Chapter 10:
Lillian awoke the next morning after having one of the deepest sleeps she's had in a while. It was because she felt safe with having her father near once more.
The door opening without warning made her reach startled for her blanket, covering herself in her nightgown and messy morning hair, but relaxing when it is her father with Maria, who had a plate of breakfast for her.
"You scared me, I thought someone was coming in when they weren't supposed to," she says pushing the sheets off of her, and sitting up in her bed..
"I'm sorry, I thought you'd be dressed by then, eager to start the day," her father said walking over to the one window in her room overlooking a corner of the camp.
"Believe me I am, but the travel wore me out. And finally sleeping in an actual bed has me very comfortable. The carriage was like being crammed inside a pumpkin with wheels, except with more cushion and no funny smells."
Her father shook his head amusedly, holding back laughter, "You are something else, my sweet lilly."
"You're telling me, sir," Maria smiles, helping Lillian up from bed and taking her to sit at a desk to eat breakfast.
Her father told her the meeting would take place after a hanging, making her almost choke on her bacon.
"A hanging? For what crime?" She asks wide eyed, hardly expecting him to tell her this.
"One of my men was accused of breaking into someone's house, and robbing them. You may hear the preceding if you happen to be downstairs, but I do not wish for you to see the aftermath. I'll have Mr. Sackett keep you away from the front windows."
She swallowed; pitying the soldier—wait not a soldier because a soldier doesn't act so. She still pity's the man, thinking what would he rob? Was it for life or death? But she wouldn't question her father's judgement. He doesn't need robbers in his army, or anyone so bold to act inappropriately, or someone just too bold. He is ensuring the safety of all.
"Who is Mr. Sackett?" She asks, taking another bite of bacon, clutching her robe around her tighter feeling a draft through the floorboards.
"Someone I will introduce you to as soon as you get dressed, before I head outside to tend to my horse, and the sentence," he answers, taking out his pocket watch and looking down at the time. "Real soon."
"Yes father," she says, standing up from her seat, and waits for her father to exit the room and have Maria shut the door before she takes off her robe, throwing it on the made bed, and slides off the cotton nightgown for Maria to begin putting on her corset.
"You must look your best for this meeting, and for the duration of your stay, being around all these men," Maria says almost apologetically, because she knows Lilly doesn't favor the fancy corsets she is being put in now, and being around so many men. "But on the bright side it is a chance to present yourself to your people."
"My people?" Lillian turns her head around with confusion. "You speak as if I'm some princess, or Queen."
Maria laughs, "Your fellow patriots. In a sense you are a princess, being George Washington's daughter."
Lillian found herself smiling like a little girl, "I guess so. But I'm not sure if I like being called that, given that we're trying to steer away from tyranny of King George."
"True," she says. "But there will always be princesses in the world. And princes."
Lillian's smile drops like a plate to the floor, "I'm here for my father. No other man, my prince will come one day- Ow!"
Maria pulled the strings of the corset so tightly; Lilly forgot what they were just talking about.
"Be sure to leave some breathing room. At least give me that, for some comfort in this camp," she tells her friend who loosens the corset just enough for her lungs and stomach to not be sucked in.
"And I know I'm presenting myself, but I'd rather not present these two parts of me as well," Lilian adds cupping her hands under her breasts and pushing them up, simply showing how much the corset is showing and eyeing the low scoop dress.
"Of course. But you can't look like a prude. Your mother's orders."
"But I am a prude," Lillian narrows her eyes at her reflection in the vanity mirror. "I'm not here to rake up lovers. Follow my orders to make some quick pin-ups on the neckline, I am no tavern wench."
Maria outright laughs, "You are not a prude! And yes, I will make a little adjustment, gladly."
"Thank you."
My father was standing at the foot of the stairs, smiling and nodding in approval of my choice in gown. A gold gown with ivory brocade underneath the gold robe a la francaise, faded floral designs within the fabric, a corseted jacket/bodice with a separate skirt worn over pannier supports, round neckline that barely shows the tops of my cleavage after being pinned, and the sleeves are quarter length with scalloped edges and lace trimming… Definitely one of the finest I ever worn. Perhaps too fine for being in a camp, but I must look presentable, being the Commander's daughter and to show my wealth according to society's expectations. I'll have another day, hopefully this afternoon, to dress more casual so I can attend to the sick soldiers. At least if my father allows me, I haven't been given the chance to ask.
My hair is pulled into an up-do, leaving one wavy lock to fall over my left shoulder, enough hair to make it look like my hair is half down. For some reason, I never liked a complete up-do and having an all exposed neck. I feel like a man if I had all of my hair up.
"You look lovely, Lilly," My father smiles down at me, offering me his arm.
"Thank you," I smile up at him, taking his arm, letting him lead me around the corner, and into the parlor filled with maps, scattered chairs, and chess pieces. In the adjoining room is a man with curly dark brown hair, wearing round glasses, scribbling away on some parchment with his quill, not looking up.
"Mr. Nathaniel Sackett, I have someone I would like you to meet," My father says in his breathy, calm voice.
The man looks up from his paper, and stands abruptly from his chair almost knocking it over, causing me to jump back a little at the speed of his movement.
"Ah, a-ha!" He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear, and bowing, with one arm in front of him, and the other behind his back, like she is a princess. Thanks Maria. "Miss Lillian Washington, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, at last. I've been anxiously waiting to meet you, and speak with you."
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Sackett," she couldn't help herself but to let out a little laugh. "I guess I've been waiting to meet you too?"
"You haven't told her of me?" Mr. Sackett looks to my father, his eyes quickly looking back to me with an appreciative hum as he looked me up and down in a very gentlemanly fashion, nothing about the movement inappropriate.
"No I'm afraid not. The timing of her departure, and your recent arrival a month ago didn't allow me the chance of writing a letter to be received by her in time. Lillian, Nathaniel Sackett is of the Committee to Detect and Defeat Conspiracies."
"No way," she exhales in disbelief. "The real honor is to make of your acquaintance, Mr. Sackett."
The man laughs wholeheartedly, "Thank you, my dear. It is great someone else in this camp other than your father appreciates my work. Work in which I'll be discussing with you momentarily, that is if we are truly acquaintances given that we just met. Your father told me much of you already and your spirit for helping the cause, and by the sounds of it, you don't have any friends, and few acquaintances."
I was speechless at his words, going from warming, to a seriousness I wasn't expecting. Even my father looked towards me with a look, to respond to him. He only made the air denser, thanks father.
"You are correct, partly. My only one friend is my family's servant. I am very picky of who my friends are," I answer in all honesty.
He remains silent, as if he is waiting for me to continue, but I have nothing else on my mind to say.
"Good, this makes things easier. The less friends you have, the more you get done," he tilts his head down, looking at me from under his glasses. I suppose. Sometimes you need help, but I guess he means to not be distracted? Then that is true.
He continues on, what I thought was rambling to himself, when he was actually talking to me—"I still can't believe a woman with not many friends, does not gossip, and has a brain is in the same room as me. Where have you been all my life?"
"I'll leave you in his care for the hour being. Be sure she doesn't go to the front of the house," My father looks at Mr. Sackett at his last message, as if not hearing what Mr. Sackett was saying, and the man responds with a simple nod, sifting through some papers.
"I'll see you soon with the company of two other men, I take my leave now," He voices, parting the room in his entire blue coat glory, with thick golden epaulettes signifying his rank as Commander and Chief, and his brown graying hair is plaited neatly with its ribbon and tricorn hat.
After taking in my father's great appearance, I look at Mr. Sackett, refilling his ink and organizing his papers. I listened to my father grab his cloak, the silence meaning he was putting it on, and then he opened the door, and shut it behind him with a loud thud because the wind caught it.
"I apologize for what I said earlier, about you not having any friends. I should have at least worded it differently. It isn't your fault you don't, my lady," he looks up at me from his place in his chair, with a regretful look on his face.
"Actually it is. I push them away, mostly, I'm afraid to admit. Other times they just leave me, I've always been left alone, which is probably for the better so no one gets hurt," I sum up with a sad smile that he returns.
"There's the good and bad in everything, in everyone. But I fail to see what is a bad quality about you," he leaves his sentence hanging, waiting for me to speak. He wants to know me, to see if I'm valuable and worthy of such a task as spying.
"I think me as a whole is considered bad," this statement made him stifle his laugh, he covered it with a cough. "My intelligence, what others call it, is considered prodigious, higher than many women and some men. It's what makes me, me," I explain, as I take a seat he offered to me, across from him. "It scares off people and as you can imagine suitors."
"Your father has no problem with that I imagine."
I let out a dry laugh, "No he doesn't."
"It was said to me you went to college?" He asks, with a satisfied nod for my previous answers, before turning back around to writing at his desk, scratching and scribbling loudly. I wasn't sure if it was out of habit, rushing, or that he didn't have enough ink on his quill, but I found myself liking it, taking away from the quiet atmosphere leaving me to my thoughts, thinking of my next words.
"Yes, University of the State of Pennsylvania, a bachelor's degree in nursing," I answer with a smile, feeling proudness swirl in me, because it's an uncommon answer for women to have. "The first college to offer a medical education."
"The college Benjamin Franklin established. His ideas found a receptive audience in the prominent men of Philadelphia, who saw a need to prepare young men to lead the government and businesses of their growing city, the largest in the American colonies. And they accepted you?" He looked at me interestedly.
"Yes, because they were the only ones who accepted me, and it helped that I wanted to be a nurse, a role suited for a lady in their eyes. And my last name may have made them reconsider, as well as my father's letter to the headmaster, saying I've been to school since I was young, and my tutors said I demonstrated a good aptitude for further education, and had the gift to heal, whatever that may mean."
"Gift to heal…What did you study?"
"The basics," I sum it up. "Treating wounds, medicine prescribing, some surgery on surface wounds, healing the sick—my main focus was studying blood."
"Very interesting," he hums. "Blood is a part of everything, and everyone. I was told of your theory paper, I believe a congratulations are in order, and for your degree, I am impressed, Miss Lillian. I'll have to read that essay of yours one day."
"Thank you," I nod my head shyly, showing gratitude for his praise. It was then the world fell to silence outside, and it caused the both of us to look towards the front of the house.
"It's starting," He said, returning to the papers. I found myself blinking away unshed tears. What a horrible, unhuman way to die.
"I won't hear anything will I?" I ask, and Mr. Sackett quickly looks up at me reverentially.
"Sit further in the corner over there; the wall will block any further sounds. I forgot you have good hearing too," he says, pointing to the corner of the room we're in.
"My father told you everything about me hasn't he?" I ask, bringing my chair over towards the corner, and I sit feeling a little safer.
"Just about, yes. But that is one of the greatest mysteries in the world. Someone can tell you all about a person, through their eyes, but one never truly knows them until they get to know them. There are always things left under the surface, and left unsaid," he says very wisely, making me like him more.
"Your words are so true," I say. "I hope as you further get to know me I don't push you away as well."
Mr. Sackett looks back at me, with narrowed eyes, as if he were about to speak, but the door to the house opens, and I recognize my father's familiar footfalls, and more feet following in behind him.
"We'll continue our personal discussion, later," Mr. Sackett faces back to his desk, adjusting his glasses with a determined frown.
General Scott and Captain Tallmadge stood in front of a table filled with maps and a chessboard with every piece in its pregame stage. Scott was the first to notice, almost having to rub his eyes if what he was seeing was real: a civilian sitting in the next room over, writing at a desk. A more paranoid part of him thought him to be writing everything that has been said so far. He was practically in the same room as them during a court martial!
"Gentleman," their Excellency pulls back a chair, screeching across the dirty wooden floor, but doesn't sit down, resting his hand in front of him colonially.
Washington notices his General's point of focus, half expecting his daughter to be there, but faintly smiling seeing it was only Sackett causing him to appear so taken aback.
Smile fading, as if it wasn't even there to begin with, "This man is Nathaniel Sackett of the Committee to Detect and Defeat Conspiracies against America," Washington explains in his breathy clear and precise tone.
"Sir," General Scott interrupts. "The presence of a civilian at a court martial is highly irregular-"
"-As I agree Charles," Washington states. "Now would you be so kind as to brief the room on the intelligence uncovered at Trenton."
"Brief the room?" Scott asks dumbfounded.
"Myself included," Washington looks down impatiently waiting for him to speak, and wondering where his daughter is, but she will be introduced at the right timing. And my daughter is also included.
"An examination of orders discovered in the desk of Colonel Rowe suggests that what we took from the Hessians' was much more than a winter camp. Trenton was being prepared as a launch point for attack on Philadelphia."
"I know what Howe wants," George asks himself in a hushed undertone, looking down at his map of the states pensively, pointedly at New Jersey. "But Howe would have to get by that…"
"Decapitate New England from the rest of our colonies," George continues, and setting a chess piece above his desired location, Benjamin looks on in silence the whole time, eyes glistening with a mixture of confusion, awe, and light doubt. Once he felt doubt, he quickly regained his blank composure, he shouldn't have any doubt especially in front of his Commander, what is he thinking.
"We have until the snow melts before their forces in New York begin to move."
Benjamin looks back up from the map to his Commander's face, in continued awe at his quick strategic planning, but most of what he is saying is easier said than done. Then, no one said winning America's independence would be easy.
"New York which remains dark to us," Washington wistfully says.
"Sir, I have just dispatched new scouts to observe the enemy-" Scott silences and closes his eyes at his Excellency interrupting, with heated irascibility.
"I grow weary of contradictory accounts that merely guess at the intent of the enemy," Washington's voice rose to a high level until quickly lowering back to his neutral tone.
General Scott, used to such emotion being lashed out, looks down realizing his mistakes, while Benjamin looks flabbergasted at witnessing his Commander release a tension he has been holding back for obviously a while now. He was slightly relieved that nothing about his court martial was mentioned yet; he kept hoping it'd keep being delayed and possibly forgotten- he inwardly shakes his head. That is little boy talk from trying to avoid a chat with his father on proper behavior. If the surprise didn't stop here, it only grew when both men's ears perked up at Washington's next words.
"I shouldn't have reacted as I have. There is a lady in the room who hasn't made her presence known until now," George says glancing behind him at the adjoining room Sackett is in, having heard her breathing in the corner of the room.
"I apologize, Lillian."
"There is nothing to apologize for, you hardly ever lose your temper," Lillian enters the doorway, glancing a smile at Mr. Sackett who quit writing his paper at his Excellency's voice, looking up at Lillian with a knowing smirk, but continued writing after the thick air around them all lessened.
"If anything I apologize for not holding my breath better," her light pink lips quirk up into a little smile before returning back to her perceptive face.
She walked slowly into the parlor like she was floating across the wooden floorboards, and both men found themselves at a loss for words; especially the young Captain who is not far from her age is what he realizes first, the second is that she is enchanting: She has a sculpted figure which was twine-thin, encased in a golden and ivory dress, like royalty. Her waist was tapered and she had a burnished complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose. A set of dazzling, angel-white teeth gleamed when he saw her flash that small smile to her father. It is a pleasure not just to see that smile, but to see such flowing, golden brown hair not pinned up in the hugest, popular hairstyle. Her enticing, big doe brown eyes gazed at him over her heart shaped lips…
The third thing he was wondering, what is she doing here? At my court martial? At an encampment full of men? Who is this woman?
His thoughts were immediately answered.
"Captain Tallmadge, may I introduce my daughter Lillian. Lillian, Captain Tallmadge," George looks to the Captain in acknowledging.
"Miss Washington," Tallmadge bows, covering his amazement by the hardest, feeling soldierly doing so in front of a lady as she, but he felt awkward, he rarely- if not ever bowed to a woman, if he did, it was only to two: one from the house him and his General boarded at with Simcoe as prisoner recently, and the other woman an old librarian for going through the trouble of handing him a book when they passed through a town.
"Captain," she curtsied shortly in kind, but he had to control his eyes from wandering too far down her tall, dainty form. "And General Scott, it is wonderful to see you again, at a court martial." Lilly directed her last words towards her father who only gave her the look 'you'll find out soon.'
"You as well Miss Lillian," Scott responds, with a swallow, and glancing back towards his Commander, and sending a subtle glower at his Captain who is still staring at the woman with his undivided interest. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Benjamin's immodest staring.
"This letter written by your man on Long Island-" Washington continues the talk, looking pointedly at the Captain now, who quickly diverts his eyes to his Excellency's with a dry throat praying he wasn't ogling too long, but before Ben could answer, his General interrupts once more.
"That letter was not received through the proper channel-"
"Which is why I paid it no mind," Washington looks at the General with a pointed look now. "There's a lone reporter unconfirmed until our victories at Trenton and Princeton proved it to be accurate."
"More accurate than any other piece of intelligence we received thus far at least, since Lillian's intel on Dorchester. A year ago," Sackett speaks up from his desk.
Lilian let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and felt all eyes on her, a certain pair of a General, who was looking blatant at her out of disbelief.
"After I gave you orders- after your father gave your orders to quit, you do so anyway?" Scott questioned her rather vocally.
"Yes, yes I did. A good thing I did to not give up on a role that fits me rather impeccably, if I may be so bold, General. And may I add, he encouraged my efforts once more, allowing me permission to do as I wish."
"True. Now may I ask, how did you come by this intelligence on Dorchester, one of our proud victories, my daughter? If you would now brief the room," her father looks at her expectantly.
She folds her hands together in the front of her, relaxing her nerves and thankful her father is here in case she says something she shouldn't. This is information from over a year ago… Why? She now wonders.
"Well, I certainly didn't come by this intelligence by observing the enemy, I don't have much interest in that, to be honest," she states, glancing at the General who only bows his head with a sardonic smile.
"I can't imagine why," Mr. Sackett says aloud with an accidental escaped laugh he covered with a cough.
"But since the war began, I've had contacts I've been communicating with, two in particular, and one of those is in the heart of a British controlled town, the one who found the information on Dorchester. They listened in one of the higher up discussions."
"A civilian?" Mr. Sackett asked from behind her, now standing against the doorway.
"I guess-they could be called that, yes," she caught herself from saying 'he'. She mustn't reveal who it is. Baker. Ensign Baker of the British militia who is secretly a patriot. "The rest is as I said earlier, we communicate in letters, and when they get the information, they send it to me, and in turn I give it to my father, now more securely than before. The interception of Bunker Hill intelligence will forever make me feel guilty."
"Bunker Hill?" The young, silent officer finally speaks, but at the same time as his General causing an awkward pause of silence. They both bow their heads in apology for interjecting one another accidentally.
She gazes at the Captain during his and her father's brief exchange, her mind ringing with disgust because he wrote the inappropriate letter to her, but her face is polite and reserved for the sake of being in the presence of her father and a General. Also, she didn't want to call the young man out on it just yet, still putting the pieces together and figuring out what type of man he is. He can be stereotyped as a 'pretty boy,' though.
"Yes, Captain Tallmadge. I was surprised myself when I received the important contents on that information. How much the outcome would've been different if my letter came through.."
"As I keep telling you, about feeling guilty, do not. The past is already written, and now we can only move on, improving every day," her father looks down at her with a pleased look, meaning she said everything she was supposed to.
"Gentlemen," Washington continues, turning to the two men in front of him, still staggered at what this supposed to be court martial turned out be. "I've asked you hear today to determine if this, the letter from the man on Long Island, was a fluke, and perhaps more importantly if this fluke can be repeated."
"I can perfectly assure you, sir, you will be perfectly convinced of my friend's integrity and loyalty," Captain Tallmadge says breaking the long silence after my father's previous words.
"Well according to you he took an oath of loyalty to King George," General Scott claims emphasizing King George, looking over Captain Tallmadge's shoulder with a glower. Lillian thinks: sounds similar to what Baker did, but she wasn't sure of any oath. He must have in order to be a true British soldier.
The Captain grips his helmet resting in his left arm, "Only to get closer to the enemy, to learn their secrets."
"Traditional military reconnaissance is a proven discipline. Multiple scouts produce multiple reports which may be cross referenced to ensure verification. In addition soldiers are trained to recognize-"
"Actually, soldier's make terrible spies," Mr. Sackett's placid voice breaks in. "All that discipline drilled into their movements makes them easier to spot unlike us civilians." Mr. Sackett comes to a stand next to Lillian, nodding his head at her when he said 'civilians.'
Lillian raises her hand half way to break into the discussion once more, "Also a common error, as my father mentioned earlier on observing the enemy, it is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts. A lie? It depends on the person and how well they cover it up, but I believe lying can be a military offensive just as well."
The room was so silent a whole British militia could pass by without noticing them. The three men only stared at her, the General with his jaw slacked, she noted, and Captain Tallmadge seemed to confirm her statements as true with his eyes, glistening with respect for her? Her father was looking down at his feet. Either he is proud of me, or I am speaking too much. Sorry if I acted wrongly, father.
She adds lastly, feeling disquiet, but did well to keep it out of her voice, "And a soldier's exposure to the cruelty of war, no matter how trained he may be, can without a doubt deter their minds from reality slowly, and when given orders to merely observe the enemy, they can take that for granted."
"Well said Miss Lillian," Mr. Sackett praises her and she returns a sweet smile.
"You as well Mr. Sackett."
"Excuse me, sir and Miss," General Scott hisses. "But why, exactly, are you in this room?"
Lillian sucked in an accidental loud breath at the General's words, clearly he is not thinking clearly.
"We've been invited here by your Commander and Chief to opine on the business at hand," Mr. Sackett places his hands on his hips in a relaxed, thinking manner.
Lillian's father, who was still looking down at his feet during the unpleasant exchange of words, finally turns to the General and explains in his breathy voice once more, "Mr. Sackett came to us by way of William Durr and commended him as a person of intrigue and secrecy. As for Lillian: being my daughter and I personally commend her to be a person of secrecy as well. That should be enough reason for my reason is my own, General. You're not the only one looking out for all."
"In speaking of intrigue, I must say I find this young man's chain of agents very intriguing," Mr. Sackett looks at the Captain in well interested regard.
"I want this chain notion explored," Washington orders. "And presented upon my return, any questions?"
The two officers were stumbling over their words, unsure of what to say, until the Captain nods his head, and begins to ask:
"Well, yes your Excellency. The letter I transcribed regarding the Hessians' in Trenton, it was unsigned. I mean to ask how did you come by the name Abraham Woodhull?"
"Excellent question," Washington looks at the Captain with a light smile. "And for you, Mr. Sackett?"
"Plenty, but not for you sir," Mr. Sackett says at his writing desk once more, writing with his quill.
"Ah," Washington hums, taking this as his cue to leave, and he goes without another word out the door. The door clicks shut with squeaky hinges, leaving the General, Captain, Mr. Sackett, and Lillian alone.
Lillian holds back her laughter with a knowing look at the Captain who stares at the door like a confused puppy for her father not answering his question.
"He means to answer your question on a later date, Captain," Lillian informs the young man who snaps his gaze to her the moment he heard her light melodic voice. "He always says that when he isn't willing to give away his true thoughts and reasons."
Her eyes met his like a diver into blue unknown waters, both full of curiosity. Benjamin, however, noted she watched him like a hawk the entire time, as if she knew something he didn't, and this unnerved him slightly.
What no one knew, however, was that the meeting would drag on throughout the day and into nightfall.
A/N: *laughs hysterically* two updates in a day?! UNBELIEVABLE! Finally this interaction happened as I always dreamed. I hope you all enjoyed! Please review! Thanks! Stay tuned for Chapter 11.
-BrownEyedGirl87