Okay, so here's the new chapter...well, im glad some of you like this...but i guess i need to explain more...

1. in addition to the other explainations...Felicity is older in my stories...for the sake of 9yr olds dont fall in love too often

2. Mr. Merriman is going to be a loyalist...to kinda keep to the Liberty Kids theme...even tho Felicity isnt really a loyalist like Sarah is...but this is also to create some problems Felicity must overcome...prolly will play out better in future chapters...you'll see

3. im trying to keep this story historically correct...so if things dont match up with either stories, it's b/c its supposed to seem more like historical fact...and if i get things wrong, let me know...but make sure ur right before you tell me im retarded and when i looked stuff up on COLONIAL WILLIAMSBURG's site, i was remiss in my duties as a good reader

ok, so i think thats it...if you have more questions...give em to me!

enjoy all...thanks for reviewing...please do so again...

RiLeY

P.S. i didnt proof read this chapter...im too tired right now so ill do it later...if you find incorrect grammar or incomplete words...sorry

Chapter Two – Father's General Store

Duke of Gloucester street is the main road in Williamsburg and, likewise, the busiest. Even as the winter solstice approaches, villagers bustle in and out of the various stores and taverns. The building to the right of the Printing and Post Office, Dubois Grocer, is especially busy. Mrs. Dubois must have had her baby last night; evident by the number of ladies swarming the steps of the shop and greeting Mr. Dubois with their congratulations.

I smile and continue on my way, away from Mr. Dubois's Grocery Store, towards my father's general store. My silk covered shoes leave footprints in the frozen dirt scattered on the street. Every once in a while, a slight breeze would slip up my skirts, igniting my instinct to shiver. Despite my woolen cloak, seven petticoats, and woolen stockings, the blustery weather still bit at my person. Oh! How I despise the winter season.

Crossing Colonial Street, I can see Mr. Tucker exiting the Prentis Store, another general store like my father's. Mr. Prentis specializes in goods manufactured in the colonies. Father imports many of his goods from England; however, he does sell colonial made furniture and groceries. Mr. Tucker lives across the street from us on Palace Street. Given that he is for independence, he does not favor father very much, yet he is kind to father and the rest of my family. His daughter, Mary is my most faithful friend and companion. We do almost everything together.

"Good Morning Miss Felicity!" called out Mr. Tucker while tipping his three-cornered hat in greeting.

"Good Morning Mr. Tucker," I said as I hurried to catch up to him. He bowed his head slightly when I reached him and I returned it with a curtsy. He motioned for me to continue down Duke of Gloucester street with him. "Sir, how does Mary fair today?" I asked about my friend as we continued our walk. She had been ill with a slight cold for the past two days and I was worried for her health.

"Her health improves dear child. I have no doubt that she will be out riding her horse within the hour. She asked for you yesterday, but my wife did not want to endanger your health as well."

"That was thoughtful of Mrs. Tucker. I've truly missed Mary these past few days and I will do my best to stop by your home after midday," I told him, hoping he would not object.

"No, I'm afraid that will not do," he said, clasping his hands behind his back in a stance of authority. "But," he started. I looked up expectantly before he continued, "I, and I'm sure my wife and Mary, would much rather you come by for the midday meal. That is, if it is all right with your parents," he finished with a smile.

"I think father and mother will be glad to hear of my invitation and will allow me to visit the Tucker household. It would be a pleasure Mr. Tucker," I replied with enthusiasm. I noticed we had reached my father's store at the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Palace Street.

"Very well. We shall see you at noon then?" He nodded in farewell before tuning up Palace Street, toward his home. I watched him walk away from me, along-side the frozen grounds of the Palace Green, behind which stood the Governor's Palace; a magnificent building one block up from my house. As I gazed at the immense residence, the ornate iron gates closed after a fancy carriage, most likely carrying the governor, passed through into the protective fortress.

I turned back to father's store, and made my way to the front door, over which hung a wooden sign emblazoned with a cargo ship and the words: Greenhow General Store. My mother's father was the founder of the store and the Mr. John Greenhow. When my father married my mother, he promised my grandfather he would carry on the business for him once he retires. Father has been running grandfather's store for five years now.

It is a fair job for him, yet sometimes it keeps him away from home. Once every month, he travels to Philadelphia to export and import goods for the store. It just so happens that he is taking his leave tomorrow for his voyage north, meaning I get to spend more time in the Printing and Post Office this week. A smile grew on my face as I glided through the door, causing a small bell to alert my father that someone had entered the shop.

"Ah, Miss Merriman! So nice to see you again," greeted father in a jovial tone of voice. He always played this game with me, where he would pretend I was a customer in his store. "Here to buy a new ribbon for your Christmas gown? I suggest blue. From what Miss Margaret Hunter told me this morning when I entered her store, blue is the newest fashion."

I was idling by the packages of cards, cotton and wood dolls, and some wooden hoops; in short, the fascinating toys of my father's shop. I looked to his face to see a knowing smile. "Father, what were you doing in the Millinery shop? You have no shirts needing adjustments or mending. Surely you do not mean to buy a gown for yourself!" I finished with laughter. Father chuckled right along with me, walking out from behind his counter. Besides the fact the he is loyal to the Crown, he is a kind and good-hearted man. Father could always cheer me up, unless of course, if he was ranting about the patriots.

"Well, little miss," he replied using my childhood nickname, "It just so happens that I bought you a gown for the Governor's Christmas Ball."

"Oh father!" I cried running into his outstretched arms. He walked briskly behind his counter and returned with a newspaper-covered box. He handed the package to me and I swiftly began ripping off the wrapping; becoming more and more excited every second. I tore off the box lid and let my eyes fall upon my new gift. I let out a cry of glee as I gazed at the wonderful gown.

It was made of royal blue silk, probably the finest from England, with a white lace stomacher, and lace trimmed sleeves that flared out slightly at the elbow. All in all, the gown was the most beautiful piece of clothing I've ever seen. This would surely enhance my appearance and please both the Governor and the Governess.

"Well go try it on silly! Run on home to your mother and show her! Oh! I have a better idea!" father said grabbing my shoulders to stop me from running out the shop door. "Why don't you put it on here and wear it through town and surprise your mother?" I nodded before he scurried me off to the back storeroom to change.

Slipping off my old, dark green day dress, I picked up the new fashionable gown. I checked my stays to make sure they were still tied tightly and finally, I pulled on my new Christmas dress. The silk fabric clung to my body and accentuated every womanly curve of my person. Luckily, my father knows I don't enjoy the newest fashion from France, where they claim a low cut bodice is the height of style right now.

I smoothed out the wrinkles in the skirt and walked back into the main front room of the shop where father was checking out Mr. Patrick Henry. Even though he is known to be a radical patriot, he is still a kind man to father and every other loyalist. He smiled at me as I waltzed towards him grinning, my silky skirt swishing with every step.

"Mr. Henry," I acknowledged with a curtsy.

"Miss Felicity, as always, you look wonderful," he replied civilly. I turned to glance at father to see a spark of pride in his eyes as he looked on. I snapped him out of it when I handed him his package from Mr. Sanders.

"Ah, yes, the ink I asked for. Thank you Miss Merriman," he cheerfully stated, placing the packages on a shelf under his counter he was standing behind. "Now run along home and show your mother your new gown."

"Thank you again father," I glanced at Patrick Henry and nodded to him saying, "Mr. Henry."

"A pleasure, Miss Felicity," he said grinning. I stepped out onto the main street again, this time, facing the Governor's Palace. Just as I was beginning to walk towards the palace and my home, I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see who it was, it wasn't James, but it certainly was someone important!

"Miss Felicity!" It was Patrick Henry. When he reached me, we were standing next to Bruton Parish Church, on the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Palace Street.

"Forgive my forwardness, but Mr. Thomas Jefferson told me you are a patriot. Does he speak true?" He sounded eager for my response. My eyes darted to all the townspeople walking by us, staring at us conversing in the middle of the road.

I felt so strange, standing there on the main street where everyone could see me in my eye catching royal blue gown speaking with one of the most influential men of Williamsburg. I looked down at the ground, afraid he would create a scene; causing father to come outside to investigate.

"Do you wish to go somewhere more private?" He suggested. I nodded and he held out his arm. I gracefully accepted it and together, we walked further down Duke of Gloucester, past the grand Bruton Parish Church, and in the direction of Hartwell Perry's Tavern. Given that it was late morning, the only customers that were there, were waiting for a midday meal, meaning no drunkards were present. Upon seeing Mr. Henry, the host bustled to an out of the way space and beckoned us to it once he was finished cleaning it up.

I followed Mr. Henry into the secluded room where he pulled out a chair for me before taking his own seat. As was custom, I waited for him to speak to me first. It took him a while to realize what I was waiting for, then suddenly, he cleared his throat and said, "Same question Miss Felicity. Speak freely." His gaze intensified, boring into my skull, forcing me to answer.

"I shall speak not a lie. I am a patriot, Mr. Henry," I said simply. He grinned from ear to ear before commenting.

"Welcome to the Revolution Miss Merriman. Now, I have an important question for you." He waited to see my expression but my facial features didn't change. "What do you know about being a spy?"