"You have a great deal of affection for him, don't you, Miss?"
"Pardon? A great deal of affection for whom?"
"Your brother," Gamble clarified, nodding towards where Louisa could see John across the room, engrossed in a conversation with one of the other many soldiers that had flocked to their home, "You have hardly taken your eyes away from him the entire evening."
"Have you been tracking my movements that carefully, Lieutenant?" Louisa replied, regarding the man who sat opposite her upon the sofa, glass of madeira balanced carefully in one hand while the other rested, palm flat, upon the fabric of the breeches that covered his thigh.
"It seems difficult not to, Miss. Not when you are, by far, the loveliest woman in the room."
"You flatter me, Lieutenant. There are plenty here that are much fairer than I."
"Not to me."
Unsure of how best to reply to such an advance without seeming either too coy, or too self-assured, Louisa opted instead for attempting a faint smile and keeping her silence, her attention shifting to where her hands rested in her lap for a moment while she endeavored to collect her thoughts. Though she did her best to ignore it, she could feel a flush beginning to form upon her cheeks, whether by direct consequence of the madeira she, herself, had consumed, or Gamble's chosen course of discussion, she could not tell. And before she could allow the realization to fully take hold, and render her incapable of carrying on as she had been for the entirety of the evening thus far, Louisa forced herself to square her shoulders and lift her gaze once more, her eyes meeting the lighter blue of his own before she summoned the wherewithal to speak once more.
"Perhaps you ought to be more careful with your praise, Lieutenant. It may serve you better with your fellow soldiers than it would with me."
"You would have me call them beautiful? I confess, Miss, I am not entirely certain I would enjoy that conversation in the slightest," Gamble remarked, one corner of his mouth turning up in response to the soft laugh that escaped from his companion, though the way her hand almost automatically lifted to cover her mouth indicated she had not wished for such a thing to become apparent in the first place, "Not to mention they would then have grounds to retaliate in whatever way they saw fit."
"Would they not be kinder if you gave them more of your attention?"
"There is plenty of time for that in camp."
"But does it not seem disrespectful to ignore them so completely tonight?" Louisa pressed, aware of the almost immediate shake of the head that her companion gave by way of response, and yet choosing to press on in her current course of distraction, regardless, "Doubtless, some of them at least must have noticed your preoccupation."
"If they do, Miss, I must admit I hardly care."
"Lieutenant Gamble, you are too kind."
"Not kind, Miss. Just practical."
Unable to resist the soft laugh that came in response to the quip, Louisa once again redirected her attention to looking towards her brother, her eyes narrowing as she realized he had abandoned his earlier conversation, and was now regarding her with no short supply of interest. Of course, she had no doubt that he would have noted her continued presence at Lieutenant Gamble's side, though she had thought to hope that he would think of it as no more than a simple attempt to be a proper hostess.
Knowing John as she did, perhaps that simple hope only made her a fool.
Frowning as the thought came to mind, Louisa forced herself to turn back towards the Lieutenant at her side, a serene smile tugging at her lips as she regarded him for a moment in silence, his expression perplexed, to say the least, until she leaned forward to snatch the half-empty glass in his hand to place upon the table.
"I find I am quite eager to dance again, Lieutenant. Won't you join me?"
If her brother wanted a show, then Louisa supposed it was only proper for her to oblige.
…
After the guests had departed, Louisa found herself in the company of an as-yet unfamiliar servant, assisting in the task of putting the house to rights even in spite of the knowledge that such a thing was not required of her at all. John had always teased her for having an active mind. One that required constant activity, and work for the hands as well. And in spite of the fact that she knew she was only prompting more of the same, as well as delaying the inevitability of his decision to question her over her actions related to Lieutenant Gamble, Louisa persisted in helping the woman who had introduced herself as Abigail in moving one of the tables back to its original position behind the large sofa before the fireplace, one of her brows lifting as she realized that she had very nearly missed what the woman was saying to her, in her own distraction.
"You don't need to be troubling yourself with this, Miss Andre. I can manage just fine on my own."
"Nonsense, Abigail. I do happen to be tasked with the running of this household, do I not?"
"And directing those who are hired for the task, Miss Andre."
"Louisa."
"Pardon?"
"My name is Louisa," The young woman clarified, hoping that the smile she gave the other woman would temper any potential recrimination in the correction, and finding herself more than a little pleased to note that her comment had earned her a smile, albeit a small one, in return, "Miss always makes me feel so-so-"
"So what, Miss-Louisa?"
"Old."
Sharing in the laughter that broke free between them, Louisa felt herself confronted with a strange sense of warmth, even in spite of her lingering apprehension over what was to come, her fingertips smoothing over the polished wooden surface of the table as soon as it had been placed where it belonged. Whatever apprehension Abigail may have felt, being in a new home, and working for a new mistress, for the moment, at least, it appeared that trepidation had been set aside. And Louisa would have been lying to pretend she was not abundantly grateful for that reality, particularly when she found she would be far more likely to obtain honesty and straightforward replies from Abigail herself, than she would from any of the other high-born ladies that had attended the gathering at her home that night.
Though she was but a servant, the woman had a steady sort of surety about her that Louisa caught herself admiring, despite having only known her for a mere hour, at the most.
"Ah, I see you've met Abigail."
Ignoring how her heart seemed to jump at the familiar voice, and the amusement that was so apparent in the spoken words, Louisa turned without second thought to face her brother directly, her expression settling into a mask of calm indifference despite the smile that tugged at her lips.
She knew he would likely read her true feelings, anyway, but that did not mean it would not be amusing to try thwarting his efforts however she could.
"I have. She is wonderful, John, though I'm certain you already know that."
"High praise, from you."
"It seems well-deserved."
"I am happy to hear it," John remarked, glancing towards the servant in question, only to note that she appeared to have averted her eyes, whether because of his presence, or the earnestness in his sister's words, he could not tell, "Might I borrow Louisa for a moment, Abigail? It would seem there are some things she and I need to discuss."
"Of course, Major Andre."
After offering Abigail one final smile by way of parting, Louisa allowed herself to take her brother's arm so that he might begin to escort her from the room, her eyes drifting towards his face in hopes of determining his mood. Of course, she was not that surprised when she failed, though she did seem entirely incapable of restraining the pout that came to her lips in response. And it was only when John had succeeded in leading them into another one of the spacious Philadelphia home's parlors, and closed the door behind them that she realized he was not at all in the mood for jokes, her brow furrowing as she allowed her hand to drop back to her side, while she watched her brother move towards the fireplace to place one hand upon the mantle before he spoke.
"What are you playing at, Louisa?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, John."
"Don't do that. Not with me," John demanded, never once turning from the fire, though the low-pitched quality of the request seized at Louisa's heart, regardless, "General Clinton told me everything."
"I fail to see what he might have told you that is so troubling," Louisa assured, smoothing her palms against her skirts, and watching the tension that was so apparent between her brother's shoulders with rapt attention. She could sense that he was trying not to be upset with her, whatever her perceived slight may have been. And although she knew it would serve her far better to confess to her intentions, Louisa resisted, some manner of stubborn pride prompting her to straighten her own shoulders and remain rather defiantly in place, her voice cool as she spoke into the silence between them once again.
"You did promise me I would not remain in the dark for long."
"And that was a promise I intended to keep. Why could you not trust me on that?"
"I do trust you."
"You could stand to do a better job showing it."
Frowning in the wake of the retort she honestly should have seen coming, Louisa forced herself into motion, her feet nearly soundless as they moved against the plush carpeting beneath them until she was at her brother's side. Cautiously, she extended a hand, ignoring the slight tremble in her fingers as she brought them to rest as lightly as she dared against John's shoulder. And although she half-expected him to pull away, given the tension that was so evident in his stance, Louisa found that John was instead leaning towards her, blue eyes meeting her own as he turned to look at her directly, a small furrow marring his brow.
"Do you truly think you are the only one to worry, Louisa?"
"I suppose I had not given it much thought."
"Yes, well, perhaps you should," John cautioned, moving away from the touch of his sister's hand, and allowing a sigh to escape as he noted how Louisa's features almost immediately flickered into a sign of remorse in response, "There are certain matters in my personal life that I dare not trust in the hands of others."
"And I am one of these-matters-I suppose?"
Aware of the barely veiled disdain hidden behind Louisa's words, John was entirely unable to stifle a soft laugh, a resigned shake of the head once again causing her eyes to narrow before he spoke to ease her suspicions and prove, he hoped, that they were far off the mark.
"Not a matter, Louisa, no. But a person of great importance to me, as I believe you already know."
"Yes, but you use that as a reason to keep me sheltered, John! You shield me, when you ought to be using me!"
"Using you."
"Yes!" Louisa enthused, steeling herself against the obvious displeasure that readily visible in John's expression, and exhaling what she hoped would be a steadying breath before going on so he could not find some means to stop her, "What is the one weapon no one would ever see coming?"
"I have no idea."
"You do. You know you do, you just do not wish to admit it."
"Louisa-"
"No. No, John, if I do not get to play the fool with you, then you can at least do me the courtesy of refraining from doing the same."
"You would refer to yourself as a weapon, then," John surmised, his expression softening just a bit even as he struggled against the momentary vice that fear had clamped around his heart at what Louisa appeared to be suggesting, "Forgive me if I do not agree with you."
"I never thought that you would. But even you ought to be able to see that it bears consideration."
"Does it?"
"It does," Louisa confirmed, hoping that her expression would prove convincing, and not off-putting as she risked a step closer towards her brother, and laid a hand against his forearm before going on, "John, please, at least admit to that."
"You would have me allow you to seduce a Continental officer?"
"Certainly not. But I can still get close to one, if given the chance."
"No."
"John-"
"The answer is no," Her brother repeated, once again turning back towards the fireplace, and this time placing both hands upon the mantle to lean over the flames as though they might stand a chance at holding the answers he was looking for, "I believe you are intelligent enough to recognize that negotiation will be futile."
Her lips tightening out of a desire to avoid saying something she knew she would likely regret, Louisa spent only a moment rooted to the spot, before turning on a heel and preparing to depart, her skirts rustling as she prepared to exit the parlor, and head upstairs to her rooms instead. She had just reached the door, her fingertips brushing against the handle, a spasm of relief rolling through her as she allowed herself the luxury of acknowledging that she had not, in fact, allowed her passion for her apparently thwarted cause to get the better of her. But before she could make her exit completely she was aware of the slightly softer sound of her brother's voice, calling after her, her body freezing in place as she squeezed her eyes shut to keep the sudden well of tears at bay.
"I promised our mother I would keep you safe, Louisa. That is something I intend to do until my dying day."
Remaining still, and silent, Louisa knew that her brother would understand her sudden descent into speechlessness, no matter how it stung her pride to have been rendered silent at his hands. Ever since she could remember, the two of them had enjoyed verbal sparring, often to the exasperation of both their parents, and those that spent any significant amount of time in their company, as well. But now, as much as she hated to do it, Louisa was forced to concede to a momentary defeat, her disappointment over the fact only tempered by the next suggestion that her brother gave her.
It was an olive branch, albeit a meager one, and Louisa knew better than to even make an attempt at objecting when she knew her brother was simply trying to make amends.
"It would seem we have been invited to dine at the house of Judge Edward Shippen at the close of the week. Perhaps you would relieve me of some of the tedium by accompanying me?"
"I suppose, John. Assuming you promise to dance with me at least once. I'm not entirely certain how many more broken promises of the same I can take."
For now, at least, it appeared they had reached a tentative truce, though Louisa knew her own desire to be of use would likely not allow that to last for long.
…
Hello, darling readers! And welcome to chapter three in Louisa's tale! I know, I know, I failed to bring Ben into this chapter, once again. But rewatching season two of Turn, I just couldn't help but want to try to develop a teeny start of a friendship between Louisa and Peggy before our girl ends up spirited off to the rebel camp. So hopefully you all don't hate me *too* much for going this way. I promise, whether it seems like it now, or not, there really is a method to my madness!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to those of you that have decided to give this story a chance (and special gratitude, as always, to ChiTown4ever for leaving such lovely feedback the last time around). I appreciate the support so, so very much, and as always, I am excited to see what everyone thinks this time around!
Until next time, dears…
MOMM