Always Remember Us This Way

by BrownEyedGirl87

In the heart of British occupied New York, Quaker-Spy Robert Townsend is greatly motivated to protect what he holds dear, his father, and his beloved wife Elizabeth 'Lizzy' Carroll. As they witness and silently partake in the cause in York City, they also fight to keep their marriage aflame—though they may have to make a greater sacrifice… Robert Townsend/OC

10. Chapter 10: Many Mickles Make a Muckle

Chapter 10: Many Mickles Make a Muckle

…

'You will walk. And you will not turn. You will not speak, unless spoken to. You will walk.' These were the words her mother Mary Carroll repeated on a loop when she was learning etiquette at the young age of ten. These words are what she always reminded herself of every time she set foot out of the safety of home and into society. She was wisely prepared to be an upper-class lady fit for the city as much as she was prepared to be a lower-class wife—which would consist of running the house by herself, mending clothes, making clothes and candles, and preparing food. As it would turn out, the woman would somehow do all these things still no matter who they were.

In this particular setting, the streets of York City and without her husband walking beside her, these rules of etiquette were of safety now in the rippling sea of redcoats or crooks especially closer to Holy Ground where the larger market inconveniently was. Elizabeth gracefully trod along all the way from the busy, gloomy market to the finer business street keeping to herself with her eyes straight. She was almost back to Rivington's, and as her mother's words sat in her mind every day, she was reminded how much she misses her parents and siblings. Last year her mother welcomed another child into the world; Elizabeth's second little sister and third born after a brother.

And she has not borne a single one in her early twenties. At this rate, her first child would be the same age as her youngest sibling! Perhaps that is what happens when a father is older and they too had lost children over the course of their marriage, and Elizabeth was their only surviving child into adulthood for the longest time.

I will walk. And I will not turn. I will not speak. I will walk… I will have children… She not only began to think optimistic thoughts hoping they would come to fruition, but she began to see familiar faces, especially what looked to be a group of notaries who frequented the coffeeshop either early in the morning or late in the evening. The men dressed in almost all black turned their necks as they passed her and offered her a slight inclination of their heads with convivial expressions. Of course, she returned the gesture politely.

She walked close to the buildings. To her left was Hercules Mulligan's Haberdashery for men's clothes. Typically, she would stop in to say hello or drop off some pastries for the man who is her and her family's friend as well as on Robert's side. But stopping her from even glancing to the shop windows was the sight of a group of men talking to a tall officer right outside the windows of Rivington's.

Elizabeth kept her face pleasant, yet without a smile, and her focus on the entrance to the coffeehouse before a man's gentle, logical voice called to her.

"Mrs. Townsend!" The officer approached her as she slowed to a stop in front of the coffeehouse. Major Andre... the man Robert played draughts with.

"Sir, I believe we have not met," she responded with a dip of her head as he made it to stand before her. Elizabeth couldn't help the reflex to hold her basket closer to her chest.

"No, we have not. Major John Andre, at your service," he bowed with a kind smile somewhat easing her nerves. Her sharp eye caught the oddly short braid dangling above his ear swayed as he moved his head and clasped his hands behind his back. She darted her eyes to his warm blue ones before he would notice. "I frequent Rivington's and your husband's fine establishment."

"Oh, of course. Major, please call me Elizabeth. That's wonderful to hear you think so," she paused, unsure of what to say to this other than remaining calm and neutral.

He looked pleased to hear this. After narrowing his eyes for a split second, Andre inquired, "Where are you heading back from?"

"I'm returning home from church." For some reason she gestured to the building, or the upper level of it where her and Robert lived. Andre smirked as he briefly glanced to the building then returned respectable eye contact with her. "I like to attend the morning service so I can get more things done throughout the day. Tedious chores and such."

The man was forming his next words as movement caught Elizabeth's eye. The rough looking men who Andre was speaking to, save for one redcoat who had a scar on his face, were standing around some feet away waiting for Andre to return to them. She mistakenly made eye contact with the young, roguish and scarred one who eyed her contemplatively.

All in those brief seconds, Elizabeth darted her attentions back to Andre. She added before he could formulate words, "I do hope I'm not keeping you from your work."

"Not at all. In fact, I've been looking for an excuse to speak with you." He sent a sharp look to the men still hovering around. "I would like to say I had the privilege to speak with your husband over a game of draughts some nights ago. He is a bright man bringing his vision to fruition. And while we spoke, I inquired of your role in his life as I didn't know you both were married. I rarely see commitment in my regiment."

"Role… as in his wife?" She asked, biting back an amused scoff.

"His confidant." The word rolled off his tongue like a French snake.

Elizabeth stopped breathing but forced herself to stare curiously at him still. Does he know? The kindness still shone in the man's eyes not giving away any doubts or suspicions of her or Robert, but there was a spec of some kind of admiration or wistfulness she couldn't quite place.

"Someone he trusts with all that he is. His only source of independence and happiness he'll ever need, were his words," Andre exhaled with a slow nod of his head. "Forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable, but it's the truth. You remind me of someone I hold dear to my heart, who I may never hope to see again. His and your differences are much like mine and hers… except you have each other entirely. Mr. Townsend is a very lucky man as he will be a very successful entrepreneur should he play his cards right, which I deem he will. Mrs. Elizabeth, I merely hope you're always aware of your position in all that he does."

Somehow Elizabeth thought that these words were meant to be spoken to the woman who has this man's heart. That beautiful compliment, or monologue more like, were hitting two birds with one stone. They're words Andre wished to tell to this unknown woman himself but couldn't, and he is a fine, respectable officer who goes out of his way to pay a kind word or gesture.

He finished with, "My exchange with your pacifist husband the other night merely brought to my attention of the cause we're all fighting, and he is playing his part exceptionally. Forgive me for keeping you, I shall see you next time I'm at Rivington's, Mrs. Townsend."

"I'm very heartened and pleased to hear that. Thank you Major," Elizabeth smiled warmly and bowing her head gently. A couple tears blurred her sight as she made to part from him.

"Madam." He bowed his head one final time and returned to his men.

Robert certainly is playing his part exceptionally… Elizabeth blinked the tears out of her eyes as she headed for the steps of the business and greeted Tommy once more. She was deeply aware some redcoats were gentleman, but never did she expect the British Head of Intelligence to be so genuine or so sure of everything. She crossed the threshold with her eyes focused at the foot of the bar lost to her thoughts, hearing Rivington's voice die off as he descended down to his press.

After she placed her basket on the counter to gather herself, Robert stepped into her line of vision holding a pitcher in his hand.

He slightly raised a brow and gestured with his free hand towards the window by the billiards table, "What was that?"

"You stopped what you were doing to see all of that?"

"I was refilling drinks to the men shooting holes," Robert momentarily looked over his shoulder to the men as he replied to her, "then I glanced at the red gathered outside and saw you returning." His face was calmer than how he normally looks, but the sheen of anxiety had his eyes so dark.

"Major Andre introduced himself," Elizabeth whispered. "He mentioned your meeting and how he expressed to make his introductions with me as well. Why was he interested in my role in your life?" Robert glanced meekly to his feet. "Surely my role is no different from any other?"

"I may have poetically expressed how much you affect my actions. He is a respectable man despite and knows we're Quaker, but surprised to learn about you. Then he was getting around to matters of the heart so what a better topic than you. He has a woman on his mind that's affecting him, did he mention her to you?"

"Sort of," she blinked seeing some customers leave, even calling over to Robert 'add it to the bill, we'll be back!,' "Well, all that explains his earnest words to me, but I didn't appreciate the look his fellow man had—" she silenced when a few of the servers walked past them, one going behind the counter. Robert placed the pitcher down after taking one long glance around the establishment before taking her hand, leading her to the kitchens.

Once they were back there, and one of the cooks saw they needed some privacy, he escorted himself out for the moment. She shook her head as she whispered secretively, "Robert, he may be suspicious of us. Your poetic side does not affect men as well as the opposite sex."

He scoffed, "Not by my account for both. He's a reasonable man and knows I'm well to do. As long as you're sweet and neutral, then we'll maintain our plain image."

Elizabeth nodded knowingly, their hand holding went limp returning to their sides. "He did compliment you highly," she murmured.

"Why do you look troubled still?" Robert concernedly asked.

"You obviously know he's a gentleman, right? And well-liked. It was just what he said how you're playing your part exceptionally well. Little does he know it's not so exceptional on his part."

Robert's mouth squeezed tightly shut as he looked away briefly. "You just met him! He may be baiting you. This isn't the time and place to bring this up darling—"

"That out there wasn't the time and place to approach me. He broke apart from his group of men and intentionally mentioned our affect on him and some woman—"

He jumped at this, even his hands flew to her forearms, "Did he say her name?"

"No, only that I reminded him of her… not sure if that will clear everything up," she took his hand and pulled him to the back of the kitchen further from the door. "He made it sound like that we are something they will never be and what he complimented on me was what he would say to her."

"Which was what?"

'Role… as in his wife?' she asked. Her mind swarmed with the Major's words. The more she thought on it standing before her husband, all of the words were interpreted.

'His confidant.'

She swallowed to clear her throat, "He inquired to you about my role in your life. He called me your confidant. That is what unsettled me at first."

"Go on."

"Our differences are much like his and hers… except we have each other entirely. He said you are a very lucky man as you will be a very successful entrepreneur should you play your cards right, which he deems you will. He merely hopes for me to always be aware of my position in all that you do."

Robert exhaled with a faint smile, a closed hand going to his mouth, "She's a confidant of some kind. That is perfect Lizzy. It was read into but I can maybe include it…" he nodded slowly as if trying to convince himself before anxiety seeped back into his expression. He shook his head not wanting to pull her into his dirty work fully, "I trust your account. But why would you think I'm not aware of what I'm exceptionally doing to the man?"

"I know you're aware, it caught me off guard is all!" She argued back in a hush. "I never thought of it directly affecting in that way. Someone who could be innocent." She paused there.

"It directly affects anyone siding with the Crown especially him. There is no innocence on his behalf. He is Washington's target," he lowered his face to hers as well as his voice to a clear, brazen murmur. "It's unfortunate for him but fortunate for us. No matter what kind of man is in that red uniform, all I see is red just as you do. You can get to know them all just like I do, but in the end they are the ones indirectly and directly harming us. They chose for me what I will be fighting for." Robert's voice gravelly and growing lighter by the sentence end, hating to sound like he was treating her mildly. His toughened eyes stared down into hers, silently conveying his little guilt that surprised Elizabeth to the point she nearly questioned it.

"I know they did. You did." They both found peace in their talk and let go of the subject.

"By the way, before he stopped you on your way back, I stopped my work so I could tell you this upon your return," his tone uplifted much lighter, "father left a while ago and he had some good news."

Her thumb rubbed against her arms that were crossed. "He found a crew who can repair the barn before winter?"

"I… never thought to mention that," Robert shook his head before reaching for both her hands, "no. This is more important. He would like to host a Thanksgiving dinner this year. All of us together."

Elizabeth swallowed her surprise as he stared down at her reassuringly. She wondered aloud, "That's—"

He refrained from rolling his eyes, "—yes, a holiday—"

"—in two days and a holiday. It will be busy here—and on your birthday tomorrow!" Elizabeth's eyes widened as she realized on the spot to which Robert smiled thinly and squeeze his eyes shut. His date of birth always snuck up on her and he cared nothing about the day.

"I've told you time and time again, I cannot take off for my birthday no matter how many times I attempted to convince myself it's a holiday."

"Our first year of marriage you did," she reminded.

"Because you convinced me when I was still very naïve to your charms," he quietly murmured and dared to wink at her, "and it was a very special year."

Past her blushing, she looked up at him with her big, hopeful eyes, and asked with a tone laced with encouragement, "We can be at home on Thanksgiving and celebrate you out of the sight and air of war. Would you be able to go too?"

Robert's warm smile typically reserved for her lit up his face as he squeezed her hands before letting them go. "I wouldn't miss your cooking or company on a holiday for the world."

His palms ever sweaty and his heart swelled seeing her light green eyes shine brighter. He even noticed her arms make to move to wrap around him. "The coach is already lined up to pick you up tomorrow morning for Oyster Bay. I'll have to leave the day of because I'm behind on taking stock and Rivington is short on help, so I'll arrive there just in time. It will be safe as you will be with other people around you who are from the area."

He chuckled as she dove to his chest and he rubbed her back fleetingly. Their tight embrace interrupted by the footsteps of workers coming into the kitchens, so he broke away first to smooth his vest.

"If father allows you room in the kitchen he can hog up, I was wondering if for my birthday you can make me some of your pumpkin pie… with salt in the crust so it's not flat again," he meekly asked.

Elizabeth smiled gently as she straightened his neck stock as he withheld displays of affection in public. "Of course I will. Before I head up, has any recent letters arrived from my parents?"

She would have taken silence as an answer, or the tender and apologetic look on his face.

But he shook his head faintly. "Not since their last reply." His response made her eyes grow misty. Robert's gentle hand tilted her chin back up when she looked down with a mixture of acceptance and disconsolate. "I'm confident my father invited them as well, but with your newborn sibling, they may have to set out this time trying to quietly travel here. I promise you won't go more years without seeing them."

She nodded with no issue, and patted her husband's hand resting on her cheek with a tiny smile. Elizabeth was no fool to know it's not safe for her rebel Maryland family to seek passage to New York or attempt an easy slip into Oyster Bay unnoticed. It also was no safer for her father who signed the declaration especially if he attempted the journey on his own; the King's men should know the prominent supporters of the cause. It only unnerved her how long it has been since she's seen either of them, and her missing them combined with the fearful knot in her stomach that comes and goes exhausted her.

"Well, this will get us through the rest of today," she took the food out the basket that would be her lunch and folded it on a white cloth. "Any leftover you don't want you can add to the shop's pantry. One of the workers would take it while we're gone."

Then they calmly parted ways until the evening after he would finish his day of work, and look forward to sleeping in with his Lizzy before seeing her off to the coach. That night their conversation about Major Andre was never brought up again.

---

- 2 days later -

By late afternoon of Thanksgiving Day, Robert was already long done with taking stock and inventory so prior to leaving at sunset he ensured he had everything he would need on the road. Being used to the route and knowing the kind of man he is, there would be no lantern, baggage, or food for a near two-hour long trip that breezed by if the backroads are taken up to the clear path that would wind straight to Oyster Bay. He would only bring along his cloak and hat for the chilly ride, and with careful deliberation along with the sharp memory of his wife's bruised neck and red cheek that greeted him when he returned home last time, the Quaker hid his small pistol in the inside of his coat more than rest assured.

As God is my witness. His silent rage within was tamed ever so sagely, but not so his slightly hardened heart. He knew a trip back home would be refreshing and would remind him further who he is. He would even like to bury the pistol he bought on York Island in his backyard… but a commanding voice in his mind compelled him not to consider it just yet.

The shopkeeper standing in for him showed right on time, and Robert was behind the payment counter to greet the young man he had met at a Society meeting.

"I've already taken stock," Robert clarified reaching for his tricorne, "so just mind things while I'm away." As he walked out from behind the counter, he made sure to carefully mention, "If they want to buy something, check the price and take their money."

He had turned away to put on his hat, so he didn't see the amused smirk on the young man's face being reminded to double check. Robert exhaled for the first time leaving the business in gladness despite it not reciprocating on his inexpressive face. Already the very scent of fall that he could envision hits him in the face upon the thought walking back into his childhood home to celebrate a holiday, and there his radical Quaker father and beautiful wife only waiting for him.

Robert tonelessly called behind him to the stand-in without turning back as he strode out the business, "I won't be gone long. Just headed home for the Thanksgiving Day."

---

- Oyster Bay -

The Townsends were waiting for their final family member and a potential three extra guests Samuel promptly told Elizabeth the moment she arrived at the door the previous day. She was stunned but not all that surprised to hear 'Oh, and I invited Woodhull and his family! Robert doesn't know.' His father has had a knack lately to do things behind his son's back most of the time pertaining to his son. If he had told Robert what he planned, he most likely would have refused and let Elizabeth go completely by herself… no, he would have had her stay with him on York Island. Samuel's goal was to have a healthy, natural gathering over a meal outside of spy business, and he prayed that Robert would make peace with Abraham as well as get to know him more. Elizabeth could fully agree.

So, the both of them cooked or baked just enough to feed them all, even enough for seconds. Dusk was there before they knew it and the thought of the duration of the route Robert always takes would have him there any moment now.

Elizabeth lost attention to the time as she remained upstairs after washing her hands of the residual from food preparation. Her eyes were glued to a letter from her parents that was sent to here some time the last few days. They had written after all… She smiled warmly and tearfully choked up at their words how much they miss her, love her, how her father is relieved for her and Robert's safety, how her young siblings are learning about her and asking for her, and they wished her a joyous Thanksgiving.

It was exactly what her soul needed. As she pressed the letter to her chest taking it all in, the sound of horse hooves beating against the ground was finally heard outside the front lawn. Now Elizabeth turned to the clock on the wall and frowned to see the late hour. This definitely was her husband now. She left the letter in her chair as she stood up and went to the mirror to ensure her hair was still in place after working in the kitchen before heading downstairs.

---

Samuel Townsend opened the door before his guest could knock. He beamed, "Abraham! Oh, how wonderful! How wonderful you've decided to accept my invitation after all." Abraham brushed past him and invited himself inside while Samuel remained on the porch expecting to greet the man's wife and child. "Did you bring the family?"

"No, it's just me, I'm afraid," he responded from the foyer.

"Oh, I made extra just in case. All right, well..." Samuel closed the door behind him still beaming. He chuckled as he watched the man stride into the dining room, "Come in."

But Abraham didn't share his elation. Instead he turned to face him with a solemn sigh, "You're gonna have to leave."

Samuel faltered, "Leave?"

"Yeah, the Queen's Rangers are moving down Long Island again. They're raiding homes along the way. We're gonna have to go right now." Abraham strode back over to Townsend Senior and beckoned him with a tap on the shoulder to go with him up the stairs to pack a travel sack.

"Are we not being a little too hasty?" Samuel stood where he was, only eyeing Abraham as he went to the base of the stairs.

Abe exhaled, "Better safe than sorry. You're going to go stay with Robert and Lizzy for a while, all right?"

"Robert might already be on his way here, and Lizzy is here."

"She's here? He let her travel back—shite." Abe grumbled not meaning to raise his voice. This was what Elizabeth came down to witness having heard the end portion. She descended down the stairs and stopped at the last step when he turned towards her.

"You're asking us to leave everything like we up and left… on Thanksgiving?" She spoke lower, "Wouldn't that look a bit odd?"

"They hopefully won't come in if there's no lights on," Abe tried to explain. "If they break down the door then you would have to take all the food with you or dispose of it. We're all in danger right now so it doesn't matter what you end up doing, you two need to be gone."

"Robert's on his way, all he had to do was tell his fill-in what to do," Elizabeth turned to her father-in-law with a nervous bite of the inside of her lip. "It shouldn't be taking him this long."

But Abe responded instead of him. "Well, then I can stay here until he shows. I'd much rather if both of you got to safety, and Robert would want that for you as well." Then he made his way up the stairs. Samuel gasped in surprise as he went after him to try talking him out of it.

The mood of the evening dampened a little. Elizabeth went to the windows once more to search for any sign of her husband… or rangers. As far as the moonlight could touch the property from beyond their candlelit windows, there was nothing. Something in her gut didn't settle well.

Choosing not to fear, and believing Abraham to be overreacting, she made her way up the stairs to speak to him. When she heard the rattle of drawers, she quickened her pace.

"Why don't we wait until he arrives and then we can all go together, hmm?" Samuel was recommending when she walked in. Abraham was frantically shoving the man's clothes into baggage as he continuously tried to convince him that there are indeed rangers coming.

Elizabeth steps forward closer to the bed, grabbing his arm, "Abraham, why are the Rangers coming here?"

He hesitated, but bit his lip as he answered, "Because their leader Simcoe knows of the name Culper and he's scouring all homes on Long Island for him."

"You lie."

"No, ma'am. I don't." He assured her, mirroring her exact fear and concern. "Where's you and Robert's room? Sorry I don't mean to intrude, but I sort of have to. Don't want them snooping through finding anything."

"It's down the hall— and hold it right there, Robert keeps nothing of secrecy in there, and I'm not packing a thing!" She gained her senses and moved to block him from leaving Samuel's room. "I'm staying here until he shows up."

"Then don't pack anything, alright?" Abe stresses, completely ignoring her demand. She was startled he would snip at her and somehow lose security of the Culper name. "Get your cloak and let's go. I'm not playing games, I swear it. Come on Mr. Townsend… Samuel." He moved past her, taking Samuel's baggage and heading out the bedroom.

"Abraham— try to talk sense into him Lizzy," Samuel called after him and voiced to her in an uncharacteristic grumble as she followed on his heels. They caught up with Abe half way down, and Samuel reached for the baggage tugging him back once they set foot in the foyer. But Abe took hold of the man's arm and practically dragged him along beside him towards the front door.

Never in her life has she seen her father in law so angered. It was rival to the night they all confronted Robert to convince him to spy. But this was a different circumstance and unnecessary to happen on all nights.

Elizabeth felt frustration bubble within, and demanded to the cabbage farmer, "We're not running out of here into pitch black night! That is more dangerous. Stop." He did, but he turned towards her with infuriated wide eyes and bit his tongue.

"Abraham," Samuel stepped in front of him, "I appreciate your caution—" a knock on the door cut through the air and silenced them all. Right when Elizabeth was expecting to hear the sound of a key jangle, there was another knock and a rattle of the doorknob.

"Does Robert have a key?" Abraham whispered to the older man who nodded his head. He gestured for Samuel to answer the door as he took the baggage and reached for a butterknife off the table. When Abe went to grab Lizzy, she tugged her hand back and glared him down as she moved to stand with her father in law.

Slowly, Samuel answered the door opening it half way, not expecting a woman to be standing out front. Elizabeth didn't know this until she heard their voice.

"Evening. Are you Samuel Townsend?"

"Yes."

"I am a friend of your son's. Would you mind if I come in? It's quite brisk."

"Yes, of course. I'm so sorry," Samuel stepped aside, opening the door wider to let her in. She graciously nodded her head. "May I take your cloak?"

"No, thank you—" Anna barely got to take in her surroundings because she looked right at the other woman wide-eyed, "who are you?"

"I'm his son's wife, Elizabeth," she answers her with a skeptical eye. "Who are you, and may I ask how you know him?"

Anna blinked in recognition causing Elizabeth to tilt her head in reservation. Anna smiled kindly, "Oh, yes. Good to meet you. Well first, look, I know this is a bit unorthodox—"

Elizabeth followed the woman's eye to the kitchen where Abe stepped out of.

"It's all right. It's all right," Samuel assured the woman. "Abraham is also a friend of my son's. Of course, I wouldn't expect the two of you to know each other—"

The two of them interrupted in unison, "—We do." Anna shook her head to remember her words she's rehearsed over and over to properly tell the man the new plan, but also remembering her manners to answer the other woman's questions that was sensible to raise an eyebrow to.

"Mrs. Townsend," Anna looked to Elizabeth, who consciously had her hands folded in front of her skirts and visibly more at ease knowing that Abe and she know each other. "I know of your husband through the ring, as I've been told you know of it or even help him attain information."

"No not necessarily. It's been roughly two weeks and I don't see it wise and ladylike to partake in it with him as well," Elizabeth quickly replied, flashing her father-in-law a diffident look.

"I see," Anna nods rather dejected. "Well, Mrs. Townsend… Mr. Townsend, my name is Anna Strong and I have come from General Washington's camp in Middle Brook."/

"And now you have to go," Abe speaks up.

Anna didn't bat an eye towards him, but she meant her next words for him before keeping Mr. Townsend's attention. "No, I'm afraid you'll have to. I've come with news."

"Well, it can wait."

"No, it can't."

"Will you give us a moment?"

The two Townsends prudently watched Abraham grab the woman by the hand where the parlor meets the dining room. The knot grew in Lizzy's stomach.

"I didn't know a woman could be involved," Elizabeth whispered to her father as the two friends seemed to be arguing in a hush.

Samuel said nothing, but he looked down at her as if he were withholding news from her. After a minute of more whispering, he placed a hand at her back to which she expressed her worries.

"What if the rangers got him?" She quietly questioned in fear. "Did he even leave the city?"

The older Townsend shook his head, and smiled comfortingly down at her. "There are no rangers Lizzy. They won't come anywhere near here or will they want anything to do with Robert. He's an innocent, unarmed Quaker. While the guise may not be much to others, his own might is to be reckoned with."

The time he travelled in the middle of the night to get the doctor when she had the miscarriage came up at those words. He was terrified, panicking, but he kept a level head and reacted so smoothly as he always does. As well as the time she had a bad fever and was bedridden for a week and a half… once he got word of it the next day or so after the Liberty Pole riots, he returned home safely from York City during the night to be with her.

"If I had stayed, we would've taken covered carriage…" Elizabeth sighed, but nevertheless she nodded at her second father's words. The sound of footsteps coming their way ceased their own hushed conversation.

Anna returned to stand before them, "Mr. Townsend, as I was saying, I have come directly from Washington's camp and Mr. Woodhull can verify that. From now on, the general wishes Robert's letters to be transmitted by a more direct route. I will be the new courier."

Elizabeth looked at the woman as if she were mad. Now she eyed her carefully, trying to figure her out.

"You?" Samuel questioned unsure.

"Mmm."

He scoffed, politely exclaiming, "This is all very confusing!"

"It does seem so, doesn't it?" Anna returned his smile momentarily. His next words made her hesitate.

"First Abraham, then Austin Roe, and now a woman?"

"Who's Austin Roe?" She slowly asked, peering back at Abe.

"Isn't he the cabbage farmer you mentioned earlier?" Elizabeth recalled, turning to Samuel who silently nods. Apparently, this created new tension in the room and another argument took place between the two friends. Samuel and Elizabeth remained standing next to each other, watching them with growling stomachs and confused eyes as if they were someone else's children.

"Abraham, how many men have you sent in your stead?" Anna asked with a serious frown. "And why weren't any of us made aware of him?!"

"Only the one," Abe shushed her with a raised voice, ironically. "I don't even think we need to really be discussing this right now. There's other things on the table!"

"Don't yell!" Anna hissed.

"I'm not... Look, we don't have time to discuss this, all right? The Rangers are coming. We need to leave and we need to leave now."

"Oh, the Rangers, I see," Anna nods, turning to look back to the Townsends to prove how silly Abe's words are. But for the most part, Elizabeth didn't take any of this talk silly. Abraham said almost a month ago that her Robert would be safe, and with a brave heart she trusted him. If something were to slip up… she thought it'd be in York City, not in the safe confines of their real house and home.

"Anna, you don't know what you're saying," Abe groaned. A floorboard creaked but Elizabeth thought nothing of it thinking it was part of Abe's frustrated shuffle of feet.

"Agh!" Samuel's startled shout made them all jump. Elizabeth's head snapped to him and her heart dropped, seeing a pistol held at the back of his head by a ruffian with an eyepatch… a freshly bleeding scar beneath it… their front door wide open. Her and Anna gasped as their breath left them.

"Up against the wall." The man drawled out the command. He pressed the pistol into Samuel's chest pushing him back against the wall as Anna complied. "Up, all of you!" In a split second, the dirty, one-eyed Scottish man was only a step away from Elizabeth—who was almost against the wall—as he now reached for her. He spun her around so her back was to him, and he raised his pistol to her neck, dragging her to the wall with him. "Now!"

"Do as he says!" Abe remained oddly calm and spoke evenly. But Elizabeth didn't recognize any of that, because all she heard was his command and her heart pounding in her ears.

The front door busted open and swiftly coming to the rescue was Caleb, his flintlock already aimed at the man.

"Let her go!" Caleb commanded, Anna going to his side.

Rogers looked him square in the eye, informing him, as Elizabeth held the man's arm wrapped around her neck, "Drop your iron."

He rebuked just as menacingly, "You drop yours."

"Caleb, do it! It's all right." Abe ran up to Caleb, stepping in front of his gun.

"Abe? What the f—what are you doing here?!"

"I know, shh," Abe hushed him. "Stop it."

Caleb shook his head lividly, darting his eyes to Lizzy and Abe, "Get out of the way—"

"—I know him!" Abe shouted. "All right? It's all right."

"What in God's name is going on?" Samuel shouted. "Of course you know him. It's Austin Roe!"

"No, it's Robert Rogers," Anna mumbled lowly behind Caleb's extended arm. Elizabeth felt her blood turn cold at the name. A name she's read in the paper before and has heard in some men's gossip both at the Bowery and the coffeehouse. Now she was in this deadly man's choke hold with a pistol to her neck.

"How do you know him?" Elizabeth was trembling, bravely hissing to Abe for an answer but Rogers lips press to the side of her face, hovering over her ear covered with strands of loose hair. She felt uncontrollable tears begin to drip down her face.

"Made an impression, didn't I, Mrs. Townsend?" He murmured with the stench of bad breath and stale alcohol. "Am I right, are you the spy Robert Townsend's wife?" Never in her life has she felt like she needed a bath to wash someone's touch from her, maybe even boil herself in holy water.

"Yes, yes she is, quit it!" Abe hisses to him.

"She's innocent! Have the gun pointed at me, not her," Anna even exclaimed to which Caleb shushed her as he resumed pointing it at Rogers.

Elizabeth felt like her voice wasn't in her suddenly dry throat, "How do you know my husband?"

"From Culper, here, lassie—"

She didn't know how or why she kept talking, but she interrupted him smoothly, immediately asking, "—Why are you holding me then?"

His bad breath kept hitting her face with old whiskey, and the smell of blood on him wasn't all that familiar to her making her empty stomach sick. But the fact that it was his blood… or someone he has killed recently; this made her knees want to buckle beneath her, yet the man's arm wrapped around her chest held her up.

"Oh, I bet me last eye you are the one encouraging your little Quaker to do this bloody mess. I'm holding you to get my point across, to make him shake," he rasped and pointed his pistol closer to her neck, touching the base of her jaw making her shudder and whimper. Elizabeth felt anger rise in her at those words, Shaking Quaker, silently shaming him for that indirect insult. "If you interrupt me again I will—"

"Let her go!" Samuel spat and shouted at Rogers who only moved to point the gun at him.

"Shut it!"

"Rogers!" Abe shouts to him in the loudest hush possible, gulping when he moved the gun back to Lizzy's face. "We are on the same side here."

"What?!" Caleb furiously exclaimed. He kept eyes trained on Elizabeth and Rogers when he saw the man's hand slacken the slightest.

Abe continued like his friend never spoke, "But if you hurt her, you die."

"You're in no position to threaten me," Rogers Scottish accent cut through the air like a sharp knife every time he murmured darkly. "I warned you not to follow me, boy."

Caleb hissed, "What's he talking about, Abe?" But before Abe could answer him, Samuel Townsend exclaimed dreadfully.

"And who are you?" His voice disheartened and fearful.

Abe turned to the old Quaker, with a stressed shout, "His name is Brewster, his name is Rogers, but none of our names are gonna mean shit past tonight once the Rangers show up! We all just need to leave!"

Elizabeth gripped the man's arm who wouldn't loosen his dirty grip on her. Rogers muttered, "We're not going anywhere. I came here to see Robert Townsend and I'm not leaving till I see Robert Townsend. And neither are any of you."

"What do you want with my son?" Samuel asked standing far away from the scene next to the hearth, his face pale as if he will pass out any moment.

Rogers rumbled, looking to the only three people not in his hold glaring him down, "Same thing all these children want... information."

"Look, Simcoe is coming here." Abe stated in a hush.

"Well, Long Island's a very big place and we've got plenty of time." Rogers smirked. "Now, I want you all to sit down, arms on the table."

---

Robert was relieved and confused as he rode up to his warm looking house with candlelight flickering in the windows. Immediately he saw light coming through the doorway that shouldn't be open with no one standing by it, but even stranger, another horse that did not belong to any of them was tied to the post on the front lawn as he parked his next to it.

Once he tied the reigns to the beam, he crossed the lawn and looked around for any sign of a visitor he was unaware of. Perhaps Lizzy's father came himself after all?

Yet the door half way open was unusual and had him doubting that, especially with no sound of voices floating through the air. He slid through the doorway, keeping it as it was before softly closing it behind him.

Robert tugged off his cloak as he eyed the scuff marks on the wood and removed his hat before calling, "Elizabeth? Father?"

He walks out from behind the wall separating the foyer to the dining room, and stops dead in his tracks at the chilling sight before him. The table all set, candles lit, and people around it, but not the ensemble he was expecting at all. There are guns drawn on either side, and one of them held to his wife's jaw as she sat held like a stiff ragdoll in an unkempt man's lap.

In a cold sweat, his entire world stopped to a screeching halt. Robert wanted to run up and take the gun away from his grasp, and rip her out of that man's arms, but he couldn't. Or Woodhull, the other one with a gun! Or the other woman—none of these people he knows or recognizes yet this dirty man controlled the room. Robert's eyes burned with barely contained rage and hot tears. He was in no position to do anything but comply with his wishes. When Elizabeth's eyes glanced towards him, meeting his own, he could see all her fear, discomfort, and even infuriation at the man.

It killed him. And somehow, even if he was not a Quaker, he'll have to ease tensions with a civil discussion so it does not turn ugly.

Rogers unenthusiastically greeted him as he remained in the threshold, "Mr. Townsend, welcome. Sit down." Elizabeth shifted her eyes back to the table.

"Do it, son," Samuel, sitting in front of the hearth, added soon after.

"Arms on the table," Rogers ordered him, and he immediately complied the moment he sat down. Robert's gaze kept flickering to his wife and the gun against her skin, and the other woman sitting next to them also beckoned his concern. "Now then, Culper Jr., you recently penned a letter to our plucky farmer here concerning a Major John André and the young woman who recently turned his head. What's her name?"

"Who is this woman?" Robert swallowed as he inquired looking Anna's way, but only for Rogers to slide the pistol a smidge from Elizabeth's cheek to her jawline. Now he saw sparks in his line of vision as his hands trembled on the table.

"Oh, you haven't met her before, have you? She's one of your merry band."

Robert glared at him, tilting his head to his wife, and dared to order as calmly as he could, "Let her go."

"Maybe I haven't introduced myself," Rogers sighed. He moved the pistol, pointing it to Samuel and Anna sitting beside them before moving it back to Elizabeth's neck, this time lower if not lazily. "My name is Robert Rogers and I don't aim to be here all night."

"What will you do with the information?" Robert asked soon after.

"I'm gonna use it to get close to André."

"You won't get close enough," Abe broke in.

"I'm not talking to you!" Rogers snapped.

"He's too well guarded," Abe mentioned. "And once they catch you and torture you, you'll give away this ring and I cannot let that happen."

Rogers breath blew against her cheek and kept blowing a loose strand of hair in her face. Her eyes half-lidded in disgust and fright. "I was leading the Queen's Rangers against the Iroquois before you even had hairs on your chin, boy! What can you do to me?"

"I can make you a promise," Abe reasoned with him in a calm, diplomatic tone finally. "You let this lot do what we do best and we'll get André for you. But if you do not put that gun down, you will not be walking out of this room alive. Now, we are all gonna stand up and walk out of this room slowly.—"

"You're him," Samuel's voice cut the tension.

"We're... What?" Abe and everyone else turned to him in surprise that he spoke.

"What?"

Samuel gulped as he stared Caleb of all people down. "It's you. You're the Queen's Ranger."

"Shite." Caleb shut his eyes and looked away. He didn't mean to meet Robert's eyes, so he looked ashamedly away again trying to deny it. "No."

"Yes, you are."

"No."

"Yes, you are!" Samuel harshly pressed on, this time not repressing his emotions. "You attacked me and you burned down my farm."

"What is this?" Robert questioned looking between the three men. He was visibly shaken up now.

"Here we go!" Rogers groaned, tugging Elizabeth to his chest and moving the pistol to the back of her neck.

"Woodhull," Robert looked to him in all the reservation he could muster as well as not wanting to believe it. "Is this true?"

Abe's silence and hesitation settled it before he finally nodded. Not even making eye contact with Robert, "Yes, it's true. I told him to."

"Why?" Samuel exclaimed mortified while his son realized immediately.

"To manipulate me. To trick me into undertaking this business…" Robert articulated in such a way that he was in disbelief still. His face darkened and his back rigid against the back of the chair.

"You sent them here? To harm us?" Elizabeth whispered across the table to Abraham, her voice shaking when she felt Roger's hand pat her lap a brief couple of times either out of making her uncomfortable or answering for Abraham. Little was she aware of was that he was smirking at the young man.

Abe winced, and pitifully replied, "Yeah."

"You lied." Robert's tone venomous. Every thought of that awful day even fresher in his mind. Now he feels that's all he ever fall asleep to and wake to thinking about.

"Yes, I lied," Abe agreed defensively, "I had no other choice!" Elizabeth's chest heaved as she eyed the hot, melting candlestick between her and Abe. She wanted to beat this insane man out of their home, and the man who's lap she's sitting on.

"You always have a choice!" Robert shouted.

"How would you know? You never chose, I chose for you!" Abe rebuked. "Because you couldn't do it yourself." He met Elizabeth's gaze after, who shared an identical look of loathe as her husband had. Except she was biting her lip to say something, most likely in defense of her Robert, or from crying.

Elizabeth's heart was beating out of her chest so much that she no longer felt she was breathing. But when she heard Robert's voice break the silent tension, and the sound of his chair being pushed back with a thud, her entire world felt like it was slowly slipping away. She closed her eyes and focused on keeping calm.

"Mr. Rogers," Robert murmured dangerously calm, catching the man's attention. "The woman's name is Philomena Cheer." With that he stood from his chair and went to stand at the end of the table near Rogers as he finished informing him, all while staring in pain at his wife. Thankfully Rogers didn't budge or fuss at him to sit back down. "She is an actress. You will often find her at Rivington's on Wall Street."

"Ah, yes, the actress. I remember her. I can use her…" Whether it was for the dramatics or he was still planning on how to leave, he still held Elizabeth on his lap and didn't budge. "Well, it's been a great pleasure watching the amateur dramatics tonight, but if you don't mind, it's getting to be that hour of twilight—"

She had to move her head to her shoulder from the pressure of his pistol. Unfortunately, this meant her cheek was touching his dirty clothed arm wrapped around her neck and chest. "You, unprime your firelock."

"No chance." Caleb glared at the man with resolve.

"I have already got what I want, so I can kill anyone I like. But…" Rogers hand brushes Elizabeth's hair from her face to touch her cheek making her squeeze her eyes shut, trying to hold back all tears as she bit her lip hard in frustration and fear. "It just seems such a shame to waste a bullet on this, eh? So, blow your powder out your pan."

Elizabeth opened her eyes to stare at Caleb with plead. She forced herself to cease biting her lip and put on a brave face. Even though the whaler's eyes already shone with apology, he still hesitated and fought hard against her big glistening eyes that could make any sane man crumble. But besides that, he knew what he had to do.

With a flick of his finger, the pan of the flintlock opened and Caleb blew out the black powder, every grain of it pattering onto the clean tabletop. Then he turned back to Rogers with an infuriated grimace, dropping his weapon on the table with a loud clang.

"That's it." Finally, Rogers pistol and arm around her moved away, and he slid out from underneath Elizabeth and off the seat, carefully coming to a stand. The weight of his touch gone from her except for his presence. He stared down Abe presently.

Elizabeth's numb body fell to the warm seat with a visible cringe and kept her face straight but her eyes trained on the evil man. Through the strands of long hair in her face, she shot him a nasty side eye. But even this pitiful attempt to fight back went past everyone in the room. Yet, as her glare faded back to fear as her eyes darted to Robert's, she found he was watching out for her well-being as his own barely met hers. He had never looked so vengeful towards a person with tightly furled lips, the bulging wrinkle on the bridge of his nose and forehead, and slanted eyebrows.

"I used to like you, boy," Rogers drawled in a low growl of disappointment. Elizabeth followed his every arm's movement with dread. "I did. But I warned you not to cross me—" He raised his pistol to point at Abe directly in the head. Elizabeth didn't dare make a sound in her shock and distress.

"No!" Anna shouted in panic. Movement from Rogers other side made the woman's shout die in her throat.

Robert Townsend had whipped out a small handgun, ready to fire, pointed at Rogers head. "Like you said, it'd be a shame to waste a bullet."

The clock ticked nearly four or more times before Rogers finally swayed in his stance. His mouth curled into an astounded leer the same time as Caleb did, except Caleb's was a small, proud grin that brought the twinkle back to his eyes. Elizabeth stared in shock and horror at her husband much like his father was, but some spec of hope shone in her eyes. Her palpitating heart had eased just enough to swell with relief.

"An armed Quaker. Who'd have guessed it?" Rogers laughs as he emptied his pistol before dropping it onto the table with ease. But Robert Townsend didn't move or lower his small handgun pointed at Rogers face. Swallowing hard, Elizabeth looked at her beloved's concentrated, debating face focused on Rogers. Now she was fearful for his innocent soul, prepping to take a life that he would never recover from. If her throat wasn't so dry or her voice not present at the moment, a whimper would have escaped her parted lips.

The clock ticked on until Rogers finally exclaimed in some mild surprise, "You gonna kill me, "Friend"?" Robert respectfully looked right to his father and his wife before scowling back at Rogers.

"The spirit of Christ will never move us to war against any man with outward weapons," Robert informed him before jutting his arm out to his side, pointing to the floorboards near the door. He instructed lastly leaving no room left for argument. With an even tone, he nearly spat the demand, "You leave this house."

With arms raised, he slowly stepped out of the room, into the foyer, before launching himself out the door in a bolt. Robert laid the gun on the table looking to Anna to see she was fine enough, but his wife was his first priority. His sweet innocent Lizzy, disheveled and pale.

As soon as he made a move towards her, Caleb jumping out of his seat shook the table as he dove for Robert's pistol and knocked over a chair. He also bolted out the front door with Abraham and Anna in tow, Abe shouting after him.

When Elizabeth went to jump to a stand, her legs felt extremely unstable so she remained seated in the sickening seat.

"Robie—" Elizabeth's voice broke as she felt herself go into shock from the rough night. Robert's grip around her so tight she thought he would break her in their secure embrace. She slowly stood up with his support and melted into his safe person with relief everyone was alright, but that he did arrive safely in the night.

Currently she was internally wincing feeling Robert's heaving chest, hear his edgy exhales after all of the tension, and his heart pounding harder than hers. He surely showed no fear face to face with the awful Robert Rogers.

She wondered when he would speak as he only kept a hard hand twisted in her locks of hair clutching it, but he must've sent a look to his father silently asking how it came to this.

Samuel leaned against the chair with a long sigh as the spy ring argued considerably loud outside. He muttered with a low voice and a spec of anger as well, "I invited Abraham and his family to be together outside of all that business, but it was only him. He arrived first to warn us of the Rangers scouring Long Island, then his friend and not long after Austin—Rogers came in right behind her." He paused to moisten his dry throat with a gulp. "With guns involved, yes, they held it to each other's heads."

Managing to steady her voice, Elizabeth mumbled quietly to her husband, whose face she couldn't get him to look at her, "He had me sit in his lap so it would make you do as he said." She didn't think her father-in-law could hear her.

"Though I still hold a grudge, I will say it would have been worse if that attacker with the hat didn't show up. And if you didn't then we would have been here—" Samuel was cut off by Robert pulling away from his wife. Now Elizabeth could see her husband's detached, unblinking face. Not looking once at her. His head turned towards the foyer and the open front door with bickering adults outside.

Her nerves were settling and now she found her voice after clearing her dry throat with a swallow. It didn't mean to come out so small and faint. "What are we going to do about them?"

Robert still didn't face her as he now strode to the front door and walked out the house. The bickering ceasing.

The remaining Townsend's nervously glanced to each other before following after him to see what he would say or do. Deep down they knew this was it for him, and personally Lizzy wished for this once tolerable nightmare of spying to now end. She begun to think if maybe the gun wasn't held to her head would Robert feel more inclined to remaining in the ring, or if it was never revealed that this Caleb Brewster and men were sent by Woodhull to convince her husband to spy against the crown. They would have been foolishly cuckolded.

Right now, there wasn't much Robert could do she could all but feel. After all they've been through in this short amount of time during his effort to the cause, they were rewarded with the bombardment of a mercenary who held a gun to them all, near exposure of her husband's identity, and now the possible visit of the rumored merciless Queen's Rangers. Not just the chilly fall air hits them in the face but their grim reality. Elizabeth worriedly watched her husband walk on as if he were sleep walking, and she held her tongue. What Abraham had done was wrong.

Her shoulders shuddered violently as she caught a sharp chill and her hand went to her cheek. I nearly died raced through her mind.

Robert walked straight through the middle of the trio with each of them shouting in either ear, he numbly voiced with as much demand as he could, "I want you gone."

"We need you and you know it."

"Yes, and it wasn't personal, all right?"

Anna Strong gathered her skirt and rushed to block his path to which he side-stepped her efforts, "Robert, listen to me. You won't have to deal with Abe anymore, only me."

Robert turns on his heel to scowl at them all, "You think that I would trust any of you? You can't even trust each other."

Then the sound of horses neighing in the distance made everyone freeze and eyes widen... Once Elizabeth saw Robert had sharply turned around and beelined towards the house with a fixed stare, Elizabeth didn't think twice to hurry back in with Samuel right behind hearing Abraham's futile and dangerous shouts at this dire moment.

"It's not over! It's not over!" He reached for Robert's arm but he strode past so fast Abe grabbed the air or the hem of the Quaker's jacket blowing back as he fled the front yard.

"Come on, come on. Abe, come on!"

Elizabeth ran into the kitchen, right to the extra wall hooks to hang aprons or cloaks, to get a shawl to wrap around her shoulders to comfort herself, and both cease shivering from the cold air and the cold spot on her neck where a pistol was once touching.

"Just stay neutral and silent," Robert quickly hushed keeping his voice low, leading her firmly by the hand back into the dining room, "and don't make eye contact with any of them Lizzy." He then placed his hand at her lower back, him and his father standing close.

His words almost had no time to leave his mouth the front door busted open so fast. The rangers entered in polished dark green uniform unlike the ragged men who attacked their barn. Well, Abe was honest with them and Brewster was the 'Queen's Ranger'.

Their leader, who must be this 'Simcoe', a bright-eyed healthy man towered over everyone in the room including his own men. He removed his tall black helmet which only unnerved Elizabeth more because she felt his urgent gaze bore into the three of them. Thankfully she had the benefit of the doubt and was surely viewed as a Quaker. Her old plain, dark maroon dress had never felt softer as she blended with her husband and father-in-law.

"You can relax, men. They're Quakers," he informed in an oddly light tenor. She kept her weary dry eyes level with the edge of the dining table as he walked towards them, with Robert's torso in her peripheral vision as they stand an inch apart. "We're looking for a man goes by the name of Culper. Have you seen anyone?"

"Yes, there was a man," Robert answered in kind, "He broke in, he demanded supplies."

Simcoe saw the misplaced gun on the table and picked it up suspiciously. "And left his weapon?"

"He…" Her queasy stomach dropped another time this night. She looked up at her husband eyeing the weapon with distaste. His easy lie feasible and thought of quick, "…called that a gift to protect ourselves from any... unfriendly elements, he said."

Even Samuel smoothly pitched in, "Yes, seems to think himself quite the jester." Simcoe walked past them, around the table to stand before the window to look out. Before he could think to question further, Robert honestly added.

"He had another weapon which he took with him, along with a bite of our turkey. His name wasn't Culper, though. It was.. Rogers." Elizabeth dared to cast her eyes up to see Simcoe's reaction. The infamous Simcoe who Abe is so fearful of… and now she understands why, just being in the same air as him was dire because of the crown's evil dripping from him.

Simcoe faced away from the window as he announced as pleasantly kind as he could. The rage on his face enough to make his jaw taut like an angered bear. "That is a blacklisted name as well and the account of his character could not be more accurate. I'm relieved he spared your lives, and thoughtfully left this behind for you to defend yourselves from unfriendly elements," he repeated. "But I'm afraid I'll have to take this with me, and the Spirit of the Lord can continue to be your weapon as it were."

The ghost of a smirk on his face was probably supposed to be kind. But it didn't settle well with either of the Townsends. "You have my respects," Simcoe claimed as he held the iron in his hand before handing it off to one of his men. "I apologize for the intrusion on your evening and I thank you for your cooperation. Come men, fall out."

Just like that the rangers rattled their long rifles as they gripped them, and one by one they exited the house. Elizabeth glanced up to see they were heading out, but Simcoe was the last to leave. Since he was the last, holding his helmet to his side, he turned to them one final time saying nothing. He made eye contact with her with a narrowed gaze, like an artist eyeing his subject to paint them perfectly. When he looked as if he would politely nod to her, he turned away with distracted thoughts and finally left the house.

When he left the door was left open, and the three of them collectively exhaled hearing the horses being mounted outside.

"I'm… going." She paused oddly. The two silent men were already staring at her in concern. She uncomfortably gestured to her skirts where she sat on Rogers lap. "I'm going to go change, into something—comfier," she couldn't think straight or get her words out. All she could think of at the moment was her clean nightgown upstairs to slip into and remain in it forever if she so dared.

"I'll come back down," she assured in a soft, weary voice as she looked back to them both. The moment Elizabeth made it to the top of the stairs with an exhale, the muffled conversation between her father-in-law and Robert begun. She had ringing ears, or no heart or strong bones to stand beside a column and eavesdrop the topic they would be discussing.

Meanwhile in the dining room the men remained standing, Robert kept shaking his head and gritting his teeth threatening to let a curse fall from his lips. "I've done it again. I keep breaking my promise."

"It wasn't your fault at all, Robert."

He puffed out bitterly, "I'm not even going to respond to that. I can't argue with anyone."

"No one's arguing," Samuel quietly uttered, following his son to the parlor. "We're all drained and famished. The worst is over with."

Robert sharply turned to face him. His eyes red from strain and held back tears, "The worst is far from over! How can you find any peace of mind after what just happened?!" He continued on in a painful throaty tone, "My entire life flashed before my eyes—my entire world was nearly taken from me. You both could have been killed if I didn't show up. Rogers wanted me, not any of you."

Samuel, weeping as well, shook his head. "But we weren't killed, thank the Lord, son."

The younger Townsend rubbed at his eyes with the cuff of his coat, "I have a distressed wife upstairs who I can't even look at right now without feeling less of a man. I'm ashamed of the position I put her in."

"She was aware of that sacrifice, son. You both were and discussed—"

"—but we didn't think it really would happen to us, did we?" Robert mirthlessly smirked. "Right under our noses. I was foolish to have trusted that Woodhull just as I was blinded…" He stopped, raising a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinching it to get his eyes to cease watering and head from aching.

Samuel swallowed tearfully, "I'm just as hurt as you are. I don't know what to think of that." No words were spoken for well over ten minutes. His son stood there with his head hung low.

"What's troubling you, Robert?"

He took his time to answer. Finally, he sighed, "She's not back down yet." Robert turned back to his father as he sunk himself into a chair. "I'm mortified, ashamed... invested plenty of my earnings and what was left of what was supposed to be Elizabeth's untouched dowry into a business that I was only partaking in for evil. I'm too far into this mess and I can't retract my stake without losing everything."

Robert refused to continue to cry, but his throat still choked up. "What do I do father? What do I do now?"

"What do you do?" Samuel stated, putting a firm hand on his son's shoulder helping him back to a stand. "You stay right where you are, as you are. You go count your blessings, go comfort each other, and rest safe knowing no other harm will come our way today. As for your work, you did this to better you and Lizzy's future. It was a wise move and I'm still proud of you."

"I pulled a gun on a man," he tonelessly sighed.

"No." Samuel shook his head. "Not from what I recall." Robert couldn't help the tiny upturn of the corner of his mouth at his father's coyness. "Don't mention it ever again, and get rid of that thing as soon as you can. But between us, even despite you using an unloaded weapon, I'm still proud of you. Be sure to pray more tonight."

"Of course, father…" Robert droned, walking past him to the kitchens to collect a tray from the cabinets, two glasses of water, and a single plate of food from the dining room.

"Before you leave tomorrow, let's talk about… you know what. We'll have leftovers overnight if we can't sleep or tomorrow… or you can bring Lizzy dinner in bed," Samuel kept changing his words while he weakly smiled at him once he realized what his son was doing.

"I'm putting it all behind me." He murmured as he made his way to the staircase. "No more lying, and no more spying."

..

---

He stopped before their bedroom door with his head hung low, trying to listen for her crying or sniffling. Nothing. Along with a silent prayer voiced in his mind, the first of many he'd be reciting tonight, he turned the knob and quietly stepped in.

Not in their bed, her chair, or on the floor by their burning hearth, his love was curled up on the chaise looking out window.

At the sound of his feet, she lifted her cheek from the pillow keeping her eyes on the foggy glass looking over the front lawn, "Do I need to come back down there?"

"No. It's all fine," he quietly hushed. Robert placed the tray at his desk by the window, and rested his hands on its spindled chair not ready to sit. He also peered out the window in a numbness that overwhelmed. Looking away from the light of the moon and Ranger free property, he reached for one of the glasses to hand to Elizabeth.

"I can't eat," she sadly sighed taking the glass with both hands, not trusting a single weak hand, bringing the edge to her lips ravenously parched.

"I know. But at least nibble. I brought one plate of food we can share." He let go of his chair, picked up his glass and the plate, and moved to sit with her. After balancing the plate on his lap and drink placed on the floor, he grabbed both of her hands to murmur a prayer of thanks and forgiveness before they ate their Thanksgiving dinner. His words bringing fond and sad tears to her eyes. By the end he had her hands tightly squeezed in his and his forehead moved forward to touch hers.

When he was done, their meal was informal as it could get. Elizabeth adjusted herself to sit between his legs outstretched on the chaise, and he slouched to the side glancing to the window every now and then. They went minutes without saying a word; they laid back comfortably as if they were eating grapes, and picked at the warm to cool food as best as they could and sipped water.

Robert was the first to place his fork down and also move his weary arms to to his side, straightening his back. Eyes closed and a migraine forming, he listened to his living wife's every breath and chew of food.

The subject had to be cleared tonight as they would be leaving tomorrow. His chest rumbled against her ear as he inaudibly asked, "Are you ashamed of me?"

"Ashamed?" She repeated aloud pulling away a little to look at him. "Never. I'm proud of you. You served, even if it was for a moment."

"That's just it, I didn't serve," he frowned deeply reopening his eyes. "That's not how I'm seeing it anymore. It's this side of me that should not exist that aided rebels. Doing the devil's work."

She put her fork down with a loud clatter that couldn't be avoided, silverware touching a fragile cold plate.

"You helped Washington," she whispered hard, "and you saved who knows how many lives and livelihoods with what you heard. To top off all that?"

"There's something on top?" Robert frowned bemused. How could she look past the ugly of this evening and still see the good in what he has done?

"We're together. You made all of that happen in a month." Elizabeth's lower lip trembled watching him unravel. His raw, worn, and ashamedly proud expression melted his unemotional mien. He knows what good was done with his work, just as she knew that he was aware of his true beliefs. His next words surprised her that he would take her into consideration still.

"What would you think when I say I choose to back out?" Robert catches his breath with a raspy tone. "How much more can I sacrifice?"

She blinked looking down at his chest, "Every sacrifice has a reward. Whether that's on this earth or in heaven, or both."

"Elizabeth…"

She mumbles in a low hush as she laid her hand on his cheek, "You're my husband, I support you, I love you, and I believe in you. I knew I wouldn't have died as long as you were there, and you were. That's for you to decide."

"I'm out," Robert exhaled soon after. "I've come to the end of my race in this ring. The measure of it… is never ending. That is my choice." He lowered his face to hers, pressing his lips to hers slowly and brief. "I am sorry I can't do more."

Robert pushes himself up to move their plates to his desk, covering their untouched bits with a lap napkin until morning. When he returned to cuddle with her, he was careful to not crush her with his weight as he climbed over her to lay behind her, curled up looking out the window.

She whispers in fear, "But what if something else comes along."

"Like another gun held to your head." He splayed his hand softly but firmly on her cheek, rubbing soothing circles in her dimple with his thumb for both of their ease. Then he submersed his face against the other side of her neck, kissing where he clearly recalls the point of a gun touching her skin. "I nearly sacrificed you, the most grievous sin I've committed—I never knew what measures sacrifice, but I cannot put you on the line like that ever again. I shouldn't even be saying that!"

Elizabeth craned her neck to to look up at him in the crook of his arm, "I'm alive, Robert. I'm fine. Deep down, you know what's best for everyone." She swallows, "Whatever you decide, I'll support you even if we're wronged."

Robert repeated much softer this time, "I'm out, that's what I've decided." Their exhausted eyes remained on one another's. "It always crosses my mind that you're all I'm going to have in this torn world. No father, no parents, or even superiors. You won't have to support me in that area no longer."

Elizabeth reminded him, "We have a home to return to in the city. Your work will still be ongoing in that area but you'll simply look past it. I'll support you through our time there still however long that may be."

He shook his head, and voiced brokenly and confused, "Lizzy, I need to know what's truly on your mind, because I am ashamed. Will you ever look at me the same?"

"You always did good and still do," she touched the dimple of his chin making him close his eyes for a split moment as he listened. "Silently watching and listening… protective of me, of others… of our future descendants one day. Just see what I see, please. After all those risks, sacrifices you made, in the end of those sacrifices is life."

He couldn't blink or smile, as his entire body was numb until morning. But he made sure to correct her fervently after leaning down to kiss the top of her head, "We. We made. I do not deserve you."

When he moved, he got up to head to bed for the night. Elizabeth waited on the chaise unblinkingly eyeing the dark night for criminals, spies, or rangers, only hearing the sound of crickets outside and trickling water in the washbowl.

She remained curled up on her side with her glass of water tucked close until the rustle of blankets ceased. One final time for the night, she whispered a prayer beneath her breath and felt her anxieties finally, nearly, all fade away. Then Elizabeth got up to join her husband in bed.

Robert laid on his pillow with arms folded behind his head, eyes opening and closing as he couldn't get him self to relax. When she joined him, she didn't want to break the peaceful silence, but there was one very important thing that wasn't said. Elizabeth pulled her side of the covers up to her chin and temporarily rested her head on his shoulder to whisper in his ear.

"Robert?" His breath exhaled through his nose so faint, she took that as he was listening. "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen. You were the bigger man."

The unloaded gun. He thought nothing of it…

When he only looked down at her unreadable, she had already looked away from his pensive face and let it go for the night as she moved her head back to the pillow. As soon as she did, his response was pulling her back to his side and his arms wrapped around her waist with his gun hand squeezing her waist. Only then did he finally find comfort and feel forgiven enough to close his eyes.

…

---

It must have been early light when Elizabeth stirred in her sleep when she felt Robert move against her, and mumbled quietly in her ear that he was going to go find a coach to pass this way for them to be taken to the city safely.

"Do we need to… not one more day?" She barely whispered with an unfocused voice as she was more than half asleep.

His soft lips kissed her forehead, his face tickling her eyelashes if she was more alert to react. "We'll have more holidays. I need to return to work, and we need to get out of here."

A wave of guilt washed over him as he stopped to reconsider his words, but he shook his head at this reconsideration. There was no time for any of that. Despite his sore back and feet he made himself leave their bed of finer making, the frame higher off the ground with a paillasse more downy, and let her take her time to get up and sleep a little more.

"I'll see you down in an hour." She rolled over when she heard him close their door after throwing on his same clothes from yesterday.

Now the cool draft went through the room. The fire had died out by morning light and there was no use in relighting it with them leaving. Elizabeth clutched the warm blankets around her feeling so secure and savored the soft pillow the back of her head was screaming not to leave.

There were no redcoats downstairs, Rivington, catty women, overwhelming pipe smoke, or drunk men.

What was supposed to be a calm, warm Thanksgiving Day turned into a nightmare which still crept into their humble Quaker home.

Once she finally got up from bed and carelessly put on her dark red dress from last night and white fichu, her mind was swimming with new realizations.

Nowhere was safe now.

---

Downstairs was a typical silent morning, and still no sight of her husband who set out to seek a coach. She placed her one light travel bag at the front door and returned back to the dining room. All of the food was moved to the kitchen or covered up, the chairs were all lined up neatly, and the tablecloth was removed to be cleaned. It didn't appear to be a scene of potential gunfire at all. Well, it never looked like a scene for that…

Then as she silently moved to the parlor catching sight of her father in law, her eyebrow quirked when she caught something. All over the wood floors was some scuffed mud from boots. Queen's Ranger boots… She abruptly looked away, not forgetting the stare down from Simcoe.

"Lizzy…" Samuel gestured for her to come nearer as she barely entered the parlor. Once she closed the gap with tentative steps, he handed over a bundle of old, light colored fabrics, and said in a hush, "I wanted to give you these now that Robert's out of sight. I've been meaning to for some time, and with the both of you finally living together—then if things didn't go as they went last night, I would have given these swaddles in front of him. They should be with you both."

Elizabeth's mouth parted wordlessly taking the baby blankets from him.

At this, Samuel clarified, "As a present, comfort… The one on top with a stitch was Robert's when he was born, his mother made all of them."

"The pink one? I believe it's pink?" She asked as she slowly flipped through them all. "It has an N embroidered on it?"

"In case it was a girl. She planned ahead for anything and everything," he chuckled fondly before taking the end of the small woven blanket and turning it to the other side. On this side Robert's mother had embroidered with fine needlepoint skill an unusual verse: Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

"Nelly, hence the family dog's name," Samuel slowly nodded his head as he drifted into memory from years ago. "She was fond of the name, or anything simple, sweet and short."

"I do as well…" She smiled softly as so many thoughts went through her mind. "They're lovely, just darling. And they'll have to be tucked away in my baggage."

Samuel shook his head and waved a hand, "Oh, if he comes across them it should not bother him. I merely didn't want him to get worked up or upset on my part."

Elizabeth discreetly licked her dry lips, "He did not go to bed angry at you. He was never upset with you at all. It was more with himself." Then the question nagging at her mind came out. "But why now give this to us?"

"I do not know when I'll be able to make another trip into the city. It certainly won't be any time on or after Christmas," he grasped his cane and looked to the floor fretfully, "now that the colder weather is coming in, and he ended it."

She nodded to him gently. "We are trying. Perhaps with this spying behind us we will have some peace in our lives, and blessed with a—" Elizabeth cut herself off hearing Robert speak outside to one of the slaves. "I better tuck this in my luggage while I can."

Samuel walked with her to the front door in comfortable silence. "Perhaps next year will be better. The war can end."

"There's no telling," she sighed closing her bag back up, and took his offered arm to pull her up from the floor, and made sure to smile with gratitude, "Thank you for them, and hosting a holiday."

Samuel mirrored her gratitude and pulled her into a farewell hug. The front door opened behind them by Robert, who looked relieved to see her awake.

Robert still understood they were rushing after a restless night, and his wife was a natural delicate woman. He still felt high adrenaline after witnessing what he had and doing what he had. However, in matters of delicateness, he expected this from any woman, especially the night they met at the wedding reception, but when they were in the house of Hercules Mulligan's wife he saw a vulnerable side to her that brought out the protective and over-caring man in him.

The corners of her eyes were red and looked itchy, her hands were clasped in front of her and constantly rubbing the other, and her very vibrance she normally has was dim.

"Lizzy, are you well to travel?" He moved closer to his family and reached for her forearm to rub it gently. "Did you eat something?"

"I'm well enough to make it there. I'll eat something then," she patted her Robert's chest in assurance. "And we need to replenish our necessities when we get back."

Robert nodded, "After we settle in I'll go with you to the market." Then for one final time for some time, he looked to his father respectively.

"We will try to come in for Christmas. Thank you for having us father."

"Any time son. I was just telling her how much I look forward to next year," he smiled sadly. "It wasn't supposed to be that way. I'm still sorry I didn't mention Abraham coming-"

"You didn't know. Now we don't have to mention him—we can't mention him again. If the rangers return mention none of those people," Robert reminded him.

Robert made to question him about his perspective on holidays, but he refrained. He knew not all holidays are like that, and they weren't supposed to be that way. The plain Quaker's evidence was the woman standing next to him. The one he always wanted to stare up at him in love, proudness, and wonder. Even after holding a pitiful unloaded gun at a man who had a loaded one on his wife… She still thought nothing less of him.

Every day had so many things to be thankful for outside of one horrible night that ended in best case scenario. Yes, he was finally finding some peace and worked to accept that it could have been worse, and fortunately it wasn't worse. The young Townsend couple was used to healing by now. They could get through this as long as it takes.

After Samuel and he shared a fatherly embrace, Robert placed his hat back on, got her bag, took Elizabeth's hand, and they walked out their house to the coach awaiting them to take them back to a suffocating city with an uncertain future, and a long time for healing awaiting them.

Or so they hoped.

---

A/N: All my TURN fans, don't worry, Culper Jr. comes back ;) Robert will have an epiphany at some point and realize what he must do for the good of everything. His reasoning to reconsider won't be just because of royalists hatred for Washington, or his instilled common sense. The next chapter may be the episode "Mended" but I may do one before that because the entire John Andre stuff happens in fall of 1780, and this was just fall of 1779... The Turn timeline is wacky. A time skip may be expected.

But here's a neat hint, Elizabeth may be involved in spying in the future as well in an interesting/subtle way :o And I promise things won't be as somber as this chapter.

Stay tuned! :)

-BrownEyedGirl87