Free Twin Speex: Time Traitors Book II by Padgett Lively Page B

mother’s shoulders.
    “She would have come,” he said, “if you had explained.”
    Her mother replied in a voice rough from crying, “I know. That’s why I didn’t tell her. She has built so much, done so much good. Her life is in London… in England.”
    “Odette, all she has built is in jeopardy. Fancy would be the first to understand that.”
    Evelyn saw her mother’s silhouette give a firm shake of its head. “No, I won’t put her through it again.” She turned to wrap her arms around him and lay her head against his chest. “We can’t know for sure what awaits us in the colonies. But whatever it is, it is our fight—my fight.”
    Evelyn crept back to their cabin and was left to wonder what exactly her mother was talking about. She had been told that their move to the colonies was an extension of her parents’ abolitionist work. Her father was to set up an office in Philadelphia. With the help of Doctor Franklin, he would establish a practice based primarily on challenging slavery using the framework of English law. It was something he had done with some success in London.
    Evelyn wasn’t enthusiastic about the move. She had, however, believed in the reason behind it. She was proud of her father and his work. Evelyn knew her mother’s involvement was important, as it was with the transition houses. She worked hard, but always from behind the scenes. Evelyn had heard her mother speak eloquently and at length on both issues, but never in public.
    It was puzzling. Her mother was no timid mouse. She had once been a prima ballerina for the Theatre Royal, a position that required political acumen as well as artistic virtuosity. She definitely kept her daughter in line, Evelyn thought ruefully.
    But here was an even bigger mystery; to what “fight” was her mother referring? Slavery? Evelyn was confused. She knew the situation in the colonies to be explosive, and there was serious talk of revolution. Was she referring to that? How was it their fight? How was it her mother’s?
    “Evie! Ho, Evie, are you even listening to me?” Billy tried to curb the irritable edge to his voice.
    She looked back at him and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Billy. Your mother…”
    He swallowed and looked broodingly out again at the sea. When had she become so pretty? Since the age of seven or eight, he had seen Evelyn two, maybe three times a year, generally during school holidays. Often, she and her family would join him and his grandfather on trips to the coast or the Lake District. Once, they hiked the highlands of Scotland and wandered through the ancient ruins on the Isle of Man.
    They had fallen into the easy relationship of brother and sister. Adventures were planned and carried out in secret; silly games were invented and played with serious endeavor; revenge was plotted and abandoned; arguments were fierce and quick to dissipate; he was always glad to see her, but never really sad to leave her behind.
    What had changed? Certainly not the thick, wild head of black hair, dark complexion, and strong, willowy figure so like her mother’s, or the startling blue eyes she had inherited from her father.
    Billy envied, and sometimes resented, her quick wit and intelligence. With her thoughtful and scholarly focus, she more readily grasped his grandfather’s musings and eclectic interests when Billy was often left in the dark. He had overheard her speaking at length with him about the changes in water temperature and what it might mean in regards to the origins of the Gulf Stream, as was named the current of water that ran within the ocean. She had understood almost immediately the charts Billy had offhandedly passed to her that day he had learned of his connection to the great Benjamin Franklin.
    Evelyn had been nothing but kind and understanding during these past few days while he accustomed himself to his new status. She had overlooked his sulky, churlish behavior with the unnervingly distracted air of an adult.