Connor sat at the table across from Carolyn a look of amused horror on his face. "Do you remember when you used to only be able to keep down oatmeal and bread?"
She glared at him lightly over her plate. "I'm not asking you to eat it. You have your own dinner." She nodded to his plate. "Besides it's precisely what I want right now." Her own plate held a mass of pickled cabbage and melted cheese which she carefully piled onto a slice of bread. She bit into it sighing contentedly. He eyed the massive block sitting on the counter. "They certainly brought plenty!" Carolyn laughed. "I can't eat much at a time but I'm always starving. Mr. Clark said his wife was the same way and besides we're due a bad storm soon and he might not be able get up here for a few days. A few extra supplies did not seem unreasonable."
She stopped then frowning and pressing a hand to her side. Through the fabric of the dress Connor could spot the movement. "Foot or hand?" "Foot" she grimaced. Connor grinned at her and took a bite of his dinner "Perhaps he does not like cabbage." She rubbed her side and addressed her belly "Too bad. Mommy's hungry." then sighed. "I can't believe it's only January. I don't know if I'll make it 2 more months." Connor eyed her. She was already the size Prudence had been when Hunter had been born. "Diana assures me there's only one of them. She checks for extra heartbeats every time." Carolyn pressed one hand at one side where the foot had been and another opposite it on the other side of her belly. "As far as she can tell it's just one big baby. That's your fault you know. Everyone says so. The larger the father, larger the child." She sighed and smiled at him. "I suppose I should have thought of that earlier." She reached across the table and took his hand briefly running her thumb across his knuckles.
Suddenly a sharp knock came from the door. Connor stood waiving for her to sit and finish her bread. He didn't recognize the man at the door, obviously a courier who handed him a package and note. He opened the package briefly and studied the painting and then turned to the note. "New target. Come quickly to the tavern in Boston lest he escape like the rest." Thinking on Carolyn in the kitchen he tucked the painting into the drawer of the desk in the den.
He turned to head back but saw her standing in the doorway "What is it, Connor?" a worried look evident on her face. "It's nothing. I just need to run an errand to Boston. Do you need anything while I'm there?" She frowned at that. "At some point I'll need some more paints but surely you don't need to go now. What about the storm?" He smiled at her reassuringly. "I'll be back before it gets here. You'll see."
He headed out to the stable and saddled his horse riding for Boston. He stopped briefly by the supply house and picked up the items for Carolyn storing them in his saddle bags before heading to the tavern. He was met there by the usual crew who explained to him the situation. "Jacob Miller is a warehouse manager who supplies military items to the redcoats. He has been away lately but is due to be at the warehouse tonight for inventory. You will need to get to this office and stop him." They pulled out a map of the warehouse layout. "I'm sorry we could not give you more information or time. We can only assume that out messages to you are being intercepted. I do not think the miraculous escape of so many targets can be a coincidence." The last several targets had cleared out and vanished before he reached them.
They took him to the warehouse and waited in the courtyard nearby as he climbed over the wall with ease. Dispatching two of the guards he made it to the building and scaled the outside with the silence born of years of training. Carefully he climbed through an open window taking to the roof beams and spotted his target inspecting crates of merchandise. Freeing his dagger he ran along the beams calculating the angle needed to become death from above. The commotion began before he was half way across the warehouse. A young man ran in and whispered in the target's ear, his eyes going wide. Scanning the room quickly they ran out and Connor heard them raising the alarm. Swearing he ran for a window still hoping to catch up to them but it became clear they would not be caught. In the seconds it took for his eyes to adjust to the darkness the man was mounted and riding out of the courtyard.
He ran across the rooftop and dove into a nearby pile of hay. Samuel Adams already had his horse ready. "We ride for the house." Mounting he followed them as they rode down the mostly disserted streets of Boston." Reaching their target Samuel swore. The door was open and the house clearly empty of people, neighbors looking around curiously. "They've fled. No use trying to track them. No doubt they'll vanish as cleanly as the others." He shook his head "At least he's out of business but this is the 4th target gone." He eyed Connor warily. "I suppose there's no way around it. We've clearly got a spy in the Sons of Liberty."
Connor frowned at that but checked the sky and noted the sharpness of the wind. "He must be found but for now I need to get back. There is a storm coming in." He nodded his goodbyes and turned his horse back home, his teeth set on edge in frustration.
The house was dark when he made it back, the first heavy flakes starting to whip and howl as he made sure the horses were secure in the stable. She had built up the fire in their room and laid curled up under the heavy quilt but shivered visibly. Even though he had just come in from outside her skin was like ice next to his as she curled up around his heat gratefully. "I'm glad you made it back. I was starting to get worried." She drew his arm around her shoulder and curled up tightly against his side. He took her hands between his own and held them, feeling the warmth return to her fingers. "I should not have gone. It was a waste of time anyway. Though I did get your paints."
She yawned, the heat making her sleepy. "No harm in that. By the sound of it the snow I may finally get you to hold still long enough to paint you for a change." Once her hands were warm he let them go, his hand straying to its usual position, wrapped around her and resting lightly on her belly. A flurry of activity erupted under his palm as if aware of his presence. At times he would wake at night and press a hand to her stomach marveling at the movements inside so independent of her while she slept. Her lips curled and her fingers covered his. "Looks like I'm not the only one excited you're back." She yawned and curled back against him. "We should really start thinking about names soon." But shortly she was asleep.
"Package for Mr. Kenway!" The young man at the door handed her a stack of letters and a small package and she scanned the rapidly darkening sky. "I'm afraid it's not a very large town but there is a tavern down the way. You should probably ride out the storm there". Carolyn dropped let the penny fall back into her purse and pulled out a larger coin. Many courier companies did not cover frivolities such as shelter when it was deemed that they could stay in the coach at night but the spring storm on the horizon promised to be a strong one and she would not want to face it without four good walls around her. "Have a drink on us until this storm passes over."
The courier, noting the coin, smiled and dipped his hat to her and her straining stomach. "I'll drink to you and your lordship's impending happiness!" Carolyn laughed, "Aye and not a moment too soon if I have any say". Turning back into the house she scanned the missives and drew a breath. Two letters to her were tucked in against a plain brown package bearing Connor's name. "Ah. Not now. I've no energy for this," she muttered as struck a cheerfully neutral tone. "Package for you, Connor. I hope they're not looking for you to travel on business." Carolyn sighed and rubbed her aching back, placing the letters aside on her desk and leaving the package on the table in the hallway.
"God, I don't know how many trips up these stairs I have left in me." Carolyn yawned and carefully balanced the last load of clothes just brought in and folded on her hip. The unusual burst of energy she had gotten this afternoon had allowed her to get much of what she needed done but she could tell it was starting to wane being replaced with a general tiredness and aching that did not seem to go away no matter how she rested. The time had been well spent though. The kitchen was well stocked with bread and a pot of soup that would cover their meals for the first few days and Connor had only laughed and meekly complied when she harried him around to get the nursery fully arranged. At this point she could see no reason not to lay everything out. Diana had come by just that morning but had nothing more solid than an encouraging 'Soon' to say about her progress.
Placing the other clothes away, she laid out the swaddling and diapers on the table in their room. She smoothed over the embroidery while pondering the package downstairs but she was in no mood to deal with it tonight. Pushing the thought away she eyed the bed wearily. The last few nights and proven that there was little rest to be had near to bursting as she was unless the baby allowed it. Instead tonight she eyed the rocking chair in the corner of the room, its hard back would at least mean that she might wake with the child in a similar position as now, hanging low in her belly. She pulled the thicker quilt from the bed knowing Connor, ever impervious to the cold would not begrudge it of her and headed to the chair. She briefly considered changing out of her day gown but the warming spring air had taken on a decided chill when the storm came in and the sudden opening of the sky outside suggested that the night would only get colder. Tucking the blanket around her she eased carefully down into the seat and closed her eyes as the storm began to howl in earnest.
Connor cocked a head as he heard the courier head out with a smile. Something about a woman quite so far with child seemed to bring out joy in everyone around her. He liked to think it was a general hope for the future though the women of the town tried to disillusion him by telling him it was just people being grateful that they were not about to be so blessed. He listed to her slow climb up the stair and went to retrieve his package. It held the distinctive handwriting of Samuel Adams and clearly contained the portrait of his next target. "Well, there no reason not to at least to take a look." He hoped work might serve to distract him from just how little he had to do in the coming event. A quick glance at the portrait revealed it to be an older one for it contained an image of his father standing behind a young woman. Quickly he flipped the painting face down. He had thought of this father too much these past few months and did not want to dwell on him now. Instead he turned to the letter inside.
That troublesome organization of your father's seems to have found a new leader in a surprising spot. It seems his final pupil was a woman who has recently ascended to the position of Grand Master. We suspect her to run a network of spies and to be the reason your last few targets have escaped. Previously we had thought her dead as she was reported to have booked passage upon the Sovereignty's final voyage, however she was reportedly spotted in Boston visiting the Miller household shortly before your unproductive visit to his storeroom. We know we have not asked you for a woman in the past but you must not think of her as such. We suspect she may have a personal vendetta against you. The whole thing is rather sordid. Not only was she reported to be your father's lover Carolyn Blair was engaged to marry Charles Lee at the time of his death…
Numbly the paper slipped through Connors fingers the rest unread as his mind began to race. "It's not possible", grabbing the portrait he closely studied the young woman seated before his father, his hand casually and intimately resting on her shoulder and saw the smiling face of his wife.