late.
She wished they didn’t have to fight, neither the British nor the colonists. She wished she didn’t have to choose a side.
Her parents entered the door to her chamber, and she took a deep breath. It was time to attend the dinner.
Father escorted the Caswell women down to the great hall. Their uniformed guests were waiting to sit at the two long tables provided to accommodate all of them. A hundred pale-green candles glowed, and the sweet fragrance of the myrtle-berry wax seemed to mask the stench of the men who hadn’t bathed.
Viney served them wild duck soaked in wine, slices of salted ham, a platter of sweetmeats, crab from the nearby bay, cabbage with vinegar, bread pudding, and onion pie. As Lydia looked down the table, she realized some of the men were indeed handsome, as Hannah had said. Major Reed was probably the most handsome of all, but smugness enveloped his features like the gloves enveloped her hands. There was little she despised more than a man who believed his very presence to be a gift to others.
She sighed. The major’s demeanor was so very unlike Nathan’s, but then again, the pride of her previous guest had probably drowned in the river. Perhaps Major Reed had yet the opportunity to experience the death of his pride.
Breathing deeply, Lydia lifted her silver spoon and took a bite of some currants mixed in with the bread pudding. The men on both sides of her reveled in small talk with her family, but her mind wasn’t on London or even on the siege in Richmond.
Her heart ached as she pressed her fork into a piece of soft bread. If only there wasn’t a war. She could have invited Nathan to dinner along with the rest of their guests.
“Did you have any prisoners on your ships?” Hannah asked.
Lydia’s fork clattered once against her plate before she retrieved it. She didn’t dare look up, but she listened intently.
“We took twelve prisoners back in Newport News. And one traitor.” Lydia turned toward the officer on her left. He was a slight man with a prominent nose and greasy hair that looked as if it had been dyed black. His fork and mouth were both stuffed full of meat, but thankfully, he smelled like lye soap.
She straightened her posture, trying to exude a dignified deportment as she cut a piece of ham with her knife and fork. Mother liked tosay that the best way to encourage etiquette in others was to demonstrate the proper graces.
Lydia balanced the fork in her fingers as her neighbor shoved his fork into his mouth and filled his fork again. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about grace as he spoke before he swallowed in a most undignified manner. “Not all of them made it to Richmond, though.”
The major nodded. “The traitor fell overboard before we arrived.”
“How unfortunate,” Mother said.
“I am certain his demise was immediate.”
One of the soldiers lifted his glass. “One less rebel.”
“Hear, hear.”
Lydia shivered. Nathan might be a rebel, but he also had treated her and Prudence with respect and gratitude for all they had done. “What will happen to your prisoners?”
“No one ever leaves a prison ship alive,” Major Reed replied.
“Did you have to fight in Richmond?” Father prodded.
He nodded. “More than a thousand of us marched on the capital.”
Another man laughed. “The Yankees all fled, so we burned the town.”
Lydia gasped. If only Nathan hadn’t been injured, he might have reached Richmond in time to prepare their defenses.
Major Reed turned toward her. “We didn’t want to burn it, but Governor Jefferson refused to hand over their supplies.”
She mustered a smile. She was supposed to rejoice that the Yankees in Richmond had been defeated.
Mother focused her gaze on the major. “It is unfortunate we cannot host your wives for dinner.”
The major glanced over at her in surprise. He would have to get used to her mother’s art of directing conversation away from conflict.
Her neighbor lifted his fork,
She wished they didn’t have to fight, neither the British nor the colonists. She wished she didn’t have to choose a side.
Her parents entered the door to her chamber, and she took a deep breath. It was time to attend the dinner.
Father escorted the Caswell women down to the great hall. Their uniformed guests were waiting to sit at the two long tables provided to accommodate all of them. A hundred pale-green candles glowed, and the sweet fragrance of the myrtle-berry wax seemed to mask the stench of the men who hadn’t bathed.
Viney served them wild duck soaked in wine, slices of salted ham, a platter of sweetmeats, crab from the nearby bay, cabbage with vinegar, bread pudding, and onion pie. As Lydia looked down the table, she realized some of the men were indeed handsome, as Hannah had said. Major Reed was probably the most handsome of all, but smugness enveloped his features like the gloves enveloped her hands. There was little she despised more than a man who believed his very presence to be a gift to others.
She sighed. The major’s demeanor was so very unlike Nathan’s, but then again, the pride of her previous guest had probably drowned in the river. Perhaps Major Reed had yet the opportunity to experience the death of his pride.
Breathing deeply, Lydia lifted her silver spoon and took a bite of some currants mixed in with the bread pudding. The men on both sides of her reveled in small talk with her family, but her mind wasn’t on London or even on the siege in Richmond.
Her heart ached as she pressed her fork into a piece of soft bread. If only there wasn’t a war. She could have invited Nathan to dinner along with the rest of their guests.
“Did you have any prisoners on your ships?” Hannah asked.
Lydia’s fork clattered once against her plate before she retrieved it. She didn’t dare look up, but she listened intently.
“We took twelve prisoners back in Newport News. And one traitor.” Lydia turned toward the officer on her left. He was a slight man with a prominent nose and greasy hair that looked as if it had been dyed black. His fork and mouth were both stuffed full of meat, but thankfully, he smelled like lye soap.
She straightened her posture, trying to exude a dignified deportment as she cut a piece of ham with her knife and fork. Mother liked tosay that the best way to encourage etiquette in others was to demonstrate the proper graces.
Lydia balanced the fork in her fingers as her neighbor shoved his fork into his mouth and filled his fork again. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about grace as he spoke before he swallowed in a most undignified manner. “Not all of them made it to Richmond, though.”
The major nodded. “The traitor fell overboard before we arrived.”
“How unfortunate,” Mother said.
“I am certain his demise was immediate.”
One of the soldiers lifted his glass. “One less rebel.”
“Hear, hear.”
Lydia shivered. Nathan might be a rebel, but he also had treated her and Prudence with respect and gratitude for all they had done. “What will happen to your prisoners?”
“No one ever leaves a prison ship alive,” Major Reed replied.
“Did you have to fight in Richmond?” Father prodded.
He nodded. “More than a thousand of us marched on the capital.”
Another man laughed. “The Yankees all fled, so we burned the town.”
Lydia gasped. If only Nathan hadn’t been injured, he might have reached Richmond in time to prepare their defenses.
Major Reed turned toward her. “We didn’t want to burn it, but Governor Jefferson refused to hand over their supplies.”
She mustered a smile. She was supposed to rejoice that the Yankees in Richmond had been defeated.
Mother focused her gaze on the major. “It is unfortunate we cannot host your wives for dinner.”
The major glanced over at her in surprise. He would have to get used to her mother’s art of directing conversation away from conflict.
Her neighbor lifted his fork,
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