CHAPTER THREE

February 1780

"Why do you insist on wasting perfectly good parchment writing to Father's apprentice, who has only written you back twice?" Nan asked one evening when she had entered the bedchamber that she shared with her sister only to find her at the desk, writing yet another letter.

"Father's apprentice happened to have lived with us for four years," Felicity replied hotly. She had no patience with Nan. Perfect, ladylike, nosy, Nan.

"Twas a business deal," Nan answered. "He is not part of the family. Of course you fancy him, so that is why you pine away writing letters that never get read. If Father had had an ugly apprentice, you wouldn't care in the least!"

"That is not true!" Felicity yelled. She wanted to rip Nan's hair out. How dare she?

"He is more family to me than you are!" Felicity yelled. She picked up a hairbrush and threw it across the room. Nan shrieked.

"How dare you say that to me," Nan cried. "You have always been jealous. Jealous because I do better at Miss Manderly's lessons than you ever did, I stitch better than you, my embroidery is far more advanced, I dance better, I bake better."

"At least I am the pretty one," Felicity said haughtily. Any other time Felicity would be supplying people such as Rose, her mother, and Elizabeth a long list containing why she felt that she was rather ugly, and no man would ever want her for a wife.

"I do not think that is so," Nan shot back.

"Why not?" Felicity said as she compared Nan to herself in the mirror. The first difference was that Felicity's hair was a much redder shade, Nan's more auburn. Felicity's had a tendency to want to curl, Nan's hung straight. Then there was the fact that Felicity had filled out.

"I have a nicer bosom," Felicity said coolly. Felicity knew that Nan was envious of it, She had caught Nan stuffing stockings and cloths into the bodice of her dress once, and had used it to keep Nan from squealing her own secrets to Father and Mother.

"Well I am three years younger than you. In three more years we shall see who has the nicer bosom," Nan eventually spat. "I'll forgive you because I am a gracious and honorable woman. I understand that you are just upset because your sweetheart whom you are devoted, is not that devoted to you. There are tons of beautiful ladies out there, and in the army he will be all over the colonies."

"That is not true," Felicity retorted.

"Suit yourself Lissie, but he is not engaged to you. He can do whatever he pleases. Or would you rather believe that he is dead. Knowing you, you probably do wish so because you cannot stand the fact that other girls may be better or prettier than you are."

"You are despicable," Felicity seethed. "I am ashamed to be related to you."

""Tis hard having to be the practical one," Nan said. "I forgive you Lissie, even your harsh words."

"Well I do not forgive you," Felicity snapped. "Get out of my room!"

"Tis my bedchamber too Felicity," Nan shot back.

"I am the eldest, and I hate you!" Felicity screamed. She pulled Nan harshly by the arm. Nan began to shriek and scream. Felicity thrust Nan into the hallway.

"I am telling Mother and Father about this," Nan yelled.

"Go right ahead," Felicity snapped. "Do you think I really care about anything you do?"

"No," Nan yelled cradling her arm as if it were dislocated. "You only care for yourself!"

She could hear Nan screeching to her parents about her arm being broken, and five year old Polly had witnessed the commotion in the hallway, and began crying that Felicity was trying to kill Nan. Felicity had flung herself down on her bed and wept. Not because she was in trouble with her parents, but because Nan could be right. If Ben wasn't dead, then he could very well have lost interest in her, and be taking interest in other ladies. He was a solider now, and would be seen as a hero. Felicity and Elizabeth had both been guilty of flirting with militiamen when they marched through the town. Elizabeth was the only other person who knew about what had happened over a year ago in the counting room. She did not tell Father or Mother, so they did not know that it was Ben who had started all this turmoil in their daughter, and Felicity loved and hated him at the same time for it.

At first she was angry. How dare Ben make her even more sick with worry by kissing her and telling her he loved her? Twas bad enough worrying about a close friend, but to be his girl was more intense. She had a responsibility to live up as the girl he would dream of some cold, rainy, night, while trying to sleep on the ground. That was too much responsibility for a thirteen year old. It had been Elizabeth who had changed Felicity's heart, or perhaps caused her to open it. She had listened to Felicity recall the whole incident with interest and understanding. When Felicity broke down in tears, she gave her handkerchiefs. By the end of the story, both girls were in tears.

"Felicity Merriman that is the most tragic and romantic thing I have ever heard. He loves you."

"He just wants to go off and play soldier, and most soldiers have a woman at home," Felicity muttered. "All it does to me is create worry."

"Lissie you know Ben. He is very shy around girls, and quiet with his emotions. If he stopped by your father's store on his way out of town just to declare his love for you than he has really fallen for you. Not many girls ever get to feel that. Your relationship has always been special."

From that moment Felicity was in love with Ben and she lived up to the standard of being a soldier's beloved. She wrote every few days, to the point where even her father remarked on all the parchment she was using. The letters were vivid, and filled with color. She wrote about everything that Penny and Patriot did, or the latest on Elizabeth and Joseph Dunham. One day he had dashed across the crowded street just to say hello to Elizabeth! After four months of writing, Felicity got her first reply from Ben. He gave many details about the war, and what he had seen, even some regret for joining, yet the cause always won out. However part of the letter was romantic. He wrote how he thought of their sweet kiss every night while laying awake, how he had wished he had gotten a lock of hair, and signed it your Ben.

So Felicity began writing love letters as well, with the aid of Elizabeth since at first Felicity felt like a ninny. As the year went by, Felicity had an easier time with love letters. She had different feelings, different needs. The words began to fly from her pen. Unfortunately, she only received one more letter from Ben. It was ten months ago. He was up in New York, and it was freezing cold. He had made a close friend and tent mate, but he had been killed in action. He mentioned longing for her, he asked if the gentlemen had come courting yet, said she was always in his thoughts, and signed it Love Ben.

Those two letters were all she had. She kept them bound together in her bed table with the blue cord that she had worn when she went dancing at the Governor's Palace and Ben had to escort her. She read them over and over, until she had them pretty much memorized. In ten months much could happen. He could be dead, wounded, or have given his heart to some other lucky girl.