Author's Notes: Yay, another update! This is a shorter chapter; I'm trying to vary my chapter lengths instead of writing long ones like I usually do. Oh, and yes, Oliver Cummings is my own character. And if you haven't figured out that I don't own "1776", yeah… I'm going to be putting the links to what my characters look like on my profile soon, if I can find good enough pictures online.
Chapter 2:
The weeks went by without much happening. We had finally settled into our new house, and were starting to get used to life in Philadelphia. This particular day, Mary and I were at the market; a place where I usually spent time alone, but that was not the case today.
"Mary, look at these tomatoes. Do you think that they are ripe enough to buy?"
"No," Mary said. "I think the ones nearer you would be better."
I reached down to pick up some more, and found that my hand was covering the tomatoes, but a hand was covering mine. I looked up to see who the hand belonged to, and was surprised to see that it was James Wilson. "Mr. Wilson," I said with a smile.
"Ms. Wrightly," he said, quickly removing his hand from mine, "'tis nice to see you again."
"And the same to you, sir," I said.
"Ah, James, I am afraid that you are not fast enough once again." I turned my head to look at the newcomer, and my breath caught in my throat.
James gave a small chuckle. "As usual," he grumbled. "Ms. Anne Wrightly, may I introduce to you Mr. John Dickinson, my fellow congressman."
"And honor, sir," I managed to choke out after a second's pause. I was not sure why, but I could not keep my eyes off of John. His brown hair was pulled back, as was James', and he wore an elegant black hat atop his head. I think that it was his bright blue eyes that were his most captivating feature, and the fact that he was handsome did not hurt, either.
John and James continued to talk about tomatoes, and how hard decent one were becoming to get, while I continued to gaze at John. Then I felt an elbow jam into my ribs. Mary was looking at me, her head cocked at the other two. "Oh, I am sorry," I said. "Mr. Wilson, Mr. Dickinson, this is my younger sister, Mary." The men tipped their hats at her, and she curtsied.
After a few more minutes of simple conversation between the men and myself, mostly about my recent move, James pointed out that it looked like rain, and that we would be best to head for home.
"It was an honor to meet you, Mr. Dickinson," I said.
"And the same to you," he said. I could feel my face flush red when he took my hand and kissed it lightly.
When they had started to walk away, Mary wandered back over, having been bored with the conversation earlier, and had excused herself with the false intention of searching for some fresh bread to buy. "Are you done yet?" she asked. "Anne? Anne, are you even listening to me?"
But I wasn't listening at all. I continued to stare after John. I felt my face flush red once again when he looked back at me, a smile on his face. "You think he's handsome," Mary said, a smirk breaking on her face.
"No," I said. My answer was certainly not helped by the fact that my face was still bright red.
"You're not a good liar, Anne," Mary said with a giggle.
"Alright!" I said. "I do find him handsome." Mary continued to smirk at me. "Mary, you know very well that I am not thinking of marriage at the moment. I am more concerned with settling in here in Philadelphia. And besides, I would never choose a husband based on appearance."
Mary sighed. "You are right. But let us hurry home. I am not sure how much longer Bridget can stand with the little ones."
"Or how much longer the little ones can stand with Bridget," I added with a small giggle. I placed my arm around her shoulders, and we headed for home.
