The Fall of York Ch. 25-39

Millie obligingly helped him rise from the chair and then they slowly and silently made their way upstairs.

"So...I suppose you are cross with me, Lawrence?" asked Abigail in a small voice, once the other two were out of earshot.

His shoulders drooped and then he went over to her and pulled her to him.

"No. I suppose I'm angry with myself for foolish reasons. I feel I should be protecting you and York better somehow. The Americans reign here and our neighbours' homes are being plundered. I'm a captain in the British army, damn it! I feel so helpless!"

Abigail raised her face to stare up at his. He looked so frustrated.

"Your time for action will come, my dear. Be patient. You don't have to prove your bravery or military prowess to me. I know exactly what kind of man you are. Who rushed off to warn the militia that the fort was about to explode? Who was beaten by some American soldiers before he could surrender to another officer with dignity? Who then rescued an enemy soldier from drowning?"

"There are some who would think me very foolish for all that has gone on here..."

"Piss on them!" she said, shocking her husband. "I don't care one whit for anybody that thinks poorly of those I care about. You do your duty without complaint and when you spare one of God's creatures through the goodness in your heart I love you all the more."

His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her a little closer.

"We cannot make too much noise, Lawrence. They'll hear us," she cautioned, although she put her hands upon his chest.

"They won't hear kissing," and he bent down and put his lips on hers.

She smiled as they kissed, happy to see his passion for her had not waned. Her own hands went up to the back of his head, where her fingers played with his hair. After several seconds, they parted and caught their breath.

"This is where I felt I've been most negligent in my duties, Abigail."

"We both know the reason for that," she whispered as she nodded to the ceiling.

He bent his head down to hers again. This time she hummed as she felt a familiar stirring in herself that called out for more intimate contact with her beloved. He could feel his own pulse quickening. When they both felt the almost irresistible urge for far more than kissing they parted again.

"We had best stop here, my love," he said, taking a deep breath.

Abigail reached down and put her hand on his pants. "Neither of us wants this to stop, but I agree that this is hardly the time or the place. I fear one of these days we won't care about propriety and we will cause such a scandal."

"I will hold my head up high, Abigail."

"You're such a tease!" They both chuckled as they joined hands and headed for the stairs.

"I wonder if it's safe to check in on Jacob?" he asked in a light tone.

"Safe?" she wondered aloud. "What do you mean by...oh!" She slapped her husband on his shoulder. "Millie would never consent to that unless marriage was assured, Lawrence. And Jacob is such an honourable young man that I think he would be too afraid of offending us."

"He's a young man and she's a young woman and there is clearly an attraction, Abigail. Things happen."

That gave Abigail something to think about as she and her husband went to bed.

30

Millie used the last of her strength to help Jacob ease himself on to his bed.

"Thank you, Millie. I think Mr. and Mrs. Orr had things to discuss."

"I don't understand."

"The Captain and I feel useless and imprisoned in this house. There is more we could be doing, but I'm injured and he must stay out of sight."

"You're a prisoner, Jacob," she reminded him.

He laughed, bringing a smile to her face. "I'd forgotten!"

"You won't always be a prisoner here, Jacob."

"That's true." Jacob moved the blankets down to the foot of the bed.

"I suppose you're eager to go back home."

"Yes, I miss everyone there." He squeezed and pulled his pillows, trying to increase their volume.

"Captain Orr will likely grant you your freedom once Mrs. Orr says you're able to leave."

"Yes, I can't see him keeping me here longer than necessary and I don't think he wants to put me in some prison." Jacob put down his pillows and stared at the dark-haired maid. He wondered why she was asking these questions.

Millie's hands fidgeted as she stood by his bed, and she would not look at his face.

"Your home is very far from here, isn't it?"

"I'd never thought to travel this far from home. What are you getting at, Millie?"

"Nothing!"

His brow furrowed as he recollected their conversation. At last, some piece fell into place and he felt that he knew why Millie was conducting this interview.

"It's not too far to travel, once the war is over," he suggested.

She turned to face him for the first time since coming to this room. As he slowly reached out and took one of her hands in his, Millie watched him with a look of fear and wonder. "There is one thing that would make a man travel all that distance many times over, Millie."

"What...what would that be, Jacob?" she asked in a whisper as her eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

"The chance to see you again."

Millie took a deep breath. Then she smiled, then frowned and then allowed her lips to form a small smile again. "I would like that, Jacob."

"I would very much like to kiss you, Millie, but I can't stand on my own." The words came out before he could stop them. Then he was glad it had been said and he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of his soul.

Millie abruptly pulled her hand from his. "I couldn't! It's not proper! I wouldn't want to upset Mrs. Orr." She looked to the bedroom door and saw candlelight flickering in the hallway beyond.

"You'd best go to your room before the Orrs check on me," he said, showing no signs of anger at being denied by her.

"Yes. Good night, Jacob." She watched as he settled himself in bed and then she blew out the candle, plunging the room into a discrete darkness. She felt a strong urge to bend over him and taste his lips, but fought it down.

Instead, she slowly walked to the doorway.

"Good night, Millie."

The maid looked back over her shoulder at the dark form stretched out on the bed. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts of kissing him and of being held by him. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. Then she realized that he had probably seen that and her cheeks warmed. She stepped quickly, walking into the doorframe on her way out of the room.

"Ouch!" She massaged her arm and shoulder as she wondered what had made her so clumsy.

"Are you all right, Millie?" asked Jacob, concern clearly evident in his voice.

"Yes. I was just a little clumsy. Thank you." For caring, she added in her head. She chewed her lip as she went into her own room.

Jacob took a long while to go to sleep. He knew the girl was as attracted to him as he was to her, but she kept resisting temptation. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if their different nationalities were keeping her from speaking her mind. His eyes closed and he dreamed about coming back to York, years hence, and finding Millie married to a British soldier.

31

Late in the morning Abigail brushed the garden dirt from her skirt and then went to the front door and opened it just enough to poke her head in.

"Lawrence, Jacob's friend Zeke has returned and he seems excited about something," she whispered to the two men playing chess in the den.

Captain Orr glanced at the American and then hurriedly put the chess set away. "I'll go upstairs."

"I'll take my time bringing him in to the house. He's chatting with Millie right now."

Jacob felt a momentary envy for his comrade. What were the two of them talking about while I'm imprisoned in here, he wondered. Abigail gave him a smile and then went back outside, closing the door against the multitude of spring insects trying to make their way indoors. Oddly, Jacob had found the mistress of the house had a perverse desire to keep flies and their ilk from entering the house. Mrs. Orr didn't seem to accept the common wisdom that flies were a sign of a healthy home.

"Jacob?" He turned to face the older man and was surprised to see his captor holding out his hand. The soldier slowly grasped the Captain's hand and shook it. "I'm glad I saved you, sir. You act like a gentleman and we've been happy to see you recover. You're free to go."

"Uhm, thanks, sir," said Jacob, not expecting things to happen as quickly as they had. "I do hope to come back some day, sir."

"Ah, Millie. Well, you'll be welcomed and treated to the same courtesy you have already received here. Just wait until this war is over, or you might be shot for being a spy."

With that said, Lawrence went up the stairs to conceal himself from casual view.

Jacob felt some mixed feelings about returning to the United States. Then he realized that his mixed feelings were really the result of his having to leave the company of the dark-haired, dark-eyed Millie. Would he ever see her again? He wanted to, but the distance made it nearly impossible. And what would become of her while the war raged on? She was a pretty girl and it was pure luck that he had met her before she had any suitors.

He heard Abigail talking idly to Zeke a second or two before the two women ushered his friend in.

"Jacob! So you are feeling better, as Mrs. Orr and her maid claim?" his friend asked while walking forward to examine the injured soldier.

"I'm feeling better than I did, but I'm not completely whole yet. How are you? Have the officers been keeping you busy?"

Zeke set his musket down and sat near Jacob. "Oh, you wouldn't believe the ruckus that's been raised. The General is furious. He found out about the..." Zeke glanced guiltily at Abigail, "he found out about the looting and he ordered everyone back to the ships. We're going back across Lake Ontario, probably to attack Fort George. They're giving everyone until tomorrow to board the ships and then they plan to sail."

"Millie, fetch something cool to drink and some food for our guest. He may be an American, but he's Jacob's friend and we'll show him our hospitality," instructed Abigail as she took a seat.

Millie curtsied and left the room, and the eyes of both men followed her as she went.

"Ahem!"

Jacob and Zeke each suddenly realized they had been staring and they apologized to Mrs. Orr for their discourtesy.

"So, Jacob, I've come to fetch you to the ship. I had to sneak away and I couldn't bring anyone else to help me, but since you're feeling better we should manage fine," said Zeke.

"Oh, yes. The two of you should be able to manage fine. He's able to get up and down the stairs with only Millie's help now. Make sure you have a doctor examine you as soon as you're back with your countrymen, Jacob," added Abigail.

"So, I'm really going home?" he asked looking from Abigail to Zeke.

There was a clatter in the hallway just outside the room and they all turned to see Millie walk slowly into the room. Jacob thought she looked pale, but the expression on her face was impossible to read.

Millie set the platter down and then poured out three drinks of cider. She passed the first one to her mistress and then the second she gave to Zeke. She held out the third cup to Jacob, who took it slowly from her while his fingers lingered against hers.

Millie then offered the platter of cheese and bread around. Then she stood, fidgeting from foot to foot.

"Millie, you look a little pale. Why don't you have a seat? You'll want to have a chance to say goodbye to our guest, won't you?" asked Abigail. She watched her maid very carefully for a couple of seconds, wondering how to solve this predicament. Maybe she could keep the lines of communication going through letters, she thought.

"Thanks, Mrs. Orr. This is much better than what we've been fed."

"You're welcome, Zeke. We make do with the little we've been left."

"Ah," and Zeke looked embarrassed.

"You need not be embarrassed, young man. You stood up to keep my home from being plundered."

"Thanks, ma'am," he replied, with a great deal of relief.

Abigail turned to the injured soldier. "Jacob, when you're back at home, is there someone there who can read and write?"

"Why, I suppose so, ma'am. That is, the preacher can and I've seen my Uncle Joshua and Aunt Peg read from the scriptures. Why do you ask?"

"Well...," Abigail thought quickly, "you can write to us when you get home and let us know you're safe." And then I can write out a response for Millie and the two of you can begin a correspondence, she thought.

"Jacob, we'd better get going. I don't want an officer to think I've run off," urged Zeke.

The injured American sighed and then Abigail caught a quickly concealed grin. "Give me a hand getting up, Zeke."

His friend reached under his arm and lifted as Jacob stiffly rose to his feet with a grunt. Millie looked up in concern.

"Are you feeling all right, Jacob?" asked Abigail, feigning worry.

"I don't know, ma'am. I've got sharp pains running up and down my back and my legs feel very stiff."

Abigail was at his side in a second. "Ease him down, Zeke," she ordered. Once Jacob was sitting again, she put her palm on his forehead and then felt his hands. The maid watched her mistress examine Jacob with concern etched on her face.

"I'm afraid he's had a bit of a set-back. I don't think it would be wise to move him too far for a couple of days, Zeke." Abigail struggled to keep a straight face when she saw Jacob greet her pronouncement with a look of relief.

"But...I can't leave him here, ma'am, not with the enem..." began Zeke.

"Don't you worry, young man. We'll take good care of him. Just see how Millie is fretting over him." To Abigail's consternation, Zeke was scrutinizing Millie and Jacob very closely.

"I see," he said, at last.

I'll bet you do, thought Abigail.

"I'll get word to your folks, somehow." He offered his hand to Jacob, who was no longer grimacing in pain. "Good luck, Jacob."

"Good luck to you too, Zeke. Don't worry; Millie and Mrs. Orr will take good care of me."

"Ma'am. Miss." Then Zeke collected his musket and left.

"Oh, thank God! I thought he would never leave!" muttered Millie. "I'll go fetch Captain Orr so we can get you to bed for more rest, Jacob."

Jacob opened his mouth to say something, but Abigail spoke first. "Never mind that, Millie. I'm sure Jacob just needs to relax in that chair for an hour or two and then you can take him up to his room later."

Millie turned on her mistress, surprising Abigail with a severe look.

"Young lady, have I ever been wrong before about this sort of thing?" asked Abigail in a forceful voice, with a single eyebrow raised. "You would do well to think, before you say something you will regret for a long time."

"Millie, I'll be all right," said Jacob quietly.

The maid's shoulders dropped and her anger seemed to disappear.

"Now go get your chores done and inform my husband that our guest has left, please."

Millie curtsied and left the room.

"Shakespeare would've cast you out of the Globe in a second, young man."

"What?" asked a confused Jacob.

"I mean that you're a terrible liar, sir. The only one who was fooled by your act was the one person you least wanted to."

32

Millie was busy for the remainder of the day, between her chores and fretting over Jacob. Despite his assurances she absolutely refused to believe he was as well as he claimed. The American did not mind the attention, though.

Abigail kept herself busy examining her stores and figuring out how much she could share with those citizens of York who had been victims of American thievery. It took no prescient ability to know that part of tomorrow's sermon by Reverend Strachan was to be about sharing with neighbours that had suffered losses.

Abigail also knew that Lawrence's days in the military were numbered. This war would not go on forever and York needed men like her husband to help rebuild and reorganize. The minister had gone from a minor, if vocal, power in town to THE power in town. Rumours abounded that he had shamed the American General into withdrawing from York by accusing him publicly of allowing the looting to go unpunished. As a good wife she would do her Christian duty and if it meant favour for her husband, all the better.

Lawrence remained by a window upstairs, taking note of every movement of the Americans as they prepared to leave. Every detail was penned down to be passed to his superiors, when he reported in Kingston. While he observed, his thoughts lingered on the fact that he would be leaving Abigail for an unknown amount of time. He might be killed in battle. Where would that leave her?

Her father and sister remained in their home near Queenston and she could always return there if she had to. He had heard from his friend William just after Christmas. Barbara and he were developing an attachment and the Orrs both heartily approved. He had known William since they had joined the 49th and he knew Abigail's sister, better than he should.

What frustrated Lawrence most now was that they had received no word from his family. He had sent two letters to his father, one before and then one after his wedding to Abigail. After five months there had still been no word. He had expected his father and two elder brothers to have hastily sent their blessings to him and his bride; Lawrence was positive that such a letter should have arrived by this time.

He sighed, remembering that winter storms in the Atlantic could easily destroy ships. The response from Lord Orr and Lawrence's brothers could easily have been lost forever. If such a letter was in Abigail's hands then she might have some financial support from his family, should something happen to him.

Lawrence kept his concerns to himself at dinner. When he and Abigail climbed into bed that night, they discussed many things as they lay in each other's arms, but not once did he mention his family.

33

Even though the American ships still sat in the harbour when the sun rose, Lawrence decided to dress in his uniform and attend church services with his wife and maid. Abigail suggested that discretion might be in order as there were still some of the enemy prowling the town and it would be quite a feat to capture a British Captain. Lawrence stood firm, despite the logic of her argument.

Walking home from the service later, Abigail noted that some of the women she usually exchanged greetings with had turned their faces away from her. She wondered if the presence of an American soldier in their home had been misinterpreted.

"That was a very powerful sermon today. The Reverend seems to have come in to his own," noted Lawrence.

Millie walked along quietly, also noting that some women seem disinclined to favour her mistress with the normal after-church 'good-day'.

"He did go on for quite a bit about loyalty to the crown and remembering who the enemy is. I hope he wasn't referring to us in some oblique manner." She waved to Mrs. Croyden and her family, who waved back amiably. She recalled that the Croydens had always been quite friendly towards her and Lawrence, especially after they had learned he fought beside the heroic Brock.

Lawrence smiled knowingly. "I don't think Reverend Strachan takes anything but a direct approach at his target, my dear."

"I'll follow my husband's lead when it comes to strategy. But, his comment about 'punishing those who have betrayed us' seemed rather ominous. Can he really mean for the magistrate to imprison everyone who colluded with the Americans?"

"Yes. And I have to admit I am in favour of the idea. Men should know where their loyalties lie and show them proudly. The Major General had spoken openly about this on his few visits to York before his death."