Becoming Miss Lee

Chapter 6 - In the Den of Lions

Alas, I had to revert to my New Yorker accent and I sighed when he brought up the fact that my accustomed and beloved Virginian drawl had to submit to the exaggerated and rather irritating accent of New York. He patted my cheek lightly like you would to appease a small child who reluctantly obeyed the command of a parent and looked around uneasily. I still had to become accustomed to being more careful than usual in this place. I glanced about as well and we locked eyes before he grabbed the back of my head and pressed our foreheads together, "Be careful, Pythias."

"Go in peace, Aglaea, and remember: you are in the lion's den as soon as you set foot in that house. We have to help the General, but if you feel like you have to go because it is no longer safe, leave. Trust your instincts. I want you to come back to me so I do not have to deal with Ben alone. He is simply unbearable sometimes." It was the first time since we had come to New York that I actually felt us both genuinely smile at one another. I could see that he was worried for us, how all of that worry about him and about me seemed to add small new lines to his face, and I let our foreheads rest together for a long time, just like we used to back in Connecticut when we would get done thinking for the evening before we would head home. He gave my forehead a small kiss and left me standing alone behind the inn. He vanished quickly, quietly, and without another word.

-

I had prepared myself fully for the next evening. I did up my hair fashionable, adding little accents like pearls and perfume. I wore Miss Anne's birthday gift, a pearl choker with an ivory flower as its centerpiece, and its matching bracelet. My dress was a dark burgundy with wine ruffles and bows flourishing at the bodice and sleeves. I was dressed to impress, making sure that my stays were laced up just a little tighter, and that my now ample bosom was displayed properly, making downy pillows above the neckline of my dress just enough to be noticed, but not improper. Display is important, oh so important. Men are able to pick up on details that they wish to notice and a lady's bosom falls into that category of details that they choose to notice. I headed downstairs to enter the carriage when my uncle intercepted me, "Nathan is here to see you." Almost before he could finish, Nathan emerged from the doorway and stared at me, blinking at me like he had never seen a woman in formal evening attire before. "Make it quick!" I was surprised to hear my uncle actually sound anxious. "We do not want to be late!"

"Oh, well, if it isn't Professor Hale!" I giggled and gave a polite bow. "How lovely to see you this fine evening!"

Nathan seemed at a loss for words for a moment before clearing his throat, "Um, yes, I was just, um, coming to remind you that you- you are going to ask about troop...troop numbers, yes?" I nodded slowly and he shifted on his feet and passed a hand over the back of his neck, "Ehm, good! Excellent! You look absolutely stunning- I mean, you look- Oh for god's sake!" His cheeks had turned red enough that even the dim candlelight was not enough to mask them and I desperately attempted to check the smile forming on my face for his sake, but to no avail.

"Ben was right about you having no social graces with women at all..." I raised a hand to my mouth to hide my ever widening smile as Nathan hung his head in embarrassment. "Thank you, Nathan." My uncle, exasperated, grabbed my arm and pulled me away to the door.

"Be careful, Bea!" He called out, hurrying out the door after us.

-

When we entered Howe's residence for this party, there were already several officers in attendance, including dashing General Clinton, whom I saw gazing on at Howe in a relative state of eternal spite that I knew he had for his commander. While my uncle greeted those guests, I floated over to the gentleman General, who had taken up sitting alone and awaiting friends of his own. "All alone, Sir Clinton?"