Read Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution for Free Online Page B

their stares on the pistol, the dogs still growling.   She slammed the door shut with her foot and
extinguished the lantern.   "Mary,
drop the bars across both doors."   If Will came home, he'd have to sleep in the stable.
    Mary complied,
and Sophie peeked out the dining room window, but it was too dark to see
much.   She strode into the shop and
peered out the windows while Mary barred the front door.   Nothing.
    "A-A-Are
they gone?"
    Sophie sighed,
certain the girl was twisting her fingers in her shift.   Having an indentured servant had seemed a
good option to slavery, which Sophie abhorred, but Mary possessed neither spine
nor brains.   "I hope so.   Make sure all windows on the ground floor
are closed."
    Back in the
pressroom, she lit a lantern and loaded another pistol.   She and Mary secured the house, and she sent
the girl up to bed, forcing herself to remain awake another hour.   The Spaniards didn't return, and the dogs
calmed.
    Still, when she
trudged up to bed at two o'clock Sunday morning, she carried the pistols with
her.   In the doorway of her father's
bedroom, she paused to whisper, "What's become of you?"
    ***
    "Mrs.
Barton!   Wake up!   Please, wake up!"
    Not again.   Sophie moaned and rolled over in bed,
opening one eye.   This time, at least it
was daylight.
    Mary set a
towel and pitcher of water beside the washbasin.   "Major Hunt is downstairs asking for you, and he brought
that — that unpleasant Lieutenant Fairfax and a dozen soldiers!"
    Dread clambered
over Sophie.   "Inform him I'll be
down in five minutes.   Then help me
dress."   Mary curtsied and scurried
out.   Sophie rolled from bed, tied her
hair back with a ribbon, and sloshed water in the basin.   By the time Mary returned, she was already
blotting off her face.
    Edward appeared
to have passed the night in the same restless state she had, and his expression
filled with duty when she entered the shop.   Fairfax, too, had bags under his eyes, but vitality blossomed across his
face at the sight of her.   Outside, a
sea of redcoats blocked her view of the street.   She said, "May I serve you gentlemen something to
drink?"
    Edward shook
his head.   "I would speak with your
father.   Where is he this morning?   His horse isn't stabled."
    "I don't
know where he is.   He didn't come home
last night."
    He extended his
arm in Fairfax's direction.   From a
leather portfolio, Fairfax withdrew a broadside.   Edward showed it to Sophie.   It depicted a redcoat bayoneting a kneeling militiaman, and the caption
read, "Tarleton's Quarter."
    She touched her
fingers to her mouth in horror, unable to tear her gaze from the gruesome
image.   "Ye gods."   So that's what the Committee had printed two
nights before.   "How horrid."
    His expression
hard, Edward handed the broadside back to Fairfax.   "We found ten of them posted about town.   Since the print run lasted most of Friday
night, there were clearly more than ten printed.   Where are the rest?"
    "I've no
idea.   I'd nothing to do with it."
    This time
Fairfax handed him a newspaper.   Edward
held it out for her, and she examined it.   "Last Wednesday's paper."
    He nodded.   "You supervised the printing?"
    "Yes."   She glanced at Fairfax.   His eyes glittered.   His face held the rapture of a saint who has
communed with angels.   The ache in her
belly flared like dry kindling on a banked campfire.
    Edward directed
her attention to an advertisement for Zeb's dance.   "Notice the crease in the lowercase 'e' of Mr. Harwick's
first name."
    "Yes."   Her mouth dry, she sensed what was coming.
    "Examine
the broadside again.   What do you see in
the lowercase 'e' of Colonel Tarleton's name?"
    "A crease
in the curve."   She silently
lambasted her father for not having been more cautious.
    "Would
that not imply that these documents were printed by the same hand?"
    She lifted her
chin.   "Yes, but I've already told
you I'd nothing to do with the production of that