Templeton.” Hugh Highbury stood there with a wide grin. “I’m so glad to have found you alone. We simply must talk about the war in the colonies.”
A mix of relief and irritation swept through Jamie. He knew he should pretend to be insulted. But something in the younger man’s eyes stopped him. He rested one shoulder against the study door, praying he would be able to find the right words. After all, this man and his father supported the Revolution in open defiance against their king and powerful men in Parliament, and he might know something of value. Jamie would be foolish to make him an enemy.
“Highbury, I came down here for a short rest.” Hetouched the back of his head. “That blow when I fell off the horse still has me a bit off balance.”
“I’m terribly sorry, my good fellow.” Highbury reached up to pat Jamie’s shoulder. “Had I known you did not ride…” He smirked. “I no doubt would have challenged you, anyway.”
Jamie winced and offered a weak chuckle designed to confirm his need for rest.
Highbury glanced around the candlelit hallway and up the stairs, then sniffed the air and cupped a hand behind his ear. “Can’t see anyone. Can’t smell anyone. Can’t hear anyone. We’re in the clear. Why don’t we step into the privacy of Bennington’s library, and you can tell me what old Washington and his friends are up to. Is it true this entire rebellion began in a Boston tavern?”
Jamie swallowed a groan. Those words revealed far more than Highbury could possibly realize. If he knew anything of value about the Revolution, he never would have asked such a foolish question. Nor would he be so flippant about it.
“Listen, Highbury.” Jamie stood to his full height, head and shoulders above the other man, and leaned toward him like the sea captain he was. The shorter man blinked and his jaw went slack, just the effect Jamie had hoped for. “For you this is a game. But I could be accused of treason merely for meeting privately with a Whig. Surely you realize, as Lord Bennington’s guest, I will defer to him in all things. Now, I don’t have anything against you, lad, but if you have any decency, leave me alone so I can rest.” For further effect, he once again put his hand on the back of his head.
“I—I say, Templeton, easy on.” Highbury’s shoulders slumped. “I’m merely looking for diversion.” He waved in a dismissive gesture. “You cannot imagine how boring life can be when one is on the outs with the cream of society.”
Comprehension swept through Jamie. He’d almost trusted this man. This silly, pampered pup. He clamped one hand on Highbury’s shoulder harder than he needed to, and was rewarded when panic swept over the man’s youthful face. “But look around, lad. You are right here among that cream of society tonight. Why are you wasting time with me when fifty eligible young ladies are no doubt awaiting your attention upstairs?”
Highbury shrugged. “I suppose.” He brightened. “Yes, that’s just the thing. I believe the minuet is up next, and I would loathe to miss it. You see, Miss Martin actually promised to dance with me, and she would never speak to me again if I stood her up.”
Jamie gave his shoulder a hearty shove. “By all means, go. You must not keep Miss Martin waiting.”
Grinning broadly, Highbury dashed toward the stairs and ran up them two at a time. Jamie waited until certain the young pup was gone for good, then ducked into the library, praying no one else would accost him.
The dark, quiet room was cool, with just a hint of Bennington’s favorite tobacco in the air. Outside the velvet-draped windows, torches lit the street so guests could make their way to the door. Jamie could see drivers tending their carriages and footmen standing by to assist latecomers. At any time, one of them might peer in the window. In the torchlight, Jamie saw his own shadow flicker on one wall, but when he moved to Bennington’s desk, darkness
A mix of relief and irritation swept through Jamie. He knew he should pretend to be insulted. But something in the younger man’s eyes stopped him. He rested one shoulder against the study door, praying he would be able to find the right words. After all, this man and his father supported the Revolution in open defiance against their king and powerful men in Parliament, and he might know something of value. Jamie would be foolish to make him an enemy.
“Highbury, I came down here for a short rest.” Hetouched the back of his head. “That blow when I fell off the horse still has me a bit off balance.”
“I’m terribly sorry, my good fellow.” Highbury reached up to pat Jamie’s shoulder. “Had I known you did not ride…” He smirked. “I no doubt would have challenged you, anyway.”
Jamie winced and offered a weak chuckle designed to confirm his need for rest.
Highbury glanced around the candlelit hallway and up the stairs, then sniffed the air and cupped a hand behind his ear. “Can’t see anyone. Can’t smell anyone. Can’t hear anyone. We’re in the clear. Why don’t we step into the privacy of Bennington’s library, and you can tell me what old Washington and his friends are up to. Is it true this entire rebellion began in a Boston tavern?”
Jamie swallowed a groan. Those words revealed far more than Highbury could possibly realize. If he knew anything of value about the Revolution, he never would have asked such a foolish question. Nor would he be so flippant about it.
“Listen, Highbury.” Jamie stood to his full height, head and shoulders above the other man, and leaned toward him like the sea captain he was. The shorter man blinked and his jaw went slack, just the effect Jamie had hoped for. “For you this is a game. But I could be accused of treason merely for meeting privately with a Whig. Surely you realize, as Lord Bennington’s guest, I will defer to him in all things. Now, I don’t have anything against you, lad, but if you have any decency, leave me alone so I can rest.” For further effect, he once again put his hand on the back of his head.
“I—I say, Templeton, easy on.” Highbury’s shoulders slumped. “I’m merely looking for diversion.” He waved in a dismissive gesture. “You cannot imagine how boring life can be when one is on the outs with the cream of society.”
Comprehension swept through Jamie. He’d almost trusted this man. This silly, pampered pup. He clamped one hand on Highbury’s shoulder harder than he needed to, and was rewarded when panic swept over the man’s youthful face. “But look around, lad. You are right here among that cream of society tonight. Why are you wasting time with me when fifty eligible young ladies are no doubt awaiting your attention upstairs?”
Highbury shrugged. “I suppose.” He brightened. “Yes, that’s just the thing. I believe the minuet is up next, and I would loathe to miss it. You see, Miss Martin actually promised to dance with me, and she would never speak to me again if I stood her up.”
Jamie gave his shoulder a hearty shove. “By all means, go. You must not keep Miss Martin waiting.”
Grinning broadly, Highbury dashed toward the stairs and ran up them two at a time. Jamie waited until certain the young pup was gone for good, then ducked into the library, praying no one else would accost him.
The dark, quiet room was cool, with just a hint of Bennington’s favorite tobacco in the air. Outside the velvet-draped windows, torches lit the street so guests could make their way to the door. Jamie could see drivers tending their carriages and footmen standing by to assist latecomers. At any time, one of them might peer in the window. In the torchlight, Jamie saw his own shadow flicker on one wall, but when he moved to Bennington’s desk, darkness
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