“When was this? Immediately after?” Nathaniel asked.
William looked between them, knowing exactly to what “after” Nathaniel referred. The battle in the woods, the frantic flight to safety…
He lowered his voice. “Three days ago. After you and Kitty escaped, I returned to camp as planned. Stockton believed my story. Most of it…” He cringed at the memory then grunted as Nathaniel prodded at the wound on his arm. “But his son did not, insisting that this was not the first time I had sided with the colonists.”
Though such was true, no evidence could prove it.
Thomas leaned his shoulder against the fireplace. “His son?”
William nodded. “Ezra has a son, Paul, and his company joined our camp the next morning. He convinced his father I had planned Kitty’s escape. I was able to send word to Higley about your plight that morning, but only hours later I was on my way to trial in New York. I then constructed an escape of my own—have mercy!” He half-scowled, half-chuckled at Nathaniel. “Are you trying to torture me?”
Nathaniel’s expression held little amusement. “This wound is greatly infected.”
William ground his teeth. “Can it be healed?”
“The tear, yes. The infection, I believe so, with care.”
“No stitches?”
“Nay. With proper wrapping I expect it will heal well.” Nathaniel reached for additional bandages in his bag. “What will you do now?”
Rubbing his head, William exhaled. “In truth, I have thought of little beyond coming here.”
“You did right in coming,” Thomas said. “You may stay as long as needed.”
“I cannot do that.” William kept speaking as Nathaniel rubbed an ointment around his wound and wrapped it anew. “I have already placed you in considerable harm. I must leave by morning.”
Nathaniel and Thomas exchanged looks.
Still leaning beside the fireplace, Thomas put his hands in his pockets. “If you truly wish to defect, you must assimilate somewhere. Why not here?”
The pointed question struck William as if it were a blow to the head. “You are not serious.”
Nathaniel tied the bandage in place. “Do you know any other people so foolish as to stick their necks out for you?”
“I cannot live here.” A weak chuckle leaked out through his words. “You know what kind of suspicion that would cause. I have been in town before, so I could be recognized. Besides, if you have regulars here…I can’t take that risk.”
Again, Thomas and Nathaniel eyed each other.
Thomas looked toward the kitchen, the soft voices of the women not quite reaching beyond the open doorway. He lowered his tone. “You could convert. The local Quaker population is high, and many wish to stay out of the conflict. If you did the same, perhaps we could find you a place—”
“I cannot ignore this fight, Thomas. I’m a soldier. I’ve simply been fighting for the wrong side.”
Nathaniel stood and began replacing the shears and unused bandages back in his bag. “’Twould be foolish to think you could hide somewhere else.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table, his gaze narrowing. “Kitty has worried over you.”
William examined the fresh bandage and relished in the soothing sensation from the ointment that coated his wound. “As I have worried over the two of you. But now that you have joined your lives, I supposed I need worry no longer.”
Nathaniel chewed the inside of his lip. “You know, William, if a man remains a bachelor for too long he runs the risk of being a menace to society.” He stopped almost before he’d finished his words and narrowed his eyes. “How do you feel about marriage?”
The last word blasted like an icy wind, freezing him where he sat. “I am afraid I don’t understand.” Though he did. Fully.
Again, Nathaniel and Thomas exchanged a glance. Thomas tilted his head and Nathaniel nodded.
William lowered his voice breathing a threat through his teeth. “Speak aloud or I leave this instant.”
Nathaniel ignored him, directing his communications to Thomas. “You heard the Atticks family passed.”
Thomas shook his head, his expression falling. “All of them?”