Felicity: Revolutionary Romance

Chapter 1

Felicity Merriman was quite beautiful, yet men seldom realized it when it was caught by her charm as much as the Pamunkey traders were. In her face, were the sharp blended features of her mother Martha, who was the daughter of a plantation owner, and her father Edward, who ran a small, modest general store in Williamsburg, Virginia where they lived. It was an irresistible face with a soft chin, a soft jaw and hidden dimples. Her eyes were pale green while her hair was hazel-brown that almost took on a red hue. Between them, her matching eyebrows were narrow in contrast to the slanted ones that tilted with her mother's widow's peak, but those rosy cheeks of hers offered a life of color to her marble-tan skin—skin made roughed by both her work and her rebellious nature of riding a horse with both legs astride.

Seated with the Pamunkey trader brothers Alden and Robert on the porch of her father's general store that early winter afternoon of 1773, she made a pretty picture: her straw hat and white silky dress, with it's lacy ruffles around her shoulders and the middle of her body, seemed fitting with the snow that was yet to fall. Her heeled shoes, which she would have favored for the kind that men wear, even seemed ready to camouflage themselves against the snow. Her hair was netted smoothly into the ponytail of a piebald, with two locks on each side settling against her shoulders. The brothers lounged easily on the steps while she herself sat on the top step with both hands in her lap, her thin waist drawing back by a millimeter to hold her breath as she prepared herself for what she was going to say next. It was the brothers, actually, who spoke first.

"From what the boys in the other tribes tell me," said Alden. "The British have been enforcing new rules on their properties like tea taxes, taxes on horses, ships...or so I read."

"Your sources are wrong," Robert declared. "I think it's property that they want. They have been doing it for almost a hundred years, now. What do you make of it, Felicity?"

Felicity, having just turned eight at the time, could only express her interests at the falling brown leaves that were about to make way for the winter season. In response to Robert's opinion, she said.

"I think they're a bunch of silly gooses. I hear the grownups talking about the British wanting a war with us for a long time that it's making me bored. The British people that I know of are too polite to start a war. Why I heard Ben talking with Father the other day that the governors want an amicable agreement with the British about the Parliament taxes and all of those other things. So that goes to show that there won't be any war."

"I sure hope that they won't," said Robert fearfully. "Especially after what happened to all those people over in Boston."

Even though he had never been there to witness it, the Boston Massacre was definitely an ugly sight to see. The British who committed these horrible actions had literally painted the town red.

"Hearing about what happened in Boston makes me shudder," Felicity said. "Why not we talk about something else?"

"Yes, of course," said Robert. "Like the fact that the British are too snobby to invite us over to their early Christmas party next month."

"That's not a very nice thing to say," Felicity's eyes squinted. "Maybe if they are as generous as the Coles, they should consider inviting Indians and Negroes, even if they are... you know."

The brothers ears leaned closer to her mouth as she made that dreadful whisper of a word.

"Slaves."

From within the general store floated the soft voice of Felicity's mother, Martha Merriman, as she called to Felicity's little sister Nan, who carried her basket of keys. The high-pitched, childish voice answered "Yes, Mummy," and there were sounds of footsteps going out the back way toward the house where Felicity lived. Felicity assumed that they were going home to prepare dinner.

At these last sounds, the brothers realized it was time they were starting home, having been unable to buy anything for their mother as they lingered on the porch of the general store, momentarily expecting Felicity to give them an invitation to supper.

"Look, Felicity. About the party," said Alden. "Just because we've been away on the trade route and didn't know about it, that's no reason why we shouldn't get plenty of dances. You know most of our people's dances, have you not?"

"Well, I know a little. Why else do you think I good horseback riding? To see how your people live. But I couldn't risk being seen while I was waiting for you two."

"You're a friend to all!" The boys declared uproariously.

"Look, Felicity. You've got to teach me and Robert the waltz and you've got to eat supper with us. We'll sit on the stair landing like we did at Lady Templeton's ball last Christmas and get one of her servants to give us some food."

"I'm sure Lady Templeton would not have minded you to feat on the remnants of her hors d'oeuvres."

"You like them red-headed, don't you, Felicity?" grinned Alden. "Now, come on, promise us all the waltzes and the supper."

"If you'll promise, we'll tell you a secret," said Robert.

"What?" cried Felicity, alert as a child at the word.

"Is it what we heard yesterday nearby the manor, Robert? If it is, you know we promised not to tell."

"Well, Mrs. Fitchett told us."

"Mrs Fitchett?"

"Yes, when we were over by the manor yesterday, resting for the ride home, her carriage went by the manor and she stopped and talked to us, and she told us there was going to be an engagement announced at the party next month."

"To whom?"

"One of the Cole sisters, I believe. We don't know which one yet."

Felicty's head made only two guesses as to who the lucky girl was before Alden interrupted her thought.

"Now will you promise us a waltz?"

"Of course, I will. But not for too long, I don't want to get sick if it snows heavily on the night of the party."

Felicity saw the brothers as mere friends rather than suitors. She knew right away that she was much too young to have a suitor of her own, but it wouldn't be long now. Perhaps in another three years, she would find a soulmate to spend the rest of her life with, maybe even herself since she was quite a tomboy with feminism in the veins of her blood. She would always give them a simple yes or no to whatever offers and promises they made to each other as it often goes with the code of the Pamunkey.

As she continued to ponder over this, the sun was lows across the tall woods and the houses and stores were looming blackly in silhouette. Alden and Robert stood to leave, having finished conversing about the latest transactions conducted by the fathers of their tribe.

"We can cut through the river and reach Father in no time," said Robert.

He lifted himself onto his big red horse and then, with a yell and a tap from his right foot, ran off down the street. Alden's horse followed, with Alden clinging to pommel and mane. Alden did not like to jump over any obstacle of any kind, but he had jumped higher ones than this in order to keep up with his brother.

As they picked their way across the brown furrows and down the street, out of town, to the river bottom in the deepening dusk, Alden yelled to his brother:

"Look, Robert! Don't it seem like to you that Felicity WOULD have asked us to supper?"

"I kept thinking she would," yelled Robert. "Why do you suppose . . ."