Mrs. Jacobs to tell Will that she waited for him in the carriage, needing privacy to talk to him. Will’s attack on Kip’s Bay was slated in two days. Not only could she ask him to take it easy on the Americans, but she had to figure out a way for him not to fight the day after that battle. The day he was to die.
That was when Erva realized he’d carefully never answered her when she’d asked him why he was here. If he agreed America should have her independence, and he’d said as much just hours ago, then there was no reason for him to be here. He seemed to be pro-American, if anything. So why was he here?
Many a British military man hadn’t agreed with the war. In fact, both commanders in chief of the British Army and the Royal Navy, the Howe brothers, had voted against the war too. But here they were. However, Erva knew that the brothers were monarchists who came to the war to force peace upon the rebelling colonies. They were thoroughly steeped in aristocratic hierarchy. Will was not though. When asked further as they’d traversed back to his rented manse, he’d spouted of equality, egalitarianism, talking about women voting, everyone voting.
Yeah, she should get to the bottom of why he would come here to fight.
Will jogged out of his rented mansion toward her in the carriage. She’d left the door open, since it was a warm night, and even let her slip of a shawl drape low, revealing her shoulders.
God, what had she just been thinking? She utterly forgot as Will got closer.
“Erva, what are you doing waiting for me? I’m supposed to be the one to wait on you.” Will hurried into the carriage, his face tense. “How fares your knee?”
That did it. He was so perfect with the combination of chivalry and consideration. Erva latched onto his cravat and pulled. She kissed him before he could say another word, but he did make an odd noise against her lips.
He’d been hovering over her, not yet seated. But with the kiss, and then the driver taking off, Will careened onto the bench next to her. He tried to keep up with her frantic kiss, but pulled away, panting.
Leaning a little out of the carriage, he closed the door, then turned to her with a wide smile. “Perhaps I should cancel attending the banquet after all?”
She shrugged. “We’ll go, but let’s try to make it short.” Then she lunged for his lips again.
However, making things short at the banquet, where everything looked remarkably similar to the soiree Erva had attended last night, turned into an agonizing feat. It seemed all of New York, including many people from Manhattan—the island that was still under Continental control—had come to meet her. There hadn’t been one moment that Erva could cling to Will and tip up to kiss him. Too many people surrounded her, too public. But she did love that Will was constantly at her side, giving her a small, happy grin.
He didn’t talk much, but instead let her do it for him. People assumed they were already a couple, and if Will didn’t mind, then she didn’t either. Well, she liked it, truth be told. No, she loved it. She loved already feeling connected to him.
She kept trying to remind herself that she shouldn’t feel this way, none of this made sense, but then Will’s hand at the small of her back warmed her, sizzled through her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear that she glowed like gold, and she couldn’t stop the constant gnawing need growing within her for him.
Two hours into the banquet, the crowd begged for another performance. Lady Anne requested the song she’d sung last night and one other. Having enough of the crowd, and Winny’s continual whining appearance, Erva agreed, deciding to bring the house down, as the musicians from her time would say. She replayed the song by Danny Elfman, the sad tune, and thought she’d sung even better this time. The crowd cheered, but then she decided to cheat by performing Beethoven, who was still a child somewhere in Germany right about then. Well, playing the first song had been cheating, but Beethoven, especially when given that no one had ever heard anything like him, would astonish the crowd.