Author's note: Hey cool cats and kittens, lol- no but seriously the next few chapters are gonna lean on history a little bit so… Paraphrased history lesson: The French Revolution didn't truly start for about 12- 13 years after the American Revolution was wrapped up, meaning that our characters would be nearly 30. I didn't want them to be that old because historically it would be extremely strange for Sarah's (at that age) to not have been married. They are a few years older than where the series leaves them. Henri is almost 20 and Sarah and James are about early to mid-twenties (Thus the pressure for Sarah to quickly find a husband, she's approaching "spinster" status) However James, as a male, could wait several more years and no one would bat an eye. Even though the story is set BEFORE the French Revolution really kicks off, authorities were tense about the possibility of war in Europe. The Rockingham Whig party (in England) was gaining traction with more socialist ideals and both redcoats and french loyalists were getting squirmish as new and popular philosophers challenged the idea that kings had a divine right (meaning they were chosen by God).

OK with all that in mind, remember that night that Henri and James went to the pub? Well here's what happened...

7. The Tavern

The gentlemen removed their coats and Henri watched as his older companion slumped onto a barstool, looking forlorn. While Henri's own mind was full of thoughts of Lottie, at least he could still function. James seemed absolutely useless.

"James, We have to get your mind off of Sarah." He said.

"What makes you think I was thinking about her?" James protested.

"Well, weren't you?" Henri chuckled. There was no response other than an eye roll. Then a short moment of quiet fell between them. They both ordered drinks. A clattering of trays, distant bar conversations, the scraping of stools against the old wood floor filled the silence. Once their drinks had arrived the silence continued as each of them thought about their ladies. A man, no older than James, drunkenly stumbled into an empty barstool next to them. This brought Henri back to the present.

"We need to find you a good story," Henri said, taking a long drink.

Before James could respond the drunk next to them chimed, "How's this for a story? The king of France funds the American revolution while his own people starve.

"You're French!" Henri remarked.

"And you're making fun of my accent!" The man replied.

"No, he sounds that way because he was brought up in the colonies. He's originally from France but it's been a while." James stated.

"And you?" The man inquired.

"I'm American." He perked up, proudly.

"You fight in the war?" The man leaned over so he was close enough for James to smell the ale he had apparently bathed in.

"No, I'm a journalist."

"Well then, you should write about (hiccup) what's happening in France."

"That's what I've been telling him!" Henri smiled.

"It's dangerous," James observed, "Not many people live through one war and then go seeking another."

"History is being made around the world!," Henri declared, "America was only the beginning! Can't you see Europe is changing?!" His impassioned promulgations had begun to attract attention from various persons in the pub, but James hadn't noticed- his mind had wandered back to America, and of course Sarah.

At the time, James still didn't know her very well but he didn't mind being around her quite as much. She was intelligent, which he respected and a fairly good writer too. Maybe he could change her mind about freeing the colonies?

They sat around a dying campfire at a snowy war camp outside of General Washington's tent. It was one of those crisp evenings where the cold set into your bones. Sarah had insisted they stay up to speak with the general but the night had been long and it didn't seem that he or any of his advisors was going to emerge for quite a while longer.

"Who knew planning battles took so long?" James tried to break the silence. He could see his freezing breaths as he spoke. Sarah gave a polite smile but didn't respond beyond that. A few more minutes, that felt like hours, passed and he tried again.

"If we wait out here any longer I think we'll get to watch the sunrise." He noted. She again didn't respond. Maybe he couldn't change her mind. Maybe she just hated him and that was that. James sighed, though he hadn't meant to.

"The colonies are warmer than England, everywhere it seems, except in these war camps." Sarah suddenly reflected, scooting towards the barely lit embers, "My mother would hate to see me here, with rebels. I think she'd faint if she knew where I was right at this moment, sitting here with a stranger in a camp of soldiers, freezing." She pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders.

"I guess my parents would be worried too." James frowned, pushing his hands further into his pockets, not that it helped make them any warmer.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" Sarah bit her lip, feeling embarrassed.

"No, it's ok," James said, seeing her discomfort, "I wonder about them sometimes. What they would be like and what they would think about all this."

"I think they would be very proud of you," Sarah said, touching the locket around her neck, under her cloak. Often, though she had never told him, Sarah felt a little guilty to have the one thing James had from his parents.

"Thank you," He smiled, "I think they would've liked you. You're very smart." As soon as he said it James turned bright pink. Where that compliment had come from he didn't know at the time.

"I knew there was hope." Sarah teased, "You're becoming more like a gentleman every day."

James was formulating a response, something like, "and you're becoming more American" but just then General Washington emerged from the tent and both he and Sarah jumped up with questions.

Henri slapped James's shoulder and woke him up from his trance. They had been joined by another young man.

"Gabriel, it's nice to meet you." Henri shook the man's hand.

"Likewise." The short-haired Frenchman, whose name was announced to be Gabriel replied, "It seems our friends are both indisposed. This is Louis, he's mad because his mother won't let him marry the love of his life." Gabriel patted his friend on the back and motioned for the bartender with the other hand.

"Louis has a lot of opinions about the French government, would you mind if my friend James interviewed him for our American paper?"

"I'm sure Louis would love that. He likes the sound of his own voice more than anything," Gabriel paid the bartender, "but right now I've got to get him to bed. Here's the inn where we're staying." The Frenchman left his information on a little card which Henri tucked into his coat pocket. When it was just the two of them again, he turned back to James.

"We're going to get you a story." He stated.

"It doesn't seem right that Sarah isn't allowed to write here. I mean for a paper. It's improper or something." James replied."

"I think you meant to say 'Thank you, Henri! You're such a great friend. I'm glad you found me a story.' and then pay for the drinks." Henri smiled.

They left after James did pay for the drinks, unaware that their conversation had been overheard. They returned to the Phillips's townhouse oblivious to the danger they had put themselves in.