Daughter of the Rebellion

Chapter 33

Richard did ask about the newspaper. I told him I was merely curious about the picture on the front, but I know he didn't believe me. I think he suspected, at least vaguely what my reasons were, and so he let me keep my secret without much fuss. Of course, even if he hadn't initially guessed, my sudden interest in the "red-headed she devil" probably told him everything.

In the following months there wasn't much news, though. Everything was speculation and Richard doubted that there was much basis to it at all. I might have agreed, but he told me that if there was such a girl, Captain Shields had a particular interest in her. Hearing that only confirmed it for me. My sister was the supposed red-headed she-devil leading the attacks on the king's men, and was subsequently leading a new rebellion. Probably along with Jeremy and Stephen. Maybe even Aaron.

I was so proud of them, and so desperately afraid for them. They were doing what needed to be done, but putting themselves in terrible danger in the process. And what about Mother and the younger boys? Richard still hadn't been able to find out a thing about them, and with the ever increasing attacks on the king's men, he wasn't likely to send any of his men to investigate further.

"Mother, do I have to stand here much longer?" Keira whined from the step where the seamstress was taking her measurements.

"Not much longer," I promised. "But you're growing so fast, you'll need some new dresses soon."

"I don't want new dresses," she grumbled. "I hate them. I don't know why I can't wear pants like the boys do."

I wanted to smile. She was so much like my sister, though she never met her. They looked nothing alike. My sister had her famed red hair, brown eyes and a face full of freckles. My daughter was blonde-haired and blue-eyed like me, with facial features from Richard's side, and there was nary a freckle in sight. Otherwise, they could have been twins. Raising my daughter was like going back in time and trying futilely to control my sister.

Ada, the seamstress was used to her complaints, but Amelia looked stricken.

"You are not a boy," Amelia scolded. "You are a young lady."

"I wish I wasn't." She crossed her arms since Ada had moved onto her hem.

"Well, there's no changing it," I said. "And don't talk back to your grandmother."

Keira looked unhappy, but held her tongue.

"All done, Miss," Ada said, releasing Keira who wasted no time fleeing the room, probably to try and climb a tree, much to her nurse's dismay. Any other little girl would want to stay and pick out colors and frills. My daughter had no interest in any of it other than to request the least prissy dress possible. Just like her aunt.

"That one really should have been a boy," Amelia said. "How you manage to curb her unladylike ways is beyond me."

"I had practice." I smiled, confusing my mother-in-law. As I said it, I noticed Martha hovering outside the door, looking very determined.

"Why don't you pick out her fabrics," I suggested to Amelia. "I want to check on something."

"Alright." She nodded, looking pleased.

"Just no lace, and heaven help us, no pink or purple," I laughed.

Amelia pursed her lips, apparently not thrilled to comply with those guidelines, and I went to meet Martha in the hall.

"There's news Miss," she said urgently.

"News?" It had to be about this new rebellion. Martha knew that I wanted to know everything.

She nodded and motioned to the empty foyer to the left.

"She's been captured!" Martha said as soon as she was certain that no one else would hear.