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from Williamsburg to Richmond.
    Lately, Mrs. Zeigler seemed to entertain only those who supported the King’s Men, and now it appeared she wanted to marry one again as well.
    Even though Sarah could never imagine her father married to the widow Zeigler, it was most important for Sarah to spend time among the British sympathizers. So she attended these dinners each week without fail.
    While Morah helped the other maids in the kitchen each Sunday, Sarah endured all sorts of meaningless talk from people who thought her father had lost his mind. No decent man, Mrs. Houser once said, would leave his daughter in charge of four thousand acres—as if Sarah would single-handedly ruin all her father and grandfather had built. She knew they doubted her ability, and even worse, she doubted it herself.
    No one seemed to be whispering about her this afternoon. Information had begun to trickle in about the Continental Army fighting against the British occupancy in Charles Towne. Sarah listened intently—and silently—to Mr. Pendell, a professor at the College of William & Mary, as he shared the information he’d gleaned.
    “I heard they were trying to take back South Carolina,” he said.
    Mrs. Pendell fanned her face. “At least Washington’s men aren’t here.”
    The town doctor—Dr. Cooper—stepped forward, a black hat secured in his hands. “I wouldn’t be so certain. I’ve heard Washington and his men might be leaving New York.”
    Mr. Houser put his hand on the edge of the settee, leaning toward the others in their discussion. “It is about time our men showed the rebels in Virginia that the king is serious.”
    Dr. Cooper lifted his glass. “Long live King George.”
    “Hush,” one of the women said, nodding toward the kitchen. “Not all the ears are sympathetic.”
    All the people in the room were Tories, also known as Loyalists. Or at least they claimed to be. It was impossible to know who was stalwart in their convictions and who would turn if Patriots took the town. With her father off fighting with the King’s Men and her brother fighting against them, the people of Williamsburg weren’t quite sure what to think about Sarah.
    She never offered her opinion, and Mr. Pendell’s wife offered hers sparingly. It was best for both of them to remain as indifferent as possible to this war.
    “My dear Sarah,” Mrs. Pendell said, both her arms outstretched as she approached her. She was a large woman who laughed easily and loved books almost as much as Sarah did.
    After embracing Sarah, Mrs. Pendell handed over
The Old English Baron
, a novel she’d borrowed from Sarah’s library three weeks ago.
    “Did you enjoy it?” Sarah asked, perhaps a bit too loudly.
    “Very much,” Mrs. Pendell replied, eyeing the book in Sarah’s lap. “Have you brought me something else to read this week?”
    Sarah handed her
Gulliver’s Travels
. “I fear you won’t find much of interest in this one.”
    “Perhaps next week,” Mrs. Pendell said before she tucked the book under her arm and turned to greet another guest.
    Everyone in Williamsburg seemed to know the Pendells, but Sarah hadn’t known Mrs. Pendell well until a year ago, when Seth informed Sarah that she and Mrs. Pendell were destined to become close friends. Thankfully she enjoyed the woman’s company, and Mrs. Pendell seemed to enjoy hers.
    “Did you hear what happened to Benedict Arnold?” Dr. Cooper asked. When no one replied, he continued. “He was feeding information to the British, and when he was discovered, he ran off to the British army. Now he’s an officer.”
    “I care not if a traitor is for the British or the rebels,” Mr. Pendell declared. “Any traitor should be hanged.”
    Sarah swallowed and glanced up at Mrs. Pendell in spite of herself. The woman’s smile remained frozen as she nodded in earnest beside her husband.
    They might have to rely on deception to do their work, but they were helping deliver information to those who needed it.