So I really like history and I was like "yay romance" so I'm writing this for all the historical fiction fans out there like me. I know the dialogue isn't very 18th century (like at all) but hopefully the story will keep ya coming so here ya go:
A storm ravaged the windows of Elsa's dimly lit parlor. She quickly glanced outside, then drew the curtains shut and triple-checked that her door was securely bolted. She returned to her place at the table, where four other shadowy figures were sitting around a scattering of candles and documents covered in browned, faded ink.
"Anything?" said the figure to her left.
"Nobody's out there, the storm is too strong." Elsa replied.
"We picked a good time to do this, then. Those amendments will start being enforced tomorrow, and I'm not sure how we'll communicate with so many redcoats crawling around."
"We'll find a way, Grandfather. Let's focus on the present." Elsa's urgent tone brought her stony, stoic kin back to the table.
"Yes. Now that we've sent the reserves to Lexington, there's no turning back." Grandfather said.
A fist was pounded on the table, shaking the candles. "We shouldn't have left ourselves unguarded. With no militia, New York will fall in a matter of hours."
"We're not at war yet, Kristoff." Elsa said. "And hush, you'll wake Anna."
"Why are we keeping this from her, again?" Kristoff asked.
"The farther away she is from our conversations the safer she'll be. You know this." Elsa urged.
Another cleared their throat. "Enough with the family talk. We have more serious matters to attend."
Grandfather cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the entire table. "We'll need to hide our correspondence letters to Philadelphia and Boston. Somewhere the troops will never suspect."
Gerda volunteered with a slight raise of her hand.
"Good. When are our troops due to arrive in Concord?" Grandfather continued.
"Two days, sir." Olaf volunteered. "But the storm may have slowed their progress."
"There's no doubt it did, but we sent our strongest. They'll be alright." Grandfather glanced at Elsa, whose face betrayed nothing but a calm exterior.
They continued to talk until the storm died down, well past the high moon and into the morning.
One by one, they slipped out of Elsa's door, carrying no light as they fled back to the security of their own homes.
Grandfather was the last to leave. "Your father will be fine Elsa. Just as you said," he reassured her. "We're not at war yet."
Elsa nodded, and sent him away with a wave. She shut the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief before turning to Kristoff, who was blowing out the candles around the room.
"Thanks for letting us stay here, Elsa." he said, not meeting her eyes. "We can be back to the farm in the morning, before you're even awake-"
"It's fine, Kristoff." Elsa reassured him. "But it's only a matter of months before..."
"I know. I'll have it fixed before the baby comes."
Elsa sighed as Kristoff departed to her guest room. She opened her curtains to the now empty and very wet street, peering into the darkness as if she expected a redcoat to come out of the night.