A/N: This story has been kicking it on my computer for over ten years now. I figured I'd start going through and posting the completed stories, just so that I could make room for my newer works on the memory card since I use a computer that's almost 20 years old. I know, I know... it's ancient. BUT it runs my favorite word processing program so it's what I use. Besides, waste not, want not.

Anyway, I wrote this when my vernacular was still leaning more towards the late 1700s due to reading countless romance novels set in that time period. It's not perfect so no holding that against me, please. I just love this time period and wanted to share it with the world.

Hope you enjoy it.

Tiff

Prologue

Trenton, New Jersey

1785: 2 years after the War for Independence ended

The feeling of the rich loamy earth between her fingers, soothed her frazzled nerves. The slightly cool damp soil calmed the feelings of anger and frustration skittering along her lovely sun kissed skin. This wasn't the first time she had sought solace in this manner, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Stephanie knelt in a freshly turned vegetable bed in her family's garden, just behind the small hedge of raspberries and blackberries her mother used so often made into pies or cobblers.

She harrumphed. Her mother. The very reason why she was hiding and attempting to calm down. Again. Helen Plum. Just the thought of her made Steph's blood pressure begin to rise all over again. Soothing, cleansing breaths, she told herself. Don't let her get under your skin again, she murmured under her breath. A few minutes later, a long defeated sighed erupted from her pursed lips and she crawled out of the tilled earth against the trunk of the nearby apple tree.

Why on earth should she be made to marry someone she simply did not truly know, let alone love?

Tonight, at supper, she was appalled when her mother had invited a guest without Stephanie's knowledge, again. She did not like the butcher's apprentice, Bernard Kuntz. He gave her the Heeby Jeebys. It wasn't any one thing in particular, he just put her at such ill ease. The one time she had spoken to him, he nearly drowns her in drool and gave her such an off-putting, gap tooth leer. She was aghast at his blatant and uncouth behavior. It resulted in her overturning an entire pitcher of ale atop his head and running out of the cottage at full speed, ignoring the shouts to stop from Bernie and her mother. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. Away from that vile man and her overbearing mother and into the garden.

It wasn't as if blacksmith and wheelwright, Franklin Plum, had a say in marrying off Stephanie. It was all her mother's doing. She had been arranging for suiters to visit and attempt to catch Stephanie's eye, but no one had, at this point. Most were apprenticing a trade, the afore mentioned butcher, a cooper, a baker, a silversmith, a tailor, etc. It was beyond her as to why Helen Plum insisted on marrying her off. It did not matter if Stephanie wanted marriage or not. It was what Helen wanted for her; therefore, it would be done. Or else.

What made matters worse was that at supper in two days' time, Constable Morelli would be visiting and that was of great concern. Despite her every dissuasion, he had made any and every attempt at catching her eye. Even going so far as to falsely accuse her of stealing and attempting to bargain a marriage with him in exchange for her freedom. It failed to work when her father sought her out when she had failed to return from the market that day. Constable Morelli released her, laughing as if it had been a joke between the younger two. A type of flirting, he attempted to convince the elder Plum. Her father gave the constable an unconvinced look before he placed his hand at the small of her back and guided Stephanie out of the gaol toward the direction of their cottage. Stephanie would NOT be alone with that conniving man. She would do everything in her powers to avoid him. But she knew that after tonight's fiasco, her mother was sure to accept Constable Morelli's offer of marriage. She needed to do something. But what? She needed a plan.

Outside Trenton, New Jersey

The dust from a six hundred booted feet ascended into the air like the flowing voice from a songbird in Spring. It rose, catching the slight breeze and floated off into the distance. Thankfully, having an officer's rank afforded him little to no dust as he was positioned at the front of the rank and files atop his midnight black horse. At the apex of the knoll, he pulled his steed to a halt, assessing his troops. He, Captain Ricardo Carlos Manoso, had been specifically given the task from the Continental Army of erecting a new fort on the outskirts of Trenton and securing its inhabitants, as the old fort had fallen into severe disrepair. There had been numerous raids upon the township by brigands and those who still attempted to support English rule, even after the war of independence had been hard fought and won by the colonies. This was now his home, and it was his responsibility to protect those within it.

"Sir, it is only another few minutes to the new site for the fort. Shall I have a team ride ahead to ready your camp?" Captain Manoso's second in command was a mountain of a man, a Lieutenant Pierre Blinde. Tall as a tree, as fit as an ox and able to whip the men in his command into shape quicker than any other, Lt Blinde was an asset to his command, to be sure. At his nod, Lt Blinde spurred his massive draft horse and rode toward the rear of the formation to seek out men to carry out the order.

Another officer stopped short of the Captain's position, reigning in his horse at the last second, causing a small cloud of dust. It was his maternal cousin, Lieutenant Lester Santos. It was pure luck that they had been assigned together in the first place. They had both unknowingly enlisted in the Continental Army a week apart and in different locations. "Captain, the men are having a bit of trouble with the cannon wagons. Two of the wagons are down, half the wheels have broken apart."

Captain Manoso frowned, this was the third time in as many weeks that they had encountered logistic issues. "Offload the cannons and leave a guard with them. Send another wagon back for them as soon as it can be cleared. The fort site is just over the next hill." As the Captain turned to follow the formation steadily marching by, he threw over his shoulder, "And take the wheels to be fixed. No matter the cost, I'll be paying personally. We need them returned before dawn tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir." Lt Santos saluted and rode back towards the broken-down wagons. It did not escape the Lt's notice that his cousin had added that he would be eating the cost of the repairs. There wasn't much that the captain wouldn't do to ensure his men were well cared for and equipped properly. And for that, it earned him their trust and allegiance. They would follow him anywhere. And they had.

Chapter 1

The sound of men's voices lofted from the direction of her father's blacksmith shop; Stephanie did not recognize any of the voices other than her father's. At the words, "money is no object", her interest was piqued. She quietly slipped in through the back door of the shop, thankfully hidden by bins of coal used to heat the forge for the iron. Flattening herself as much as she could, she peeked through the crack between two bins, sighting a group of four soldiers speaking with her father.

Frank Plum was giving the four broken wheels a good assessment, "And when would you be needing these back?" He glanced at the shortest of the four men, though at over 6 feet tall, he was over an entire head higher than Frank.

"We require them as soon as possible." The look on the soldier's face showed no lies. "We are here to rebuild the fort since it had fallen into such disrepair and the wagons are an integral part in doing so." He straightened before adding, "Captain Manoso will pay, as I said earlier, money is no object." At that Frank nodded and indicated toward the back door to the shop.

"Please, relax in the garden, I'll have my wife bring out refreshments. I will repair these as soon as I can. It will take some time, but I shall fix them." Stephanie blanched at her father's words. She scurried out of her hiding spot as quickly as she could but not before a certain Lieutenant caught a fleeting glance of her retreat. He nodded to his men, and they exited the rear door finding a quiet space, save the whoosh of the bellows and the roar of a stoked coal fire. Surrounded by high wicker fences covered in berry bushes, a large kitchen garden sprawled across a large portion of the yard with a small area with a table and benches in the shade of different apple trees laden with fruit.

After wandering about a bit, exploring the bountiful garden, they had no more sat in the shade and removed their hats then they rushed to their feet, as two ladies stepped out of the rear door of the cottage carrying a tray of flagons, a pitcher of what Lt Santos guessed was ale and a tray of plates laden with what he spied were pie slices. A slow smile crossed his face before he rushed forward to aid the women with their burden. "Madam." He gave the older woman his charming smile, but it appeared to have little effect. She quickly set the tray of flagons and the pitcher onto the table before he could assist, she then turned to the very lovely younger woman who was but a half step behind.

"Stephanie. Don't dawdle." She sniped at her daughter before giving the collection of men a disapproving look.

"Sorry Mother." She murmured, carefully sliding the tray of pie slices onto the table. She turned her fair face to the Lt and smiled sweetly. "Lieutenant, my mother's best apple pie and ale. I do hope you enjoy." She curtsied and retreated back to the house her curly hair bouncing as she stepped, with her sourpuss faced mother right behind.

"She's a sweet one." Hal murmured as he set out the pie and forks. "But that mother.." He cringed in disgust.

"Looks like she tasting vinegar," Cal agreed as he poured the ale.

"Ah don no," the fourth man stated with flakes of pie crust flying out of his mouth as he spoke, "shez pwably jus twyin ta keeb hur sabe." The other three gave him disapproving looks before he swallowed and wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve. "I said, she is probably just trying to keep her safe." He indicated towards the twins Hal and Cal, "We are a scary bunch to a lady." Both Hal and Cal gave each other that look spoke of a lifetime of communication without spoken words. They both reached out and slapped Bones in the back of his head.

"Enough." Lt Santos barked, "Eat your pie and be civil. And for God's sake, use your manners." He chided Bones as said man shoveled the last of his pie into his mouth.

"What?" He asked, "I haven't had pie like this since we were in New York a couple a years ago." He drained the last of his ale and gave a small burp behind his hand. " 'scuse me." Lt Santos just shook his head before he carefully forked a piece of the flaky pie into his watering mouth. Hmmm... almost as good as his mother's apple pie. Almost.

Stephanie watched the men through the crack of the door as she waited to retrieve the trays of plates. "Stop staring at those ruffians." Helen chided, shoving a drying towel and a freshly scrubbed pot into her hands. "They're horrid men and I cannot wait until they are gone." She huffed, giving the small cooking cauldron an extra vigorous scrubbing.

"Mother, they have done nothing wrong. They are just trying to fulfill their orders." Stephanie attempted to reason with her mother as she methodically wiped the cookware dry. "As soon as Father has repaired their wheels they will be gone and won't bother us again."

"Well, see that you avoid them in town. If I hear from any of the ladies that you have associated yourself with those... those... rapscallions, I will lock you into the loft for the rest of your life. I will not be fodder for gossip." Helen threatened.

It did not go unnoticed by Stephanie that her mother had attempted to secretly tipple from the bottle of cherry cordial she had stashed behind the jars of dried herbs on an upper shelf above the wash basin. It also had not gone unnoticed by Stephanie that Helen seemed to secretly tipple a lot lately. She had already polished off the four bottles of blueberry cordial and two of the peach in the last few months. It saddened her to know that her father chose to ignore the fact Helen was a drunkard. Most nights after supper, the three sat around the fire enjoying the evening before bed. And most nights Helen replaced her "tea" with something a bit stronger causing her to nod off well before bedtime.

Stephanie hung the last of the pots above the hearth and realized the ale flagons and the plates were left to be collected and washed. "Mother, would you like to collect the men's dishes, or shall I?" Helen gave a sour face at her question before waving Stephanie off toward the rear door. Nodding, she wiped her hands off on her apron and headed out the door.

The loud and rhythmic hammering of her father's hammer on the anvil rang throughout the air. She smiled at the men scrambling to their feet. "I hope you enjoyed the pie and ale, Gentlemen." She stated, "I'm hard pressed to find a better apple pie in all of Trenton."

"It was divine, Miss." One of the twins stated, hat in hand, shoulders slightly slumped, a sheepish smile on his face. "Please thank your mother for her hospitality." Stephanie nodded and deftly swooped up the neat stack of plates, noticing there was nary a crumb left. "Shall I bring you more ale?" She snagged the empty pitcher of ale before they could answer.

"We would be most appreciative, Mistress Plum." He said, as a wide smile nearly cleaved his handsome face in two. "Forgive me, I did not introduce myself. Lieutenant Lester Santos and these men are Sergeants Hallum and Callum Grover and Sargeant Lucas Bones."

Stephanie curtsied and graced them a warm smile, "Stephanie Plum." She turned and spoke over her shoulder, "I will bring another pitcher of ale, it will be but a moment." She rushed inside, slid the plates onto the kitchen worktable and refilled the ale from the small keg set in the pantry recess of the wall. Helen was nowhere to be found which afforded her a small bit of leeway in conversing with Lt Santos and his men. She hurried out to refill their flagons. Stephanie refilled the flagons but noticed the curtains in the loft moved ever so slightly, betraying the whereabouts of her mother. She knew she must hurry back into the cottage before she caught holy hell from her mother for conversing with the rapscallions. In a panic she nearly spilled the ale as it sloshed out of the pitcher. "Pardon me." She ducked her head and rushed back through the door, leaving a slight trail of dust where the hem of her skirt brushed the ground.

"Did ya notice the curtain move before Mistress Plum hurried into the cottage?" Santos asked, purposely not looking up toward the window.

"Aye, we did," both Hal and Cal agreed, "That mother's a real..." Santos cut Cal off, "Shut yer gob." Cal's mouth snapped shut at the reprimand and they quietly contemplated the lovely Mistress Plum as they finished their ale.

Just after dark, Frank Plum's hammer fell silent. And it remained silent, signaling the wheels were finally repaired and the soldiers could return to camp. Santos was surprised at how quickly the man had finished, given that the four wheels were each cracked and broken in several places. Frank trudged out to the men, beads of sweat rolled down his face as he pulled wads of waxen cloth out of his ears. "Yer wheels are finished. It was much easier to replace the iron bands around the wheel than it was to repair the broken bits. It won't be much less than repairs but it is still less coin." He gave the men a brilliant white smile through the coal dust and grime caked upon his face.

"I thank you, Sir. It has been quite pleasant waiting, please thank your wife for being..." He paused a moment trying to find the correct description, "most gracious," he grinned while patting his stomach. "But especially so because of your her delicious apple pie." Frank gave a small snort in return, reading between the lines. He of all people, knew how his wife behaved around those she did not like.

"Thank you, gentlemen." Frank stated after they counted out the money into his cracked and calloused hands. "If you need anything more repaired, you know where to find me. Good night." Frank watched as Lt Santos mounted his horse while the others loaded into the wagon with the wheels before they made their way out of town. Frank tried not to sigh when he thought about what the Lt had said about his wife. Well, it was more of how it was said than what was spoken. He was tired of Helen's stuffy attitude and her apparent dislike of anyone not of the upper echelons. Maybe he would talk to her about it. Maybe.

Helen watched as her husband bid the soldiers goodbye. It irked her that he would be so friendly with those... those... traitorous heathens. They were but common soldiers, nothing better than guttersnipes. What would the other ladies in the sewing circle think if they saw people such as them leaving her husband's shop? She'd be gossiped about and shunned for sure. She would need to speak to Frank about working for such riffraff. Those that defied King George were traitors! And she would not have those type of people in her home. It was not acceptable.

Trying to avoid slicing her fingers, Stephanie was carefully cutting carrots and potatoes for supper the next afternoon when her mother came rushing in through the garden door carrying a small bushel of apples and a few eggs the chickens had lain that afternoon. "Stephanie, I want you to fetch me two more pails of water from the well. I need one to cook with and you will need one to freshen up with before our guest arrives tonight." Helen gave Stephanie a critical look, "And be sure to wear your yellow dress, it is clean and waiting for you on your bed."

"Mother!" Steph hissed, "I will not dress up for Constable Morelli. He is a horrible, horrible man. Have you forgotten how he trapped me in the gaol and refused to release me? How Father saved me?" She dropped the knife onto the cutting board after she scored her finger. She stuck the slightly bloody appendage into her mouth as her mother responded.

"That man is your last chance at finding a suitable husband. If I were you, I would be doing everything in my power to ensure he proposed." Helen slammed the basket down onto the kitchen worktable, making everything on it jump, scattering vegetable bits everywhere. "Now look what you have made me do! Go fetch me that water before I do something you will regret."

Stephanie rushed out of the kitchen after grabbing the water buckets, tears streaming down her face. What was she going to do? She could not and would not marry that horrible man. Morelli was nothing what she wanted in a husband.

She wanted kind. He was cruel. She wanted handsome. He had a permanent sneer on his face. She wanted someone who would talk to her and listen to her hopes and dreams. Morelli was domineering and over-talked her every time they spoke.

No. Morelli was not the man for her, despite what her mother may have to say on the subject.

She needed to find a way to put off Morelli or remove herself from the situation. Knowing him as she did, there was nothing she could think of to dissuade Morelli from seeking her hand in matrimony. The only sensible answer was to run away. It broke her heart to think she would abandon her father, but Stephanie refused to allow herself to be thrown into a situation where she would be miserable and possibly abused, for the rest of her life. She needed a plan. And fast.

As she approached the communal well a few cottages down from her home, she spied the four soldiers from the day previous. She slowed to a stop, peeking around the side of a wagon, watching the men speak to one another as they watered themselves.

"I don't know, Sir. I think we should stop by the baker and the mercantile shops before we return to the fort."

"Do you think they might have some of those tiny buttery cakes left?" One of the twin Sergeants mentioned, youthful hope shining in his face.

"You go on. I'll stay behind and wait by our mounts. Be quick about it, lest Captain Manoso catches wind of our detour." Lt. Santos stated, dusting off his hands on his breeches, eyes squinting at the waning afternoon sunlight. The three other men hurried off toward the shops on the other end of town. The Lt. casually leaned against the hitching post, picking at his nails, head down, a few loose tendrils of his caramel hued tresses hung over his eyes.

Clearing her throat, Stephanie stepped out from behind the wagon, careful to not allow the mud around the well to sully the hem of her dress. "Good day, Lieutenant. Are you faring well today?" As nonchalant as she could manage, she reached for the bucket winch.

Snapping to attention, Lt. Santos beat her to the winch, carefully lowering it, allowing it to slowly fill. "Please, allow me, Mistress Plum." He appraised her through his bangs as they stood in the brief moment of silence.

"Thank you." She stood watching him as his muscles shifted under his uniform as he worked to fill the buckets for her. "Are you expecting to stay at the fort for a short spell?"

"Not likely. It would appear that we will be here for the foreseeable future. Likely for years." The Lt. set the second of her two buckets next to her skirts, nearly full. He frowned noticing she would have to carry both heavy water buckets herself and could not allow her to do that in all good conscious.

"Please, allow me to assist you in carrying your water back to your home, Mistress." His gentle charm was soothing to her frazzled nerves, allowing her to calm if only for a few minutes.

"Thank you, it is quite difficult to carry both buckets at one time." Her genuine smile caused one in return.

"What brings you out this fine afternoon?" The lt. inquired, his eyes focused on the rutted road, lest he fumble and drop a bucket.

"I am helping mother with preparing supper for a guest tonight." Unable to stop herself, her smile turned upside down into a frown, brows drawn tight.

"Not a task you're fond of then?"

"Not exactly. It's the guest I'm not fond of." Biting her lip at the unwanted admittance of her true feelings, she backtracked quickly, "Though, according to mother, supping with Constable Morelli only ensures our place in polite society."

"Constable, huh? I take it you're not in agreement with your mother."

"No. I suppose not." Stephanie felt comfortable and not encumbered by the socially acceptable parameters her mother spouted day after day, trying to, in her own words, mold Stephanie into a polite young lady of societal standing.

"Is he a letch, a cur? Has he taken unwanted liberties with you? Is it necessary to step in and defend your honor?" He had stopped in his tracks, his whole demeanor changes to one of where she wasn't sure of what he was feeling at the moment as his face had gone completely blank of all emotions.

"Though he's attempted to corner me on several occasions, my father rescued me the only time he had managed to separate me from public view in the gaol. Father made him release me." The Lt.'s eyebrows drew together in a frown showing his displeasure. "Mother says Constable Morelli is my last chance before spinsterhood takes me by the hand, leading me into a life of utter loneliness and despair. I've turned down every other suitor she has paraded in front of me, thus far. She says I'll be lucky to find any man to take me off her hands, drunkards and beggars alike."

"I assure you, any red-blooded man would be thanking God above to make you, his wife. With your beauty, it shouldn't be too difficult to achieve that, I would think." He flashed her one of his well-practiced charming smiles.

"I refuse to marry the constable. He's not a man I would ever be comfortable sharing the remainder of my life with. I fear I may not have a choice after tonight. I have a suspicion that she will accept a marriage proposal for my hand in my stead."
"What of your father?"

"Father? He'll sit back and allow my mother to ride roughshod over my wants and needs as her usual custom. Though I know he loves me, he has always allowed my mother to care for my sister and I as she saw fit."

"What are you going to do? Accept the proposal? I would hope not."

"I'm not quite sure," she admitted, kicking a rock with her foot. "I know I don't want to marry that... man. I had thought about running away, seeing if I could make my fortune elsewhere. I've some money put away from selling some lace and knitted items over the past few winters. It might last me enough until I can find employment someplace where I wouldn't be forced into a loveless marriage."

They had wandered along the road on the outskirts of the township, finding a shaded place to sit, enjoying the warmth of the day. Leaning back onto one of his elbows, ankles crossed, he absentmindedly tore a piece of grass apart in his fingers as he thought. Though she knew her mother would be waiting for her, Stephanie, couldn't seem to find a hint of care. She wanted to enjoy the last few days of freedom if her mother was allowed to continue her normal way of dictating the direction of Stephanie's life.

'What if I could find you a position within the fort?" She tilted her head in his direction, curious of what he had to offer. "We have need for women to fill household and laundry positions within the fort itself. Perhaps you might be interested in a maid position for the Officer's Quarters or even the housekeeper position for the captain?"

"Truly? Entrusting me with such positions?" She was flabbergasted at the offers.

"I've met your mother. I seriously doubt she would allow substandard cleanliness her your home. Am I remiss in thinking that she would allow you to not adhere to her rigid standards of cleanliness?"

"Never! She was very strict in her teachings about keeping a clean and tidy home." She sniffed in an offended manner before relaxing. "I can keep a well-tended house, Lt. I can cook, bake, sew, knit, tat lace and I can keep a well producing garden. I am a well-rounded lady, Sir."

"Are you interested? The housekeeper position comes with a small cottage within the fort itself. The wages are far higher than one would find elsewhere as the Army pays the captain to employ someone to tend to his home. And you wouldn't need to marry the Constable as you would be out of your mother's home, and out of her daily influence." The latter portion regarding having her own home, was tempting, though not as tempting as the bit about not having to marry Constable Morelli.

"I would need to start as soon as possible if that is alright with you?" She was anxious to escape her mother's house and her unwanted influence over her life.

"We need to speak with the captain immediately then." He stood, holding his hand out to assist her to her dainty little feet. "If you want the position, we best be off."

They dropped the buckets off at the rear door of her mother's home and quickly evaded discovery by either of her parents before making their way onto the road headed to the fort.