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  "Orphans?" Leland repeated. "How convenient."

  "What an awful thing to say," Dominique challenged, her tone instantly turning harsh. "We loved our parents dearly, and do not pass a single day without praying for the repose of their souls. It was our beloved mother who taught us all we know about healing, and she would want us to share our knowledge with all who are in need."

  The sergeant leaned over and whispered just a shade too loudly, "They might just as easily be whores, sir, but there's a need for them, too."

  Neither Belle nor Dominique had ever imagined they might have to defend their honor to a British officer, but

  they recoiled with disgust when they realized they would have to. Til not dignify such wretched speculation with a response, but if you'll provide directions to the nearest field hospital, we'll be on our way," Belle announced. She locked arms with Dominique and hoped these soldiers had more important things to do than question them. She could feel Dominique shaking, and stood as proudly as she could on trembling legs.

  The pair spoke with the cultured language of fine ladies even if they did not look the part, and that discrepancy disturbed Leland Beck so badly he doubted anything they had told him was true. He stared at them long and hard, then gave the sergeant a terse order. "Search their things."

  Belle's first thought was of the map and she grew faint with fear. If they were accused of being spies, they would have no way to defend themselves, but then she realized any traveler could rightfully claim need of a map. Hers was merely a sketch, not a detailed drawing which would be of help to the military, and she had not added the notations of battles her father had made on the original. Still, she had no way of knowing what a surly British officer might imagine and couldn't stop her heart from racing.

  Forgetting the map, Dominique breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving that she had not kept a diary, for surely she would have made clear their desire to aid the Patriots rather than the British. "We've little other than a change of undergarments and our herbs," she volunteered, "and I daresay you've seen both long before this."

  The lieutenant had to admire the girls' spirit, but he was not satisfied as to their intentions until the sergeant brought him a handful of what looked to him like dried daisies. "And pray tell, ladies, what might these be?"

  "That's chamomile, sir," Belle responded quickly, still praying the sergeant would not uncover her map. "It makes a fine poultice to aid healing, and you must know that it also makes a soothing tea for all digestive complaints."

  Sorry he had not caught them in a lie, the lieutenant nodded wearily. "Yes, of course. My mother was fond of giving me chamomile tea for stomachaches."

  "She sounds like a wise woman," Dominique complimented with another pretty smile, but she hoped to herself that her son was as well. She had known a great many British officers before the war, and unlike this belligerent fool, they had been gentlemen who had treated her well. She could feel Belle's distress as acutely as her own, and wished they had anticipated and rehearsed how to deal with such a dangerous encounter. Hoping to seem unconcerned, she tossed a couple of berries into her mouth and watched the sergeant's blush deepen several shades.

  "Shall I search the rest of their gear, sir?" the sergeant asked. "I don't know one herb from another myself."

  "Don't you dare make a mess of our things," Belle scolded. "Herbs must be treated tenderly, or they'll lose their power to heal."

  The sergeant shrugged helplessly. "What do you say, sir? I'd not want to destroy their precious herbs when the men wounded at Camden are in such great need of medicines."

  "Are there wounded nearby?" Belle asked, not really believing how terribly their plan had gone awry but after insisting they had set out from Virginia on an errand of mercy, she could scarcely ignore the mention of wounded although she had no intention of actually tending British regulars. "Please don't waste another minute of our time if there are. Just give us directions so that we might find them as quickly as possible."

  Lieutenant Beck leaned forward in his saddle. "They're a two-day ride from here and because you might meet units of General Gates's militia still fleeing the battle, we'll provide you with an escort."

  Dominique was no more eager than Belle to ride into a British camp, and sought the most obvious way to avoid it.

  "How very kind of you, but aren't you and your men needed elsewhere to fight?" she asked.

  Amused by her question, the lieutenant finally flashed a predatory grin. "Not after the beating we gave the militia in Camden. It will be weeks before Gates can gather enough men to challenge us again. Of course, first he'll have to stop running himself."

  That sarcastic comment was met with more whoops from the soldiers, but neither Dominique nor Belle allowed her expression to betray her dismay. The battle must have taken place after they had left home or they would have heard news of it, but knowing the lieutenant would exaggerate any British victory, they doubted the accuracy of his report. They waited, feigning an outward calm while each prayed that the soldiers would choke on their gross laughter.

  Lieutenant Beck nodded toward the sisters' mounts. "Ride toward the front of the line with me, ladies. That will spare you another layer of dust."

  "How thoughtful of you," Dominique replied, but she was appalled by the insult. She took the chamomile from the sergeant, but as she did so she slid her blue-tinged fingertips across his wrist in a saucy caress. He turned bright red all the way to the roots of his hair, convincing her he would be as easy to manipulate as the boys at home.

  She added the stalks of chamomile to the basket of huckleberries and carried it over to the horses. She waited for Belle to mount Ladybug, and then handed her the basket to hold while she pulled herself up into Baby Dee's saddle. "Don't say a word," she ordered in a hoarse whisper. "We'll go with them now, and escape just as quickly as we can."

  Belle had no argument with that plan, and smiled sweetly as she handed the basket back to Dominique. She then took up a position beside the loathsome lieutenant for what she feared would be an uncomfortably long ride to a place she had absolutely no desire to go.

  They camped that night at the banks of the Great Pee Dee River. Disgusted with the lieutenant's abusive descriptions, the sisters approached him right after supper. "If we could borrow a couple of clean shirts to wear," Dominique proposed, "we'll launder our garments in the river and hang them up to dry tonight. After we bathe and don clean clothes tomorrow morning, I do believe you'll change your opinion of us."

  Unwilling to lend his own clothing to women he did not trust to be anything more than enterprising strumpets, Leland Beck ordered his sergeant to locate the necessary spare clothing. Badly embarrassed that the young women had overheard his remark about their possible profession, the sergeant immediately unpacked a worn but clean shirt of his own, and passed among the other men with an urgent plea for another. Rather than the lack of interest the lieutenant had shown, the soldiers argued over which of them would be allowed the honor of lending one until the sergeant was forced to make the choice to avoid fisticuffs.

  When the sergeant brought her the shirts, Dominique rewarded him with another delighted smile. He was perhaps twenty-five, with sandy hair and close-set eyes of a pale, clear blue. His ears stuck out from his head at an unfortunate angle, but despite his earlier remark he had become so eager to be of service she could not help but be touched. "Thank you for your kindness, sergeant. May I ask your name?"

  Flattered beyond all reasonable expectation, the sergeant stumbled over the pronunciation. "It's Thomas, Thomas Danby, miss." He whipped off* his hat and bowed from the waist.

  Dominique clutched the clean shirts to her breast. "We've not introduced ourselves, have we?" She glanced at her sister and after briefly considering giving aliases, decided their

  own names would do with the addition of their Loyalist neighbor's surname. Because Ian Scott had taken his family to England, she knew he could not dispute her claim.

  "I'm Dominique Scott, an
d this is my sister, Belle. We're very pleased to meet you, Sergeant Danby."

  Belle took Dominique's elbow to lead her away. "Scott?" she whispered anxiously. "What an imaginative choice."

  Dominique turned back to wave at the sergeant. "It's as good as any Tory name. Now let's just hope we've enough soap left to wash everything clean."

  Belle knew Dominique was doing what she felt she must to keep them safe, but she wished she had not gone about it in her usual flirtatious manner. "Why don't you ask your dear friend, Sergeant Danby, if he doesn't have some we can use?"

  Dominique caught the faintly disapproving edge to her sister's question but felt no need to defend herself. "I will if we need more than we have."

  They moved upriver to take advantage of a thick clump of foliage, which made an effective screen, and hastily removed their gowns. Belle peered around the bushes to make certain they hadn't been followed before she removed her petticoats. Next she untied the drawstring at the neckline of her chemise and let it fall. She quickly donned the borrowed shirt, then slipped off her stockings and drawers.

  "I could have lived my whole life without having to spend the night camped with British troops," she mumbled under her breath.

  "Do you honestly believe that I'm looking forward to it?" Dominique asked. "I keep telling myself that we can't turn away from wounded men, but with any luck, we'll be able to escape before we have to." She stripped as hurriedly as Belle, and wearing only the sergeant's shirt with the sleeves rolled above her elbows, knelt down at the water's edge and began scrubbing her gown. The blue stripes had

  faded to the shade of robin's eggs and would soon disappear altogether.

  The ruffled hems of her petticoats were badly tattered but she rubbed soap into them just as furiously. She did take more time with her lace trimmed cap, chemise, and drawers, and took care to rinse them thoroughly. She spread her clean garments out over the shrubbery to dry, but thinking her soiled stockings weren't worth the effort to wash, left them knotted in a ball at the shore.

  "Will you watch while I bathe?" she asked Belle. "Then I'll stand guard for you."

  "Just a minute. Let me finish my clothes." Belle's back was beginning to ache from bending over and she had to sit up a moment. "I don't even think I can sleep tonight," she confided softly. "Should we try to run away? After all, once we reach a field hospital, it might be even more difficult than it will be to escape from here."

  "They've tethered Ladybug and Baby Dee with their horses," Dominique reminded her. "Surely they'll post a guard. After all, if there are militia in the area, they wouldn't want to risk being shot while they slept."

  "I doubt the militia would shoot a sleeping man."

  "Belle! That's not really the issue." Tired of waiting for her sister to complete her washing, Dominique bent down to get a glimpse of the camp through the leaves. The soldiers were still seated around the campfire, and laughing amongst themselves rather than looking their way. She moved upstream and cast off the shirt. She had already begun soaping her hair when she remembered a towel. The night was warm, and her curls would soon dry on their own so she decided against asking Belle to fetch one, but made a mental note not to forget one again.

  In the course of their journey they had learned how to bathe with efficiency and haste, but she would never learn to love cold water and quickly returned to the river bank. She shook like a wet puppy, squeezed as much moisture as

  she could from her hair, and then again donned the sergeant's shirt. "If there's no way to avoid reaching the field hospital, we can always say we need to gather more herbs. Then we just won't return."

  "Yes, that's a good plan." Finished with her laundry, Belle spread it out next to Dominique's, then laid the shirt on a dry rock. She also washed her hair first, then scrubbed herself clean with a brisk rhythm. She turned toward the shore as she left the river and caught a glimpse of the lieutenant standing not twenty feet away. He was shaded by the pines, but she saw him clearly before he darted out of sight.

  She grabbed her shirt, jammed her arms into the sleeves, and buttoned it as she crossed the distance between them. She was too angry to think, but when she reached the tree where she knew she had seen him, he had already fled. "Bastard," she mouthed under her breath. She returned to Dominique's side.

  "The lieutenant was watching us," she reported. "We were so worried about his men following us, but he was the only one who did."

  Dominique searched the surrounding trees without sighting anyone. "You don't mean it!"

  "I most certainly do. I saw him as I came out of the river, but he ran off before I could confront him. We're sure to defeat the British if their officers have no more honor than that."

  Dominique clapped her hand over her sister's mouth. "We're on the same side," she scolded. "You mustn't forget that for a second. We're sweet little Tory girls who want nothing more than to see America again ruled by the king!" Certain she had made her point, she dropped her hands. "This may even work to our advantage. I know we've lost weight, but I doubt he's seen any women as pretty as we are for a good long time."

  "Wonderful," Belle exclaimed. "Do you want to be his whore?"

  Dominique straightened up proudly and managed to look surprisingly genteel for a young woman clad in a borrowed shirt. "No. I do not and it will not come to that, either. Now let's get what sleep we can and keep our wits about us tomorrow. Maybe the militia hasn't fled at all. If they attack this patrol tomorrow, we'll be rescued right away."

  "If we aren't shot dead in the initial exchange of gunfire," Belle warned darkly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just so tired and frightened I don't know how much more of this I can stand."

  Dominique stared at her baby sister. "Think how much Falcon has stood, and it won't seem bad at all."

  Thoroughly shamed, Belle followed Dominique to the spot where they had left their belongings. They were well apart from the soldiers, but she had seen a hunger in the lieutenant's eyes that marred her dreams. Spying on them as they bathed had been a thoroughly reprehensible act, and she had every intention of telling him so at her first opportunity.

  shoulder blades and followed Belle to where the lieutenant stood drinking his morning cup of tea. Freshly shaven and neatly attired, he looked the part of an officer even if they now knew he lacked the character necessary for such a responsibility.

  "We'd like to speak with you," Belle announced clearly.

  Leland Beck had not really expected much in the way of improvement from the sisters, but as he swung around to face them, he nearly dribbled hot tea down the front of his uniform. They were regarding him with hostile stares, but it did not detract from the loveliness of their features. Once relieved of the accumulated grime of the trail, they were obviously ladies, and exceptionally beautiful ones. He had noted only the bright blue of their eyes the previous day, but now saw the thickness of their long, dark lashes. Their hair was a sun-streaked blond, and the lush fullness of their lips held a subtle rose tint. Unable to trust his voice not to break, he inclined his head slightly to encourage Belle to speak her piece.

  "Alone," Belle insisted. She gestured toward a secluded spot several paces away from the soldiers, and when Leland nodded, she and Dominique led the way. When Belle turned to face him, she did not mince words.

  "The British officers of our acquaintance have all been honorable men," she began, "so it pained us greatly to discover that you are not."

  Reacting to the harshness of her tone, Leland discounted Belle's prettiness and raked her with an insolent glance. "Fve no idea what prompted your insult, but I'll advise you now not to repeat it."

  "Oh, but I will repeat it," Belle countered, "and loudly if you invade our privacy a second time. I do hope you enjoyed what you saw last night, but don't spy on us ever again or I'll tell your troops just how unprincipled you truly are."

  Leland stared down at the sisters, his disgust as plain as

  theirs. "Frankly, neither of you is worth a second look," he replied in a caustic whis
per. "Now have your breakfast and be ready to ride in ten minutes. We've a long way to travel today, and I'll make no allowances for the two of you."

  "And we shall make none for you, sir," Belle responded proudly. She walked away, and Dominique went with her, but Dominique could not resist sending a parting glance over her shoulder. The lieutenant was watching them with what she considered a malevolent stare, but believing that was an improvement over the leer Belle had described, she regarded the conversation a success.

  Hunter had picked up the girls' trail shortly before they had been overtaken by the British patrol. At first he had hoped the cluster of hoof prints obliterating their mares' tracks might have belonged to a unit of the Colonial militia traveling in the area, but when they had made camp, he had crept close enough to identify the troops by their uniforms. After they had ridden out the next morning, he found Dominique's shredded stockings by the river and wondered whether she had simply forgotten them or left them behind as a clue to their whereabouts.

  He scooped up a drink from the river and let the cool water trickle slowly down his throat. He had promised Byron that he would bring his daughters home, but he had not anticipated their falling into British hands. He would follow and keep an eye on them, and with luck, he might lure them away, but as he mounted his stallion, he had very little hope of success.

  Already accustomed to riding the whole day, Belle and Dominique did not utter a single word of complaint when the lieutenant pressed his men to travel further than he had in the past. Camden lay approximately fifty miles west of

  the Great Pee Dee River, and they made more than half that distance the first day. In the evening, the sisters again sat apart, but shared the troops' rations.