Free The Mistress of Tall Acre by Laura Frantz Page A

take her one step farther away from Lily Cate. The situation clawed at him, begged his help. All he could do was appeal to a higher power.
    It was late in the day when he found General Washington alone. In full dress uniform, Washington cast him back to the battlefield and countless meetings with fellow officers. As always, the commander in chief listened thoughtfully as Seamus laid out the dilemma of Three Chimneys and asked him to intervene.
    His expression was grave, his voice low. “You’re aware of the talk surrounding Major Menzies . . . that he may have defected with Benedict Arnold?”
    Seamus all but winced. Washington never cast suspicion that wasn’t warranted. “I’ve heard unconfirmed reports. No solid proof.”
    Washington nodded intently and then outmaneuvered him. “Is the property—this Three Chimneys—a valuable one? Good timber, fertile fields, ample water supply?”
    “Aye, all of it.”
    “And is the lady in question amiable? Young as you?”
    Young? Seamus didn’t feel young. The aches and complaints in his limbs bespoke age and adversity and more. But Sophie, despite her painful leanness, still seemed youthful. “I believe she is.”
    “Is she comely? In your eyes at least?”
    Seamus hesitated. He’d not thought of Sophie in those terms. Didn’t want to think of her in those terms. But the general required honesty above all else. “She’s lovely, aye.”
    “Does she share your patriotism?”
    He nodded, well aware of where Washington was leading.
    “And are you not a widower with a young daughter in need of a mother?” The ensuing pause was painful. And then a wry glimmer lit Washington’s silver-blue eyes. “As one of my top officers, you’ve never needed me to spell things out for you, Seamus, so I’ll simply ask—what are you waiting for?”
    Seamus bit back an excuse, though he couldn’t fault Washington’s logic. He himself had married a young widow with two children before the war. Martha Custis Washington was as charming and amiable as they came.
    Washington clapped him on the back. “Why not save me any wrangling with Congress over Tory holdings and settle the matter yourself?”
    Colin appeared just then, sparing him an answer. “Time for cards and drinks in the parlor, gentlemen. We’ll have a little more merriment before Sally and I are on our way.”
    Seamus joined in halfheartedly, so distracted he couldn’t attend to the hand in front of him. He ended up losing at whist, his partner and opponents staring at him in stark surprise. With skills honed around countless smoky campfires, he was usually top of his game in terms of strategy and tactics.
    His thoughts spun and refused to settle. Here he’d just told Colin he had no thought of remarrying, and Washington was making a case and trying to talk him into it.
    Sophie Menzies Ogilvy.
    It was too obvious, too easy a solution. Even if Lily Cate was wild about her, he didn’t love Sophie Menzies. He’d never thought of her as anything but the unfortunate daughter of a despised Tory.
    She’d never considered him either, he was willing to wager.

    The motion of the rocking chair was soothing, the snap and pop of the fire nearly lulling Sophie to sleep. Lily Cate’s warm weight spread across her like a quilt, her dark head upon Sophie’s bony shoulder, her small body curled catlike in her lap. As the clock struck seven, the winter darkness crept in, moonless and deep, magnifying the night sounds.
    She heard hoofbeats even before Glynnis announced someone. She knew it was the general. But alone . . . or with a bride? Though he’d only been gone a week, it felt far longer.
    In a few minutes he stood before her, winded and windswept, his cocked hat tucked beneath one arm. She looked up at him, masking the way her heart jumped at his appearing. How could a man look and smell so fine after so long a ride? Almost like a . . . bridegroom.
    “Come sit by the fire and warm yourself, General.” She mulled the