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man would not agree.”
    “No, but it will greatly anger the people of Boston, particularly when the British give more than the scriptural thirty-nine lashes.”
    They continued their drive along the Neck, and Quin noted the gallows. An iron gibbet hung there, swaying gently, the decaying body of an executed criminal encased inside. He looked away, stunned for an instant by the risk he was taking as a spy. “With the British army quartered here, ’tis like a powder keg waiting to explode. It could blow up in our faces.”
    Johnson shrugged. “Let it blow. ’Tis for a good cause.”
    “ ’T is for a good cause,” Mary Dover told her nieces in the parlor of her Boston home.
    “Aye, but it sounds dangerous.” Virginia frowned as she sat on the ochre-yellow settee.
    Caroline Munro paced silently across the thick imported rug. “But ’tis so exciting! Ginny, we must help Aunt Mary.” She whirled in front of the fireplace to assume a dramatic pose. “ ’Tis our patriotic duty.”
    Virginia flinched as her younger sister’s skirts narrowly missed the flames. After a deep breath to calm herself, her voice revealed only the slightest tremor. “Please don’t stand so close to the fire.”
    With an impatient huff, Caroline sat across from her in a Windsor chair.
    Aunt Mary deposited a tray of refreshments onto the round mahogany table. “I’m afraid you misunderstand me. I only mean to explain my own actions. I’m not expecting you to assist me.”
    “Well, why not?” Caroline asked. “I thought we stayed in Boston to help you.”
    “Father agreed we should keep Aunt Mary company during her period of mourning,” Virginia explained. “He certainly did not give us permission to spy.”
    “You’re right.” Mary passed a linen napkin and silver plate of sugared biscuits to Virginia. “Your father would never forgive me if I put you two in danger.”
    Caroline leaned back in her chair, pouting. “Why can I not help? I’m just as much a rebel as you are.”
    Mary sighed. “I know, but this is something I must do.”
    Virginia selected a biscuit and passed the plate to her sister. “Does this have something to do with your late husband?”
    “I suppose.” Mary handed Caroline a napkin. “He was a difficult man to live with. He wouldn’t allow me to voice any opinions of my own. I was told I must learn to speak properly, meaning not like a Scot, so I wouldn’t cause him embarrassment.” She shook her head as she returned the plate of biscuits to the round table. “I could never be myself.”
    Virginia exchanged a glance with her fifteen-year-old sister. Father had told them about Mary’s abusive Tory husband. Now, at last, Aunt Mary was free. Free and determined to strike a blow against the Tories by spying on them.
    “How exactly do you plan to go about this?” Virginia asked.
    “ ’Tis quite simple.” Mary filled the china teacups with her latest attempt at patriotic pine-needle tea, instead of the overly taxed tea imported from England. “Since my late husband was a Loyalist, I was forced to socialize with the other Loyalists of Boston. I receive invitations to all their parties. Even though I’m in mourning, I have the perfect excuse for attending because I have two lovely young nieces I wish to show off.”
    Caroline clapped her hands together, grinning widely. “Oh, I love parties.”
    With a smile, Mary delivered full cups of tea to her nieces. “First, we shall go to the best seamstress in town and spend a small fortune.”
    “Oh, no.” Virginia set her cup on the small table beside her. “We cannot allow you to spend money on us.”
    “Why not?” Caroline asked, then blushed under her sister’s pointed stare. “No, you really should not,” she protested weakly and set down her cup of tea.
    “Nonsense!” Mary pivoted to face them. “The money is mine now and I intend to enjoy it. We shall go to all the parties, and since many of the British officers will be there, I hope to