Mercy for the Patriots

Chapter Nine: The Greatest Girl in America

Soon after Elizabeth came to me with the news that Aunt Ford had properly disowned me, I took my typical refugee in the library. Many times I had thought about, even wished to be freed from my aunt's restraining grip, but the feeling of being unwanted my flesh and blood was a prospect that left deep wounds. Soon those wounds healed, but would leave scars that lasted forever.

The volume I had tried so hard to lift from the top of the shelf had long been discarded, as it was some of the driest reading I had ever had the misfortune of cracking the cover open. Instead I had retrieved the extrodianry Mr. Thomas Paine's phamplet: Common Sense. I was deep within discussion of government and revolution when a dramatic, soft voice made my face redden immediately.

"Reading again, are we not, mon cher ami?" There was a soft bounce in the fabric as Lafayette sat on the conch next to me.

Purposly I didn't look up. "If that is what it looks like." Instantly I winced at the discourteous statement.

Instead Lafayette let out a smooth laugh. "Pretty and witty, Ms. Mercy." The folds of his jacket rubbed against each other as he moved closer to me. "Why will you not look up at me, Miss?"

Letting out a displeased sigh, I looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "Mr. Lafayette," I said slowly. "Is there any practical reason as to talking to me?"

His blue eyes gazed intently at me. "Besides talking to the smartest and prettiest girl in all of America?" He sat back, as if thinking, then said, "I am afraid there is no practical reason at all."

"Then you must leave me to my reading," I smiled. "And go bother my dear cousin Elizabeth instead."

As I turned back to the pamphlet, I felt a slender hand grab my shoulder.

"Miss Mercy," Lafayette said, eyes wide and intense. "I have cut down British regulars and commanded troops with a bullet in my leg. I have defied my king and sailed across the sea— twice— as a fugitive. How can it be that I cannot charm you?"

My face must have shown the surprise that the Frenchman would speak so freely, for he soon pounced on that vulnerability.

"Many times I have looked into the faces of women and seen handsomeness, but there is something else with you, Miss Mercy." His head tilted. "Something... which I have only seen in the eyes of the truly great."

I opened my mouth to respond, but soon closed it abruptly.

"Lafayette, I truly think you must go now." I tried to keep the words light and fun, but failed with a dull tone.

"Why must you keep pushing me away?"

"Sir! This conversation has no... no grounds and I must get back to my reading."

The Frenchman looked to the ground, disappointed. For a moment I felt bad for him, then remembered my ill-fated experience with Mr. Loony; the man I had been betrothed to for only a week.

"I will go if you do one thing for me," Lafayette said finally. "May I kiss you?"

I didn't respond, only stared at him in shock. I had never met anyone so open and careless about protocol and manners than this young French gentleman.

"I..." There was nothing to say.

"Miss Mercy, you are the greatest girl in America," he said pleadingly. "And I will stay here and bother you forever if you do not kiss me."

"Then I will not kiss you," I said playfully, regaining my voice.

A smile appeared on his face at my flirtatious remark. For a moment we stared at each other, barely blinking as we seemed to absorb each others thought with no words. And in the very moment when my lips touched his, I forgot completely about protocol and Aunt Ford, my brother Obedience and my old betrothed. The War. I forgot about about all of it.

It was just Lafayette and Mercy.

Mercy and Lafayette.