Author's note: In this AUhuman! Klaroline story set during the Revolutionary War, shopkeeper Caroline is part of a notorious spy ring for the patriots. And now an annoying, smug British soldier keeps stopping by to add to her anxieties...
Also, I started two new Klaroline stories because I apparently have commitment issues and can't focus on just one story. :) One is called Building a Facade and the other is Lightning Never Strikes Twice (Except When It Does). If you're interested, I'd be so grateful to you guys if you let me know what you think about my latest works!
"Patriotism is as much a virtue as justice, and is as necessary for the support of societies as natural affection is for the support of families." — Benjamin Rush, 1773
Her candle shop smelled like a chamber pot. How in all of creation did that beetle-headed Victoria manage to accomplish such a feat? Caroline stomped her way into her small shop, throwing open the wooden shutters of the two small windows and shoved two large goose feather fans into the spindly arms of her clerk. Cocking her eyebrow, she said gruffly, "Thou art the one who used rancid hog fat to make a batch of candles; therefore, thou hath the task of banishing that infernal stench out of the shop!"
The girl turned to her task, murmuring apologies for her forgetfulness, and Caroline somehow managed to tuck back in her scoff of derision as she recalled that just yesterday she had patiently explained to Victoria that candles made of hog fat carried a stench most foul in addition to excessive sputtering and smoking. Instead, her shop's tallow candles were a clever combination of sheep and beef fat, which seemed to carry a much more pleasant odor and longer-lasting light. In a huff, she finally sent her off to market for additional supplies, noting that they were running low on a number of items.
She realized that part of her bad humor had nothing to do with her irritation with her clerk's folly, but instead her own anxiousness about what the week would bring. 'Twas the price she paid for trafficking in secrets. Sometimes, as she walked through the market, she fancied that she carried the secrets upon her skin, that they were stained upon her flesh for the world to see. While Virginia Colony had produced some of the greatest patriots the war knew — from General Washington to Thomas Jefferson — unfortunately, her small township of Mystic Falls remained fiercely loyal to the crown. The few families who were true patriots were forced to hide their feelings about the war lest the damnable loyalists sent them to the gallows.
When her childhood friend, Matthew Donovan, sought her out in confidence, he confessed that he recently was made a lieutenant in General Washington's Continental Army, and he asked her to pass him intelligence to aid in the war effort. After quickly agreeing, she became anointed as one of the invaluable spies of the notorious patriot spy ring, the Travelers. She became learned in the secret of the 'sympathetic stain', a clever form of invisible ink that General Washington instructed his agents to use in their messages. Once she constructed a coded message, she would push the paper into the bottom of a candle and smooth additional wax over it. Then, when a courier for the Travelers appeared, she would sell him a batch of candles that easily could be smuggled through enemy lines undetected.
The Travelers had had rousing success thus far, and Caroline's secret messages revealed the surprising weaknesses of the British fort that guarded the route to Norfolk. With her help, the Virginia militia laid siege upon the unsuspecting British, and secured the fort during the Battle of the Great Bridge. 'Twas a stunning victory for the patriots, and Caroline vowed to bring them more, despite the shadow of the noose that awaited all traitors to the crown.
As she began the tedious process of weaving together the delicate linen fibers to craft sturdy wicks, she thought back to Matthew's latest message to her. The Travelers' faithful courier had been intercepted and imprisoned to await a farcical trial in which the poor soul's fate already had been decided. A new courier would arrive at her shop sometime this week, announcing his presence by uttering the phrase, "Tie it with a blue ribbon."
She anxiously awaited his arrival as it would take her mind off of the latest influx of a detestable regiment of British soldiers who had taken residence at the local tavern, Silas' Cure. Led by arrogant Lieutenant Niklaus Mikaelson, she took special delight in undermining his war efforts by leaning heavily on intelligence reports from her friend Katherine who worked there. It never ceased to astound her at the carelessness of a man's words when they were in the presence of what they perceived to be a harmless woman.
Lieutenant Mikaelson himself had wandered into her shop when his soldiers first arrived, his swaggering, boastful mannerisms immediately setting her teeth on edge. Victoria had worked herself into a tizzy as she tended to his purchases, fluttering her eyelashes and swooning over his dimples. In a huff of impatience, she finally dismissed her to the back so that she could conclude the detestable redcoat's business and shoo him out of her shop with as much strained politeness as she could muster.
Instead, he seemed to delight in stretching out their interaction as long as possible, commenting upon the mild weather and asking after her family's health. She absolutely refused to acknowledge how his gray eyes twinkled with merriment at her clipped words or the pleasing way his lips seemed to curl up whenever he addressed her as 'Mistress Forbes'. Her heart palpitations in his presence were merely the result of porridge mixed with goat's milk that had soured. And nothing more.
As though summoned by her shameful thoughts, Lieutenant Mikaelson strutted across the threshold, wearing a devilish smirk that had her furiously fighting back the blush that wanted to stain her cheeks red.
"Good day, Mistress Forbes," he greeted her, his dimples on display as he removed his officer's hat in a sweeping gesture, bowing his curly head respectfully. "How fare thee on this fine day?"
Caroline hated how the breath seemed to leave her when that infernal man appeared, as though her corset was too tight and she may faint. Flashing him an overly bright smile, she quickly placed the remnants of the hardened hog lard into the large iron cauldron over the fire, the powerful odor wafting over the flames as she stirred the concoction with a thick wooden paddle. "'Tis a fine day, Lieutenant Mikaelson, but one that should be spent out-of-doors as I fear thou hath caught me on rendering day and the odors art far from pleasant." She couldn't help the bite in her sweet tone as she added from underneath her lashes, "We mustn't spoil thy fine officer's vestments with such a foul stench."
His gray eyes twinkled as though he realized her attempts to shoo him out of her shop with haste. "Nonsense. Thou shall discover that a gentleman is willing to endure any number of trials to bask in the presence of a lovely maiden."
She barely contained a scoff as she batted aside his empty words. She noted the exquisite silver filigree work of the fierce wolf's head upon the pommel of his sabre, denoting him to be a man of wealth and privilege. Officer ranks such as his often were awarded based upon surname and affluence. No doubt his display of opulence and power along with his pleasing appearance drew many a starry-eyed maiden to him, and he must often spout such pretty, meaningless words.
Her calculating blue gaze swept over his fine scarlet overcoat trimmed in silver braid, a well-ballasted officer's uniform that only served to fuel her anger when she thought of the blood of good patriots that hath spilled upon it during this wretched war. She adjusted her linen cap, pushing an errant blonde curl away from her forehead as she told him, "Thou flatter me with thy honeyed words, Lieutenant Mikaelson. I'm sure many a fair maiden anxiously awaits thy return to English soil."
He shook his head, dimples bracketing his indulgent smile as he confessed, "None that hath caught my fancy as much as a lovely blonde shopkeeper who seems to delight in sharpening her clever tongue upon my every breath." He reached into his overcoat, removing a small bit of parchment tied with a length of leather. "I'd considered offering thou a trinket, a small token of my esteem, but feared thy wrath if thou deemed it an insult. Instead, I present a simple sketch, and pray thou look upon it in the spirit of friendship with which 'tis offered, Mistress Forbes."
Heart fluttering, Caroline felt her breath catch as she gazed upon her own face with lips curled into a teasing smile as she stood at her shop's front window, one hand resting against her cheek. She was struck speechless not only by the depth of his artistry, but also by the curious fact he would willingly share his work with her. She gently touched the curled edges of the parchment, not trusting herself to speak as her thoughts raced.
"Forgive my forwardness," Niklaus broke the silence, a seemingly uncharacteristic nervousness entering his voice, "Thy beauty lingered long after I'd returned to my quarters and it vexed me until I recorded every blessed detail." She watched in amazement as his ivory skin suddenly bloomed with color.
Clearing her throat, she favored him with her first genuine smile since they met. "There art no words to describe thy talent, Lieutenant Mikaelson. Thou hath my thanks for such a thoughtful gift." She hated the feeling of regret that tugged at her. This was a British officer and no matter how handsome or earnest his attentions might be, she could never turn her back on the cause of her homeland. She must continue her work under the guise of a damnable loyalist, so that she could ensure her people's freedom.
He seemed on the verge of asking her something, but instead straightened his spine as the brass bell over her door rang, announcing another customer. He gestured vaguely toward her pine shelves where she kept the costly beeswax candles, and asked her to put together a parcel for him. While she carefully wrapped his purchase, she nodded at Jeremiah Gilbert who stood off to the side awkwardly.
Jeremiah was Katherine's little brother, and she recalled the way he would follow them around begging for sweets as they traipsed through the market square. Lately he had been coming around more and while pleasant company, it always seemed as though he were delaying his leave to the point that she nearly had to shoo him from her shop so that she could complete a day's work. A thought suddenly struck her that now that Jeremiah was of age, he could conceivably be the Travelers' new mystery courier. Especially since his sister was loyal to the patriot's cause.
She inwardly sighed as she watched the men take each other's measure, and she wondered how much longer Niklaus would tarry before he was on his way. She was certain that if Jeremiah was the courier, he would possess enough sense not to blurt out the secret phrase within earshot of the British officer. His brown eyes regarded Caroline warmly as he greeted her, and he comically sidestepped the soldier to stand closer to the counter. He paused in his ramblings about the weather, wrinkling his nose slightly at the rancid smell of hog fat, and she told herself she would reduce the number of coin she charged him for his purchases because of it. Curse that vexing redcoat for costing her profits!
"Mistress Forbes, what an enchanting drawing — thy lovely visage is rendered well," Jeremiah told her, angling his body in a curious manner as though trying to block her view of Niklaus.
Caroline let out a bark of laughter as she shook her head at the young man's antics. Barely a man but already such a shameless flirt. She was certain he would catch the eye of a sweet girl soon. "Thy flowery sentiments art growing bolder, Master Gilbert. I pray thou save thy best compliments for a worthy maiden." She inclined her head at Niklaus who seemed to be taking in the scene with a glint of good humor and she added, "Although thy compliments art well-taken as Lieutenant Mikaleson was the esteemed creator."
Frowning slightly, Jeremiah impatiently flicked his gaze at the soldier before returning his attention Caroline. "Yes, well, clearly an officer has more time to spare than one would assume." He curiously seemed to puff out his chest as though taken by dropsy, and continued with, "Such idleness is a rarity for a planter; therefore, where I choose to spend my precious few moments art quite telling."
"Indeed," Niklaus intoned, a devilish smirk appearing as he kept glancing at Caroline as though sharing a secret. "Quite enlightening, Master Gilbert." He inclined his curly head respectfully toward Caroline and stepped away, announcing, "I must pay a visit to Master Lockwood's forge. I will return for my parcel midday, Mistress Forbes."
She nodded her assent, pleased that finally they would be free of the British soldier's dizzying presence and Jeremiah would utter the secret phrase of the Travelers' courier. However, as she observed the broad shoulders of Niklaus as he left her shop, she couldn't deny the secret thrill she felt that she would see him later that day. Admonishing herself for her foolish, even traitorous thoughts, she returned her attention to Jeremiah, who seemed especially aquiver.
He swiped at the back of his neck, flushed as though with fever and she pitied the sweet boy for the strenuous labor he performed on the Gilbert farm — it seemed to be affecting him more than usual. She was starting to think it would be a mercy if he wasn't the courier as he seemed overtaken by the strain of his task. Finally, he said, "Mistress Forbes, pray do not think me too bold in my query..." he paused, swiping at his brow, and she readied herself to hear the secret code of the Travelers: Tie it with a blue ribbon. "Would thou attend the harvest celebration with me," he blurted out in one long phrase, as though relieved to hath finally spoken the words.
Caroline blinked repeatedly, trying to reconcile both her surprise that her dear friend's young brother was not the courier and also that the boy viewed her in a romantic manner. "Oh," she said in a strangled voice, reaching for gentle words to dispel his illusions of a romantic entanglement with her. "Master Gilbert, I'm flattered of course, but —"
"The lady hath already agreed to attend with me, young Master Gilbert," Her flailing attempts were mercifully cut off by the confident voice of Niklaus, who had returned unexpectedly to the shop. Seeing the British soldier's knowing smirk made her hackles rise even as she felt relief that Jeremiah likely would now move on to a more suitable companion than one who forever would look upon him as a younger brother.
Jeremiah's sweet, boyish face fell at Niklaus' words but as he left, he managed to mumble bland pleasantries as he bid them both a pleasant day. Once the boy was gone, Caroline raised a critical eyebrow at Niklaus. "Art all brothers of the blade as presumptuous as thou, Lieutenant Mikaelson?"
He leaned against the counter, a lazy smile perched upon his lips as her shrill tone washed over him. "Was I mistaken in assuming thy affections for young Master Gilbert ran toward that of a sibling rather than a paramour?"
Her cheeks flushed at the way he deliberately said 'paramour', as though his wicked tongue wished to lovingly caress the word between them. She quickly distracted herself by retying her apron strings, nearly ripping the thin cotton in her haste. Straightening her spine, she answered, "While I hath no desire to attend with a boy I hold to be a brother, that doesn't mean that thou art a suitable escort." Lightly scoffing, she added, "We've no common ground, Lieutenant Mikaelson, and I fear boredom would overtake thee."
Niklaus seemed to take her rebuke as a challenge, and he moved closer than could be deemed proper as his gray eyes twinkled in merriment. "Thou art mistaken, Mistress Forbes. I suspect we share more common ground than ye perceive."
Raising a skeptical brow, Caroline reached for the soldier's parcel, fiddling with the brown string to tie it securely. Her hands stilled and she nearly dropped the parcel in shock when she heard Niklaus say, "On second thought, why don't ye tie it with a blue ribbon?"
