Read Online The Turning of Anne Merrick by Christine Blevins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Blevins
Ads: Link
dealing with his Indians all morning long.” Fanny hiccupped loud, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Pardon me! Too much rich food, I fear…”
“Too much champagne, Mrs. Loescher,” came the Baroness’s forthright response from behind the curtain of skirts.
“A great bulk of our Indian allies have deserted today over the Jane MacCrae affair,” Lucy said. “Mr. Lennox is quite concerned.”
“I said ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ when I heard they left. Thieving and drinking rum is all Indians are ever good for.” Fanny swayed in such an ever-growing orbit, she clutched Anne by the arm to keep from pitching forward. “But Johnny is terribly upset. He says we’ll be needing every fighting man—redskin or white—to break the rebels’ backs.”
“It is plain to see why the General is troubled,” Anne said, linking elbows with Fanny, “what with the rebels wreaking all manner of havoc, and his Indians gone wild. They say supplies are dwindling fast and there will be a move to half rations.”
The Baroness stepped forward, and Anne stepped back to take her turn behind the curtain. Collecting her skirts into a bunch on her lap, she kept an ear on the conversation.
“Never fear, Mrs. Merrick; shortages will be temporary,” the Baroness said, fanning open her skirts. “My husband tells me Colonel Baum will soon lead his regiment on a major foraging expedition. He is to seize rebel stores at a place called Bennington—provender, horses, and wagons—all is to be had there in great quantity.”
“Colonel Baum.” Fanny giggled, bumping Lucy with her hip. “He’s a big, handsome fellow—”
Flustered, Lucy said, “Colonel Baum seems a most serious and disciplined commander, but I wonder, will one German regiment serve the purpose?”
The Baroness nodded. “Most certainly. Baum’s dragoons are ranked among our finest warriors, and General Burgoyne is also assured that a good number of countryside Loyalists will also rise up and join the effort.”
Anne was amazed. The simple business of “plucking a rose”provided more valuable information than any of the time she spent sitting right beside General Burgoyne at the dinner table. As the feminine contingent trooped back to the table, Anne began to compose in her head the message she would send to Jack, eager to get back to her tent and writing materials.
But the evening was far from over. Once the women resumed their seats, the waiters swooped in with the dessert course—gooseberry tartlets served with dollops of sweet cream surrounded by a colorful array of comfits and lozenges.
As the host, General Burgoyne initiated the evening’s entertainment with a reading of a rather drab poem he had penned himself. Lucy and Gordon Lennox followed his lackluster recitation with a harmonic version of “Scarborough Fair” sung
a capella
. With a little urging from her husband, and using the viola as accompaniment, the Baroness sang an Italian aria in an angelic soprano.
“Brava!”
General von Riedesel led, with fervor, the enthusiastic applause for his wife.
Burgoyne tapped his glass for attention. “I have it on good authority that General Fraser has prepared a bit of theater for us—”
Simon Fraser stood, drew his shoulders square, and cleared his throat. “From
Henry V
, by William Shakespeare:
If we are mark’d to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour…
Anne had never been to a real theater, but her family spent many an evening reading aloud the works of Shakespeare, which were prime among the volumes in her father’s library.
Henry V
had never been among her favorite plays, as she preferred the comedies, but Simon Fraser’s impassioned delivery combined with his slight Scottish burr lent an air of romance and dash to his performance.
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered—
Wefew, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he
“Too much champagne, Mrs. Loescher,” came the Baroness’s forthright response from behind the curtain of skirts.
“A great bulk of our Indian allies have deserted today over the Jane MacCrae affair,” Lucy said. “Mr. Lennox is quite concerned.”
“I said ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ when I heard they left. Thieving and drinking rum is all Indians are ever good for.” Fanny swayed in such an ever-growing orbit, she clutched Anne by the arm to keep from pitching forward. “But Johnny is terribly upset. He says we’ll be needing every fighting man—redskin or white—to break the rebels’ backs.”
“It is plain to see why the General is troubled,” Anne said, linking elbows with Fanny, “what with the rebels wreaking all manner of havoc, and his Indians gone wild. They say supplies are dwindling fast and there will be a move to half rations.”
The Baroness stepped forward, and Anne stepped back to take her turn behind the curtain. Collecting her skirts into a bunch on her lap, she kept an ear on the conversation.
“Never fear, Mrs. Merrick; shortages will be temporary,” the Baroness said, fanning open her skirts. “My husband tells me Colonel Baum will soon lead his regiment on a major foraging expedition. He is to seize rebel stores at a place called Bennington—provender, horses, and wagons—all is to be had there in great quantity.”
“Colonel Baum.” Fanny giggled, bumping Lucy with her hip. “He’s a big, handsome fellow—”
Flustered, Lucy said, “Colonel Baum seems a most serious and disciplined commander, but I wonder, will one German regiment serve the purpose?”
The Baroness nodded. “Most certainly. Baum’s dragoons are ranked among our finest warriors, and General Burgoyne is also assured that a good number of countryside Loyalists will also rise up and join the effort.”
Anne was amazed. The simple business of “plucking a rose”provided more valuable information than any of the time she spent sitting right beside General Burgoyne at the dinner table. As the feminine contingent trooped back to the table, Anne began to compose in her head the message she would send to Jack, eager to get back to her tent and writing materials.
But the evening was far from over. Once the women resumed their seats, the waiters swooped in with the dessert course—gooseberry tartlets served with dollops of sweet cream surrounded by a colorful array of comfits and lozenges.
As the host, General Burgoyne initiated the evening’s entertainment with a reading of a rather drab poem he had penned himself. Lucy and Gordon Lennox followed his lackluster recitation with a harmonic version of “Scarborough Fair” sung
a capella
. With a little urging from her husband, and using the viola as accompaniment, the Baroness sang an Italian aria in an angelic soprano.
“Brava!”
General von Riedesel led, with fervor, the enthusiastic applause for his wife.
Burgoyne tapped his glass for attention. “I have it on good authority that General Fraser has prepared a bit of theater for us—”
Simon Fraser stood, drew his shoulders square, and cleared his throat. “From
Henry V
, by William Shakespeare:
If we are mark’d to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour…
Anne had never been to a real theater, but her family spent many an evening reading aloud the works of Shakespeare, which were prime among the volumes in her father’s library.
Henry V
had never been among her favorite plays, as she preferred the comedies, but Simon Fraser’s impassioned delivery combined with his slight Scottish burr lent an air of romance and dash to his performance.
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered—
Wefew, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he
Similar Books
