Again, this has been kicking about on my laptop. Thanks to those who reviewed. They made me smile.

Enjoy...

CHAPTER TWO

REVELATIONS

You got a quick snap-lock on your cold, cold heart

...

"What do you mean he is a woman?"

The young lieutenant flinched under William's steely glare. He swallowed, hard. "Those were Captain Bordon's words, sir. I am only repeating what he said."

Tossing aside the letter in his hand, William strode past the officer without another word. He walked the short distance to the medical tent and batted the canvas flap aside like it was an irksome fly. Bordon was in quiet conversation with Peter Marlow, the regimental surgeon. As William crossed the tent to join them, his gaze flickered to the only occupied bed; there, he saw the boy – woman – and she was still clearly unconscious. Despite the bandage wrapped around her head, her femininity was obvious now. How had he not seen it before?

"Well, Bordon," he said in a clipped tone. "Do you care to explain?"

"You are fortunate she was not killed, Colonel," Marlow said. "It would have been very bad form indeed."

Annoyance swarmed in William's ice-blue eyes as he slid his gaze in the physician's direction. "I do not remember asking for your opinion, Marlow."

Marlow bristled slightly, but he did not respond to William's derisive remark. Instead, he turned to Bordon and said, "I have a round to complete; her condition should not worsen, but if it does, send one of your men to fetch me."

"Thank you, doctor," Bordon said.

As Marlow left the tent, William walked over to the woman's bed. Her hair had been loosened from the queue it had been tied back in; dark chocolate curls now framed her delicately formed features. She seemed quite harmless, vulnerable even, yet, he had glimpsed in her cold determination which belied that. Who was she? And why was she masquerading as a young man? It seemed strange to him that she had not revealed her true identity after her capture if only to be spared from hanging.

"I think I might have an idea of who she is."

William shifted his gaze from the woman to Bordon. "Go on..."

"Three weeks ago, Colonel Tarleton was sent to seize the plantation of General Timothy Cartwright. It was rumoured that his daughter was still living there, but when Tarleton's men searched the house, there was no sign of her." Bordon reached into his pocket and took out a letter. "I received this from one of my contacts more than a week ago. It seems that General Cartwright's daughter is not with him; in fact, he has sent scouts in search of her."

Glancing from Bordon to the woman, he said, "And has there been any sign of her?"

"Not that I am aware. She has simply...vanished."

"Are any of your contacts familiar with the general's daughter?"

Bordon shook his head. "No."

William's lips thinned in disappointment. Having a scout identify her would have made things much easier. He did not expect that she would be very forthcoming, considering the lengths she had gone to conceal her identity.

"Keep a guard posted at the tent entrance at all times," William said. He moved away from the woman's bedside. "And I want to know when she awakens."

"What about clothes?" Bordon said.

William's brow rose. "Clothes?"

Bordon motioned a bucket on the floor by the bed. There was a pair of breeches and a bloodied shirt inside it.

An idea suddenly took shape in William's mind. "Have Lily bring her something to wear."

Bordon seemed to wrestle with the idea for a moment, almost as if he had had a glimpse into William's mind. In the end, he nodded. "I'll see to it right away."

Giving the captain a curt nod, William left the tent. As he walked through the camp, he became more and more convinced that Lily Bordon would be able to discover the identity of the woman. She had already shown she was unafraid of either him or Bordon, and she had not even flinched at the prospect of an untimely death. But, perhaps, she might be more forthcoming with Lily. After all, Lily was the quintessential demure wife and affectionate mother.

...

Grace opened her eyes slowly, the blissful numbness quickly vanishing, replaced instead with the dull, throbbing ache in her right temple. She groaned as she reached out to touch where it hurt, but was surprised to find a bandage had been wrapped around her head. The grogginess in her mind suddenly gave way to memories of what had happened to the other militiamen. Were any of them still alive?

As she took her hand away from her head, she realised, to her horror, her shirt had been removed; the only thing protecting her modesty was the blanket covering her. So, her secret was in the open. At least she did not need to fear the hangman's noose anymore. But, she knew the British would not simply allow her to walk free, even if they did think she had taken leave of her senses. She could survive imprisonment, the one thing she couldn't survive, however, would be for the British to discover her true identity. Oh, they would not hesitate to use her in their propaganda war. She could almost imagine what the Whig newspapers would print: Disgraced general's daughter caught impersonating a man.

Any hope she ever had of earning her father's love would be utterly destroyed.

A shaft of light suddenly cut through the gloominess of the tent. Grace stiffened on the bed, expecting to see the intimidating figure of Colonel Tavington, but instead, she saw a woman carrying a lantern. She hung it up on a hook suspended from the canvas roof, and it filled the tent with a soft glow. Grace watched the woman with an air of suspicion as she set a cloth sack onto the floor. She then looked towards her and smiled.

"Oh, you're awake."

Grace did not answer her, but she didn't seem overly bothered.

"My name is Lily..." It was held out like an invitation, one that required Grace to respond in kind, but still kept quiet. Lily seemed to sense her unwillingness, yet instead of pressing the matter, she proceeded to open the sack. "I brought you some clothes to wear. They're a bit worn, but I'm sure they will do for the meantime."

The first gown Lily took out was pale blue and very plain, not like the elegant gowns she was accustomed to wearing. Still, Grace was touched by her kindness.

"Thank you," she said.

Lily smiled again. "I was beginning to think you were mute." She smoothed out the gown and draped it over the back of a chair. "I can help you get dressed now if you want?"

She still felt weak, but she would feel a lot less vulnerable with clothes on. "Yes, thank you."

Easing herself up into a sitting position, she held the blanket in place over her chest while Lily found a shift for her to put on. Soon Grace was dressed although the stays were a little too tight for her liking. She didn't want to complain, though; Lily had been more than generous to her already.

She had just put on a pair of shoes when the canvas flap over the tent entrance was pushed to one side, and Colonel Tavington entered, followed closely by Captain Bordon. Grace's dark eyes grew cold, hard. She remained where she was by the bed although she chose to stay on her feet, despite the unsteadiness of her legs.

"Good evening, Colonel," Lily said.

He merely gave her a curt nod and then turned his attention to Grace. However, she was not looking at him. She watched as Lily smiled at Bordon; it was loving, tender. Bordon did not return it, but there was an intensity in his blue eyes that had not been there a few moments before. It stuck Grace then: Lily was Bordon's wife. Grace clenched her jaw. Perhaps it had not been kindness that had motivated her to bring her clothes after all; it had simply been a ruse, to get her to reveal her identity. She had barely known Lily for more than twenty minutes, yet, for some strange reason, a sense of betrayal twisted inside of her.

"Well, Miss Cartwright..." Tavington said coolly

Grace's eyes widened slightly. How did he already know who she was?

A triumphant smirk spread across his lips. "Ah, so you are General Cartwright's daughter.

It was then Grace realised that she had been duped – again. This time, though, she had set the trap off, and she was well and truly snared.

Grace heard a soft gasp and looked over at Lily, who had a hand over her mouth. She then glared at Bordon. "Marcus, you didn't tell me –"

"Lily," Bordon cut her off tersely, almost warningly. "Leave. Now."

She quietened, but the angry glint in her eyes did not diminish. A moment later, she snatched up the cloth sack she had brought the clothes in and left the tent without another word. Grace watched Bordon, wondering what he would do. But he remained where he was, without as much as a backward glance. Suddenly, he reminded her of her father: aloof, unfeeling, cold.

"So, Miss Cartwright," Tavington said, moving closer to her, like a wolf stalking its prey. "Do you care to enlighten us as to why you were posing as a man?"

Grace met his gaze with indifference. "I demand you turn me over to my father."

He laughed mockingly. "You are in no position to demand anything. You are a traitor to the Crown, and you will be punished accordingly."

"My father is a personal friend of General Washington," Grace said, unfazed by his threat. She was not afraid of him. She had lived with a harsh man her whole life. "He will not tolerate this."

William rested a hand on the hilt of his sabre. "Then let General Washington come here himself and get you."

"When Lord Cornwallis hears about this –"

"You are a traitor, Miss Cartwright. You have killed His Majesty's men; Lord Cornwallis will think no differently on the matter. And I am sure he will not be only one who will be horrified by your rebellious actions." Tavington took another predatory step towards her. "However, if you assist me in hunting down Benjamin Martin and his men, then I will let you go, and no one but Bordon and I will ever know what you did."

Grace hated Tavington at that moment. She wanted to pull his sabre from its sheath and plunge it into his gut. He had placed her in an impossible position. Her father would be mortified if he ever learnt of what she had done; he would disown her. But how could she betray Benjamin?

...

William watched Grace Cartwright with a sense of satisfaction as she stood silently in front of him. Her features betrayed little of what she was thinking, but her mere silence was enough to let him know she was struggling to make a decision. Of course, he would inform Lord Cornwallis of her capture, although he would have to convince the general to let her remain in his custody. If he failed to do so, then his superiors would order her to be handed back to her father. Her deeds would not matter to him, only that she was the daughter of a rich, influential and distinguished man.

But Grace did not need to know that.

If she agreed to help him, then perhaps he could put an end to this Ghost once and for all. She would be able to give him the names of the men in the militia; it would not be too hard to find out where they lived; Bordon's spies would see to that. She might also know where the militia intended to strike next.

"Well..." he said, growing impatient. "What is your decision?"

Grace folded her arms and stared at him defiantly. "I am willing to take my chances with Lord Cornwallis."

William did his best to conceal his frustration. "Very well."

With that, he turned and walked from the tent. He clenched his hands into tight fists as he strode back through the camp.

Bordon fell into step beside him. "That could have gone better."

He shot the captain a withering glare. "Cornwallis will arrive here in two weeks. We have until then to convince Miss Cartwright to assist us."

"You think she will agree to help us?"

William set his jaw. "She will."

Every woman had a weakness, even Grace Cartwright; it was merely a matter of finding it and exploiting it.