1774
January
"I will be gone for a few days," Connor announced at the breakfast table. She glanced at him, but did not care to speak, chewing away on her piece of bread.
"Where to?" Achilles asked, and her eyes darted to him.
"Well, I wanted to see how my village is doing. Hear if there is news about Johnson's plans." Slowly Achilles nodded, and then both their gazes fell on her. She swallowed, and straightened herself.
"Huh?" was all she could bring forth. It was still early in the morning, and she had not slept very well. A smile hushed across Connor's face as he gently rested his hands on the table, bestowing his attention on her.
"Would you accompany me?"
She tilted her head to the right and looked at him questioningly. "Do you think you will need my help?" she inquired. She really did not know why he would ask her to come with him. His plans did not sound like he could not carry them out on his own.
Connor shrugged. "You never know what might happen. I would feel safer if I had someone to watch my back," he told her, and she narrowed her eyes, mustering him with a great deal of distrust. She saw in his face that he felt offended by her gaze, and relaxed a little. For a moment she turned her thoughts over in her mind. She was very clear about the fact that he was to be trusted, but her mother's lessons about the hideousness of the male sex were too deeply rooted to be ignored just like that. Still she was more than ready to give Connor the benefit of a doubt.
"How long will we be out?" she asked, and Connor's mien brightened.
"All things considered…one week, I should think." Alejandra threw a glance out of the window. It was still snowing. The snow was heaping up outside. It would take the horses a lot of strength to go through so much snow. Connor seemed to read the skepticism in her face and added, "All right, maybe one and a half. But you cannot possibly mean to tell me that it is too long for you to stay away from here. You cannot have travelled through the colonies only to make this your home within the matter of a few weeks." She glanced at him, and crossed her arms in front of her chest, giving him a defiant look.
"What makes you think I travelled the colonies?" She felt her temper getting the better of her, and clenched her jaws in anger. Connor assumed a calming stance.
"I just assumed…"
"Assumed I did not have a home until I got here? I never said so." She shot a glance at Achilles, but he was just leaning back in his chair, obviously not intending to interfere. Connor let out a deep sigh.
"Well, I apologize, then," he said.
She sneered at him. "Maybe you should just not make assumptions about me; it would spare you the disgrace of apologizing." In the matter of a split second his face turned from concessive to defiant.
"Or maybe you should start talking about yourself to make assumptions unnecessary. I really don't see your point in being so secretive." She did not know what to say to this. She did not because he was probably right. But she would never hand that to him. He, however, seemed quite exasperated, for he got up with so much momentum as to send the chair sliding across the wooden floor. "You know what? I don't really care what you do. Stay here if you like. But don't expect me to put up with your distrust for much longer. I don't deserve it." With that he left the room and went upstairs. Alejandra knitted her brows as she felt a strange kind of disappointment weighing down upon her.
"You should try to restrain yourself sometimes," Achilles advised. She huffed.
"It is not his business to speculate about my past," she stated, but at the same time felt she was doing him great injustice.
"Connor is not used to not being trusted, Alejandra. And justly so. Haven't you said yourself that the homesteaders seem to be so much at ease here? That is his doing. They trust him to keep them safe from harm, and he does." She drew up her shoulders and stared down at her half-eaten breakfast guiltily. Heaving a big sigh she got up and picked her way upstairs.
"Where are you going?" Achilles demanded. She stopped in the doorframe, and turned to him.
"To disgrace myself," she stated, and caught a glimpse of the old man's approving glance before proceeding. Carefully she picked her way upstairs. She heard him rummaging in his room, probably gathering his things for the journey. Taking in a deep breath and plucking up a little courage, she stepped into the doorframe and knocked against the opened door. He paused in his motions and turned to face her. His face was still filled with anger, and she tried to give him an apologetic smile. To some degree it seemed to work.
"I-" she began, and he put his arms akimbo. She grappled for words. She was not used to apologizing. "I had no right to be so-" Again she searched for something appropriate to say, her eyes searching the room – as if the right words were written onto the walls. "To be so mean." Yes, mean was probably the right word. His mien softened a bit more, leaving only small traces of his anger. Without responding, he turned back to his things. Instantly she felt her temper welling up again, but she fought it down. "May I…still come with you?" she asked timidly, having composed herself.
"You may," he said quietly, and then turned to her with a smile. "I would be pleased if you did." She returned the friendly gesture and then picked her way downstairs, intending to finish her breakfast now.
He watched her rubbing and wringing her hands, breathing warm breath onto them every once in a while. She had been doing it for quite some time now. The snowing had ceased, and the cold really was not that bad. He felt it, too, of course, but not as badly as she did it seemed. She was very absorbed in thoughts, staring ahead and trying not to stray too far from the road – if there was a road to be distinguished between all that snow really. Anyhow, she did not notice his observing her.
He decided that it was best to engage her in a little talk to distract her. "Are you cold?" She turned to him, instantly stopping her efforts to warm her hands, and straightened her back.
"I am not used to the Northern climate yet," she said with a slight smile. So she came from the South. He had suspected as much, but he did not dare to say it even now. One could never tell whether she would not make an accusation out of it he guessed.
"It is nicer in summer, to be sure," he remarked, and she smiled gratefully at him.
"My mother and I lived in the South a lot," she said, and for a moment her gaze grew distant. She seemed to dwell in her memories for a moment before resuming her talk. "We never remained in one place for long when I was very young. Then, seven years ago, we settled down in Annapolis, in the Province of Maryland. And three years ago my mother left. She said if I felt I could not do any more where I was, I should find Achilles." He mustered her for a moment, trying to discern in what kind of mood she was, what he could say now, and what he could not. He really wanted to avoid any kind of quarrel with her.
But, as chance would have it, the conversation came to an abrupt end with a slip. A slip of Alejandra's horse. It did not regain its balance and fell in a matter of seconds, Alejandra landing in the deep snow, cussing at the animal, which was trying to get up again instantly. Connor, in the meantime, got off his horse to help her up to her feet. He took her by her right arm, pulled her up and steadied her by putting his left arm on her back.
"Are you all right?" he asked, not withdrawing his support. Instead of answering him, however, she stepped towards her horse furiously, making it step back with its head raised in defense, and making him let go of her.
"Estúpida bestia! Ten cuidado donde corres!" She was gesticulating wildly, not exactly making the animal less scared of her, and dazzling Connor to the utmost. He had rarely seen such temper flaring up in a person all at once. But, as quickly as it had come, it now subsided, with a big sigh on her part. The horse seemed to notice, and lowered its head again, as if to apologize. Alejandra turned to Connor, brushing the snow off of her clothes. Her naturally tan cheeks were flushed now, and her breath a little quickened. Her hair had come loose in the fall it seemed, and she quickly gathered it and tied it back together.
"At least I am warm now," she finally said, and made him wake up from his temporary stupor. For a moment he had been caught in admiration for the beauty this short tantrum had brought with it. It was not that she was not beautiful when she was calm as well. It was just that he had not really noticed so far.
"That is good," he said with a smile, and then picked his way back to his horse. "We will soon reach the inn."
A few minutes ago they had entered the Munroe Tavern, an accommodation a little outside of Concord, towards the West. It lay on the route to his village, and they were sure of not meeting any Redcoats there. He had asked Alejandra to take a seat while he would take care of their rooms and something to eat. Just now he was turning from the counter to pick his way to the table she was sitting at – and found that the seat he was supposed to sit on was occupied.
A dirty-faced, slimy looking fellow in ragged clothes was talking to Alejandra – Connor could only imagine what it was about. He could also imagine that she was not very pleased by the company, and that, if he was not quick enough, she would soon see to it that the man had none of his teeth left to talk to any woman again. So he closed the distance between himself and the person in danger quickly, looking him straight in the face as grimly as possible. As the fellow caught a glimpse of him he got up from the seat and retreated, holding up his hands in defense.
Connor followed the man's retreat with his gaze while sitting down at the table. "I guess I just spared him a worse fate," he said bemusedly while turning his head to her. She had pursed her lips, but somehow still managed to smile. Her eyes seemed to beam – no, her whole face, in fact, was shining. She was mustering him with a strange mixture of appreciation and interest.
"It is a downright pity you scared him away. He promised me the most interesting things," she said buoyantly. He grinned, but did not care to ask any details. He was glad to be spared, in fact.
"I have rented two rooms for the night," he said.
"What do I owe you?" Immediately she got out her purse, but she stopped again as she saw his gesture to show her that it was all right. She looked at him questioningly, and he smiled.
"We live under the same roof, so I think money should be no real issue between us," he explained, and again that distrust flashed up in her face, although she quickly tried to make up for it with a smile. He, for his part, repressed a sigh, and tried to accept that it would take a long time until she could trust him. "Let us agree that the next time is on you." Her mien lit up – this time for real – and she nodded.
June
"The flowers are right up there," Prudence, one of the homesteaders, said, and pointed up at a high plateau. They – meaning Prudence, Norris, Connor and Alejandra – had come there because Norris was desperate about what sort of present to make a woman, and Prudence had suggested picking an especially beautiful bundle of wildflowers. Now those wildflowers were on top of that plateau, and Norris had asked Connor and Alejandra for help since he could not climb so well.
Alejandra still was not sure whether flowers were really the right thing for Myriam. After all, Myriam was a tough woman. But she had said nothing because she felt she did not yet have the right to discredit anybody within the homestead. If Norris wanted to give it a try she would help, of course.
"Do you want to go?" Connor asked. He really was so polite towards her all the time that it sometimes vexed her. But she knew quite well that he did his best not to irritate her. She supposed she had not made the best of impressions on him from the start, being so short-tempered. Sometimes she just could not help it though.
She smiled as an idea crossed her mind. "Let us make a race up there," she prompted, and before he could respond she was already searching for the best starting point. Having found it she began to make her way up. She found the right ledges instinctively, and advanced very quickly. However, she was aware of the fact that Connor was gaining on her fast enough, and she was not willing to let him win that easily, so she tried harder. In the end, they reached the end at the same time.
"Phew, that was nice," she panted, and Connor mustered her with a smile, breathing heavily as well.
"What ideas you have sometimes," he remarked, but she was already looking for those flowers. They really were very beautiful, and grew strong, as Prudence had said. But there was more to them. They reminded her of earlier days.
"My mother would love those," she said absent-mindedly, and settled down on a nearby tree trunk, allowing herself to get lost in a childhood memory. Connor sat down beside her quietly, and it was pleasant to just sit there for a moment, letting the early summer sun shine down upon them. "Sometimes, when she felt it was all right to take a day off, she took me on her horse – a nasty old mare – and we rode out to that one special flower field. The most beautiful flowers grew there. We picked a spray, and took it home. I loved those days." A sad smile crept onto her face, and she dwelled in the memory for a moment longer before coming back to the present by jumping up. "Well, let us get going!"
Their way back to the mansion was covered in silence. But he did not really mind. Alejandra was not the type of person to talk when there was nothing to say, and he appreciated that in her. He also appreciated moments like the one earlier, on that platform. They were rare, but they were always very sincere, and always took him by surprise. There was nothing artificial about such moments, and no acting was involved. She was herself at that moment, and though such confessions usually did not contain anything vital about her past as an Assassin, they revealed a lot about her character and made him trust her more. He was a whole lot surer of her good intentions that way than he ever could have been if she had sworn her allegiance a thousand times to him.
"Alejandra, a letter for you." Achilles had just stepped out of the mansion to welcome them. She looked quite surprised, but took the piece of paper from him, breaking the seal and unfolding it curiously. She started reading while at the same time she walked into the house. Connor was about to follow, but stopped in his steps as he heard his Indian name being called in a hurry. He turned to see his friend Kanen'tó:kon approaching.
"Kanen'tó:kon, has something happened? Is everyone all right? Has something happened?" The fear for his people had immediately taken a hold of him, and he could not get the information out of his friend quickly enough. He was panting heavily, and needed a little time to recover.
"Not yet," he finally brought forth, "Johnson is meeting with the elders at the moment. They are talking about selling the land to him again," he said as he regained his composure.
"Where? When?"
"Johnson Hall, Monmouth. We have to hurry," his friend told him. He nodded and hurried inside to get his weapons and cloak. But before descending into the cellar he passed by Alejandra, who was just folding her letter thoughtfully. "Will you come with us?" he wanted to know, hoping she would say yes. She gave him a questioning look. "My people's land is being threatened once more," he quickly explained, and she mouthed an 'Oh.'
"I am afraid I must leave," she then said, and without realizing it he abandoned his hurried plans to get into the cellar, stepping into the working room instead. He read some kind of worry in her face, and felt disappointment welling up inside himself.
"Leave? Where to?" She looked down at her letter for a moment, as if to reassure herself that she really had to go.
"A dear friend of mine has requested my presence back home," she explained, looking back up at him. "I do not know what the matter is, but it seems to be pressing." A moment's silence ensued. She looked at him with embarrassment, and bit her lower lip, what for he could not tell.
"How long will you have to stay?" he inquired, and then wondered why this was the only thing he could think of asking her. It was selfish, and not very much like him.
She drew up her shoulders. "I could not say."
"But you will come back, won't you?" The hope in his voice was so salient that it made him again wonder what the matter with him was. He really had no explanation at hand, but he felt that her permanent absence would make him unhappy somehow.
Much to his relief she flashed a smile. "Certainly," she stated, and then added, "Shall I write you monthly letters so that you don't miss me too much?" The amusement in her voice made him laugh.
"No, I don't think that will be necessary," he said lightheartedly, and with the certainty she gave him his original quest forced itself on him again.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton," his friend said, stepping into the doorframe, "We must hurry." He wished Alejandra good luck, and then turned and hurried into the cellar.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton?" Currently, the two of them were making their way through the wilderness, which was only possible at a slow pace. Johnson Hall was already in sight, and Connor was trying to make out a way to get there unseen.
"What is it?"
"What is Alejandra like?"
Connor frowned, but let himself into the question. "What is she like?"
His friend nodded. "I mean, is she more like we are, or more like the colonials?" An involuntary smirk crept to his face. Although he could not blame Kanen'tó:kon for thinking of people in such terms he thought it ridiculous to try and place her in any of those categories. But Kanen'tó:kon did not know that she was an Assassin, and was not about to find out.
"She grew up in the colonies," he gave as a reply, and then dismounted, having reached a cliff from which he could probably make his way up to Johnson Hall.
"That is a pity," Kanen'tó:kon remarked coldly. Connor wondered whether, had he told him that she had grown up with her tribe, he would have been more delighted. He supposed he would never know, and was glad he had just spared his friend the effort of trying to court her. It would have been a disaster.
July
After a week's travel Alejandra reached Annapolis. Although she had only been away for a year, the cityscape had changed. Buildings that had only had their foundations when she had left were now fully grown, and new foundations had been laid. More and more people were coming across the ocean, and more and more space was needed. Of course, Annapolis being a seaport, it was prone to rapid growth. The trade was probably prospering more than ever and with it more and more slaves were brought in. Slavery was one main reason why her mother had decided to settle down in this city.
Another reason was the family whom Alejandra was going to pay a visit now. They were friends of her mother, and during her years she had spent in Annapolis Alejandra had formed a deep, sisterly bond with the daughters of the house. The family name was Antúnez-Belmonte, and they had a quite good standing within the community, being very successful horse-breeders. Owed to that circumstance, their country estate was well outside of the city, where there was enough space for pastures and training grounds.
She rode up the path that led to the main house, and was welcomed by the man of the house himself. He was holding stretching out his arms in warm welcome and a broad smile covered his whole face.
"My dearest Alejandra! How good of you to come so quickly!" He took the reins of her horse and she dismounted.
"Basilio, I am very happy to see you so well," she said, embracing him. Formalities had never been an issue in that family – not among themselves, at any rate. Upon Basilio's call a stable boy unknown to her came running.
"Oliver, please take this formidable animal to the stables and feed it well," he ordered, and the boy hastened away with the horse. The man turned to Alejandra again and mustered her. "If it is possible, you have become even more beautiful! But what with those clothes! A fine satin dress would bring your beauty out so much better!" She laughed as she followed him into the house.
"But what kind of figure would I make on the horse in such a dress?" she joked, and he joined into the laughter. He then abruptly stopped and motioned for her to listen for a moment. From the upper rooms of the house the sound of someone playing the piano could be heard, and Alejandra's eyes widened.
"Can that be little Estela?" she asked cheerfully. He nodded.
"We are all very proud of her play. And to imagine she is only thirteen." Alejandra nodded in agreement. "But you will want to see Lucía – she asked me to send you out to her as soon as you came. She can barely wait to see you again!" His words instilled her with an incredible sense of joy. "She is in her favorite spot, reading one of those romances. You can barely miss her!"
Lucía's favorite spot was a great oak in the center of one of the many pastures surrounding the estate. On hot days like these it gave no small amount of comforting shadow, and Alejandra remembered spending many hours of her free time in summer under that tree.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" she called out loudly, and cheerfully, while walking towards the absorbed girl. Said girl immediately shot her head up, dropped her book while a big smile formed on her face, and jumped up.
"Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date…" she said, walking towards Alejandra. She tried hard to contain her hasty steps, in order not to appear too much of a romp, but failed eventually, closing the last few meters running. They embraced each other and Lucía clung to Alejandra as if for dear life.
"How much I have missed you, my dearest of all friends! You must tell me everything! Have you found a new place to live? What is it like? Do you have much to do? Are the people friendly?" Alejandra gently patted her friend's back.
"All in good time, when your whole family is assembled. I am sure they will have similar questions," she said, glad to put off the inquisition for a little longer. "First, you owe me an explanation for the seven days I have had to spend on horseback to get here."
Although the girl tried to restrain herself, her quickly flushing cheeks already signified the outbreak of joy that was to follow. It was accompanied by giggling, wild gestures towards the clear blue sky, and a shower of words that did not immediately make sense. There was something about a Mr. Bell, and horses, and intentions, and doubts and long evening walks and what not, but nothing made much sense at first.
"I am so sorry!" she exclaimed vehemently, catching for breath and fanning fresh air into her heated face. "You must think me the greatest fool!" Alejandra shook her head. A broad smile adorned the girl's face, but she was beginning to calm down. "Let me begin again," she commenced, but took some more moments to gather her faculties. "Six months ago a gentleman by the name Bell called on my father because he needed a horse and knew from hearsay that ours were the best. He seemed a very wealthy man, so my father showed him some of our finest horses. While they were busy showing and admiring, Estela and I came back from a ride."
She stopped, her cheeks becoming more flushed, and Alejandra could see another happy squeal rising in her friend's chest. She could not help sharing the abundant joy by smiling brightly. However, the squeal was fought down, and Lucía went on: "I did not at first notice Mr. Bell as particular, and only bestowed the regular courtesies on him before telling my father that my new mare was especially well bred and trained. At that moment Mr. Bell interrupted politely and asked for a show of her talents, and that I should present her. Father of course refused at first, but he insisted in such a polite, yet decided way that he could not help consenting, and I-" She let out a deep sigh, and turned her eyes to the sky.
"I could not help admiring him!" It was more a confession than a statement. Alejandra frowned because she did not wholly understand what that meant for her now. Lucía eagerly grabbed her hands and pressed them gently. "He came back frequently since then, pretending to intend buying my mare – which cannot be sold, of course – and bestowing all his attentions and kind words on me. Oh, I know what this means, and it makes me so very happy to think that such an honorable man should take so much interest in me!" Alejandra slowly nodded.
"And what exactly do you need me for, now?" she asked confusedly. Quickly Lucía turned away, biting her lower lip. When she turned back again she took in a deep breath. Her eyes were brimming with the joy of infatuation.
"I am not as sure as I should like to be!" Her face grew a little more serious, "If he proposes I want to be absolutely sure that he is an entirely good man." She violently grabbed Alejandra's hands again. "Please, Alejandra, you must make sure that he does not pretend to be in love with me because of the inheritance that is one day to be mine. And you must make sure that he does not partake in any dark affairs. I cannot marry a man who trades slaves or things of the like! You have to make sure! My happiness depends upon it!"
"Connor! Have you seen Alejandra?" Connor stopped in his step, having been on his way to the loggers to make a request for some wood for the Aquila. He turned to face Norris, who was catching up with him.
"She has gone to Annapolis," he answered drily. He was not in the best of moods these days. He had eliminated Johnson, but the deed had not brought the relief he had wanted, and had added regret to his already mixed collection of feelings.
William Johnson had claimed to have wanted to protect the land of his people from the colonials and the King. But could he trust the Templar's words? He could not tell. Achilles was sure he was not to be trusted, of course, but Connor could not help feeling that maybe there was a bit of truth in his pretended intentions. He needed someone to talk to about this, someone who was not so set on extinguishing the Templars because they were Templars.
"Oh! When will she be back?" Norris stopped beside him, his face filled with disappointment. Connor drew up his shoulders.
"I do not know. She did not know herself. What do you need her for?"
The Frenchman blushed a little, and Connor could already guess that it had something to do with Myriam. Norris heaved a big sigh. "Myriam hated the flowers! She tossed them aside! I knew she was not the type of woman for flowers! I wanted to ask Alejandra whether she had an idea what Myriam would like. She seems to be more like Myriam, don't you think?" Connor frowned. He had not yet thought about that. Sure, Alejandra was not the typical kind of woman, and neither was Myriam. Still he did not think they were very similar. "Do you have an idea what she would like for a gift?"
"Alejandra?" he asked in confusion, and Norris laughed, patting him on the back.
"No, my friend! Myriam!"
"What about me?" Both of them froze when they heard the voice of the person in question. Norris threw a desperate glance at Connor, and he turned to face Myriam with a smile.
"We just realized how similar you and Alejandra are," he said, as it was the first pretext coming to his mind. Myriam glanced at him with her arms crossed in front of her chest, and then scrutinized Norris for a moment, with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Nervously Norris rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. It was very interesting to watch this scene of interpersonal exchange. Myriam seemed to know what was cooking, but decided not to poke around anymore. Instead, she turned to Connor.
"Speaking of Alejandra, where is she? I wanted to ask her for some help with the hunting."
"She is gone to Annapolis," Norris said hastily, and Myriam raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe I can help?" Connor issued.
"Oh, no offense, but you are scaring away the game," she joked, making Connor grin. "What is she doing in Annapolis?"
He shrugged. "Helping a friend, I think."
Myriam smirked. "Let us hope it is no male friend, huh?" she said, and then left the two of them behind. Connor looked at Norris in confusion.
"What did she mean by that?" he asked worriedly. Norris laughed.
"That she might not return if the friend is some kind of love interest to Alejandra," he explained, and then went away as well, still snickering.
"But she said she would return," Connor said in disbelief, feeling a strange kind of disappointment. After all, she had proved to be a very talented companion to him.
October
"I still cannot believe you called me here as early as July when you perfectly knew that the reason for my coming was not going to be here for at least five more months!" She tried to emphasize her exasperation with a big sigh, but her efforts to take enough breath were constrained by the tight bodice belonging to the expensive gown she had been made to wear in order to go to the theatre.
Lucía rolled her eyes, as she always would when Alejandra complained about the waste of time she had to tolerate for the sake of her friend. "You know you could leave and come back in time if you have any pressing matters to attend to back north. Since you are still here, things cannot be that bad."
Alejandra pressed her lips to a thin line and looked out of the window of the coach. Yes, things were not that bad. Probably. It was this tiny 'probably' that vexed her. Maybe something had happened; maybe her help would have been needed or would be needed. So far the newspapers – which she had attended to meticulously – had reported of no unusual events in the North which would have hinted at Connor's participation. Still –
"Ah, dear me! Now I know!" Alejandra turned her head to her enlightened friend in surprise. What did she know? A mischievous grin told her that Lucía was up to something. "You have a special interest in that young native you mentioned on the sidelines! What was his name?" Alejandra's mouth dropped open with the intention of saying something, but she was too much taken by surprise to find any words. "Connor! That was his name!"
She heaved a sigh as well as she could, and rolled her eyes. She would not even try to contradict, because everything she could say was sure to be used against her. "Can it be believed! The unconquerable Miss da Costa! In love! I will tell everyone once we get home so we can visit you and your sweetheart sometime!" Alejandra gasped and now felt the heat rising to her cheeks as she imagined the embarrassment that would arise from such a visit.
Fortunately the coach now stopped in front of the theatre, forcing Lucía to stop her follies and behave. They alighted from the coach, the one's cheeks flushed with amusement, the other's with embarrassment.
"'Tis woman that seduces all Mankind
By her we first were taught the wheedling Arts;
Her very Eyes can cheat; when most she's kind,
She tricks us of our Money with our Hearts.
For her like wolves by Night we roam for Prey
And practice ev'ry Fraud to bribe her Charms;
For suits of Love, like Law, are won by Pay,
And Beauty must be fee'd into our Arms."
The play – 'The Beggar's Opera' by John Gay – had only just started, and Alejandra was very engaged with it when her attention was suddenly taken away from it because Lucía was nudging her.
"There is a gentleman in the upper ranks throwing glances at you ever so often," she whispered, and Alejandra followed her friend's gaze. When she laid eyes on the gentleman in question she immediately fixed her gaze on the stage again though, and hoped with all her might that he had not noticed her looking up at him.
Questions sprung to her mind, distracting her so much that the rest of the play was lost on her. What was he doing there? Was he not supposed to be up north to carry out his Templar plans? Had he recognized her? Did he know she was an Assassin?
A very uncomfortable feeling spread in her stomach, and she had a great desire to leave at once. But at the same time she could not, fearing to cause a commotion.
"He seems very much caught up in you. No wonder, you do look so wonderful tonight," Lucía said, but Alejandra kept her gaze fixed on the stage, and tried to find answers to her questions. "I wonder what your Connor would say to that! It would be like in the novels, a perfect love story!"
"Now where is our coach? Why is he not here, as appointed?" Lucía asked angrily, looking around. They had already waited some time for their coach, but it had not shown up. Alejandra waited patiently, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.
"Can I be of help to the ladies?" She froze as she heard the voice of the man she had been longing to avoid behind her. Lucía instantly turned to him, and curtseyed, and Alejandra fell into line to avoid suspicion. At the same time she averted her eyes though.
"Good evening sir," Lucía began politely, and Alejandra wished she would not go on, her heart beating wildly within her chest. If her friend introduced the two of them now, he would most likely recognize her. An immediate sense of danger emanated from this man, and the inconvenient clothing she was wearing did nothing to make her feel safer. "My name is Lucía Antúnez-Belmonte." He nodded.
"I know your father. Not personally, but a man of his skill is sure to have his reputation precede him. Haytham Kenway, at your service," he said with a very courteous bow. Alejandra shuddered. The man was so incredibly polite – she had noticed that the first time she had met him already – that it was hard to believe that he was a ruthless murderer.
He glanced at her, and smiled that uncanny, calculating smile, making her shiver inwardly. She wondered what his plans were, and asked herself whether it was to be put on his account that their coach had not come. "Please excuse me if I should be mistaken, but have we not met before?" She involuntarily shook her head, and flashed a smile.
"You must be mistaken. Under no circumstance could I have forgotten a face like yours, and it seems so little trusted to me," she said politely. He scrutinized her a little bit longer, thinking, and Alejandra had high hopes that her elegant attire and her pinned-up hair did enough to make him conclude that she could not possibly be the worn out, leather-clad girl he had met with a year before.
"At any rate, I would be glad to take you back home," he then prompted, turning to Lucía again, and again arising Alejandra's suspicions about his part in their situation. How did he know, after all, that they were lacking a ride home?
Lucía seemed very inclined to accept, but nevertheless threw a glance at Alejandra to reassure herself. No reassurance was given though, and for a moment the decision hung in the air. "Please, I could not possibly leave you alone here now. My honor depends upon it," he then said.
"We could not let that happen, could we?" Lucía said with played affection, and Alejandra had no other choice but to consent with a smile while her inner turmoil told her to run.
"Evening, Connor."
"Good evening, old man." Quietly he settled down at the table and helped himself to some food. "I have news," he declared after a while of sitting in silence.
"What news?"
"A couple, Oliver and Corinne, have come here, having been driven out of their home by Loyalists. They had assembled some of the homesteaders around their bonfire, and told me that they had owned an inn. The others were very keen on having an inn around here, so I asked them to stay. They have already started to make plans for it."
Achilles nodded in acknowledgement. "It is good to see the homestead grow in that way."
"And then I just met Prudence on my way back here, and she told me that she was finally pregnant. I knew it would happen when the time was right," he said triumphantly, and Achilles chuckled. "She asked me to find a doctor by the name of White. He is supposed to be in Boston. I hope I will be able to persuade him to come and live here."
"Hum," Achilles made, and then his face lit up, "I am sure you will. If anything, you are stubborn. I do not think anyone could resist your persistence in the long run." Connor frowned, not knowing whether to take this as a compliment or an offence. He shrugged it off eventually, and dwelled on his happiness about Prudence's pregnancy a little longer.
"Have you heard anything of Alejandra?"
He tilted his head aside, mustering the old man questioningly for a moment. Everyone was asking him about her lately. He shrugged, and shook his head. "No, why would I?" Achilles drew up his shoulders.
"I was just wondering whether she is all right. After all, she has been gone for quite a while now," he explained.
"I do not think that there is need to worry. She can look after herself." He was convinced that she could, after all that he had seen of her skills. Indeed, she was in no way inferior to him, except strength, but for that she made up with exceptional swiftness or by simply being stealthy enough to avoid fights altogether. Yes, he was sure she was safe. What he was not so sure about was whether she really would return. He had turned the question over in his mind a few times in the past months. He had wondered whether she would be willing to lay her life as an Assassin down for a life as a wife, and he had always come to the conclusion that this was a very absurd idea.
"Do you think Alejandra would give up her life as an Assassin?" he blurted out before he even knew it. He had already considered asking Achilles that once or twice, but had felt stupid for it and consequently dropped the idea. The old man now looked at him questioningly, and Connor regretted having asked already.
"What for?" Achilles asked in disbelief. He shrugged.
"I do not know. After all, she could have a…less dangerous life, if she wanted to." Again Achilles scrutinized him closely, narrowing his eyes. Then he began to laugh.
"If you mean a life as a wife, rest assured that this will never happen. She has a mind of her own, like her mother. She would never let herself be subdued in such a way – or any other, while we're at it."
Quietly Connor took the old man's words in, with a little bit of gratification. It was good to know that he would be able to count on her in the future. Of course he had the other assassins in Boston to assist him, but that was not the same. There was something about her that interested him, but he knew not what it was. And he feared that he was not going to find out as long as she was not there.
