Revolution in Time (Out of Time #10) (27 page)

“Ah,” Simon said, “but it is not your eyes that I am worried about, Doctor.”

Franklin chuckled as Lady Pawluk took Simon’s arm, leading him toward the dance floor.
 

“Tell me, Sir Simon, do you ride? Horses are my life. Do you know Count Orlov? He’s a breeder, you know. His trotter is a fine horse. He’s making a chicken next, I hear. Can you imagine?”

Elizabeth watched with amusement as Simon was led away.

Franklin chuckled. “She does love her horses. Perhaps more than most people which, having met many people, is not necessarily a poor decision.”

He patted the seat next to him, and she joined him on the settee. “She’s a fine woman, really. Married a Count from Galicia and Lodomeria.”

Elizabeth had heard of lots of places, but not that place. It sounded like something out of a Terry Brooks novel. “Lodomeria?”

Franklin smiled in understanding. “I believe that is what it is called this week. Polish one day, Hungarian the next. Such is our modern world—go to sleep one nationality and wake up another.”

“One day British, American the next?” she said.

He grinned broadly and clasped her hand. “Precisely.”

She spent the next twenty minutes enjoying both Franklin’s company and watching Simon on the dance floor. Finally, her husband extricated himself from the ladies. He found his way back to them and asked Elizabeth to dance.

Reluctantly, Franklin let her go.

“Give her a good twirl for me,” he said as they joined the dancers.

Elizabeth laughed, but Simon didn’t. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but the music started and she suddenly realized she had no idea what to do. She’d never danced a cotillion before.

Happily, it wasn’t that hard. She was usually half a step behind but, if she watched the women opposite her, she caught on quickly enough. Four couples formed a square and moved delicately in pairs, groups, or in a circle.
 

She and Simon could only talk when the dance brought them together, and even then, only in quick bursts.
 

“What’s wrong?” she asked when they were finally paired.

“We have a problem,” he said.
 

“I can see—”

The music pulled them apart again, and she smiled at her new partner. What she wouldn’t give for a good old-fashioned waltz right about now.

Finally, they were back together. “What is it?”

“Scott.”

“The man who recommends Paine?”

“He was seriously injured in an
accident
the first night we were here,” Simon said, making it clear he didn’t think it was any accident.

They danced apart again, and Elizabeth put the pieces together. They’d seen him with Paine that night at Vauxhall Gardens. When they’d followed Paine, Phillips had probably followed Scott. If he couldn’t eliminate Paine, he could eliminate the man who would introduce him to Franklin.

“Well, that’s not good,” Elizabeth said as Simon took her hand and they briefly promenaded.

“How are we going to get Franklin to recommend him?”

Elizabeth frowned and looked over at Franklin. He looked up and smiled at her.
 

She smiled back. “I might have an idea.”

After the dance, Elizabeth made her way to Franklin’s side.
 

“May I join you?”

He gestured to the seat next to him and watched the dancers with envy. “Oh, to be able to dance again,” he said with a sigh. He turned to her. “I was quite nimble in my youth.”

She had no doubt of it. Even at seventy, he had more energy than most. They sat in companionable silence for a moment before she broached the subject of Paine.

“What do you think of Thomas Paine?”

“Hmm?”

She nodded toward Paine, who still sat alone in his chair brooding.

“Bright,” Franklin said. “But a little dull. Certainly too dull for you.”

“Not everyone is as electric as you are, Doctor.”

He laughed. “No, very good.”

“It is not for me I look to make a match, but for America. I do think there is more to him than meets the eye,” she said, enjoying the formal repartee. When in Rome ….

“He has ideas, Doctor,” she continued, “and he is not afraid to use them.”

Franklin smiled, intrigued. “I have read some of his work: strident and annoying. Goodness knows I get enough of that from John Adams, but there is something to what you say.”

She knew she was onto something. “Here, he’s as wasted as you are needed.”

“You flatter me.”

She leaned in. “I do, but it is deserved. And I believe, in his turn, Paine deserves more than a life wasted at the excise office. My husband and I would like to sponsor him, in America.”

“Very generous.”

“But we have few connections, and you many. A letter from you would open doors that otherwise would remain shut.”

His brow knit as he considered her words and Paine.

She leaned back in her seat. “We both want to fan the flames of liberty, do we not, Doctor?”

He nodded thoughtfully. She looked toward Paine. “There sits a tinderbox and you, sir, hold in your hands the flame.”

S
EPTEMBER
30, 1774 - L
ONDON
, England

“Are you sure?” Paine asked as he looked at the terraced house across the street, uncharacteristically nervous.

Simon nodded. “Quite. It’s all been arranged. Franklin’s letter will get you employment in America. In a few months, when we’ve taken care of a few things, our offer will still be open to you.”
 

Elizabeth glanced at Paine. “But somehow, I don’t think you’ll need it.”

He dipped his head. “Thank you.”

“It has been our great pleasure to meet you, Mister Paine,” Simon said and held out his hand.

Paine shook it. “You have been most kind.”

Elizabeth held out an envelope. “Your ticket. The
London Packet
sails in two days.”

He took the envelope and tucked it into his breast pocket. He met Elizabeth’s eyes and, for the first time since they’d met, he smiled at her.
 

“Godspeed.”

With one final tip of his hat, Thomas Paine hurried across the London traffic and rang the bell at 36 Craven Street. After a moment the door opened. The butler was soon joined by Franklin himself. Paine said something and they both looked back across the street toward Simon and Elizabeth and waved.

 
Elizabeth caught a little wink from Franklin and laughed quietly to herself as the two men went inside.

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Just what did you say to Franklin?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Simon laughed. “Actually, I would.”

“It wasn’t hard to convince him. He already knew about Paine; they’d met several times. He didn’t like the man much, but he knew there was something special about him. All I did was nudge.”

Simon smiled. “Is that all?”

It was Elizabeth’s turn to laugh. She took his arm, and they started to walk down the street. “A lady never tells.”

Simon shook his head but held her closer.

They’d done their part and with hours to spare. All that was left now was to wait for the key to take them home.

~~~

December 7, 1777 - Passy, France

Victor pushed in the last of Quincy’s petticoats and closed the door to the armoire.
 

Travers turned away from the window and frowned, but only slightly.
 

“Can she breathe in there?” he asked.

“Enough.”

 
He joined Travers by the window, and together, the two of them watched as, in the driveway below, Franklin got into a gold-plated, royal carriage.

“You are sure this is it?” Victor asked.

Travers nodded. “He will meet with Vergennes and the heart of the alliance will be forged. They’ll sign the treaty in a few weeks and formally declare their allegiance and acknowledge the sovereignty of America. England will have no choice but to declare war on France. Spain will declare war on England as France’s ally and the little skirmish between thirteen small colonies will have escalated into a full-on world war.”

Victor sighed. “And that’s a good thing?”

Travers smiled sadly. “In this case, yes.”

Victor leaned back against the windowsill. “Well, what do we do now?”

Travers checked his watch. “Wait, I suppose.” He walked over to the table. “Do you play chess?”

Victor smiled. He did indeed.

~~~

December 26, 1776 - Trenton, New Jersey

By the time Jack made it to Trenton, the battle was over. It had barely lasted an hour and a half. It was a complete rout. The Hessian commander, Rall, had been mortally wounded, nearly a hundred others were wounded and two-thirds of the garrison captured. Only two Americans died and neither in the battle. They both died from exposure during the march.

The man who told him that didn’t know their names, and Jack hurried to find Teddy. He found him with Hamilton and the others at the top of a hill overlooking the town. Teddy stood at the base of a great oak staring down at the town as soldiers mopped up the last of the battle and cleared the final houses.

“Teddy?”

He didn’t respond and Jack felt a pinch of worry.

He walked around to stand next to him. “Are you okay?”

Teddy’s face held a sadness and confusion Jack would never forget. He’d seen it before—a man’s first taste of battle. Some wore the horror on their sleeves, some hid it, but all good men felt it.

Jack put his hand on Teddy’s shoulder. “It’s all right.”

Teddy pulled his eyes away from the scene below and looked at Jack finally. The ghost of a smile curved his lips. “I was worried about you.”

“Same here.” Jack looked around. “Looks to me like you did well enough.”

Teddy looked a little sick. “I wasn’t much help.”

He glanced down at the battlefield once more and then back to Jack. “I’d like to go home now.”

Jack nodded. He could use a warm bath and cold beer himself, but they had one thing left to do. “Soon. I’ve got Burgess tied up in the woods. We should get going.”

“You have the key?”

Jack patted his chest. “Safe and sound.”

Teddy managed a small smile and together they slipped away and back into the woods. It was a good twenty-minute walk to the spot where Jack had left Burgess. Neither had much to say. The last few days had taken nearly everything out of them.

They made their way through the cold dead woods as the storm above finally slowed.

“He’s just over—”

Jack stopped in his tracks and frowned. Burgess was gone.

Teddy was a few paces ahead of him now and turned back around to ask what was wrong.

Jack pointed to a large fallen tree. “He was right—”

Teddy started back toward him, pointing to his left. “Look out!”

Jack turned just in time to see Burgess lunging toward him. Teddy stepped between them and tried to stop Burgess’ approach.

It was a nice thought, but he was just in the way. Jack shoved him aside and then lowered his shoulder and tackled Burgess.

Burgess fell back onto the ground, hitting his head hard on a branch. Instantly, his body went limp, and his head lolled to the side.
 

Jack grunted and got to his knees. This guy was like a cat. How many lives did he have?

Jack shook his head and looked with disgust at the frayed edges of the rope he’d used to tie Burgess up still wrapped around the man’s wrist.

“That was too close for comfort,” he said and then saw it—a bit of pink in the snow. He reached for it, then drew back in surprise. It was a knife, and its blade was slick with blood. Fresh blood.

He felt his own grow cold as he turned around and saw Teddy—hands clamped to his stomach, face caught in surprise—just before he fell to his knees.

“No.”

Jack scrambled over to him and helped ease Teddy onto his back.
 

“No, no, no,” Jack whispered.

Teddy shivered and lifted his hands. His palms were drenched in blood. Teddy had taken the knife meant for him.

“Jack,” Teddy said, but Jack shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he said, fearing it wasn’t. Knife wounds to the stomach could kill a man in minutes.
 

“I gotcha.” But inside his heart pounded and his temples throbbed.

Teddy lay shaking on the ground.
 

Jack pulled out his handkerchief, and Teddy winced in pain as he pushed it onto the wound. He placed Teddy’s hands back onto his stomach. “Hold this as firmly as you can.”

He didn’t have much time. Reluctantly, he left Teddy’s side and dragged Burgess back toward him, so he could be touching him when the key took them. Although, right now he’d much rather just kill the bastard and be done with it. He glanced at Teddy and knew he couldn’t. Not in front of him.

He took off Burgess’ coat, and then bound his hands and feet as tightly as he could.

He eased Teddy up a little so he could slip Burgess’ coat under him and laid his own over him. He had to keep him as warm as he could.

“I got ya,” Jack assured Teddy again, kneeling over him. He took over pressing down the ad hoc bandage.

Teddy gasped in pain.

“I’m sorry.”

Teddy shivered. “It does hurt. He was right.”

“Who was?”

Teddy half-smiled through his pain. “Me.”

T
HE
WORLD
COALESCED
AROUND
them. Simon could feel Elizabeth’s hand in his, and little else mattered. They were back, safe and sound, in Teddy’s laboratory.

“You should get off of there,” Victor said, nodding his head toward the platform they were standing on. It was a relief to see him. Hopefully, their mission had gone as planned. “The others should arrive shortly.”

Simon and Elizabeth walked down the few steps to the concrete floor, and he noticed a woman, Quincy, in her nightclothes and robe bound and gagged in the corner of the room.

Travers peered behind them then pursed his lips. “Where’s Phillips?”