the edge, my temper flared, but I bit my tongue in the nick of time, forcing back a tirade of angry words. Obviously it was going to take a little more effort to get past his stony demeanor. “I do hope you find Pennsylvania to your liking,” I said. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to London, but Philadelphia has grown remarkably since I was a little girl.”
He looked bored with my feeble attempts at conversation. “You’re right, it’s nothing to London. But for the Colonies, I’m sure it will do.”
My pride burned from his words, and if there hadn’t been so much at stake, I would have stopped the carriage that instant and ordered him from my sight. Instead, I took a deep breath and put on the pretense of a smile. “Did you have a nice voyage on The Berkshire ?” I asked, giving it another try.
This got his attention, bringing a dark shadow to his face before it disappeared behind his mask of casual indifference. “Eight weeks of being treated like an animal, subsisting on biscuits and salted meat does not qualify as a nice voyage.”
“Oh,” I said, not expecting such an answer. “I had no idea.”
Henry stretched out his long legs, filling much of the space between us, and then closed his eyes. Three times I had tried to make peace, only to be curtailed with each attempt. I sighed, defeated. “If you would like to post a letter to your father letting him know you’ve arrived safely, I’m sure we could get it to Captain Harlow before he departs for England.” I had meant to make the offer yesterday, but it had slipped my mind.
Henry opened his eyes and stared at me. “Thank you,” he said with more warmth than I expected. “Yes, I would like that very much.” He closed his eyes again, and I stayed quiet to let him sleep.
Judging by how long we had traveled, I guessed we would arrive at our lodgings within five hours. Henry’s breathing slowed and I watched him openly while he slept, marveling at the events of the past twenty-four hours. Over the course of his transition from an indentured servant to my pretend husband, I had witnessed the extremes of his personality—both the cold indifference and the hot-blooded anger. Neither was to my liking, and I hoped to find substantial ground in between.
The sun grew warmer, and with the gentle rocking of the carriage, I found myself being lulled into sleep as well. After such a stressful morning, I welcomed the temporary oblivion.
I don’t know how long I slept before the carriage came to a stop and my eyes fluttered open. Henry sat alert, his body tense with anticipation.
“Henry,” Ben called from the driver’s box. “Would you mind joining me for a minute?”
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Henry frowned and stepped from the carriage.
Through the wall behind the driver’s box, I heard Ben rummage around the compartment below his seat. He then swung down to the ground where he and Henry spoke in hushed tones. A mechanical problem would not have warranted so much secrecy, making me fear for more serious troubles. The Lenape Indians weren’t known to attack travelers, which made bandits and highwaymen the sole aggressors on these long stretches of road that passed through thick, unadulterated forests.
Irritated by the suspense, I stuck my head out the door to get some answers. Henry saw me and hurried back with a sword in his right hand and a pistol tucked into the front of his breeches. He came very close, effectively blocking me from going any farther. Leaning forward, he spoke in a low voice. “There’s a tree lying across the road up ahead. Ben thinks it was purposefully cut down to block the carriage. We’re going to walk the horses for a space to see what happens.”
“Is it a trap?” I asked, afraid my worst suspicions were about to be confirmed.
“It looks likely. You stay here and keep your head down.” He helped me back into the carriage and shut the door.
The carriage swayed as Ben
He looked bored with my feeble attempts at conversation. “You’re right, it’s nothing to London. But for the Colonies, I’m sure it will do.”
My pride burned from his words, and if there hadn’t been so much at stake, I would have stopped the carriage that instant and ordered him from my sight. Instead, I took a deep breath and put on the pretense of a smile. “Did you have a nice voyage on The Berkshire ?” I asked, giving it another try.
This got his attention, bringing a dark shadow to his face before it disappeared behind his mask of casual indifference. “Eight weeks of being treated like an animal, subsisting on biscuits and salted meat does not qualify as a nice voyage.”
“Oh,” I said, not expecting such an answer. “I had no idea.”
Henry stretched out his long legs, filling much of the space between us, and then closed his eyes. Three times I had tried to make peace, only to be curtailed with each attempt. I sighed, defeated. “If you would like to post a letter to your father letting him know you’ve arrived safely, I’m sure we could get it to Captain Harlow before he departs for England.” I had meant to make the offer yesterday, but it had slipped my mind.
Henry opened his eyes and stared at me. “Thank you,” he said with more warmth than I expected. “Yes, I would like that very much.” He closed his eyes again, and I stayed quiet to let him sleep.
Judging by how long we had traveled, I guessed we would arrive at our lodgings within five hours. Henry’s breathing slowed and I watched him openly while he slept, marveling at the events of the past twenty-four hours. Over the course of his transition from an indentured servant to my pretend husband, I had witnessed the extremes of his personality—both the cold indifference and the hot-blooded anger. Neither was to my liking, and I hoped to find substantial ground in between.
The sun grew warmer, and with the gentle rocking of the carriage, I found myself being lulled into sleep as well. After such a stressful morning, I welcomed the temporary oblivion.
I don’t know how long I slept before the carriage came to a stop and my eyes fluttered open. Henry sat alert, his body tense with anticipation.
“Henry,” Ben called from the driver’s box. “Would you mind joining me for a minute?”
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Henry frowned and stepped from the carriage.
Through the wall behind the driver’s box, I heard Ben rummage around the compartment below his seat. He then swung down to the ground where he and Henry spoke in hushed tones. A mechanical problem would not have warranted so much secrecy, making me fear for more serious troubles. The Lenape Indians weren’t known to attack travelers, which made bandits and highwaymen the sole aggressors on these long stretches of road that passed through thick, unadulterated forests.
Irritated by the suspense, I stuck my head out the door to get some answers. Henry saw me and hurried back with a sword in his right hand and a pistol tucked into the front of his breeches. He came very close, effectively blocking me from going any farther. Leaning forward, he spoke in a low voice. “There’s a tree lying across the road up ahead. Ben thinks it was purposefully cut down to block the carriage. We’re going to walk the horses for a space to see what happens.”
“Is it a trap?” I asked, afraid my worst suspicions were about to be confirmed.
“It looks likely. You stay here and keep your head down.” He helped me back into the carriage and shut the door.
The carriage swayed as Ben
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