Free Jack Absolute by C.C. Humphreys

the table.
    The smile on the General’s face broadened. ‘Oh yes, I know I can rely on Captain Absolute. I have had a number of proofs of
     his loyalty over the years.’
    ‘Even when he proclaims damned traitor sentiments?’ Skene’s heated face had coloured even more dangerously.
    ‘Especially then. When he stops proclaiming them, I may begin to watch my back.’
    Thwarted, Skene muttered, ‘Well, you appear like a damned traitor to me.’
    ‘No traitor, sir. Just a true born Englishman who breathes liberty as he breathes air and would not deny that same air to
     others.’ He paused but only for breath. ‘It is just fourteen years since all Englishmen, on both continents, put an end to
     the threat of France and their tyranny in these lands. We could not have done it without the men we now call traitors. Together
     we can keep ourselves free of that tyranny. Together we can have what every man desires – the liberty to pursue his own course,
     unhindered by the restraint of obligation. Many of our American brethren feel, with some cause, that they are unequal partners
     in that enterprise. So let’s beat them, but not humiliate them. Let’s beat them, then welcome them back as brothers– good play is fair play – and, together, we can conquer the world.’
    It was a failing of his, this venting of passion. He could no more contain it than he could catch the wind in cupped hands.
     The hot Bishop, the hot room, the hot eyes of Louisa were all goads. But he’d have probably spoken the same way alone in the
     Arctic.
    Skene seemed as if he were about to choke. He pulled at his collar, grabbed a glass, and drained it, set it down with a determination
     that spoke to a renewal of the fight. But it was a woman’s voice that prevented him.
    ‘I’ve always maintained,’ Louisa said calmly, ‘that Jack is an “absolute-skein” of contradiction.’
    It was a little joke, the kind of pun they all revelled in. The company exhaled their laugh as one, saving Skene and his timid
     spouse. The tension punctured, Jack looked to Louisa, joined in the laugh. He had broken cover, revealed his position. Now
     perhaps he could sink back and resume his watch. He had to report to the General, after all.
    The General was not going to give him the chance. ‘Since Captain Absolute has raised the subject of a fight – and given us
     some indication of the contrary opinions we are likely to encounter – perhaps the time has come to reveal to you all, esteemed
     allies and officers, how I intend to carry that fight to my opponents. How I intend to pin them to the floor of the wrestling
     ring and make them plead for terms. You there!’ At his raised voice, servants came into the cabin, at his gesture, the remnants
     of food were cleared swiftly, leaving only glasses and decanters of port and cognac. Most of the men reached within pouches
     for tobacco. As the hubbub swirled around him, Burgoyne stood calmly filling his pipe, his eyes unfocused, as if he were staring
     through the wood of the table and on through a continent.
    Louisa and Mrs Skene rose to leave, but the General wavedthem down. ‘I have a feeling you will both be sharing the hazards of this campaign,’ he said. ‘You should share the knowledge
     of it too.’
    When the last of the servants withdrew, when all glasses were charged, Burgoyne picked up a lamp, held it so that his face
     was lit from below.
    ‘St John’s, north of Lake Champlain,’ he said, placing the flickering glass on the table before him. ‘The advance guard of
     my army gathers there, organized by my dear General Phillips, whose skill with artillery you will all acknowledge.’ There
     was a muttering around the table, glasses raised. ‘We march to join him with our main forces: our German allies under dear
     Baron von Riedesel here,’ the General, with his interpreter whispering in his ear, inclined his head, ‘the British regiments
     of the line, each carrying banners that denote a