Chapter 6: An INDECENT Proposal

In the course of half an hour, it was learned that the French soldiers had been separated from their regiment during a night-time skirmish with the British in Maryland, and had been trying to get back to them for days. The officer Felicity had bumped into was the men's Lieutenant, by the surname Richou, and the young blond private whom he had summoned to translate for him was named Private Lucien LaCroix, who told the Merriman ladies and Mr. Tate, "For a few days we go zis way, and zen for a few days we go zat way, and then we come to ze reever and we cross eet! Still we do not find Lafayette! Zen we find zis lovely ladee" (Here he kindly gestured toward Nan), "who eez in trouble wiz' ze Breeteesh, but zis red headed mademoiselle, she alreddy give zem what for, non?" He grinned brightly.

"Felicity!" Mrs. Merriman cried aghast. "You-you-you k-killed those two B-British soldiers by yourself?"

"Yes, Mother, I did," Felicity sighed wearily.

Nan stepped forward. "if she hadn't, they would have hurt us in unimaginable ways! She was ever so brave, Mother! I know what you're thinking-why were we out here in the first place? Because both Lissie and I noticed them prowling the grounds. Lissie was determined not to let them steal our horses, and I was determined not to let her go alone!" She lifted her chin proudly.

This proud gesture did not go unnoticed by the young blond Private LaCroix, who beheld thirteen year old Nanette Merriman in the light of the moon with an admirable smile. He himself could not have been any more than seventeeen.

Mr. Tate, holding to his forehead a once pristine hanky given to him by a Frenchman, verbally came to Felicity's support. "Ma'am, they knocked me unconscious when I found 'em in my kitchen. As far as I know there were only two of 'em, but I'd bet all of King's Creek they meant to do serious mischief, including stealing our horses!" To Felicity, he said "Miss Felicity, you have more courage than a lot of men I know. I'm obliged to you, girl."

Felicity smiled the slightest bit.

Elizabeth hugged Felicity fiercely. "Why did you not wake the rest of us?"

"No point in all of us getting set upon," she replied with a shudder she felt all the way down to the bone. "I was not about to let us become victims. Or our horses."

Nan clenched her fists at her sides. "They were rip-roaring drunk on grandfather's wines. They absolutely reeked of it!"

"Wine I can spare," Mrs. Merriman sniffed. "Daughters I cannot."

Lieutenant Richou stepped forward and smiled at Mrs. Merriman. "Madame Meree-man? On peut regarder?*"

"He wants to know if he can look around, Mother," Felicity said. "Probably wants to see if there are any more redcoats around."

"Oh yes, of course-I mean, oui, oui, bein sur,"* replied hastily to the lieutenant, blushing, for she had momentarily forgotten her French. "Nan, honey, do tell them that they are welcome here-that they may have quarter here as long as they wish, for we are glad to have them!"

Nan relayed this to the lieutenant and Private LaCroix, both of whom instantly beamed and bowed, for they as well as the rest of the men were weary from their travelling. And so it was, the soldiers were invited in to Mr. Tate's cottage, the little homes of the free black familiies that still lived and worked on the plantation, and even into the main house itself. So grateful were they, that by torchlight that very night they buried the two dead soldiers and marked their graves with stones. The lieutenant believed wholeheartedly that they had been deserters, and they would have been hung by whatever army captured them.

Nan and Elizabeth, who's French was very good, told Lieutenant Richou about Cornwallis being in Williamsburg, and Lafayette supposedly hovering just close by west of Williamsburg. This elated the men better than the food and drink that Mrs. Merriman had fetched for them, for 'twas Lafayette they had been trying to get to and join in with. Needless to say, precious little sleep was got that night.
In the house, Felicity dropped into an arm chair in the downstairs parlor while Elizabeth hastened to fetch her some cool cider in a glass. Nan sat on a cushioned stool by her, holding Felicity's hand, as they were both still quite shaken by all that had happened, but Felicity seemed to have been stupified into silence.

Mrs. Merriman was too upset to sit, so she stood behind Nan. Polly had been ordered to go back to bed, but, being plagued with Merriman curiosity (which was a powerful thing), hung out on the stairs and eavesdropped on what all was said.

"Here, Lissie, drink this," Elizabeth said softly, wrapping her dear friend's fingers around the base of the glass. She sat down on the two-seater's edge on Felicity's other side. Soft candlelight flickered in the relit lanterns.

Felicity did as instructed, but her green eyes were dark and distant, fixated on some unknown point across the room. Nan and Elizabeth exchanged uneasy looks. Mrs. Merriman stroked her eldest daughter's ponytail and said carefully, "Lissie, are you-"

"I committed murder," Felicity murmured, interrupting her mother without fully realizing it.

Mrs. Merriman inhaled shakily. "Felicity, you saved your sister's life. Mayhaps you saved us all."

Nan, too, offered support. "You stopped them from taking our horses, Grandfather's beloved stalllions. Penny and Patriot...you saved them, too."

"No...you don't understand," Felicity mumbled absently. "'Tis not the fact that I killed. 'Tis that I do not feel bad about it."

One of Martha's hands flew to her heart. Nan gulped fearfully. Elizabeth knelt down before Felicity and touched her arm in concern, but Felicity continued, "They meant to make victims out of Nan and me. That made me so angry. I couldn't allow that. Couldn't let them just hurt us and steal our animals. Never been so angry before..." She shook her head in morbid awe. "So what does that make me?" Slowly, her eyes same up to her mother's frightened ones. "I am no gentlewoman, Mother. Part of me reasons that I am no different than farmers' wives and daughters who have to defend their properties while their menfolk are gone. And then part of me sees myself as some kind of monster for not having any regret." She shook her head again. "What am I now, Mother? What am I to think of myself?"

"Lissie...oh, my brave girl." Mrs. Merriman came around and pulled Felicity up onto her arms. "You did what you thought was best! How can anyone expect more from themselves than that?" She clasped the weary girl's face in her hands. "You are to think of yourself as I do-as a young lady who values the lives of her loved ones above all else. Even gentlewomen have the right to take a stand!"

Felicity swallowed hard and said evenly, "I kept thinking of Grandfather, how he came here with wonderful dreams in his head, how he worked so very hard to make this place what it is today...all his hopes for us...the thought of anyone trying to destroy that...oh, Mother, I was just so angry! Father and William at home, forced to be living with those captains..."

"I know, child, I know." She met Felicity's eyes with firm, serious understanding. she reached for Nan on her left and Elizabeth on her right. Together they four women linked arms and Mrs. Merriman touched her forehead to Felicity's. "My husband, your father, told me recently that there comes a time when gentility must be put aside. We may be women, but we are not weaklings! We will do whatever it takes to protect our loved ones. Lissie, I knew your father took you out to show you how to use those pistols."

Felicity looked at her, stunned. "But how? You never said-you didn't try to stop him or-how?"

She gave Felicity the most tolerant, grandest of motherly smiles. "I just knew. I know your father. And I am a mother. I did not approve, mind you, but I understood. I said nothing because I convinced myself that you would have no need of that kind of knowledge, but the war has finally come upon us, and the Lord only knows if it will end soon. Now I do not care if you know the use of guns."
Nan sniffed emotionally. "Father says that war makes you a different person."

"Aye," agreed Mrs. Merriman. "Men and women alike. And no, Lissie, you are no different than any woman who has to protect her home while the menfolk are gone. You have that Merriman bravery within you strong. Use it well, love." And she kissed Felicity's forehead tenderly.

"Elizabeth," Felicity said to her friend uncertainly."The soldiers, they were British, and I-I-had to-" She couldn't finish.

But Elizabeth, sweet, understanding, sympathetic Elizabeth, smiled gently and said, "'Tis unnecessary to say, Lissie. They may have been British, but they wanted to harm you and Nan, plunder this wonderful place, and they were deserters, which means they committed an unforgiveable act against England's army- their own army! Lieutenant Richou was quite correct! They would have been hanged by whatever army caught them, or turned back over to the British army and then hung. Their fate would not have been honorable."

Felicity sighed, feeling drained and numb.

The clearing of a throat made all four ladies turn to the parlor's entrance. 'Twas the young French private/translator, LaCroix, hat in hands, bowing and smiling politely. "Pardon moi, Madame Meree-man, I just wanteed to zank you once again for ze food! Eet was, um, 'ow you say?-deeleecious? Oui! Such eggsellent leg o' lamb!" He was blushing uncontrollably, beaming, nodding, shifting, diverting his gaze from the beautiful, prim Nan, who was the one he'd really come to see, but now that he was in her presence once more, he was having such a terrible bout of nerves that he couldn't look at her directly.

"Avec plasir," replied Mrs. Merriman with a smile and a proper curtsy. "Do make yourself comfortable in one of the rooms upstairs to the left. Has your lieutenant already found a room?"

"Oui!" said the happy private. "'E ees most conteent!"

The ladies, despite all, smiled at that. Mrs. Merriman, being a mother and therefore not oblivious to the young man's shy glancing back and forth at her Nan, asked kindly, "Comment vous appelez-vous?"

"M-My name, Madame?" stuttered he, with unexpected pleasure, for only Nan and Felicity knew his name. "Private Lucien LaCroix, at your serveece! I am Lieutenant Richou's couseen. 'E can be 'arsh zometimes, but zat ees so ze men will know 'e does not favor me juz' beecause we are familee!"

Both Nan and mrs. Merriman smiled mildly, and Nan asked softly, "How long can you stay?"

Gulp! Lucien felt his face grow quite warm and he was certain that he was as rouge as a cardinal! The blue eyes of the fair young Nan were upon him, reducing him to nearly applesauce. "I do not know, Madamoiselle, eet deepeends on ze lieutenant! We must join Lafayette as zoon as poseebull, but wiz' Cornwalees in William-burg beetween us and Lafayette, I cannot zee 'ow!"

Mrs. Merriman nodded, considering that. "Mr. LaCroix, my son and husband are home in Williamsburg...my husband said he would send word to us when Cornwallis is gone and it was safe to return. Mayhaps your lieutenant would consider quartering here until then?"

"Merci, Madame Meree-man," LaCroix gushed, with a happy sparkle in his sweet brown eyes. "I shall pass ze word to ze Lieutenant! I bid you ladees a good night-or a good 'what-ees-left-of-ze-night' anyways. Reemember, ask for LaCroix when you 'ave need of anyzing! Bonne nuit!" Bowing graciously, he backed from the doorway, catching lovely Nan's considering eyes as he did, and his heart jumped. He hoped indeed that he would not have to leave this kind place and this amazing American angel before he had a chance to get to know her better!

When the private had gone, Mrs. Merriman touched Felicity's cheek. "Lissie, honey, 'twould be best if you got out of that dress and got some sleep. You and Nan sleep late. You, too, Elizabeth. The three of you go on, now."

"But what about you, Mother?" Nan asked worriedly.

"I cannot rest easy now. Perhaps later. I want to have a message ready for your father when Marcus comes again."

Felicity looked apprehensive. "Are you going to tell him what I've done?"

"No, Lissie. I believe that would be best told in person, once we are all together again. And I do not wish to include anything of importance in my message since there is always the risk that one of those captains could get ahold of it. Edward would never let that happen, anyway. He'd burn the paper first. All I want to do is send him our love." She moved over to the room's writing desk in a corner by a window. "Writing always helps ease my nerves."

Felicity not only removed her dress with haste, but once into her shift and robe, she brought the bloodied thing down to the fire in the mini-kitchen and flung it into the flames. There was no thought of even trying to wash the redcoat's blood out of it. She may not have regretted killing the soldiers, but she did want to rid herself of such a God-awful reminder of it. She and Nan stood arm-in-arm and watched it burn.

After a while of deep-thinking silence, Nan said quietly, "Felicity, I want you to teach me how to use that thing."

"What thing?" Felicity mumbled absently.

"A pistol."

What's that? Felicity raised her head, staring in surprise at her younger sister. "Nan, are you-"

"Serious?" finished Nan for her. She turned from the fire and looked Felicity in the eye. "Aye, Lissie. Even gentlewomen have a right to protect themselves. You've proven that to me this night."

Felicity touched her forehead to Nan's. "Nan, you don't have to do this..."

"No, Lissie," she said gently, firmly (as one would when one has given something much thought!). "I want to. I don't want to be a victim. So I want you to show me how to use one of those blasted things!"

"All right. But I have an even better idea."

"What's that?"

Felicity actually smiled wide. "Why don't you ask Private LaCroix to teach you?"

Nan smiled cryptically.

-Edward Merriman sighed lengthfully as he stood outside his store, taking in the shambled sight of it with more peace and thoughtfulness than his eight year old son William, who stood nervously at his father's side, believed possible. Cornwallis and the British army had been gone three days now, but they had left behind a swarm of flies and an out-break of the pox. They had taken whatever weapons they could find, whatever food they could carry, whatever horses they could get, and all the supplies they could get their hands on. Indeed, the British had done far worse damage than Benedict Arnold had!

People who were not sick were out inspecting their houses and businesses, seeing what needed repairing and replacing...if it was possible. Like Mr. Merriman was doing now. Arms crossed over his chest, head cocked consideringly, he gazed upon the building which had once been his store. The windows were completely broken out, the door was completely gone, as was the wooden stair railing along the stone steps.

He and William had been inside the store already. Hardly anything remained. There was the counter, of course, the shelves, the desk in the counting room-although that was on its side and emptied, but Edward Merriman had anticipated that kind of damage, and had therefore already removed all important items and papers from it.

He was actually surprised he still had a building in which to repair!

Oh, it hadn't been completely cleaned out. Edward knew that for a fact, and in more ways than one. The soldiers had left items mostly meant for women, like hair ribbons, corsets, powders and such, but mostly everything else had been taken, broken, or ruined in some form or another.

Edward had anticipated that.

Standing beside his father, young William felt violently angry. His father's business had been ruined! The behavior of the British soldiers made him feel hateful of anything and everything British, even though his father had told him many times over that one must'nt judge an entire people by the acts of some, that there were good and bad people everywhere. That even those in the Patriot army were abusing people and things just the same. But young Willaim did not want to believe that. Right now he hated the British and England, and wanted punishment for those who had destroyed Father's store! His young, freckled face was mad and pouty. He kicked the dirt sourly.

Edward Merriman looked at him and half-smiled, knowing all too well the things whirling around in that young heart and mind, but Mr. Merriman himself was tolerant and patient. "Something you want to say, William?"

"It's not fair!" cried he. "They ate our food, rolled about in our beds, took supplies from our cabinets-they even took Old Bess! We'll never see her again! She's not a war horse, she's old, she can't be made to move fast anymore!" Angry tears burned in his eyes. "She can't go into a battle, they'll kill her! And now we've lost the store! I hate them! I hate them all! They've ruined everything!"

Mr. Merriman inhaled deeply, put an arm around the boy's small shoulders. "I understand how you feel, son, I am angry, too. But I am not going to wallow in it, see? About Old Bess- we most likely will never see her again, 'tis true. She had been with us a good long time, long before you and Polly were born. I told Captain Digby as such when he inquired about her. Most likely all they will use her for is transport for poor Captain Wiggins, since the man cannot stay awake enough to carry himself..."

William shook his dark red head.

"But all is not lost, Will," Mr. Merrriman continued, half-smiling yet again. "Come and see."

Frowning hard but ever curious, as was the way of Merrimans, William followed his father up the steps to the store and into the shadowed building. He noted that his father seemed to look pleased about something as they went into one of the back rooms, one that was used for storing spare goods and items that had yet to be shelved and was now empty save for a couple of busted, empty crates. Light from the broken ouside windows and doorless entrance was enough for them to see by.

"But Father," William started, befuddled, "there's nothing in here!"

"Ah, Will, one cannot always trust one's eyes!" Mr. Merriman said with a grin. "Sometimes what you see is not always what is!"

Even more confused, William watched as his father got down on hands and knees, and began feeling along the dark cracks between the floor boards. "Hmm," Mr. Merriman said, as if mostly to himself, "should be just about here..."

"What should be just about there?" Will wanted to know, deeply intrigued.

"Ah-ha! Why, the hidden latch, of course! Here we are!" And as his father pulled on something down in a crack just wide enough for a man to get four fingers into, Will gaped in awe as Mr. Merriman pulled up a large section of conjoined floor boards to reveal a square-shaped black hole. A rope ladder was coiled up and pinned to the underside of the section of floor he had lain aside. Mr. Merriman began unfurling the ladder as William kneeled down beside him and leaned over the square-shaped hole so he could try to see down into it. "Whoosh!" he exclaimed. "What's down there, Father?"

Mr. Merriman grinned. "Oh, I would say about ten sacks of flour, five sacks of sugar, ten sacks of rice, some salt sacks, my spices, coffees, soaps, bowls, kettles, some of everything." He paused, watching his son's eyes grow huge. "You didn't really think I would let the British take what I didn't mind them taking, did you? What say you now?"

"That-it's-it's-"

"That's what I thought you would say," Mr. Merriman grinned. He secured the top of the ladder to two sturdy nails in the floor and let the rest of it fall into the hole. "Shall we?"

"Aye!" William went down first, easily and quickly, like a young monkey on a rope-vine. William Merriman loved to climb. He considered it good practice for when he became a sailor and had to climb stays, riggings and ratlines on his ship! When he dropped to his feet upon the hard-packed earthen floor, he stared in awe at what all the small amount of light from above allowed him to see. As his father descended, William let out a long whistle (like Felicity had taught him to do), and uttered, "It's like a miniature store down here! There's a bit of everything, just like you said!"

Mr. Merriman chuckled as he turned for a lantern and tinder box that was atop a close barrel and began to fix them up some light. "And now you know my secret-one of them, anyway! It took Haverty, Marcus and me quite a long while to make this storage. I thought we'd never get done!" With the lantern lit and casting it's glow, he hung it on a hook set in the fllorboards above them.

"But how did you know you would need all of this, Father?"

Mr. Merriman shrugged lightly. "Instinct, Will. I've been in war before and I know the hardships people and towns have to endure. When this war started I had a feeling Williamsburg would not go untouched. I have a family to protect and provide for, and a business I've worked hard to make successful. I became angry at the thoughts of my loved ones being hurt and abused, and my store raided. So I took action and made preparations."

William beamed. "And I thought the store was just running out of stuff!"

"It was," Mr. Merriman replied softly. "But I saved what I could for storage."

"Now we can clean up and reload the shelves!" William said with glee.

"You mean restock. Aye, I suppose so, but a lot of this we will share with our neighbors and people who were left nothing thanks to Cornwallis's men. We must think of those worse off than we are. We have your grandfather's plantation and hidden provisions at home! Many in this town have nothing now and need our help."

William nodded somberly. "That's what Lissie would say."

Mr. Merriman smiled. "Exactly. Now let's get back up into the store and clean up some."

As father and son swept, hammered and straightened up shelves, turning a plundered building back into a store, a lone, lavender clad figure strolled in humming through the doorless entrance and stood there just inside, head turning left to right as the small hazel eyes surveyed the scene. Reginald Forsythe smiled ever so slightly. Merriman's Store was not as bad off as some other businesses in town, but it would take some time to get it fully back like it had been.

Mr. Merriman was in the back, repairing his desk. Eight year old William Merriman was emerging with a dustpan of floor sweepings to deposit outside, when he saw the odd young lord and stopped short, mouth coming open a bit in surprise.

"Good day, little William," Forsythe said pleasantly, tapping his walking stick with the head of a greyhound absently at his side. "Is your father about?"

Startled and immediately wary, for the whole Merriman family knew Forsythe had designs on Felicity, Willaim gulped nervously, "How did you know my-?" He stopped before he could say name, but William figured it was pointless to ask. He actually didn't want to know how Forsythe knew his name. Father needed to get out here and make this fop, as Lissie called him, go away! "Fa-ther!" he called irritably, "there's someone out here to see you!" William sighed and stepped aside as he heard his father's boots on the wooden floor.

Mr. Merriman was saying curiously, "It could not be a customer-we put up a 'temporary closed' sign on the door frame!" Like William, Mr. Merriman came to an abrupt halt when he saw who it was waiting for him. The passive-faced, lavender-clad, feather-capped Forsythe, complete with gentleman's walking stick! From the young lord's casual demeanor, Mr. Merriman got the impression that General Cornwallis's occupation had not inconvenienced him in the slightest. And why should it have? The Templetons and the Forsythes were Loyalists. Many of Cornwallis's aides and senior officers quartered at Templeton Manor. Cornwallis himself had dined there at least two evenings. Forsythe had probably been as happy as a peach in a pie to rub elbows with him!

Mr. Merriman sighed stressfully, as that had become his initial reaction to the young lord's arrivals these days. "What do you want, Reginald?"

It was immensely annoying to Forsythe that a vast majority of these colonists were not inclined to address him by his title of Lord, as he would most definately been in England. He was very well aware that titles and ranks didn't seem to matter here much at all, outside of the military, anyway. 'Twas no surprise, really. The colonists were rebelling against their king, so naturally they were going to be in defiance of any Englishpersons of notable ranks. But yet his Auntie Lady Lucinda and his Uncle Lord Alexander Templeton were well respected here and treated so. It did not occur to him that his superior attitiude and spoiled manners teneded to annoy others and inspire dislike.

"Good day to you, Mr. Merriman!" Forsythe beamed, as if it were the most pleasant day of the year. "I trust I find your family and yourself well? I have not seen hide nor hair of Miss Felicity and her siblings about as of late, aside from young William, here, so I do hope all went well during our visit from the British!"

Had he been any other man, Edward Merriman would have launched a fist into the young man's skinny nose. But Mr. Merriman just stiffened, hands going to his hips in a most irritated manner as he replied, "Mr. Forsythe, what you so lightly refer to as a visit, was, as a matter of fact, an unfair seizure of this town that left many businesses ruined and innocent people without a scrap to eat. Fortunately, I was among the men who were able to evacuate their womenfolk before the soldiers arrived."

One of Forsythe's eyebrows shot up. His smile faded. "Felicity is not in Williamsburg? Wherever is she?"

William looked at his father nervously.

"With relatives," Mr. Merriman replied easily. "And she will remain so until I see that it is fit for her and the rest of my family to return. Now, Reginald...I will ask you one more time. What do you want?"

Forsythe had been momentarily distracted at the notion of his angel not being in town. He had to shake his head dismisively and return to the quest! "Mr. Merriman, I see that your business here is nearly ruined, and it angers me that my own countrymen would behave so inexcuseably..." He saw that Edward Merriman's expression was impatiently skeptical. "As I was passing by, I could not help but wonder how you will fare, seeing how supplies cannot come to you via the usual means of shipping."

Edward frowned. Something is definately not right here, he thought tightly. But he shrugged and replied, "That's true, Mr. Forsythe. My suppliers from the Caribees have been barred from doing business in the colonies, perhaps even pirated, much in thanks to your noble countrymen, but I am not without resources. You see, Reginald, that's one of the wonderful advantages of having friends: Friends help each other out, even if it means not gaining anything in return. I have reliable merchant friends in Richmond who will help in sending me supplies."

"But that will take time, Mr. Merriman," Forsythe pointed out relentlessly, with an edge in his tone, "for Richmond had been beseiged at least twice lately."

Edward shook his head, nonplussed. "Yet people pick up and continue living, no matter how difficult the situation. The war will not last forever. People adapt to change and go on, 'tis the way of things. My business has suffered, granted, but 'tis not the end of it. Only a slight delay. Now, Reginald, I have a great deal of work to do, so if you'll excuse me-"

"Mr. Merriman," Forsythe interrupted boldly, "what if I told you that you need not have to wait for supplies from Richmond? What if I told you your store could be completely repaired by the end of the week?"

Oh good Lord, Edward thought, his suspicions sounding their warning bell, here it comes...He glanced at William, who was gaping incredulously at Forsythe, then said, "Why, Reginald, if you were to tell me all of that, I would ask you if you happened to have a wizard in your employment!"

Forsythe's laugh was humorless. He leaned casually on his walking stick and replied, "Nay, Mr. Merriman, I have not a wizard, but I do have my Auntie's household staff and men at my command-" (And he did take tremendous pleasure in saying that) "-I would be more than willing to make arrangements for fast repair and arrival of supplies..." He trailed off, leaving Mr. Merriman to ponder this. He watched the older man's expression very closely, watching the thought process begin...

'Twas awfully tempting, Edward had to admit. What storekeeper would not find it so? But Forsythe wanted something. Someone, rather. For all Edward Merriman knew, Forsythe had told some of the soldiers to sack the store just so he could hang a grand reward over Edward's head and ask for...oh, no...

"That is quite a, er, generously kind gesture, Reginald," Mr. Merriman said slowly, cocking his head to the side a bit. He looked the young lord in the hazel eye. "Whatever would you want in return, as if I did not know?"

Mr. Merriman knew? A thin, knowing smile spread lazily across forsythe's thin face. Well, he should know, he thought slyly, he is not stupid-at least he better NOT be if he cares about Felicity's future! "Why, Felicity's hand in marriage, of course."

"Of course," repeated Edward Merriman, as William gasped in horror. "I assumed as such. You would not be here if you did not have some kind of plan that included my daughter."

"Indeed," replied Forsythe sikily, ignoring William's glare. "Have we a deal?"

William fully expected his father to react like an enraged bull, for if there was ever a time to do so, now would be it...wouldn't it? Surely he would!

No. Mr. Merriman, ever the level-headed, anticipating man of experience and foresight, folded his arms across his chest and kept his stern gaze unblinking upon the short young man. His voice was level and firm. "Mr. Forsythe, if you think I am going to decide Felicity's fate as though it were a business deal, you are, as usual, sadly mistaken. Again I will tell you no. My children, all of them, will be allowed a say in their futures. I would never, ever, consider you as a marriage prospect for Felicity, nor ever consent to her marrying one she does not love."

That stung. But Forsythe had been ready for that; he did not let his anger show. He raised his chin and said, "Mr. Merriman, it is very well known that young women do not always know what is best for them. They are prone to all the wrong influences, if you understand my meaning. I can give her a life most fitting a proper gentlewoman. I can win over her affections if only I were given the chance. All she needs are the proper opportunities. And yes, my gratitude would be very much extended to you and the rest of your family, as I've told you afore."

"And I've told you many times before," Mr. Merriman was quick to respond, "No. Just no. Always no. There's nothing you can do, say, or offer that will make me change my mind. Ever."

Like hell! Reginald Forsythe raged inwardly. His grip on the walking stick's handle had turned white-knuckled, his chest tight with outrage, but he merely pursed his lips, met Mr. Merriman's stare with a challenging stare of his own. Softly, he said, "I was afraid of that."

That brought Edward's suspicion level up to an all-time high. His blue eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that? If you knew what my answer would be, why would you waste both of our time? Even with your bribery?"

Forsythe's thin smile had something wickedly mysterious about it. "Because of hope, Mr. Merriman. Longing. The desire to have something precious and angellic in my life again. My need to love her is so great that I could not possibly give up so easily."

"But you have no choice, Reginald. You have to give up."

The young man cocked his head. "Amusing to hear you say such a thing, sir, after your noble oration on people who do what they must to endure."

"Surviving war and consenting to marriage are two completely different things, Reginald," Mr. Merriman told him in a tone that was nearing it's most irate yet.

"I beg to differ, good sir," Forsythe shot back with a glint in his eye. "One is just as worth fighting for as the other. Now before I take my leave of you, I must say that I am not one to give up so easily, not when the cause is worthwhile. Mayhaps Felicity will wish to me marry me herself."

Blurted William angrily, "That would never happen!"

Forsythe ignored the boy. "Nothing is set in stone here, Mr. Merriman. I cannot give up. I shall not. You may disapprove now, but in time you will see that I was the correct choice."

"No, Forsythe," Mr. Merriman said stiffly, "you are very wrong. Felicity will never choose to marry you. No matter what."

"Forgive me, sir," the young lord told him softly, half-smiling, "but 'tis you who is quite wrong. She will consent to marry me. Good day to you both." And he lifted his plummed hat to them, turned sharply on his high heel, and strolled out of the doorless entrance as if he had not a care in the world. He'd actually begun to whistle.

"Father!" William pleaded, as he followed Mr. Merriman to the door frame, "go after him! Show him you're in the right! You can't let him take Lissie away from us!"

Mr. Merriman was silent, tight-lipped, his face a miriad of expressions ranging from sheer fury to burning frustration. After an extremely long moment as full of tension as the summer air was full of humidity, Edward Merriman exhaled, albeit heavily. His angry eyes were watching Forsythe's lavender back going down Duke of Gloucester Street. Finally, he said to William, "Don't worry, Will. That is not going to happen."

"He's a menace, Father," growled William, glaring daggers at Forsythe's back. "Felicity would never choose to marry that creepy purple poppinjay! She's waiting for Ben!"

"Mayhaps," Mr. Merriman murmured, not really hearing his son's statements, but instead trying to anticipate what Forsythe's next move was going to be. His gut instincts told him the bizarre young lord was not just going to walk away from this matter. Oh no, not by any means. He inhaled sharply. "He'll have Felicity over my dead body."

William looked at his father nervously.

She's just sixteen years old, Leave her alone they say. Separated by fools, who don't know what love is yet.
But I want you to know, if I could fly,
I'd pick you up, I'd take you into the night, And show you a love like you've never seen, ever seen...

Excerpt from 'Into the Night' by Benny Mardones.