Love’s Betrayal (34 page)

“Are you hungry yet?” Mr. LaTournay asked. “This might be our best opportunity to partake from this increasingly heavy basket.”

Georgette laughed. “You ought to have spoken sooner.”

“There are shady places here along the river. See? Others had the same idea.” He indicated a family of five seated on a blanket near the shore.

“A lovely big tree stands at the top of that knoll, away from the road. May we dine there with a view of the river?” she suggested. At his nod, she hoisted her skirts and led the way.

Mr. LaTournay spread the blanket and waited while Georgette fluffed her skirts in a circle. “I shall set out the luncheon, if you like,” she offered, reaching for the basket. Caramel flopped down on the grass to pant.

As soon as Mr. LaTournay was seated, she handed him a lamb pasty wrapped in cloth. “Will you ask a blessing on our food?”

He nodded and bowed his head. Belatedly, he removed his hat. Holding it to his chest, he spoke slowly. “Almighty God, You have provided this food for us. It amazes me that You would notice us humans, yet You say we are important to You. I ask that You will lead Georgette and me in Your ways. Teach us to fear You and to hope in Your mercy. Amen.”

He slid his hat back upon his head and bit into the pasty. Georgette wondered at the contradictions of his character. How could a man of such ill repute pray so convincingly?

They ate in silence for several minutes, watching the pedestrians and carriages, squinting in the sparkle of sunlight off the Hudson River. Georgette wanted to learn more about Mr. LaTournay, yet she did not know how to begin questioning him. He seemed a private person, as if a high wall protected his inner emotions. The brief glimpses she'd had into his heart left her wary.

Why did she feel as if she knew her covert admirer more fully than she understood her overt fiancé? The question always remained: Why would such a man choose Georgette Talbot for a wife?

Caramel recovered when the aroma of lamb reached his twitching nose. Sitting up and pawing the air, he begged for pasty. Mr. LaTournay rewarded his antics with bits of meat, then took him down to the river for a drink.

When they returned, Georgette offered Mr. LaTournay the remaining strawberries. “I fear I have few skills that will be helpful on a farm. I cannot cook or milk a cow, and my sewing skills are merely adequate.”

Settling back on the blanket, Mr. LaTournay lifted a brow, no doubt surprised by her abrupt comment. “My sister can teach you any household skills you wish to learn.” He popped a berry into his mouth.

“Your sister lives on the farm?”

“Francine helps run the farm and estate.” His long fingers fondled Caramel's ears.

“She is unmarried?”

“Francine recently married Jan Voorhees, our foreman; they live nearby on the property. She is my elder by two years. Before leaving home in the spring, I told her of my intent to marry. She will be pleased to have a sister. The main house will be ours alone, shared only with the servants. I hope to travel less often after we are married.”

Georgette determined to make their home so pleasant he would never wish to leave.

When General Washington and his retinue arrived, an enthusiastic crowd greeted them. To Georgette's surprise, a member of the New York Provincial Congress introduced Mr. LaTournay to the officers. Mr. LaTournay was one of few men present tall enough to look General Washington in the eye while gripping his hand. The two men seemed to take each other's measure, and Georgette recognized reserved approval on both sides. Mr. LaTournay was invited to join the group of dignitaries for a short reception at the nearby home of Lester Lispenard, a local brewer, but he graciously declined.

While the New York crowd waited for the parade to begin, Georgette and Mr. LaTournay wandered off a short distance and found a shady tree. Mr. LaTournay again shook out the picnic quilt and laid it upon the grass. Georgette flopped down too quickly to be graceful, dropped her parasol, and leaned her back against the tree trunk. Caramel watched the proceedings from his makeshift bed inside the empty picnic basket. He was a solid little dog, but Mr. LaTournay did not seem to mind carrying him.

“My father often speaks of your connections and influence, yet I remained ignorant of your true importance to this colony,” Georgette said. Mr. LaTournay's apparent support for these traitors puzzled her.

“The importance of any farmer or merchant lies mainly in the commerce he undertakes. Do you mind if I remove my coat?”

Observing the sweat trickling down his face into his beard, she took pity. “No sir.” She would have liked to remove her shoes. Mr. LaTournay laid his coat on the quilt and ran a finger beneath his cravat. “You may remove that also if you wish,” Georgette said.

He whipped off the tie and opened his shirt at the neck. “Much better.” He lay back on the quilt, folding his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles.

Georgette tried not to notice the wet patches on his waistcoat and shirt—or the flat expanse of his stomach. “I do not understand whether New York remains faithful to England or intends to join the rebellion.”

He squinted at the sky through his lashes. “I wish I could tell you what New York will do, but I cannot read the future. God alone knows what will come.”

More questions swirled through Georgette's mind, but she could not find words or courage to phrase them. Caramel snored in the basket. A louder snore informed her that Mr. LaTournay slept. Georgette leaned over to examine him. A pulse beat in his throat, revealed by his open collar. Her hands ached to touch him.

The flood of passion his proximity stirred had become familiar to Georgette, but this new camaraderie she felt for him took her by surprise. Could a husband be a friend? She enjoyed talking with him, being with him—and not always with romance in view.

Politics never concerned her in the past, yet recently she found the subject intriguing, no doubt due to Mr. LaTournay's influence. He seemed to hold himself aloof, as a dispassionate observer above the fray of political affairs.

Georgette felt confidence in his leadership. Although, now that she thought of it, she had no clear idea in which direction he intended to lead. Of course, Mr. LaTournay would never participate in treasonous acts. Of that much she felt certain. Perhaps his intent today was to become aware of the enemy's strengths and weaknesses through observation.

Noticing something, she peered closer. On the shaved skin at one side of his neck, what appeared to be a scar ran diagonally toward his chin, disappearing into the thick beard. The skin around it was slightly puckered. How had he acquired such a wound? Georgette would have liked to part his beard and see how far the scar extended. The thought of him sustaining painful injury caused her to frown.

Had they not been within easy sight of dozens of people, she might have been tempted to kiss him. How would he react? Her imaginings brought a wave of heat to her face.

Folding her arms over her middle, Georgette lay back against the tree and closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, a warm hand cupped her cheek. “Wake up, Georgette. The parade is about to begin.”

She stirred and sat up abruptly. “What time is it?”

“An hour has passed while we dozed. Several additional militia companies have arrived.” Mr. LaTournay was already wearing his coat and cravat, looking almost as neat and composed as ever. Caramel rambled about amid nearby shrubs, sniffing fascinating scents.

Georgette was still blinking sleepily when Mr. LaTournay took her hands and pulled her to her feet. She helped him fold the quilt and stash it into the basket. “Ready?” he asked as soon as she had settled her parasol over one shoulder. He plopped Caramel into the basket atop the quilt, and this time, instead of offering his arm, he reached out a hand. Despite her sweaty palms, Georgette clasped his hand and followed him back to the Lispenard mansion.

When they arrived, the parade was forming ranks. Mr. LaTournay gave Georgette a running commentary as it passed them. After the militia companies came the New York dignitaries, followed by the three Continental generals and their staffs. An honorary escort of Philadelphia's light horse came next, and the noisy crowd of New Yorkers fell in behind. Georgette found herself cheering for General Washington and the proud men in uniform, although she could not have told why. Perhaps the quiet dignity of Washington influenced her emotions—he was an awe-inspiring figure upon his prancing horse. And Mr. LaTournay seemed to respect him.

They followed the parade south along the riverbank into town, back to the common, and down Broadway. More people gathered to cheer as the parade passed. Georgette gripped Mr. LaTournay's hand, waving her folded parasol in the air. “I shall be quite hoarse and sunburned by the end of the day,” she confessed laughingly. “The governor, whenever he arrives, will receive no cheering from me, I sadly fear.”

The day was still warm, although evening approached. Long shadows of trees and buildings striped the road. Disheveled, sweaty, and happy, Georgette shouted to make herself heard. “This is like a holiday!”

Mr. LaTournay squeezed her hand and smiled. Pressed by people on all sides, Georgette nevertheless felt an emotional connection with him as though they were alone. The crowds provided opportunity to jostle against him without appearing obviously brazen.

“LaTournay!” A man elbowed his way through the throngs, waving and hollering. “What are you doing in this mélange?”

The L
ORD
lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground.

P
SALM
147:6

L
es Pringle gripped Mr. LaTournay and Georgette each by the shoulder and halted them in the middle of the boulevard. “Miss Grenville is waiting just over there. She spotted Miss Talbot's parasol, though I didn't believe her at first. Come out of this farcical parade and join us! The governor delayed his arrival out of pure politeness; he lands at eight o'clock. We've plenty of time to get over to the slip and greet him.”

People bumped Georgette in passing, and one man shouted for them to stop blocking the way. Still, she was surprised when Mr. LaTournay followed Mr. Pringle's orders and shepherded her to the east side of the road.

Marianne greeted her with a hug. “Gigi! We looked for you two all over town and began to think you decided not to come. You're wearing your green sprig—I adore that gown!” She greeted Mr. LaTournay, saw the dog in his basket and wrinkled her nose in distaste, but made no comment. “What happened to you two? However did you get caught up in that pandemonium? We saw those uniformed men posing as officers. Is it not disgraceful? Mr. Pringle and I decided they are all decidedly gauche—especially the gaunt fellow with the pack of dogs following his horse.”

“That would be General Charles Lee, late of His Majesty's army,” Mr. LaTournay said.

Mr. Pringle spat on the ground. “His Majesty is well rid of the scoundrel.”

“I think General Washington is a magnificent man,” Georgette said. “I do not say that I think he is behaving wisely, but—”

“General? He is naught but Mr. Washington, and never forget it,” Mr. Pringle interrupted. “Come to Fraunces' Tavern with us for supper and a drink.” He gripped each of the young women by the arm. “Miss Grenville's parents have given their permission. I cannot imagine Miss Talbot's parents objecting.”

Although Mr. Pringle maintained eye contact with Marianne, Georgette felt his thumb caressing her wrist. She pulled out of his grasp and linked hands with Mr. LaTournay again, gripping his arm for extra protection. Had her fiancé noticed? His bland expression told her nothing.

Mr. LaTournay bent to speak into her ear. “Washington's parade is nearly over anyway. Are you hungry?”

“Not hungry, but very thirsty,” she admitted. “We must take Caramel home.” Georgette felt somewhat guilty about her disinterest in Marianne's company, but she would have preferred to spend the remainder of the day alone with Mr. LaTournay.

He turned to the others. “We shall join you. Thank you for the invitation. First, if you will pardon the delay, I need to leave this basket at my boardinghouse. We shall take the dog home after our meal.”

Mr. LaTournay's boardinghouse was located on Broadway near Trinity Church. Georgette followed Mr. Pringle and Marianne into the parlor and seated herself on a worn chair. Caramel curled up on her lap. Georgette wondered why a man of LaTournay's wealth and reputation would choose this particular boardinghouse. It seemed clean and genteel but far from luxurious. The parlor rug showed evidence of wear.

Mr. Pringle and Marianne conversed in low tones across the room, ignoring her. Marianne seemed to lose her good sense and manners in that man's presence.

The landlady popped in and straightened a vase of flowers, all the while studying Mr. LaTournay's guests. “He's never brought people here before,” she said to Georgette as if excusing her curiosity. “I always wondered if he had any friends besides his servant. He seems such a good man. 'Tis a pleasure to know he's found a fine lady to wife.”