Free Tesla's Time Travelers by Tim Black

afraid I don’t know ‘Cassadaga,’ Miss Messinger,” Peggy Shippen said.
    “Florida, Miss Shippen,” Minerva replied. “My sister, my cousin and I are just visiting your fair city.”
    “Cassadaga?” Peggy Shippen asked.
    “The name of our father’s plantation,” Bette interjected.
    Peggy Shippen nodded understanding. “Are you part Spanish, Miss Messinger?”
    Minerva realized Peggy Shippen took their darker tanned skin color as Mediterranean in origin. And after all, the Spanish had developed Florida before the British took it over after the Seven Years’ War. She needed a fib.
    “Ponce de Leon was our ancestor,” Minerva lied.
    Peggy Shippen gave Minerva a look that Minerva took for doubt. “You’ve come a long way, Miss Messinger. So who is your handsome cousin?”
    Why, the little flirt, Minerva thought, but smiled. “Allow me to introduce my sister Elizabeth and my cousin Victor Bridges.
    “Mr. Bridges,” Peggy smiled, ignoring Bette. “I take it that you are not related to that Cornelia Bridges, that silly woman who makes flags for the foolish rebel traitors. That silly flag of the Pennsylvania Navy with that preposterous motto ‘Appeal to Heaven.’”
    “I am no relation to her, Miss Shippen,” Victor said.
    “Your card, sir?” Peggy inquired.
    Victor was in a tight spot. Minerva thought fast. “The silly boy left them in his trunk I’m afraid,” Minerva said, knowing that her prevarications would cause her to need to go to confession on Saturday before she attended mass on Sunday. She was racking up the Hail Mary’s, she realized.
    Victor blushed and Peggy Shippen seemed to accept the excuse as honest due to the embarrassment on his face.
    “What business is your father in, Miss Messinger?”
    Oops, Minerva thought. Now I need help!
    As if reading Minerva’s thought, Bette chimed in: “Father has a plantation with a hundred slaves,” Bette said.
    Peggy Shippen appeared impressed, Minerva thought. Bette’s whopper seemed to work.
    Minerva looked at Peggy Shippen’s hat and coat and suddenly thought of the answer. “Father grows indigo, Miss Shippen. We grow dye to die for,” Minerva added, realizing as soon as she said it that she was over the top, for Peggy Shippen seemed puzzled by the expression “dye to die for.”
    “God save the king,” Victor said. “Damn these rebels to hell,” he added theatrically.
    Victor, what are you doing? Minerva wondered, but the words brought a broad smile to Peggy Shippen’s face. “God save the king and damn these rebels to hell, Mr. Bridges. I quite agree,” she said. “You and your charming cousins must come to Shippen Mansion this evening for supper. Shall we say six, then?”
    “Six it is, Miss Shippen,” Victor replied, taking her hand and gallantly kissing her glove.
    “And where should I send my carriage to pick you up, Mr. Bridges?”
    Yes, where? thought Minerva.
    “Graff House near Seventh Street,” Victor replied.
    Victor Bridges continued to surprise Minerva Messinger.

Chapter 5
    “You did very well, Minerva,” Victor said as Peggy Shippen returned to her father, who was standing outside the Custom House. “That was brilliant improvisation. You too, Bette.”
    “Victor, you are sending Peggy Shippen to the house where Thomas Jefferson is staying,” Minerva said. “She’s a Loyalist!”
    “That’s the only place that I could think of, Minerva. What should I have said? Send your carriage to Independence Hall, Miss Shippen?”
    “Relax, both of you,” Bette interjected. “We won’t be here at six anyway, unless Mr. Greene doesn’t get the portable to return. Besides, maybe if Peggy Shippen meets the author of the Declaration of Independence he can make her see the light.”
    “Bette, that is butterflying,” Victor said.
    “Victor,” she replied. “Do you think anyone or anything could turn the Wicked Witch of the West into Glenda the Good? Besides, what hostess in the 18 th century would actually