Free Touch the Sun by Cynthia Wright Page A

completed."
    "Aren't you a vice-president of this Society for Political Enquiries? What's it all about?"
    "Yes, I am, along with George Clymer," Bingham admitted a trifle pompously. "We still meet fortnightly at Dr. Franklin's house. There are only fifty of us and we just discuss politics. Of course, that is quite a topic these days and the doctor is full of ideas and opinions. It is great entertainment for him, but God only knows how much longer he'll be able to get downstairs to the large room."
    "I'd better make a point to see him tomorrow."
    William Bingham puffed on his long, slender pipe, watching Lion across the shadowy study as he stared into the fire. He had been unusually quiet all evening, in spite of Anne and Priscilla's attempts to make him laugh during supper. It was not the dashing Lion Hampshire of months past.
    "Confound it, man, aren't you going to ask me about Reems?"
    Lion looked up, appearing rather bored, but amused by Bingham's consternation. "By all means, do give me the news before you burst with it."
    "Ahem!" He scowled, puffing on his pipe. "The fact is, things did not go well for him, though at least the ship returned intact this time. The man simply lacks talent as a sea captain, I fear. The crews he chooses are inept and untrustworthy, and he makes bad bargains in the Orient. I suppose I needn't spell it out for you. If I didn't know better, I would think the man simply doesn't give a damn, but you should have seen his face when I told him I'd not give my backing again!"
    "You went that far?" He smiled cryptically. "I can well imagine Marcus's reaction."
    "Well, it's made cursed unpleasant by Anne's regard for the man. She claims to find him charming—'mysterious'—and invites him here even yet. I could swear that she enjoys having him about simply because the situation is so uncomfortable!"
    Mockery infected Lion's smile. "Why don't you tell her you won't allow it?"
    The other man choked on his port. "For God's sake, don't you think I've tried? You're a fine one to be giving advice on wife-management. Wait and see a few months from now!" However, watching Lion's cool, lean face, he doubted whether any woman would cross him—even a wife. Such men were hard to come by, and with a qualm, Bingham remembered his recent conversation with Benjamin Franklin.
    "I have been told that you may not take a ship this spring," he blurted.
    Lion looked up, his eyes like blue flames. "How does that set with you?"
    "Naturally, as your backer, I'm disappointed. Mordecai and I have two magnificent ships almost finished at the Kensington shipyard and I was counting on you to captain one of them. No one else has your spirit, your quality of leadership, your competence. You are so at home on the sea, and the men sense it—" The flowery compliments died on his lips when he realized that Lion had withdrawn. "Listen to me. More than disappointment, I feel curiosity. What are you doing? Why this sudden marriage? And why don't you want to sail? Is it because of Priscilla Wade? As your friend, I am concerned—"
    Lion laughed so bitterly that Bingham stared in surprise and puzzlement.
    "Come on, William. We both know that my prime qualification for your friendship is my ability to line your pockets with gold when I sail your ships home up the Delaware! As to my current plans, I'm not inclined to discuss them yet. The whole affair is getting too damn complicated and all I want to do is go home and sleep. I'd be gratified to wake up tomorrow and find all my problems solved." He paused and sighed, closing his eyes. The firelight mingled with his tawny hair and softened the hard lines of his face.
    William Bingham wavered between sympathy and frustration, his basically selfish nature winning out. "Damn it all, you can't dismiss me so easily! I have backed you for more than three years now, making it possible for you to acquire a tidy fortune and majority ownership of two fine vessels. I have offered to shelter some unknown