Nancy Whiskey

“No. This was not exactly a Garden of Eden before white men landed. We have merely given the native populations a common enemy.”

“Or the Canadians have,” Norton said, scanning the next letter and tossing it aside. He rose to pour them each another brandy.

“Prime Minister Pitt maintains that Britain wants peace.”

“But what do the Canadians want?” Norton asked as he paced to the window, his frock coat gracefully slapping his thighs. “Simcoe seems a very unstable fellow to me.”

“The governor of Upper Canada is afraid we’ll encroach on his territory, hence all the forts.”

“That’s what makes him dangerous.” Norton unrolled a map overtop of the letters. “There is even some talk of a secret agreement between the Canadians and Spanish now that Britain and Spain are allies again. With enough support they could split the country along the Appalachians and all the wealth of the interior would flow right down the river valley and out of American hands.”

Daniel limped over to the desk. “There may be some temptation there. All the frontiersmen want access to New Orleans, but it will take more support and organization than what I have heretofore seen.”

“So much for the British and the Spanish.”

Daniel took a swallow and felt a satisfying burn, along with a numbing of the pain in his leg. “Where do we stand with the French now that they have declared war on England again?”

“Citizen Genet is causing a stir. The Federalists want nothing to do with him and the Republicans fawn on him.”

“And you?”

Norton sat tiredly. “A reserved cordiality. He is, after all, the French ambassador, no matter how flamboyant. Besides, there is more to be learned from a man who does not regard you as an antagonist. Would you like to meet him? I should admire to know what you think of him.” Norton took up his pen with renewed energy.

“If you can arrange a casual introduction.”

“Come to dinner here tomorrow at seven o’clock,” the older man said, scratching a note to himself. “Brace yourself to be opportuned to contribute money toward their revolution, seeing as how they gave us so much support.”

Daniel laughed. “I will come. I am not easily imposed upon.”

“Too bad you are not married. Two of you will put the numbers out—your brother will be invited, too, of course. But Elise will manage something.”

“Something? Either a whey-faced chit who spends the whole evening blushing into her plate, or some spinster. I’ll find my own dinner companion, thank you.”

“Not another actress, Daniel.” Norton looked sharply at him. “You know what happened last time—”

“No, a lady. She is newly arrived from England. Do not look at me like that. I met her on the way over on the ship.”

“Of course, Daniel.”

“Well, she is a lady and will take the shine out of any of the women in this town—except Elise, of course.”

“I am saying nothing. Bring your paragon, by all means. I would be interested to meet a woman who has not washed her hands of you after knowing you for more than a few weeks.”

Daniel had been busy most of the day obtaining the latest news, while Trueblood tended to their warehouse. Daniel returned with scarcely enough time to wash and change into clean linens and breeches. Someone had laid out his clothes and brushed and pressed his swallowtail coat.

When Nancy walked down the stairs, Trueblood smiled knowingly and Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. She was dressed in a peach silk gown of the latest fashion, with an ivory underdress edged in lace. A tiny knot of silk roses was tucked between her breasts at the top of her stomacher, and her hair, a natural honey blond, was swept up high on her head, with two long ringlets hanging down in back to caress her neck.

“Are you disappointed, Daniel?” Trueblood drawled as he took the lace shawl she held and placed it carefully around her shoulders.

“No, I am quite satisfied,” Daniel said as he took possession of Nancy’s arm and conducted her from the house and down the street, forcing Trueblood to walk on the other side of her.

“I take it your expectations were that I would turn up in a stuff gown and a pair of brogues.”

“Now you are making game of me,” Daniel said. “I could wish you would smile rather than scowl at me. It makes you look fatigued.”

Nancy glared at him, since she had still to drag any real compliment from him. “As it happens, I am fatigued. Father invited home that Canadian, Dupree, and they played cards all night.”

“Are you sure it was Dupree? Did you see him?” Daniel asked, almost pulling her into the street in the path of a carriage.

“No,” Nancy said, hauling back on his arm until the way was clear, “but I have heard them talk together often enough on the ship to recognize his voice.”

“What did he have to say for himself?” Daniel asked casually.

“Try as I might, even by holding a glass to the wall, I could not make out the words”, Nancy said in mock seriousness.

Daniel had opened his mouth to resume his interrogation when Trueblood burst out laughing. “She really is making game of you now, Daniel.”

“Which would not be to my credit even if it were a challenge,” Nancy replied. “Sorry, Daniel.”

He shook his head. “Bad enough I have Trueblood carping at me. If you are to start as well…”

“But you interrogate me about the man for no reason. If you want me to spy on him—”

“No! I do not want you to have anything to do with him.” Daniel took a tighter grip on her arm.

“Well, I do not particularly like him. I keep thinking he is after father’s prize money, if he has not got it already.”

“Yes, so do I,” Daniel alibied. “That is the only reason I was concerned.”

Nancy slanted a skeptical look at Trueblood, who shrugged. Then she turned her innocent face to Daniel. “Then you think I have a right to keep an eye on Dupree— in a very subtle way, of course.”

“Dupree may be exactly what he appears,” Trueblood said, taking Nancy’s other arm and drawing her away from Daniel.

“Which is what?” Nancy demanded. “It strikes me as odd that such a rough man, one moreover who claims to be a fur trader, should be in England.”

Daniel glanced menacingly at Trueblood and dropped back to study Nancy from behind. He had suddenly lost all interest in Dupree and why the fellow had been in England. Even under the plumped-up side panniers of her polonaise gown, Nancy presented a trim figure and was.attracting a deal of attention on the street. One of Daniel’s acquaintances tipped his hat to her from horseback, getting a nod from Trueblood and a scowl from Daniel in return for his knowing grin.

Daniel envied the one curl that had slipped around her neck and was glad Nancy did not hold with the old style of powdering her hair. Nothing should take the sheen out of those curls. Though he had little interest in fashion, he was a purveyor of cloth and had bought and sold enough in England and America to realize her dress was expensive. She should stay in Philadelphia and go to the theater, not be dragged to some crude frontier settlement where there were few civilized women and the men were all dangerous. He must think of a way.

At Norton’s house, Daniel sprinted up the steps and was surprised to be greeted by Elise herself. Her flame red hair shone in the last rays of the sun and her green silk gown embraced her like a lover.

“Daniel, you have come alone after all,” she complained.

“No, Miss Riley is with me.” He reached down and firmly took Nancy’s arm, drawing her up the last few steps to stand beside him.

Elise invited Nancy in, making her feel welcome. Daniel cuffed Trueblood on the shoulder as they jostled each other in the doorway, but drew no more than a smirk from him.

“I hope we are not to disappoint you,” Elise said, “for Genet is not here yet and I will not hold dinner for him. Come, have some of your brandy.”