“What can’t you do, sir?”
“Woman,” he pleaded. “Do not call me sir. Not now.”
I swallowed the “yessir” that bubbled on my tongue.
“I will not put you on your back and plow you like a camp trollop,” he vowed, his voice almost inaudible. “That is what I will not do.” He was trying to shock me and to chastise us both, and for a moment it worked.
“There are camp trollops?” I asked.
“There are. You have not been involved in the type of engagements that would allow for it. The march to Yorktown was too fast. And you are light infantry, who lead the army. The trollops trail behind. I am actually worried about what will happen to them when all of this ends. It’s gone on so long that it’s become a way of life. Some of them have children that are now six and seven years old. They trail the army too. They have nothing to go back to.”
“Just like me,” I whispered. “I suppose I am already a camp trollop.”
“Don’t say that.”
We were quiet for a time, but neither of us slept.
“Did you . . . ever have need of their services?” I asked.
“Need? Yes. Partake? No. I would not do that to Elizabeth.”
Guilt swelled and my conscience was pricked. “John?”
“Yes?” He sounded pleased that I had used his name.
“What would Elizabeth think . . . of us?”
“Ah, Samson. Are you fretting over that?”
“Yes, sir,” I confessed.
It was a moment before he said anything more, and when he did his voice was thoughtful and the tension in him had eased.
“Of all the things I torture myself over, that is not one of them. I have not betrayed Elizabeth and neither have you. Elizabeth would approve. She adored you.”
“She adored you. I think I loved you long ago, simply because she did. Her love was in every line and mention, in every letter.”
He did not agree nor argue, but simply waited for me to continue.
“But what if she had not died? What if she were here?” I asked.
“She isn’t.” His voice was gentle. “And she never will be again. Nothing we do—or don’t do—will bring her back.”
I pondered that truth so long, I thought he might have drifted off.
“I should not love you like this, should I?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“I loved Sylvanus. I loved him dearly. And I loved Deacon Thomas, though I didn’t always like him. I loved Nat and Phineas and Jeremiah. I loved—love—them all. I loved them in different amounts. Small piles and great piles. I do not love you the same way. This feeling is new. It is a mountain, and it has fallen on me. I didn’t know it would feel this way to love.”
“It doesn’t,” he whispered. “God forgive me, but it usually doesn’t.”
I was not repulsed by the general’s talk of camp trollops.
I was bewitched.
That he’d used such vulgarity to describe the act probably should have dampened my romantic feelings. I knew it was what he’d intended. Instead, I was strangely affected by it. To be desired in such a way was something I’d never envisioned for myself. And for the general to want me—a man that I loved so desperately—felt miraculous. I could think of nothing else.
The next night, the general walked and I quaked, waiting for him to return. When the flaps parted long after the camp grew quiet, I rose and met him at the door, desperate to touch him and afraid he would leave again as soon as I did.
“You’re still awake,” he accused.
“Yes, sir—yes, John.”
His chin hit his chest, but he reached for my hand as though he couldn’t help himself.
“I want to kiss you again,” I whispered, shameless in the darkness.
“I want to kiss you again too. I want to do a great deal more than that. Which is why I can’t start.”
“You can,” I said. “I mean . . . I want you to.”
“Deborah.”
“I am not . . . physically . . . very w-womanly,” I stammered. “Does that bother you?”
His grunt was almost a laugh. “I think my body knew you were female, even before I did.”
I gasped. “Truly?”
“I have been surrounded by men of all shapes, sizes, and comeliness . . . or lack of. Not once has my flesh taken notice of the lot of them. But I noticed you. I thought it odd, and it made me look again to determine why.” He shook his head, sheepish. “I have been cold. Hungry. So sleep-deprived I could have closed my eyes and dozed on my feet. But not once has a man made my body twitch. You didn’t fool me for very long, I just didn’t care to admit it. My body knew even when my mind refused to accept it.”