Samantha set the bowl on the table and sank onto a side chair. "Curiosity, mainly. And it wasn't any more dangerous than visiting a doctor."

"So you went to see an Indian doctor?" The Indians on the frontier were known to side with the British during the war and therefore not to be trusted. "You risked your life and your reputation. Why?"

Looking at the fire shadows dancing on the wall, Samantha let out a long, slow breath. "Because I had hurt my leg and needed help, but didn't trust the town doctor. I did not have what I needed to heal it." She rubbed her right thigh as she spoke, finally turning to face Emily again.

"How did you hurt it?" Emily studied Tommy's face, leaving Samantha to answer when ready. Her question had hovered in her mind ever since her friend returned to town limping. She waited, hoping the silence between them presaged the revelation of her friend's mysterious injury.

Tommy stopped crying, his eyes drifting closed though he didn't feel relaxed enough to actually sleep. The long silence from her friend drew her attention. She peered at Samantha, noticing the way she examined the room, her gaze lighting briefly on the ivory carvings on the mantel, then to the sketch of the town square hanging on one wall, and back to the child. "Well?"

"A bad cut... from an accident."

"My goodness! If it's still bothering you, it must have been very bad. Mayhap you should see the doctor about it."

"I'll be fine." She patted her leg as if to prove its strength. "There's no need to impose on a doctor."

The tension in Samantha's posture indicated she felt defensive, on edge. Emily studied her for a long moment. She couldn't let it go so easily. "But it's been months. It should have healed by now."

"It only aches sometimes." Samantha shrugged lightly. "That's when I rub it."

"I see." Healing skills apparently involved more art than science. Emily gazed at the boy. His little body felt warm in her arms, his breathing fast and shallow. "Will this little one survive? I mean, will the fleabane really protect him from the venom?"

"It should. I don't know if I used enough or too much, but the fever will continue only until the medicine has a chance to work. Babies have different reactions to the herbs than adults do. We'll know more by this evening."

"That seems such a long time considering how many children have died from these invaders." Emily swayed with Tommy cuddled in her embrace. "Need I worry?"

"Nay, he will be fine. I treated him within a short period." Samantha peered at her. "You do believe me, don't you?"

Emily smiled in response. "I need to send for Frank. He'll want to be informed." The little body seared her inner arms. "He's burning up. Do you think mayhap we should call for the doctor?"

Samantha's brow furrowed as she stared at Emily. "We don't need old Dr. Cunningham yet. If he gets worse, we can send for him. His body must fight the venom, so there is internal heat."

So Samantha finally showed her defensiveness. Emily held her tongue, deciding to trust her friend's judgment. Samantha resented being questioned about her longtime role as healer in the town. Doctors employed somewhat suspicious treatments that did not always work. Samantha's reasons seemed based upon her experience and knowledge, so Emily slowly nodded in agreement.

Samantha touched the boy's forehead. "He will sleep now. If you'd like, I'll sit with him while he sleeps and keep an eye on him."

"Thank you. I would feel better if you stayed, given your training. Unless you have other obligations?" Please stay.

Samantha shook her head. "Come, let's lay him down."

"I wish I knew more about healing," Emily said, rising. "I feel so helpless."

"It's not too late to learn, my friend." Samantha brushed gossamer strands of hair from the boy's forehead. "Even as you teach him what he needs to know, you can learn right along with him."

"But I should already know things." Frustration raced through Emily. Why had they kept her from learning so many things? Only recently had she realized the limited extent of her education. The more she learned, the more questions popped into her head.

"You possess more knowledge than you realize." Samantha opened the door to the bedroom, and Emily gently laid the baby in his nest of blankets. "n.o.body can learn everything, especially not in fewer than three decades."

"All the more reason to have started sooner." Emily pulled a chair closer to the cradle, recalling to mind the stack of crates in the corner of the nursery across the hall. The shipment of baby furniture and clothing her father obtained from India had been a G.o.dsend, or so she thought at the time. "I wonder how many more vermin are in those crates delivered recently."

"We should have them removed, to be certain." Samantha sat down in the rocking chair. "When you go down, perhaps you can send one of the slaves up to haul them out of here."

"I will. And thank you again for being such a good friend," Emily said. "I'm fortunate to have met you at the market last year. Your friendship has been a blessing."

Samantha smiled at her, a touch of sadness hovering in the corners of her mouth. "We'll see if you still feel the same way after I investigate why your mother and sister actually died."

Emily stared at her friend, conflicting emotions warring within. "Indeed."

Chapter 11.

The sun had finally burned away the fog when Frank managed to tear himself from the printing press later in the afternoon. Solomon had arrived earlier to request him to call on Miss Emily as soon as possible, but he needed to complete his work before he could answer her summons. Perhaps he should have left sooner, but he trusted Emily to handle the matter until he finished this urgent task. His back ached from leaning over the channels to align the type precisely. Tomorrow the paper must be printed, including the secret message intended for General Greene. He had spent hours laying out the new edition, ensuring the coded message appeared in the upper right corner of the specific page as required. To a casual reader, the advertis.e.m.e.nt for doeskin ladies gloves was innocuous. Only if one knew the decryption method could one read the information about the enemy troop locations and numbers.

As the day marched toward evening, he longed to see Emily. To hear her voice and breathe her scent. Cleaning his ink-stained hands on a rag, Frank sent Sawyer home. As he left, he paused and scanned the area, Sawyer's tan-clad bulk with dapper tricorne retreating down the busy street. Puffy clouds drifted across the pale blue sky, a light wind cooling Frank's cheeks. The afternoon lingered in its infancy, and for many folks closing shop this early would be considered scandalous. Men labored along the wharfs, the strike of hammers pounding wooden lathes into barrels echoing against the buildings facing the harbor. Free from the confines of the shop, he inhaled the bracing sea air. He'd kept Emily waiting too long already. He strode down the dirty avenue, his steps decisive.

He hoped any nosy neighbors would say he was a wise man for not wasting another minute in the little ink-scented shop. The general had ordered him to return to Charles Town as a loyalist to obtain the necessary intelligence to protect the town's interests. Appearing to be a turncoat went against his basic beliefs, but the general's personal promise of a.s.sistance to travel abroad after the war sweetened the deal.

Memories of his time at Oxford floated in his head, sparking the longing stoked by the war. Sketches and engravings of the Coliseum in Italy and of the Great Wall of China teased his imagination. He wanted, no, needed to see those vistas in person. He craved the feeling of the majesty of the Himalayas or the beauty of the Orkney Islands. His thirst for adventures yielding insight and understanding about other cultures, other ways of life, remained unquenched. One day he would be free to travel to places denied him because of the war. For now, another mission lay before him. See Emily.

His pace quickened as he neared Emily's house. General Greene's plan led him home to her. For practicality's sake, he had married Elizabeth and given Tommy a father. Enough children became orphaned as a result of the fighting, and to his mind Tommy need not be one of them. His plans failed on that count, given the child still had no mother. Emily tried to hide her feelings about her nephew, but he saw in her eyes the truth. Trapped like him. But he had a plan to fix that, free her from the responsibilities motherhood brought. Then perhaps she'd laugh more, return to the cheerful, loving woman he knew. If he could convince her of his feelings. Now, though, a somberness clung to her like a second skin, weighing down her buoyant nature.

Before entering Emily's home, his temporary one if his other plans panned out, he scanned the street, searching for anything unexpected. A couple of boys ran by, calling to a mate down the road. A watchful pair of older brothers herded a group of young girls down the street. Late afternoon sun lengthened the shadows of the now five-year-old trees, planted as a sign of the hopeful future of the town, lining the road. Several sparrows hopped and fluttered along the side of the road, searching for their afternoon repast.

The door creaked behind him, and he turned to find Jasmine grinning at him. "Captain Thomson, what you doing standing out here? Come in. You don't need to knock."

"Is Miss Emily home?"

"Yes, sir. I expect you'll want to see Tommy, after all he's been through this afternoon. Poor boy." Jasmine shook her head slowly and opened the door wider to allow him to enter.

"What happened?" Apprehension and guilt shot through Frank at her words. His boots echoed on the planked floor as he surged into the house, barely refraining from running down the hall. The scent of wood smoke from the fireplaces greeted him. He should have come home right away.

"All is fine now. Miss Emily will tell you about it, I'm sure. She's upstairs with the little one and Miss Samantha."

The rustle of skirts whispering in the hallway alerted him to Emily's approach.

She paused in the door, and he had to look twice to ensure the vision before him lived and breathed. Would he never become accustomed to her beauty? Her splendor swept his breath from his body. Her alabaster skin emphasized her cherry lips and bright blue eyes. He only half saw the light brown gown, noticing only how it emphasized her hips. A white collar embroidered with tiny flowers peeked from the neckline, tantalizingly obscuring her cleavage.

"Frank," she said, frowning lightly. "I thought you would surely arrive sooner. My apologies for interrupting your work, but I knew you'd be concerned about Tommy."

She must think him daft, standing there gaping like a fool. Frank hurried to her with hand outstretched. "I want to hear all about whatever happened. But first, my dear Em, I must tell you how lovely you are this afternoon."

She watched him approach, unsmiling, head tilting to one side. Whatever was wrong had obviously been taken care of and the details would wait another moment while he drank in her loveliness.

Frank lifted her hand and pressed a kiss on its back, a.s.sessing her expression as he did so. The delicate scent of lavender surrounding her satisfied his craving. To be near her equaled heaven on earth. The concern in her eyes finally registered. "Now tell me, what happened."

She quickly related the incident to him. "Samantha treated him with a salve she made."

"You didn't summon Dr. Cunningham?" Using folk medicine when a perfectly trained doctor lived three blocks away? Science and medicine had advanced greatly over the past decades, and still people continued to surprise him by sticking with old wives' tales.

"Doctors don't always have a high success record, compared to the experienced healers we enjoy in town," Emily replied. "Besides, I trust my friend to do what's best."

"And I trust the good doctor will have more education and training behind his methods." Frank stared at her for a long moment, not fathoming how she could defend the old ways. "You should have sent for the doctor immediately."

Emily stiffened, eyes narrowing. "Samantha is trained in healing and a.s.sured me he will recover. You've left him in my care while you're off doing whatever it is you do all day. Trust me."

"I do." Her moodiness frustrated him. How could she not be concerned about the boy's welfare? He took a deep breath to calm his agitation. "I wish to see him."

"He naps in his bed, so I'd prefer you wait."

"His breathing? It's even?"

"Yes. Samantha a.s.sures me his fever will break while he sleeps. She's staying with him to ensure all goes well." Emily laid a hand on his and gazed steadily into his eyes. "He'll recover. We have matters well in hand. Give it time."

A snake in the house was a serious matter, but his long delay left handling it to others. Obviously he could do nothing for Tommy now. He took another deep breath. Perhaps the fates gave him this chance to take the next step in his plan. His shoulders relaxed, the tension easing. "If you're sure we're not needed here, would you care to walk with me? We won't be away long, and I have something I'd like to show you."

She raised her eyebrows as she smiled at him. "Now that the commotion has settled, I'd love to. Where shall we go?"

"To show you the secret collection." Frank tried but failed to resist the temptation of kissing her hand again. He wanted to share his pride and joy with her, to gauge her reaction to their wonders. The additional crates should be safely stowed inside. It wouldn't hurt to make sure the b.l.o.o.d.y turncoat hadn't stumbled upon that particular treasure trove, either.

"A collection?" She c.o.c.ked her head curiously. "What kind?"

Her expression stopped him. It seemed her beauty increased each time he saw her. Her golden hair fell lightly on her shoulders, pulled back on the sides and held in place by ivory combs carved into elephants linked trunk to tail. The silver flecks in her eyes twinkled with curiosity. Lips the color of pomegranates parted to hint at pearly teeth. Lips begging him to taste them.

"Are you all right?" she asked briskly. "You seem distracted."

Absolutely. He could stand all day and marvel at her loveliness. Instead he shook off the longing for her kiss and winked. "It's a surprise. Get your things and I'll show you."

When they arrived at his warehouse, nestled between two much larger buildings on a side alley, he pulled a key from his inside pocket and soon swung the ma.s.sive wooden door open. He hoped she'd be impressed with the a.s.sortment of specimens hidden inside the apparently decrepit building. The air of decay helped mask the treasures within, and the high, darkened windows kept the prying British eyes from peering too closely. Once the war concluded, he'd move all these fascinating objects to a beautiful, airy venue so everyone could enjoy the benefits of his and many other men's labors.

Pulling a lantern from the hook inside the door, he lit it before leading Emily into the dim interior. Flickering lamplight created dancing shadows on the walls and ceiling. A slight breeze accompanied them, stirring the layer of dust coating the mounds of boxes and crates into a cloud that choked them.

The scrabble of unseen claws echoed in the quiet. Emily inhaled sharply beside him. When she didn't squeal in fear like other women of his acquaintance, he felt stupidly proud of her. Barrels and crates surrounded them, some with their lids pried open and left askew. Others huddled against the wall, splattered with markings from ports Frank longed to visit. One day he would, too, if he had his way. The vast quant.i.ty of crates reflected the extent of the growing collection. As long as the collection remained safe, the natural museum had a chance of reopening and continuing to inspire the townspeople. Exposure to other worlds through conversations he partic.i.p.ated in, as well as the rare books he borrowed and read, contributed to Frank's own expansive curiosity. He desired to experience living in the shadow of the Great Wall. To awaken to the sound of an eagle screaming in the Alps. One day he, hopefully with Emily at his side, would know life in other faraway locales. That vow he did not mind making and would never willingly break.

"Where did all this come from?" She surveyed the vast warehouse.

"All over the world." Her delight brought a smile to his lips.

"How did it get here?" She glanced at him then let her gaze slide away to scan the room.

Of course she would ask that question, one he wouldn't answer for her own good. And her peace of mind since it involved her father's clandestine affairs as well. "Does it matter? Come." He took her elbow and propelled her through the winding aisles of the storage area. "I want you to see these."

She trembled beside him. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head in silence.

"It's not much farther. Over here."

She followed him without a word. Satisfaction flowed through him when she did not hesitate to accept his proffered arm, laying a hand on the dark fabric. She must be distracted by all the wonders around her, or she would not have acquiesced so quickly. What did she think as her gaze lit on each object?

Several shelves spanned the back of the building and boasted a group of straw-stuffed birds and liquid-filled gla.s.s jars in an a.s.sortment of sizes displaying a montage of specimens. If it were not for Benjamin's efforts and subtlety, the collection would not be safely ensconced in this discreet location.

Without thinking, Frank gravitated toward the largest of the containers. The two-foot-tall jar, showcasing a black python in a contorted position, intrigued him. When the snake first arrived from the African jungle a few months earlier, Frank had deplored the fact of its death. The snake had traveled so far and, if alive of course, would have seen and experienced so much he dearly longed to lay eyes on. Beside the python rested another smaller vessel with brown speckled quail eggs bobbing in the cloudy fluid, and in yet another the heart of an antelope. He looked away from the crimson, chambered organ, the illusion of it slowly beating within its gla.s.s prison too much for his imaginings.

"What's in those crates?" Emily motioned to the piles and stacks filling the center of the immense warehouse. The lantern in his hand fought the darkness of the room. In this light, tarpaulin-covered windows hid beyond the illuminated pile. With Emily at his side, the dim s.p.a.ce changed into a romantic haven. The lamplight danced across pearly skin, her lips in sharp contrast. He wanted to taste them but hesitated, knowing she only reluctantly entered their courtship.

"Mostly preserved animals," he said instead of acting upon his desires. Taking her slight hand in his, he led her between the stacks, pointing out various features. "Somewhere out there is a hyena from Africa, a bristly hedgehog from London, and an orangutan from Sumatra, too."

"What is an orangutan?" Emily turned lovely eyes to him, and they tugged on his heart, drawing him closer to her.

"An orangutan is a type of primate, with long orange hair all over its body. Its name means 'man of the forest.'" He enjoyed sharing his knowledge with her. Would she want to journey with him if he could amply pique her curiosity? "They were once mistaken for people hiding in the jungles."

"How peculiar, to refer to a monkey as a person." She moistened her lips, and he forced himself to look away from the quicksilver tongue before taking a steadying breath.

"It's one of the great apes, not a monkey." Frank patiently explained the difference even as his gaze drifted around the room, lighting briefly on each shadowy object.

The far-ranging collection filled him with pride. He envisioned a time when people brought their families to explore the wonders of the Earth in this little harbor town. He imagined the sandy streets paved with cobblestones. The young trees planted several years ago growing tall and strong, shading the sidewalks for the pedestrians' comfort. More houses would line the streets with more families to live in them and what would become lush courtyard gardens. He imagined the beginnings of a peaceful town full of happy and contented citizens, unlike the current fear permeating every man, woman and child. After the war ended, all the town's plans and dreams could be made to come true. Would he live to see those changes? He looked at Emily and smiled. They would see them together.

"Do you wish to travel to the places where these things originated?" Emily asked. "I imagine they must live very differently there from what we're accustomed."

"I yearn to go to faraway places and experience how others live." Frank looked at her with renewed respect. "I did not know you wanted to travel as well."

Her head nodded furiously. "I want to know so much, to understand more than I do. I feel like I've only had a taste of life's treasures."

"This America we're creating will enable us to live as we choose," he said slowly. "I plan to travel more than ever and bring back items from far away to share with others here. To broaden not only my education but those of the people, and of the children, like Tommy, in particular."

"Girls, too?"

"Of course. All children," Frank said. "Like you so eloquently said in your essay, we must educate our children in order for them to be fit to continue our new country."

"Thank you." Emily graced him with a radiant smile.

Frank's lower extremities responded to the open approval in her eyes. He squeezed her elbow, tugging her toward him. Her mouth pursed as she looked at his eyes, his lips, and back again. His world reduced to her lips, his flaming need to touch them, taste her essence. He turned her to face him, his hands skimming up her arms to her shoulders, inviting her into his embrace. Relief and desire blended within him as she stepped closer, her face tilted up, eyes on his mouth.

The contact of their lips ignited a series of tiny shocks, combining and building, finally bursting into a wildfire of desire. Deepening the kiss, he plunged his tongue into the sweet inner region of her mouth. Instead of satiating his desire, her sweet elixir intoxicated him, fueled his need. He never wanted to stop, to break this intimate connection with her. Wrapping his arms around her, pulling her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tight against his chest, reveling in the firm softness of the twin globes he dreamed of catching with his hands. Not yet. But soon.

The sound of the ma.s.sive door swinging open tugged at his consciousness. He ignored it. When the whisper of a breeze brushed his cheek, though, he knew they had company. He reluctantly parted his lips from hers. Emily's eyes stayed closed until a sudden shaft of light illuminated her face. Her lips, plumped from his kiss, tempted him again. Perhaps one more...

"Frank, I didn't expect to find you here!"

At the interruption, Emily blinked and stepped away from Frank, leaving him bereft, to face the visitor.

Even though Frank hadn't heard that deep voice in two years, it could only be Benjamin. His stalwart friend with extremely poor-or mayhap perfect-timing. Emily inhaled sharply and smoothed her hair, staring over his shoulder. He reluctantly dropped his hands from Emily's arms and turned to greet the new arrival.

"Finally decided to make an appearance?" Closing the distance between them, Frank clasped Benjamin's strong hand and accepted the brief half hug they'd adopted during years of sporadic militia training as an acceptable brotherly greeting. His friend looked much the same as the last time he'd seen him. Maybe a bit more muscular, as expected given the nature of his a.s.signments. Weak spies would be useless, after all, ferreting information from the British across the southern colonies. From the adventures Benjamin had shared with him in the past, he needed to be burly enough to extricate himself from dangerous situations.