Free The General’s Wife: An American Revolutionary Tale by Regina Kammer

towels and draw up the covers.” He turned his back to her once again to attend to the teas.
    He prepared three tonics: willow bark to relieve cramps, valerian to do the same and help her sleep, and bitter wormwood with honey to quicken the release of the fetus. He knew the recipes for relief by heart. How many times had he done this for his girls? Relief for menstrual cramps was to be expected, but too many of the girls lost count of their days, or forgot to take carota seeds after intercourse, or forgot to use a pessary. Too many times Paul had had to end an unplanned pregnancy.
    One by one he brought the brews to Lady Strathmore, making sure she had a bit of meat pie between each drink. She might experience a slight fever, he told her. Eventually, she fell asleep amidst tears and sweat. Paul stripped off his jacket and shoes and climbed into bed with her, pulling her to him but unsure for whose comfort the tender act was meant to be.

Chapter Six
    “I should be so mad at you.” Redmond paced the length of the second-floor bedroom, his arms tight at his sides, hands balled into fists, restraining the urge to hit something, anything.
    “Redmond, love, please understand, I had to do it. They might have hurt you more if I hadn’t given in.” Annabella sat on the edge of the bed wringing her hands. “They could have killed you,” she said hoarsely.
    He had spent the better part of the week cursing her, wanting to punish her, playing out scenarios in his head. Exerting his control over her in the coach only served to rile him up. She had given in far too easily to a man who, at the time, was a stranger to her. And now, after she had attempted a tender reunion, they had spent the last half hour arguing about her conduct with the general and the Hessian officers.
    He was starving. He couldn’t continue arguing with her on an empty stomach. Besides, finally alone with her, the very first time without the risk of someone walking in on them, he simply could not stay mad at her.
    And that just made him mad at himself.
    He leaned against the mantel and ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “Christ, Annabella. What should I think?”
    She stroked his back tentatively. “That I love you. That I would do anything for you.”
    He softened at her caress.
    “Redmond, sweet, I have been sick with worry for the last week. And now you’re here with me. Please forgive whatever it is I have done. I just want to be with you right now.”
    His stomach rumbled.
    She giggled. “I’m hungry, too. Is there anything to eat?”
    “We stocked food in an old kitchen downstairs.” He turned to face her. She looked up at him, earnestness mixed with trepidation. He lifted her chin and pecked her lips. “C’mon.”
    They had never shared a meal together, and the simple act of eating cold pies and cider inspired talk of living a normal life as man and wife. She flirted and giggled and made him laugh, and he quickly forgot his anger. But he could not forget why they were there in the first place. She didn’t ask. She probably thought she had been kidnapped just to be with him.
    Annabella pushed back from the table and gazed at him with a tilt of her head and a raised brow. “Redmond,” she said, licking her lips. “We’ve never been alone like this before. Shouldn’t we make the most of it?”
    She was right, and anything he had to say to her could wait for morning. He smiled a devious smile. “Let’s go back upstairs,” he said, taking her hand.
    The fire had died in the bedroom, but it was still cozy. He threw another log on the grate and pulled up an old wingback by the hearth. He sat down.
    “Take off your clothes,” he commanded.
    Annabella hesitated and shot him a questioning look.
    “Perhaps you did not hear the first time,” he growled. “Take off your clothes, woman.”
    She sucked in a lip and proceeded to untie her kerchief, then pulled it off languidly, holding his gaze until his eyes dipped to her bared