It's Hard To Refuse You
Chapter One
It was a cold day at the end of December, 1775 and Benjamin Davidson was hurrying to wash and change his clothes, so that he would be in time for dinner at the Merriman's good table. It would not do to appear disheveled. Martha Merriman had been like a mother to him since he had come to stay, and being accepted into the Merriman family as he had made him determined to be as helpful as possible. They treated him more like a son than a servant and he was happy working as an apprentice for Mr. Merriman. He would have been happier in the Continental Army, but since Mr. Merriman was gone so much, working for the Commissary, also an important part of the war effort, Ben had become resigned to continuing to run the Merriman's store in Williamsburg, at least for a time. It would have no been right to desert Mr. Merriman when he had so much else to do. At least Mr. Fitchett had decided to join the Commissary as well, and was helping Mr. Merriman with that work, leaving Marcus to help Ben at the store.
That meant that stout and gossipy Mrs. Fitchett was now using the store as a clearing house for the latest news of the war, which made it the second most popular place in town to get news, after Christiana Cambell's tavern, but Ben could live with that.
Ben heard voices downstairs, and recognized them. He knew those voices well, and knew what was going on. Young Felicity Merriman was visiting the horses in the stable below his quarters, as she so often did, and this time she was accompanied by her younger sister, Nan.
"So Annabelle is not going to marry Lord Lacey?" Nan asked, in a curious voice.
"No," Felicity answered. "The engagement was broken by mutual consent, which is lucky for old Bananabelle. Otherwise she would have been put down as a bolter and her prospects would have been ruined. Mrs. Deare will be disappointed not to get the chance to be midwife to a Lord and Lady. She may be a patriot, but it still would have been a feather in her cap. Lord Harry has decided however, that he does not want to wed Annabelle anymore than she wishes to wed him, at least not at this time."
"I suppose now that she will go back to following Ben about," Nan sighed.
At the sound of his name, Ben started. He was not a total fool. He had known for some time that Annabelle Cole was sweet on him, but while he thought her a rather pretty girl, he did not think their temperaments would suit at all. She was too flighty and snobbish. He still had to finish his apprenticeship and establish himself in business, and he had been avoiding Annabelle whenever possible. Besides, he did not think war time was a good time to be thinking of marriage. He was certainly old enough to begin consider courting, and many of his friends had already begun, but he no intention of considering Annabelle Cole at all.
"She already has," Felicity said gloomily. "Elizabeth and I have done all we can to disabuse her of the notion, but she is very stubborn."
So that was what that whole episode about bright eyes and teeth had been about! Ben smothered a laugh. Leave it to two merry little tricksters like Felicity and Elizabeth to try to take the wind out of Miss Cole's sails.
His laugh died quickly though, when Nan said, "Why don't YOU marry Ben, Felicity? Then we could keep him in our family always. You get along with him so well, and I do not want him to ever leave us. I was very angry with him the time he tried to run away. I even thought I hated him for all of the trouble he caused, but now I know better. He has become a steady young man. It would make perfect sense to me if you were to marry him. You are the one who always believed in him, after all."
Felicity giggled. "I do not want to see him leave us, either. Not ever. I would miss him terribly, for he is one of my dearest friends. I am still but twelve years old and Ben is seventeen. He would never want to marry such a silly little girl."
"I do not think Ben considers you silly…at least not anymore. He has said many admiring things about your spirit, how you help take care of Polly, and how you keep house. You kept the whole house going last year when mother was ill. Mother says you are growing like a weed. It will not be that long until you put your hair up and your skirts down and start receiving beaus. And Ben is very handsome, hardworking and kind."
"He is most handsome and most kind, but I am still too young to think about such things," said Felicity firmly. "Now that Patriot and Penny and Bess have had their dinner, let us go clean up for ours."
The girls left the stable, and Ben was left in thought. Felicity was still a child, but she had matured beyond her years due to the war and her mother's terrible illness. She was bright and cheerful and an excellent housekeeper, due to her mother's wonderful example and training. He had one quick thought of being a real part of the Merriman family forever in the new republic that he was sure was to come, but he shook it off quickly. He was not in a position to think of such things, and Felicity was indeed too young to consider them. It would be an insult to the Merriman's to harbor such thoughts about their child.
In August, 1776, as Ben put away stock, his mind was on the war. He was wild with longing to go, but now also glad in a small way he was not at liberty to go. He had perfect faith in General Washington, who was organizing the Continental Army. The general had wisely realized that his troops were desperately short of powder. There had been not only raids on arsenals, and some manufacturing attempts planned, but it now looked like France was going to be willing to sell powder to the Colonists. Ben wanted to be a soldier, but he had decided he might be better to be a soldier in an army that at least had adequate powder and shot. But many a time he longed to escape the confines of the store. If he had even been able to spend more time out of doors, it would have helped Ben liked the out of doors. He had missed visiting the plantation that summer, and thought often about how green a place it was, how the fish must be biting in the river, and how the horses and sheep must look out in the pastures.
Felicity was sweeping the floor, and Ben glanced over at her. She was whistling cheerfully as she worked, and it made him grin. She was always trying to be helpful, even when it took great effort to do so.
"You're doing a good job, Felicity," he said to her. "Your father will be proud of you once again when he returns. It must be hard to have to do so much work here at the store, but you do it well and never complain."
"You and Marcus never complain, either." She looked at him with warm brown eyes.
"That is because it is our job. You could be home helping your mother, or sewing yourself a new dress, or taking care of those horses you love so instead of being cursed with such boring, dreary tasks.
"Work well done is relieved of its curse," Felicity answered. "Nan is better at helping mother anyway, and while I do enjoy a pretty dress now and then, I do not live for fashion. I like being here at the store. I love the way it smells. I have since I was a little girl. I love the smell of soap, spices, coffee beans and apples, all mixed together. There is no where else I would rather be than here helping out. It's hard to refuse you when you need me."
Remembering the day she had called him most handsome and kind, he wondered if that was just because of the store or because of him as well, but he quickly chided himself for his arrogance. But Felicity had turned thirteen and was becoming a woman before his eyes, and inexperienced as he was in the ways of women, Ben could tell she would be a handsome one herself. It was so unexpected for him to be seeing Felicity in this way that it made him uneasy. The apothecary's son, a short, pudgy lad named Jeffrey Galt, already fancied her, and came to the store often to buy sweets and catch her eye. Ben recognized this, because it was exactly what he now knew Annabelle Cole had often done when she had been sweet on him, and it gave him an odd feeling of dread that he could not explain. He told himself that Felicity had been left at the store in his care, and it was up to him to make sure no harm befell her, but it still niggled at him that a fourteen year old boy was hanging about, getting in the way, just to be in the girl's presence. Ben was about to turn eighteen, and had no patience with the clumsy youth.
Ben had already decided he would remain with the Merriman's for awhile after his eighteenth birthday. Edward Merriman had promised him a half-share, which was more than generous, to stay on while he continued to follow the army with food and supplies. It was a situation that suited both the young man and the older one well.
In October, 1776, a letter arrived from Yorktown.
"Oh, Ben! A letter from your family! How happy you must be!" Felicity said as he stood in the store fingering the envelope in his hands. "I hope it is good news. So much of the news lately has been bad."
Felicity's father had been traveling, collecting food for the Patriot troops, and the last time he had come home, he had been very discouraged. The news from New York had all been bad. General Howe had taken control of Manhattan, and the Continental Army had had to withdraw to Harlem Heights in September. A great battle was said to be coming. The heaviest of the fighting was expected to be at White Plains, and it was feared the Patriot troops might have to retreat again. Felicity was certain, though, that they would eventually win the day. But she feared for her father's health and safety, and was very grateful that Ben had agreed to stay at the store with the Merriman's servant, Marcus, and keep it running while her father worked for the Commissary.
Felicity knew how much Ben had wanted to join the militia, but he was as loyal to the Merriman family as he was to the Patriot cause, and had agreed knowing not only how much he was needed at the store, but how much help Mr. Merriman was giving the cause. Felicity felt Ben deserved some good news from home.
When he read the letter, though, Ben's brown eyes grew hard, and he tossed it down on the counter impatiently.
"What's wrong?" Felicity said tentatively, laying a hand on Ben's arm as he stared moodily at the bit of paper.
"My mother is sorry that I ever came to Williamsburg. She regrets my father apprenticing me to your father."
"My father has the finest shop in Williamsburg," said Felicity hotly, "and you were the finest apprentice in all of the colonies, and are now the finest shopkeeper I know aside from my father himself!"
Ben sighed. "Felicity, it has nothing to do with the shop. You must understand. Williamsburg is different than Yorktown. There are many more Loyalists there. My mother and my brothers prefer British rule. They are not fervent Loyalists, because they are trying to stay out of trouble, but they do not understand the Patriots."
"How many brothers do you have?" asked Felicity, fascinated. Ben hardly ever talked about his family.
"I have three. We are all three years apart, just like you and your siblings are. Brandon is the eldest, then Brett, then Bryce, and I am the youngest."
"All of your names begin with the same letter," noted Felicity.
"Aye, that's a tradition in my family. Whatever letter you begin with, you continue. It was the same with my great-grandfather's family, and my grandfather's and all of their sons." He smiled slightly at Felicity. "It must sound like a foolish notion to one who is not familiar with it."
"On the contrary, I think it's sweet," Felicity answered. "There's nothing wrong with tradition, when it's sentimental. It's just when it's rooted in stubbornness that it vexes me."
"That's the problem I have with my mother. Since my father died, she and my brothers have refused to even consider changing anything in their lives. No wonder they have Loyalist leanings. All of their friends are Loyalists, and they would never consider listening to anyone who had the slightest difference in opinion from theirs." Ben waved his hand at the letter. "My grandfather had a tobacco farm, and our family later made our living running one of the mercantile houses that handled tobacco sales. Being well-off made my mother even more traditional. She and my brothers would ignore the entire war if they could. My mother is even suggesting I consider marriage to the daughter of her best friend, as if the first thing on my mind at such a time as this should be finding a wife."
Felicity was thunderstruck at the thought of Ben's mother trying to negotiate a marriage for him with the daughter of a Loyalist family. "Do you know your intended? Do you like her?"
"Aye, of course I like her. I've known Louisa since we were sharing the same rattles and teething sticks. But she is not my intended by any means. I've never even considered marrying her. I have enough trouble with the Loyalists in my life without adding in the additional worry of a wife. Women bedevil me, Felicity. I don't think I'll ever understand them. I'm going to put the whole notion out of my mind. The storeroom needs straightening, and Marcus will not be able to help me. He had deliveries on the other side of town."
"I will help you, Ben, but will you tell me one more thing?"
"What do you wish to know?"
"Do I bedevil you?"
Ben laughed. "No. You are as honest and straightforward as the rest of your family. You remind me of your grandfather. Even when he and I didn't agree, we could come straight to the point always, and eventually respect each other's views." He and Felicity both took a moment to remember the old gentleman. Then Felicity shook her head to clear it.
"We'd best get to that storeroom. Marcus knocked over a barrel of nails on his way out. He wanted to clean then up, but I told him the deliveries were more important. That was the right thing to say, was it not?"
"Aye, that's my good girl," Ben said, smiling at her, and Felicity felt a flicker of happiness hearing the words that she had so often heard from her father. Ben was not going to leave them and go back to Yorktown to marry a girl named Louisa. He belonged in Williamsburg, with the Merrimans, the people he understood best, and who understood him best.
At dinner that night, as Ben took his place at table, Felicity's mother gently stroked his cheek. "Ben, my boy, you look tired. Did you have a difficult day at the shop?"
"I wish we could do better, I fear I'll never be as good as Mr. Merriman. And so many are in fear of British attack that they are only shopping for the things they must buy. Many items we purchased in better times have sat on the shelves since the war began."
"That is not your fault, Ben. I know you are doing the best you can and I thank God every day that we have you in our lives."
Felicity smiled at her mother's kind words, as Ben blushed. Mrs. Merriman had considered Ben to be part of the family since he had come from Yorktown, a shy and serious fourteen year old boy. She would never try to talk any child of hers into marrying a girl he did not want to marry.
Felicity had a strange longing to go back to the shop and spend more time with him, but the winter sewing had just been started, and her mother and Nan needed her help now. There were warm cloaks, coats, gowns with lined skirts, and petticoats to be made. Each day for a month Felicity got up at seven, had coffee with her breakfast, and joined her mother and sister to measure, cut, baste, fit and stitch. She took special care, though, with the new coat that they were making for Ben.
When it was finished and presented to him, Mrs. Merriman told him that Felicity had done most of the work on it.
He smiled at her and said, "Then I will treasure it all the more." Felicity was warmed herself by his words.
By January, 1777, Felicity was frantic. They had not heard from her father since before Christmas, which was most unusual. He came home every few weeks as a rule, and he would never have missed Christmas at home unless his circumstances had been dire.
Ben had tried to help make Christmas merry, by complimenting the decorations Felicity and Nan had put up in the house, and by getting them all talking of the happier times of Christmases past. He and Felicity especially enjoyed reminiscing about the time he had escorted Felicity to the Yule Ball at the Governor's mansion, the height of the season in Williamsburg.
But Felicity, in bed that night, felt a sense of dread return. She had heard of the horrible prison ships maintained by the British in New York, and was fearful that her father had somehow been caught in some kind of battle. More soldiers were dying for lack of care than were being killed in battle. She prayed for her father to come home soon, or at least send word as to why he had been delayed so long. When word finally came, she wept with happiness as the whole family, including Ben, sat in the parlor, listening to her mother read each word in a gentle voice.
My dear Ones,
I never expected to be gone at Christmas time. I hope you managed to have a happy Christmas. The need of the soldiers has been much greater than we expected, and we kept getting involved in other situations that we had not prepared for.
The militia had to withdraw across the Delaware in early December, into Pennsylvania. Many men were killed or captured, but the British failed in several attempts to crush our army. We hear that Congress may have to abandon Philadelphia. That will be a hard blow, but we believe resistance to the British occupation is growing.
Many of our brave men are cold and hungry, and many men walk barefoot in the snow, leaving spots of blood with every step, but as long as they live, they will keep up the fight, and I will continue to do all that I can to help in any way I can.
I know my dear wife, that you are doing all you can to keep our home running smoothly in my absence. Polly is probably growing right before your eyes. I can't wait to see her again. Tell William I expect him to be the man of the house and mother's right arm, just as dear little Nan must be her extra hand. I hope my little Felicity is minding her manners, keeping her temper, and doing all she can to help Ben and Marcus as she promised me she would do. She is in my heart every moment of every day. I have no doubt that Ben is doing all he can to keep the business going. Give him all my best wishes. He may not have been born into our family, but he is no less a son of my heart.
Pray for me, and think of me. Knowing you are all together warms my heart.
Please give Mrs. Fitchett the enclosed letter from her husband, so that she knows at least that we are still together, and helping each other as good comrades do.
Your loving husband and father,
Edward
"Oh, what a splendid letter" cried Felicity. "Whatever do you think he means by situations he had not prepared for?"
"Probably something he did not wish to write," said Ben softly, "in case the letter fell into the hands of the Loyalists."
"Father said more about you than about me," said William crossly to Ben.
Ben smiled and ruffled the child's hair. "I need more lecturing than you do. Your mother is so wise that helping her must be a joy always. The store, alas, is sometimes a trial."
Nan sidled up to Ben. "I'm glad father mentioned you. T'was only fitting. You do so much to help in so many ways. And I quite understand why he thinks of you as one of us. You're my almost brother in my mind as well. I wish you could really be my brother."
Ben had been touched by Mr. Merriman's faith in him, and he was equally touched when Nan said this, and reached out to pat her shoulder. He remembered overhearing her say something quite similar in the stables the previous year. But looking at her carefully, he could see she was not the same girl.
Nan had been a robust toddler, but as she had grown, she had not kept that vitality as her sister had. She had come down with every childhood illness possible. At ten Nan was thin and quiet and delicate. She had become a little house mouse. Seeing this, Ben tried to be especially gentle with her. Mrs. Merriman was not surprised by Nan's devotion to Ben Davidson, but she was surprised to see her eldest daughter blushing. Felicity tried her best never to blush. It didn't suit her complexion. As she looked from her daughter to her husband's former apprentice, a new thought came into Mrs. Merriman's mind, but she pushed it aside. Felicity was still a child. Time and their own hearts would have to determine where Benjamin Davidson's final place would be in the Merriman family.
In March, 1777, Felicity and Ben were arguing on the front porch, where they were enjoying an unusually bright spring day, in between bouts of spring cleaning. Nan had taken William and Polly to play in the yard to get them out of the way, while Rose and her mother and Felicity worked. William was raising rabbits, and because rabbits were not hard to raise the whole project was getting out of hand and taking up quite a bit of time and space. Mrs. Merriman, Felicity and Rose were cleaning the carpets. Ben had left Marcus at the store, feeling the need for some of the fresh, crisp spring air, and had come to help Rose lift the carpets, and take them outside so they could be beaten on the line. He was waiting to help her to finish so they could bring them back in. Felicity and her mother were taking turns helping Rose. It was hard work.
"I can't believe that the British are still counting on Loyalist support, but that is what we hear," said Felicity. "Loyalist exiles are giving those they left behind too much credit, I think."
"According to what your father said when he was home, there are two main British armies now, Carleton's in Canada and Howe's in New York. Campaigns, he had heard, have been planned in London, by Lord Germain, but I suspect they have not been planned well. The rivalry between the two commanders works in our favor. I do not think they will work in conjunction," said Ben, rocking comfortably in his chair, as the sun shone on them.
"Why did he not tell us such things?" Felicity asked crossly.
"Probably he did not tell you because troop movements are considered a suitable topic for men, not children."
"Benjamin Davidson, I'll be fourteen in a few weeks. I'm not a child any more."
"That is why I am not averse to telling you the truth. We have no secrets from each other, do we, Felicity? It's hard to refuse you when you want to know something," said Ben, thinking as he looked at her, that she had spoken the truth. She had grown into a lovely young woman right before his eyes, and occasionally it still disconcerted him.
Felicity relaxed. "No, I do not think we do. Remember when I was trying to learn to ride Penny and borrowed your best breeches? Thank you again for not telling on me."
"Thank you, again, for helping me when I ran away to join the militia."
"I was so angry with you, Ben Davidson. That was a very foolish thing to do. I'm glad you came to your senses so quickly."
"I promised I would never run away again, and I have not. Didn't I tell you then that it is hard to refuse you?"
"Not, not, not," sang Polly as she plopped down on the bottom step and began to tunefully bang a wooden spoon on the porch.
Felicity picked her up, and Ben smiled at the pretty picture the two Merriman girls made as the bright red head bent over the lighter one. "You are good with little ones, Felicity Merriman. It seems like just yesterday when Polly was born, and you were helping your mother care for her."
"She was such a sweet baby. I wish her birth had not cost Mother the chance to have other children. I would have enjoyed having more babies in the house. Soon it will be warm enough for her to play outside all the time," said Felicity giving him a smile back. "Perhaps we will be able to visit grandfather's plantation. We'll pick blackberries and peaches and figs. The fields will be green, and the flowers will be blooming, and the horses will be in the paddocks. When she's old enough, I hope father will buy her a pony so I can teach her to ride."
"No one would be better suited to do so," said Ben, thinking about how nice a visit to the plantation would be, for all of them, and how unlikely, alas, that it was. He ignored, as was proper, the fact that Felicity had broached the subject of childbearing with him. Women were not supposed to discuss such things with men, but Felicity had always been bluntly honest, and he was used to that.
"It is kind of you to help with all of this heavy lifting, Ben," Mrs. Merriman said, coming around to the front of the porch. "Spring cleaning is a chore, but it is worth it, in the end. The reward is sure. I want to take the mattresses out tomorrow, to air, if the weather holds. I was hoping you would help us with that, too, if it's not too much trouble."
"Your home is always comfortable, peaceful and attractive, Mrs. Merriman," said Ben, "and I would be delighted to help you. I am honored to be of service to you in any way I can. It would most ungrateful of me not to be, since you have taken me into your home with such kindness and grace. Indeed, I have felt more at home here than in the home of my childhood."
"Felicity and Nan have been a great help, too of course. I feel every mother who has her daughter's best interest at heart will not neglect to teach her first of all the duties of a household. When the girls have their own homes, I want them to be accomplished housekeepers. Compared to all other accomplishments, it is the one that bears most on a woman's relationship with her real life and her family."
"I wonder where I will live when I have my own home," Felicity mused. "I sometimes feel as if I never want to leave you and father, but then I feel a longing for the future, and wonder what it may hold for me."
Ben looked at Felicity, and said seriously, "We will live in a nation of our own, a glorious Republic, in peace and happiness. I feel it in my bones."
"Such serious talk," Mrs. Merriman teased.
"Oh, by the way, Felicity," Ben said, to do a bit of his own teasing, "before I left the store, young Jeff Galt came in. I can't imagine what he was looking for, because the moment he came in and looked around, he looked quite disappointed. He bought quite a bit of candy, but I would guess what he was more interested in was not in the store today."
Felicity rolled her eyes. "I suppose not. Never fear, though. He'll be back. He is very hard to get rid of." She set Polly down, ignoring the child's quivering lip, and went back to helping Rose.
Mrs. Merriman looked at Ben. "I take it that young Mr. Jeffrey Galt has taken an interest in my oldest daughter?"
"It would seem so, but Felicity does not seem interested in return. She brushes him off as quickly as she can."
"I think," said Mrs. Merriman, "that she needs a bit more time to realize where that future of hers lies."
"Don't we all?" Ben answered. He held out his arms, coaxing Polly to toddle toward him. She saw more of Ben Davidson these days than she did her father, and had no fear of him. When she had first begun to reach out to him, to be picked up, Ben had been terrified. He was the youngest in his family and knew little about babies. When he had first come to the Merriman's, William had been a toddler, but at the time, Ben had not spent as much time with the family. Homesick, he had kept to his room, until Mrs. Merriman had coaxed him into her family circle. Now he was so at home in it, he had no qualms about sitting Polly on his knee and cuddling her.
As the toddler crowed with laugher from her higher perch, tossing her strawberry blond hair, Mrs. Merriman shook her head smiling. "You may not know where your future will lead you, young Benjamin, but if given half the chance, I think you will make an excellent father."
"That, I fear, is far off into the future indeed, but I hope you are right. I do not think a man is truly a man unless he has a family," Ben answered, ducking as Polly waved her spoon, nearly turning his head into her next drum.
Felicity had one great sorrow that summer. The Merrimans were staying in town, but her horse, Patriot, was going out to the plantation. There was a likely looking mare at her grandfather's old place, and Saul, the slave who still managed the horses on the plantation thought they could get some excellent foals if they bred her to Felicity's stallion. Felicity was excited about the possibility of having a new foal in the family, but she would miss Patriot. As Ben had feared all along, she and her family were too busy now to spend the entire summer on the plantation as they used to do. When Saul came to take Patriot away, she ran into the garden and cried.
Ben went after her, walking toward her slowly, not wanting to intrude, but sensing that she needed him. He dropped down beside her. They were both on their knees, surrounded by the combined scents of roses, mint, sage and thyme. He put his hand out, and she did not pull away. She leaned into his hand, and he lifted the other hand to her hair, which had come tumbling down. It was as bright as a marigold. Ben ran his fingers through it, and then moved his hand down to rub her back. Their knees touched and she rested her tear-streaked cheek on his shoulder, accepting the comfort he offered.
After a long moment, Felicity pulled back and looked straight into his eyes. Her cheeks were still wet, and he used his thumbs to wipe away the tears. He suddenly wanted so much to kiss her that he felt faint, but he knew how wrong that would be.
"Patriot will love being back at the plantation, just as you do," he said soothingly, "and when the new foal comes, it will be a blessing."
"I know," said Felicity, burying her face into his shirtfront, "But so many things have changed. Nothing seems to stay the same."
"I will always be your friend," Ben said gently.
"That's true," said Felicity. "At least I hope it is!" She treated him to a trembling smile, and he smiled back. His eyes were a warm, dark brown, and Felicity realized at that moment exactly how much she loved to look into them with her own chestnut colored eyes.
In October, 1777, Mr. Merriman had just come home after a long and weary trip. The war was not going well and he was glad to be home again. Howe had just defeated Washington at Brandywine and Germantown, in Pennsylvania and occupied Philadelphia. He arrived right after apple butter time, and at last had the chance to really see how much his children had changed over the course of the war. Polly was a real little person now, with thoughts and opinions of her own. William was becoming a thoughtful boy, kind to animals and devoted to his sisters. Nan was still frail, and her delicacy filled him with dread, for not many families in town managed to raise all of their children to adulthood.
"It makes me ill that the Congress has once again abandoned Philadelphia, and that it is in Howe's hands, but we were outmaneuvered, and had to retreat. The Germantown attack was also unsuccessful, so now we watch and wait," said Ben, as they discussed the progress of the war after dinner one night."
"I fear the coming winter," said Mr. Merriman. "Disease and exposure take more good men than musket balls. And I fear I will miss another Christmas at our table. What a table it always is!"
"Oh, my dear, do not tell me you will be leaving us for so long yet again," said Mrs. Merriman. "I worry about you so when you are away. I worry about what you are being exposed to, and whether you have enough to eat. And to have you away at Christmas is almost more than I can bear."
"But Martha, the boys in the camps are missed too," Mr. Merriman said to his wife. "They do their duty and do it manfully. I must do mine. I must do what I can to help them. When I have less to eat than I do at home, I just think back in my mind remembering the sugared fruit, and your delicious tarts, and the good chocolate you pour so elegantly from our silver pot."
"It seems as if the war will go on forever," said Felicity with a sigh.
"The invasion of Canada was a disaster," said Ben.
"It delayed a full scale British counteroffensive," said Mr. Merriman, "but I fear it cost us what little support we had in British public opinion."
"They must be laughing at us," said Felicity bitterly, "after we had to abandon our own capital!"
"Philadelphia will be in our hands again, soon, Felicity," Ben tenderly assured her. "Of that I have no doubt. We have General Lafayette on our side now, and Baron Von Steuben is going to be helping to train the troops. They are both brilliant men."
"If you say so, I will believe you," Felicity said, smiling demurely at Ben.
Mr. Merriman watched his daughter's sparkling eyes, and then glanced over at his wife, who shrugged. Later on, after Ben had gone back to his room above the stables, and the children were in bed, he said to his wife in the privacy of their own bedchamber, "What is going on between Felicity and Ben?"
"Nothing I am sure," said his wife. "They like to talk, but they always have. They have been friends since they were children."
"They are not children any more. Lissie is fast leaving childhood, and Ben is a man. Do I need to ask him what his intentions are toward my daughter?"
"They like each other, but they are both too passionate about the war to be passionate about each other. At least I hope not, for from passionate children other children can come. That is not to say that Ben would not make a good father- on the contrary, I think he would."
Ignoring her husband's gasp of shock she continued. "I love Ben like my own child. I would not be against him truly becoming part of the family some day, but I do not want to see Lissie bind herself before she is eighteen. It has nothing to do with the lad himself. He is honest and hardworking and kind, and I'm sure he would treat her well. She is just too young."
"I had never seriously considered Ben for Lissie, but now that I do, it makes sense. Many young men are being lost every day. I see them, maimed, and dying, and dead. It makes me happy to know that Ben is safe at home. War is not the glorious thing he thinks it is. It is a terrible thing. We must think about who will be left when the war is done for our daughters to marry. It would grieve me to see the girls left spinsters, living without love, and never having any children of their own. Mrs. Deere is looking forward, I think, to bringing another generation of Williamsburg babes into the world, and I would like some of them to be our grandchildren."
"Miss Manderly is a spinster and she is an accomplished woman," His wife pointed out. "That's what of the fine things about this new nation of ours. There is opportunity for all. And I still think it's too early to start worrying about who the girls will marry. Even Lissie is too young, although she does seem to have somewhat of an attraction to Ben, and Jeffrey Galt, the apothecary's son seems to be quite sweet on her."
"I never liked that lad. His father spared the rod and spoiled the child, I fear. But I'm not surprised that Lissie is being noticed by the lads, as young as she is. The oldest Cole girl started courting when she was sixteen, and she was not nearly as sweet and pretty as our Lissie," Mr. Merriman pointed out.
"Yes, and it was a disaster."
"We started courting at sixteen!"
"Well, you and I were made for each other. There was no reason to wait. And there was no war then. Lissie and Ben are too much alike, both impulsive and proud. They are not ready to marry," said Mrs. Merriman firmly.
"I don't think either of them has given it much thought yet. There is something there, but I do not know yet what it is."
"I will watch them carefully, my love. And when this cruel war is over, we will be able to judge them better. In the meantime, I think Lissie should get out of the store more, and spend more time doing other things. Ever if it's wartime, people don't think as well as they should of a girl in trade."
"Now who is worrying about opportunities for women?" her husband teased her.
Over the winter of 1777, General Washington encamped with his army at Valley Forge. Out of ten thousand men, 2,500 died of disease and exposure. Baron Von Steuben's modern Prussian methods of organization and tactics, though, stood them in good stead when they came out in the spring.
General Clinton had replaced General Howe as British commander-in-chief. The entry of the French into the war had forced a change in British strategy. New York City was now vulnerable to French naval power. Clinton had to retreat from Philadelphia to reinforce New York.
In the spring of 1778, Felicity got word that Patriot's foal had been born on the plantation, out of Naomi, the last mare he grandfather had bought before his death, and she longed to be there, but she wanted to spend as much time with Elizabeth as possible. The Cole girls and their mother were going to New York to be with Mr. Cole. They had missed him too much, and their property in Williamsburg had been too hard to maintain without him. But Felicity would miss Elizabeth sorely, for she was the closest friend that Felicity had in Williamsburg, except for Ben, and there were things that Felicity just couldn't tell Ben that she could tell another girl. Nan was getting ready to start at Miss Manderly's, and Felicity hoped that she would also make friends there, as she had.
In the summer of 1778 Felicity was delighted to hear that the city of Philadelphia out of British hands and that General Clark had captured British posts in the Northwest. It almost made up for the fact that Elizabeth had gone. Nan was making the most beautiful samplers with Miss Manderly. Felicity was in awe of her sister's beautiful stitching and surprised by how much Nan enjoyed making samplers. Felicity could sew, and sew well enough when she had to, but it was not her favorite pastime. She had just finished making Ben a very serviceable shirt, but with Nan sewing was an art. Felicity always paid more attention to news of the war than she did to her sewing basket.
When Felicity heard the news about Philadelphia, she ran into the back room of the store and hurled her arms around Ben in her excitement. "General Clinton has abandoned Philadelphia! Someone else in the family will have to be the saint. You are now the prophet!"
He hugged her, laughing with joy. She looked up at him, and reached out, her fingers outlining his smiling lips, and when she did, he could only stare into her eyes, struck dumb by her gentle touch. They both suddenly found it very hard to breathe, and Felicity wanted nothing more than to press her lips to his. It would have been but the work of a moment, but she could not do it. It would have been too forward, even for her. She stepped back, suddenly oddly shy.
He let her go, and looked at her again, his expression unreadable. "That is great news," he said slowly. "The tide of the war is surely changing. Perhaps now your father can come home and let me go so I can be there at the end."
Felicity stepped back further in shock. "Oh, Ben, how can you say that? I couldn't bear to see you go now. I've lost Elizabeth, and my father, and I don't want to lose you as well."
"Felicity, it's all I've ever wanted. I'm nineteen years old. I've given your father a year past the time I promised him. I've cut myself off from my entire family to do so. When will it be my time?"
"I thought WE were your family, Benjamin Davidson! We need you here, and I want you to stay."
Ben looked miserably at Felicity. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Felicity. You know how hard it is for me to refuse you, but this is something I feel I must do. I've wanted it for so long."
Before she could reply, William came running into the shop looking as white as a ghost.
"It's Father!" he said crying.
Ben and Felicity went running, Felicity holding up her skirts as she had done in childhood, to the horror of old Mrs. Templeton, who happened to be standing outside the store. When they got to the Merriman house, they found Mr. Fitchett and Marcus lifting Mr. Merriman out of the wagon.
"He's been ill for four days," Mr. Fitchett said grimly. "I never thought he'd make it home. Looks like pleurisy."
Pale, but composed, Mrs. Merriman said firmly, "Take him into the bedroom, Marcus. Ben, please help. Lissie, fetch warm water and clean sheets. Nan, tell Rose to start making some beef tea, and wine whey. William, do not look at me like that. Go and feed your rabbits. Take Polly into the garden and play with them until I get your father settled."
Mr. Merriman was so light and wasted that Ben thought he probably could have carried him alone. He gently placed him where Mrs. Merriman directed, then left the room. Mr. was still outside by the wagon.
"That's it," said Mr. Fitchett. "I'm done for awhile. I've seen things that would make a body's hair curl in this war. Thomas Paine was right when he called these the times that try men's souls."
"Mr. Merriman will be all right, won't he?" Ben pleaded.
Fitchett shook his head. "Good nursing may pull him through, and I knew he'd get the best nursing at home, but it'll be a rare thing if he makes it." He shrugged. "I'm going home now. I haven't seen my wife in weeks."
Mr. Merriman was very ill, much more ill than his wife let on to their younger children. As Felicity was hurrying home from the store one day, she noticed the apothecary's carriage outside her house. Had her father taken a turn for the worse, or had Mr. Galt just found some new medicine for him?
She ran the last few steps, only to be startled by Jeffrey, who was waiting on the porch.
"You frightened the wits out of me," she said furiously. "I did not expect you or your father to be here today."
"My father is not here. I took the carriage and came here because I needed to speak to you and I did not feel like walking. I'm sorry I startled you, Miss Merriman, but I wanted to speak to you before you went in. My father and I have been discussing it, and we think it would be a good idea if your family and mine come to an arrangement soon."
"Concerning what?"
"Why, you and I, Miss Merriman. Surely you must know how I feel about you. My feelings are hardly impetuous. Has it really escaped your notice that for some months past, the friendship I have held in my heart for you has deepened into something more? I am asking you to marry me."
"Mr. Galt! I am not unaware of the honor you have bestowed upon me by asking me to become your wife, but this is hardly the time to discuss such things, with my father so ill, and the war dragging on."
"My father and I think it is the perfect time. Your father is going to pass on soon, and we all know it. Your mother would be much better off with one less child under her roof to support in her widowhood. You will need protection, and I can give it to you."
There was a terrible squeak from the other side of the porch, and Felicity turned in shock to see William standing there, looking horrorstruck
"Father is going to die? Mother won't be able to take care of us?"
She pulled him to her side and hugged him hard. "Don't believe it, William! No one knows that, and certainly not this ill-bred oaf!" She turned to face Jeff. "The answer is no. I would not even consider marrying anyone so insensitive! You are no gentleman to come here at a time like this and say such things to me!"
"You are no lady, to show such a temper. Suit yourself, Felicity Merriman. You can stay a spinster piddling around in your paltry shop for all I care."
"I think we can end this now," said a cold voice from behind them all. Three heads swiveled to see Ben Davidson's furious face looking up at them from the bottom of the steps.
Jeff glared back at him. "Stay out of this, Davidson. 'Tis no concern of yours."
"It is my concern when the shop you are insulting is half mine. It is my concern when the child you are terrifying and the lady you are abusing both reside in my heart and have been left in my care. Leave here at once, and do not come back. If I ever see you around the store or near this house again, you'll regret it mightily."
"I'll go for now, but I'll be back," Jeff warned.
Ben didn't give him a second look, but instead knelt at William's side and took the boy by the shoulders. "Your sister is right, William. No one knows when your father's time will come. It could be soon, or it could be years from now. He IS very ill. There is no denying that. We hope he will get well and live a long time. But no matter when it is that whenever anyone you love leaves you for good, they watch over you from above, and you will always have people to love you and care for you. And someday you will see again the loved ones you have lost, and you can join them in watching over the ones who have been left behind."
"Is Grandfather watching me?" The boy asked, as he nestled in Ben's arms.
"He certainly is, and he is very proud of you for being a good boy and taking such good care of what is yours." Ben stood up, and patted William on the shoulder. "Don't worry about what might be. Run along now, and I'll be there in a few moments to help you build another hutch for your rabbits."
William nodded. Relieved and distracted at once, he ran around the side of the house. Ben turned to Felicity. Her hat had fallen off, and he was shocked to see her weeping. He gathered her up next, brushing the tears tenderly off her cheeks.
"How much of that did you hear?" she asked him, after a moment.
"Nearly all of it, I think. That was a very delicate refusal, my dear Miss Merriman. Much better than the blackguard deserved."
"I never wanted him to think I was encouraging him, but every time I turned around, he was there looking at me. It made me so uneasy."
"I did not know that. I knew he fancied you, but I did not know it was frightening you. What I was not able to see, you could have told me."
"It was my problem, Ben." She stepped back and wiped her eyes and gave him a tremulous smile. "You were wonderful with William. If father goes, it will break my heart, but I will have to go on for the sake of the little ones."
"I expect no less of you, Felicity, but we must hope for the best. We'll manage. You will manage. Did I not tell you when you were but ten years old that you were either the bravest or most foolish girl I had ever known? I soon learned that you were indeed the bravest. You must go on being brave."
She pushed back her flaming red hair. A few tendrils had fallen out of place, and begun to curl around her face. "Ben, you said we should always be honest with each other."
"I am being honest with you, Felicity. Your father is very ill, but I still have hope for him."
"I don't mean about my father. Ben, am I truly in your heart?" Felicity leaned close, and Ben could see the remains of her tears glittering on her cinnamon colored eyelashes, her flushed cheeks, and her wayward curls inches from his face.
He looked pained. "You have been in my heart since you were ten years old, sneaking out of the stables in a borrowed pair of breeches. When I feared Mr. Nye meant you harm my heart nearly stopped. You were in my heart when I left you a desperate message with a whistle at your grandfather's plantation. You were in my heart when I lay injured in the woods, and felt more lost and alone than I have ever felt. My heart aches for you with every loss you suffer. You will always be in my heart."
"I'm so glad Ben, for I love you, and I always will." With that she leaned in, and this time Ben could not help himself. He had but to dip his head the slightest measure to press his lips to hers. Neither was even aware of when they had put their arms around each other, but once the embrace began, they were aware of everything.
Felicity felt the muscles in Ben's back beneath her hands, and his coat buttons pressing into her breast. She could hear the sound of his breathing and his heart beating so close to her own. They were finally kissing, kissing again, and again, and again. Then his lips parted slightly, and she opened hers instinctively to meet him. He tasted like coffee and milk. He smelled like linen and soap, horses and leather, scents that reminded her of her father, and therefore would forever draw her to other men.
Ben could smell Felicity's hair, which was clean and soft like the summer breeze. Her kisses were passionate and her body pliable in his arms, and he was fascinated by the softness of it. As he drew her closer, he felt her breasts against his chest, and her thighs press in along his. She gasped, and sighed, as they kept kissing, but neither sound was a regretful sound. He held her close with one arm, and ran his other hand slowly down her shoulder, to her back, rubbing gently, and then found himself just as gently tracing the curve of her buttock. She moaned slightly then, and that sound shook him. He turned his face away from hers, burying it in her hair so she could not see the mixture of desire and shame in his eyes.
"Felicity, no, we must not do this!" He caught his breath and let her go so suddenly, that she nearly stumbled. "I beg your pardon, Felicity. I do not deserve it, but I beg it of you anyway. This is my fault! It will never happen again. I'll go away if I have to, before I ever again take such unfair advantage of you, and outrage the hospitality of this house that has sheltered me for so long!" He turned his back to her, and leaned over the porch railing in despair.
"Ben, you must not feel that way! Nothing has ever felt so right to me. It was what I wanted. How can you be taking advantage of me, if this makes me so happy? I'm not a child. I'm a woman, who does not mind the touch of the man she loves."
"Lissie, you were right when you told Jeffrey you would not marry him. Your reasoning was sound. We're in a war, and no one knows what is going to happen next. Your family needs you now. Your mother needs you."
"They need you, too, and I need you!"
"Not this way. I just realized it. I'm treating you like that oaf would have treated you if he had gotten the chance. Nothing is different just because it is me and not him!"
"Everything is different, Benjamin Davidson! It's different because I love you, and you love me. I know you do. I felt it every time I am in your arms."
He finally raised his head and looked at her sadly. "You think that you love me, but I fear you are too young to know your own mind. I think you've perhaps made me into what you want me to be."
"You have made yourself into what I want you to be…an honest, caring, hardworking man that I can be proud of. That is what I love about you! Ben, are you trying to tell me that you don't love me?"
"I think I do, but it's not a decision I want to make impulsively. When the war is over, if we still feel the same way, I will speak to your parents in a proper way, and then we will decide. But I am not going to take you on the ground like an animal!"
Felicity winced at his ugly description of what she had considered a very beautiful thing. "That's not what you were doing," Felicity said in a small voice.
He gave her an odd smile. "Ah, Felicity, you know so little of men. Again, my dear, I must ask your forgiveness for my assault on your innocence. Now I need to get back to William. Pounding a few pegs will do me good. Go to your father. Your mother will be wondering where you are."
Felicity watched him walk away, and her heart filled with despair. With one kiss, she had felt she understood the whole world. That same kiss had made Ben feel that he understood nothing. It was so unfair.