Sup with the Devil

Table of Contents

 

 

“Intriguing . . . Rich in period detail . . . A successful novel appealing to those who enjoy Revolutionary War historical mystery.”

—
Historical Novels Review

 

“The story line is fast paced and the investigation super, but it is meeting the prime real persona and fictional characters representing the divided times in Boston in 1774 that makes
A Marked Man
a strong late-eighteenth-century thriller.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“Hamilton breathes vivid life into her historical characters . . . A satisfying read for mystery lovers and American history buffs alike.”

—
Kirkus Reviews

 

“Well crafted . . . Hamilton once again brings to life colonial Boston on the brink of revolution, vividly portraying such noted patriots as Sam Adams, leader of the Sons of Liberty; silversmith Paul Revere; and Dr. Joseph Warren.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“An exciting new mystery series set in revolutionary Boston. Abigail Adams could become my favorite historical sleuth.”

—Sharon Kay Penman, author of
Devil’s Brood

 

“Barbara Hamilton plunges us into colonial Boston, where we walk beside the legendary Abigail Adams as she tries to find justice for a murdered young woman while also helping with the birthing pangs of a new nation.”

—Victoria Thompson, author of
Murder on Sisters’ Row

 

“[An] exceptional debut . . . While bringing to life such historical figures as Sam Adams and Paul Revere, Hamilton transports the reader to another time and place with close attention to matters like dress, menus, and the monumental task of doing laundry. Historical fans will eagerly look forward to the next in this promising series.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

“Hamilton . . . has just the right touch to guide the intelligent Abigail through the dangerous shoals of being a patriot while seeing the good side of the colonies’ English rulers. There are no missteps here in what should prove to be a captivating series for all historical fans.”

—
Library Journal

 

“The wry repartee between Abigail and John, together with the fact that this clandestine investigation of the murder of loose women would never have made the official record, make Hamilton’s debut believable and gripping.”

—
Kirkus Reviews

“A deep historical mystery. Based on true activities of that time, Ms. Hamilton weaves a tale that could have actually taken place . . . A finely written first in a new series story with a surprise ending. I am eager to see what comes next.”

—
The Romance Readers Connection

 

“A super Revolutionary War–era . . . amateur sleuth.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“The story line provides a deep look at Boston as rebellion is in the air. Fans will want to join the tea party hosted by Ms. Hamilton with guests being a who’s who of colonial Massachusetts.”

—
The Mystery Gazette

 

THE NINTH DAUGHTER
A MARKED MAN
SUP WITH THE DEVIL

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand

(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2011 by Moon Horse, Inc.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

BERKLEY
^®
PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

 

Hamilton, Barbara, 1951–

ISBN : 978-1-101-54507-2

1. Adams, Abigail, 1744–1818—Fiction. 2. Murder—Investigation—Fiction.

3. Massachusetts—History—Colonialperiod,ca.1600–1775—Fiction. I. Title. PS3558.A4215S87 2011

813’.54—dc22

2011006678

 

 

 

 

Propriety indeed.
Abigail Adams, perched on the back of Uzziah Begbie’s delivery wagon as it jolted its way along the extremely narrow streets of Boston’s North End, reread her nephew’s letter with mixed amusement and exasperation.
You’d think the boy was forty instead of barely seventeen.

You’d think
I
was a sixteen-year-old village maid instead of a woman of twenty-nine with a husband
—off at the Maine Assizes or not—
and four children.

On second thought
, reflected Abigail, tucking the letter back into her smallest marketing basket,
considering some of my neighbors
. . .

In addition to Horace’s letter, which had arrived late yesterday afternoon, the basket was stocked with apples, carrots, corn-bread (wheaten flour of any kind gave Horace migraines), a small crock of honey, and ten hard-boiled eggs, and rested beside her on the narrow bench that served as a wagon-seat. On her other side, the carter Uzziah Begbie clucked to his horse as the wagon made its careful way among the carts and barrows that cluttered the cobblestones of Prince’s Street. To their right loomed the piled-up rooflines of Copp’s Hill, a maze of steep alleyways and small yards; to their left, through a break in the roof-lines, Abigail could glimpse the placid green water of the Mill Pond. Wind from the river flicked her face, caught a strand of her black hair that had escaped her neat white cap. She smoothed it primly into its place again. Were she on the farm in Braintree, she reflected—the land that her “esteemed husband” (as Horace Thaxter described him) and his family had farmed for three generations—she would have pulled her cap off altogether, run to the top of Prospect Hill to let the wind of the bay have its way with her hair . . . would have revelled in the sweetness of May after so harsh and unsettling a winter.

But this was Boston, and people did talk.

Indeed, as they rounded the last of the brick and timber houses and came to Gee’s Shipyard on the rocky nose of North Boston, people were doing nothing but talking. The boundaries of the street itself dissolved into a roughly defined apron of gravel and mud around the end of the hill, beyond which lay the hard blackish sapphire waters of the bay. Sailors, roustabouts, stevedores, and the lady who sold hot pies stood in knots among the piled timber and coiled cables, gesturing out toward the British warship that patrolled the bay and half shouting over the clattering symphony of shipyard hammers.