Sons of Liberty (41 page)

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Authors: Christopher G. Nuttall

Tags: #Adventure, #Historical, #Historical Fantasy

BOOK: Sons of Liberty
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One wins if one deserves to win,” Bruce added. “And maybe the others didn’t deserve to win.”


Or maybe you just got unlucky,” Gwen said. She’d read the history books, including Master Thomas’s unpublished memoirs. General Howe had been a ditherer, either no general or desperately hoping that a peaceful settlement could be worked out. Who knew what would have happened if London hadn't been constantly urging him to keep moving? “You never had the chance to recover from your mistakes.”


And let us hope that this isn't a mistake,” Bruce said. “I ...”

He broke off as a messenger came into view. “Lady Gwen, Colonel Jackson requests your presence in his office,” the messenger said. “Your Excellency, he would also like to see you.”


I’m sure he would,” Bruce said, wryly. “And do you want to bet he isn’t in the office?”

Gwen rolled her eyes as the messenger turned and hurried back down the corridor, then led the way towards Jackson’s office. The Colonel had managed to get back quick, she noted; someone must have sent an urgent message. Unless, of course, he didn't know what had happened outside City Hall. He might have been on his way back already.


Lady Gwen,” Jackson said, as they stepped into his office. “We’ve had a message from New York. You and Master Bruce are to return at once.”

Gwen frowned. “I thought the rail line was broken.”


It is,” Jackson confirmed. “You’ll be riding on horseback to Ashley Bridge, where a train will be waiting for you. I assume you’ll have no trouble carrying Master Bruce over the river?”


None,” Gwen confirmed. The Viceroy had summoned his son home too? Did he know more than Gwen thought? Or was he just keen to get his son back to New York? “When do you want us to depart?”


Now,” Jackson said. “The message insisted you were to leave at once.”

Bruce coughed. “Colonel, Lady Gwen was just in a battle,” he said. “She hasn't had time to sleep!”


The orders are clear,” Jackson said. He didn't sound pleased, Gwen noted. “Even with a single coach, Your Excellency, it's going to take at least five days to reach New York. You will both have plenty of time to sleep.”

Unless we get attacked, Gwen thought. She was already dreading the ride. Or if something else happens along the way.

She cleared her throat. “Very well, Colonel,” she said. “I’ll have to take some of my clothes out of a trunk and dump them into a bag, but that shouldn't take long.”


I’ll have the horses ready for you in an hour,” Jackson said. “I assume you can ride?”

Gwen blinked in surprise, then understood. Jackson was insulting Bruce, subtly. It was rare, very rare, to encounter an aristocrat who couldn’t ride, but Bruce’s public persona might not be able to ride. Hell, if he had the same problems with horses as she had, he might well prefer to avoid riding where possible ...


It shouldn't be too hard, Colonel,” Bruce drawled. “How are we to return the horses to you?”


The engineers will take them,” Jackson said. He didn't show any visible reaction to Bruce’s tone, but Gwen could sense his irritation. “I’ll see you both back in New York.”

Gwen nodded, fighting down the urge to break into giggles. Jackson wouldn't be pleased when he found out the truth, and he would. She hated to think about what would happen then ... but Jackson wasn’t the worst problem. What would the Viceroy do when he learned about his son’s secret life? Children had been disowned, cut out of their families, for far lesser crimes.


Thank you, Colonel,” she said, instead. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“What we need,” Bruce called to her, “is an airship.”

Gwen couldn't disagree. The horse was galloping full-tilt, as if it were trying to get away from the sorceress mounted on its back. Beside her, Bruce seemed to be having similar problems in keeping his mount under control, even though he was keeping his powers under tight restraint.


An airship would be burned out of the sky the moment it got near a Blazer,” she said, as they approached the river. The bridge, a piece of magnificent engineering, was torn and broken, pieces of stone and metal sticking up out of the water. On the far side, she could see a team of Royal Engineers hastily establishing a pontoon bridge. “And there aren’t any in America.”


Hamish used to say we could build them for ourselves,” Bruce said. He slowed to a canter, then came to a halt. “It wouldn't be too hard.”

Gwen gave him a sharp look. America was vast, easily large enough to hide a secret airship construction facility. It wouldn't be hard to hide the airships themselves too, as long as they stayed beyond the line. Anyone who saw the craft might blame them on the French.

“And did you?”


Not yet,” Bruce said. “One of the engineers had a theory about a flying machine that didn't need a giant airbag to fly. He was going to experiment with it after the war.”


He'll have his chance,” Gwen said. A handful of soldiers appeared on the nearside of the bridge, watching them carefully. She pulled the horse to a halt, then slipped down to the ground. “Better let me do the talking.”


Lady Gwen,” the leader said. “The train’s on the far side.”


I understand,” Gwen said. She passed the reins to the soldier with considerable relief, then watched as Bruce joined her. “Make sure the horses get back to Amherst.”

“Yes, My Lady,” the leader said.

Gwen suspected Bruce wanted to fly under his own power, but they were being watched by too many eyes. She levitated them both over the river - it was easily wide enough to accommodate a few barges, if they could be steered up from the sea - and landed neatly on the far side. The train - a single locomotive connected to a passenger coach - was already steaming, indicating that the driver and fireman had started preparations as soon as they came into view. Gwen scrambled up into the cabin, dropped her bag in one of the bedrooms and then hurried into the dining compartment. Behind her, Bruce did the same.


I forgot to buy a ticket,” he said, as he sat down. “Do you think they’ll kick us off the train?”


Oh, probably,” Gwen said, wryly. “Fare dodging isn't a harmless little prank, you know.”

She smiled, rather tiredly, as the train began to move. It had been a very long day.


I suppose not,” Bruce agreed. He glanced from side to side. “Can we talk freely?”

Gwen closed her eyes, reaching out with her senses. “I don’t think we’ve being watched,” she said, after a moment. It struck her, suddenly, that they were alone in the coach. People would comment, if they knew. “And we do need to talk.”

Bruce nodded, slowly. “I didn't ask for orders,” he said, his voice suddenly very serious. “I made the decision to intervene on my own.”


I see,” Gwen said, slowly. “What will the Sons say?”


That rather depends on what happens,” Bruce said. The train lurched suddenly, then started to pick up speed. “If we get what we want, I dare say everyone will be pleased; if we don’t, they’ll be very angry with me.”


Because the original plan was to work with the French,” Gwen said. “Right?”

Bruce didn't bother to deny it. “Drowning men will clutch at any straws,” he said. “And we were drowning.”

“Not any longer,” Gwen said.


No, but that depends on London,” Bruce said. He let out a long breath. “It was decided, when I took your words to the others, that we should wait and see what my father had to say before we committed ourselves. What I did will upset a great many of my allies.”


Even though the battle was won,” Gwen said. She leaned back in her chair, fighting back a sudden wave of exhaustion. “They’re not going to be happy.”


It depends, like I said,” Bruce said. “But you’re right. They’re not going to be happy.”

Gwen met his eyes. “Why did you take the chance?”

Bruce looked embarrassed. “Because of you,” he said. “The first time we met ... I’d never met anyone like you before. The girls I met at my father’s balls were boring, interested only in marriage. I didn't want to be tied down like that, Gwen. And then I saw you fighting for your life and I felt ... something. I jumped into the fight before I could think better of it.”

“Did our magic pull us together,” Gwen asked, “or was it something else?”


I don’t know,” Bruce said. “I like you. I ... enjoyed ... what we did together. And yet, I don’t know if we could spend a lifetime together.”

Gwen touched her stomach, lightly. “We might have to.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. “Are you ...?”


I don’t know, yet,” Gwen said. “The gentleman” - she saw him blush at the reference to her periods - “has not yet made his visit. If he doesn't show in a month or two, we may have a problem.”


My father is going to kill me,” Bruce said. “Getting a young woman into trouble ...”

He cleared his throat. “I will marry you,” he said. “If you’re pregnant, we can have a hasty wedding.”

Gwen found herself torn between relief and horror. If she was pregnant, she needed to get married quickly, before the pregnancy started to show. And there was no doubt over who had fathered the child. She didn't want to have to raise a child alone, or force someone else to serve as the father. And yet, his casual assumption that he would marry her grated. She hadn't spent the last year as the Royal Sorceress to give up her freedom so easily.

But there might be someone else to think of, she thought, wanly. The child.


I don’t know, not yet,” she said. She would need to make some explanation to her parents, even though she was technically emancipated. Her father would explode with rage; her mother might be more understanding, but it wasn't something she could say in public. “The wedding might have to be organised very quickly.”

Bruce frowned. “There’s no way to check?”


Not for some time,” Gwen said. A Healer might be able to check, but she wasn't sure how long it took before her condition became obvious. “I don’t know.”


It was my fault,” Bruce said. “I should never have kissed you.”


I could have pushed you away,” Gwen said. It was true. She could have shoved him back, but she hadn't. “Bruce ...”

Bruce leaned forward. “Whatever happens,” he said, “we’ll face it together.”

Gwen felt an odd warmth spreading through her body. She feared abandonment - or worse, the loss of her reputation and the stigma of being a single mother. Even if she wasn't pregnant, she might well lose everything if Bruce talked or if her future husband discovered she wasn't a virgin on their wedding night. But Bruce talked about staying with her, supporting her ... she couldn't help responding to that.


You’re the Royal Sorceress,” Bruce added. “I don’t think they can just dump you, can they?”


I’m not sure,” Gwen said. “They might want to put you in my place.”

Bruce lifted his eyebrows. “Even though I’m - horror of horrors - American?”


Half-American,” Gwen said. She stuck out her tongue. “But I suppose being a Son would be enough to put anyone off giving you the job.”


I don’t want the job,” Bruce said. “Too much paperwork, I think.”

Gwen nodded, curtly. “But it’s quite rewarding too,” she admitted. Bruce, at least, would have no trouble leading men into battle. “The Royal Sorcerers Corps could use you.”


But only if America gets its parliament,” Bruce said, firmly. “I don't know what will happen if my father goes back on his word.”

“They’ll rebel,” Gwen guessed.


Probably,” Bruce said. “And damn me for a traitor, while they’re at it.”

Gwen yawned. “I need to sleep,” she said. She rose. She’d snatched a bite to eat before they’d left Amherst, but she still felt hungry. “Can you ask them to hold dinner until I wake?”


I need sleep too,” Bruce said. He rose, too. “And there are other things we can do.”

He kissed her, gently. Gwen felt her tired body responding to him, demanding more and more; his hands started to stroke her back, reaching down to her trousers ...


Not too far,” she said, pushing him back. She didn't mind kissing - and perhaps a few other things - but she wasn't ready to have sex with him again. “If I’m not pregnant, I don’t want to take the risk, not yet.”

She'd heard - from Lucy - that some men could get very nasty if they were rejected, but Bruce merely nodded. They kissed again, deeply, before she turned and stepped into her bedroom, feeling her lips tingling at the memory of his touch. She closed the door behind her, then stumbled into bed. Sleep claimed her almost at once.


You have so many talents I don't have,” Bruce commented, the following morning. He’d let her sleep all night, then taken some rations from the train crew. “I could never get the hang of Changing or Infusing.”


I’m not that good with either of them,” Gwen admitted, picking at her food. The rations weren't very good, but they were edible and that was all she cared about. “Changing something isn't easy, not without a very good grasp on one’s power.”


I didn't have a tutor,” Bruce said. “And Charming never worked for me.”

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