Mercy for the Patriots

Chapter Three: Look Where We are Now

My brother Obedience's words rang through my head as I hurried down the hall.

"Remember what Thomas Paine said, Mercy. 'Men should not petition for rights, but take them.' It is my duty, and yours too, to serve my country. The only way for us to gain freedom is if we are willing to sacrifice everything we can possibly give up. Do you hear me, Mercy? You must be willing to sacrifice everything, just as I am doing without a hesitation or an afterthought."

I knew I was willing to sacrifice anything, just like Obedience said. I was willing to do anything to join General Washington's army, and fight for freedom and independence from England.

But how I would was the greater part of the question.

Aunt Ford's cook stood face-to-face with General Washington, trying to persuade him to leave the manor.

"This is very unusual, sir," she said quickly, "and Madam Ford is in no position to give strangers, even a gentleman like yourself, housing for the entire winter. She has a family to take care of!"

Slowly I peeked around the corner of hall and saw that five men were standing in the front hallway of the mansion, along with one very short women looking around in a very concerned fashion. My eyes went straight to General Washington— even without ever seeing him before I knew that the tall, powerful man was him— no one else could radiate as much command over a room as he. He had rich blue eyes and powered hair, as well as a spotless uniform with tall black riding boots. There were other gentlemen around him similar in height, but none looked as regal or prominent.

The cook, Jenny, saw me lurking out of the corner of her eye, and instantly a look of relief crossed her face.

"Miss Painter!" she exclaimed, and with an apologetic look at the military men she hurried to me, wringing her hands. "Thank goodness you are here. Stay, and just keep them from... doing anything while I get Madame Ford."

All the eyes in the room went to me, and I stood stock-still, all too conscious of how my hair wasn't curled or powered, or how my gown was too low and my stays too tight. These were the men who I and my brother had always wanted to meet, always wanted to impress, yet here I was, standing and failing. Their stares penetrated me any words in my heart didn't make it to my brain.

"Erm..."

The gentleman on General Washington's right stepped forward. He was of average height, and didn't wear his hair powdered or curled, it was simply pulled to the nape of his neck. His uniform was the same as everyone else, yet something in his pale blue-grey eyes made me look closer. A mischievous twinkle and smile was hidden, waiting to be uncovered.

"I am very sorry to stare," he said with a heavy but clear French accent," but I have never seem a mademoiselle as handsome as yourself."

The tension from the room dispersed into smiles and chuckles, and I silently nodded my thanks to the Frenchman, trying not the blush too much at the handsome man's compliments.

I quickly curtsied, bowing my head to the others. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Mrs. Ford's niece, Mercy Painter." I looked at the General, whose foot was tapping impatiently. "She... she should be here any moment, to discuss anything with you, General Washington." His foot stopped tapping, and I felt a sigh of relief.

"Miss Mercy," announced the Frenchman. He stepped forward and took my hand, bowed low over it as if I was a queen, and lightly kissed it. All at once I felt my cheeks burn. "A name as elegant as the mademoiselle who beholds it." He nodded kindly to me. "I am General Marquis de Lafayette, sent by the French to serve a cause as noble as the American cause for independence."

I nodded briskly, and quickly averted my eyes from the Marquis's gaze, trying not to blush anymore. The man talked more and more, tossing out bits of french phrases and other words that no one but him understood.

Finally, a very somber young man put his hand on the Marquis's arm and said seriously," My dear Lafayette. Please curb your enthusiasm." He looked at me through dark, dark brown eyes. "Miss Painter, I would like to apologize for my companion's rudeness." He bowed his head quickly. "Colonel Alexander Hamilton, camp-de-aide to General Washington."

I stared into Mr. Hamilton's eyes, grateful for something to look at other than the dashing French general.

"May I ask, why you are here in Morristown?" I ventured.

The colonel hesitated, then looked back at General Washington, whose only movement was a firm nod. He opened his mouth to speak.

"We are wintering here in Morristown, Miss. Our troops are in Jockey Hollow, some five miles from here, with more regiments coming every day."

The brisk noise of heels echoed through the room, and conscious of my aunt's imminent annoyance and pent-up anger, drew back to make way for her immediately. As I stepped back, I ran into another person. Looking up, I saw it was the Marquis, and flushed redder than an crisp apple in the fall.

"My apologies," I muttered, and tried not to reveal my eagerness to move away from him. Childish crushes were not my top priority— becoming one of General Washington's aides was. And no matter how unusual it might be for a woman like myself, I had no eagerness to get married, and therefore no eagerness to be close to the flirty young Frenchman. Once I was far enough away, I focused my attention to Aunt Ford, whose was swelling in anger like a frog.

"You cannot possibly use my house as a military headquarters!" she said shrilly.

"Madame Ford, this mansion is in the most ideal spot for a headquarters," General Washington said firmly. "It is in the sake of the Revolution that we stay here, for no other house in Morristown is equipped with such a tactful position away from our main body of troops." When my aunt didn't say anything else he persisted, saying a gruff," please."

Aunt Ford was very still. Silently I begged her to let the General winter here in the mansion. There was no other way to fulfill my promise to Obedience and give up something for my country then to help General Washington in a subject I knew better than my own person— military tactics.

I knew it was a ridiculous prospect of having a woman help the distinguished General Washington, but when I was only a child, the people of my home New York said that the colonists ever starting a full-throated rebellion against England was ridiculous.

But look where we were now.