“My last aide slept here. The room has been aired and the bedding stripped. There’s a small window, a basin, and shelves and hooks, of course. It will be sufficient, I trust.”
He opened the panel, and I peeked around him, almost unable to believe my good fortune. The valet’s closet was bigger than the room I’d occupied at the Thomases’. An upholstered window seat in velvet blue stretched below a tall window, and a narrow berth was built into the wall below the shelves, a small table too, and judging from the cupboards from floor to ceiling, taking care of Master Moore’s wardrobe had been a full-time endeavor. General Paterson’s blue dress coat, two waistcoats, three shirts, and an extra pair of breeches looked very meager indeed.
“You can read and write and recite the declaration. You can barber. You can ride—”
“I do most things very well,” I interrupted. “And what I don’t know I will learn. Immediately.”
His brows rose and his mouth twitched. I didn’t blink. I wanted the job, and I knew I would not get such an opportunity again.
“Yes. As you’ve demonstrated.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Allen, the staff officer, will answer any questions you have about the house. He’s ill-humored, but efficient. I will inform Captain Webb that you will be relieved from his ranks until further notice.”
“You will?” I breathed.
“Yes. I will. I don’t think I demand much . . . but the less I have to think about small matters, the better. My uniforms. My boots. The order in my quarters and the running of errands. The tasks vary and will probably feel endless . . . and thankless.”
“I know what an aide does, sir. And I am honored to do it.”
“Good,” he clipped. “Mostly, I will need to be able to trust you. No gloating. No gossiping. No repeating what you see here or while you are at my side. Can I trust you, Shurtliff?”
My heart quaked and my belly flipped, but I nodded firmly, as curt as he. “Yes, sir, you can.” And he could. No one worked harder or kept a secret better than I. Being a woman would not prevent me from doing any of the things he required.
“Then gather your things from the barracks, and I will tell Mr. Allen that you are now on staff. He’ll be waiting for you to return.”
“Thank you, General.” My voice was steady, my gaze level, and he nodded once, dismissing me.
“Report back when you are settled,” he said.
He followed me from his quarters and returned to his office, and I walked down the hall, through the expansive foyer, and out of the Red House with calm and measured steps, though I felt like skipping. Racing. Sprinting through the woods, leaping shrubs, and dodging the trees like I’d done when I was small.
I made it halfway down the lane before I gave in and let myself fly, joyful, strong, and imbued with new hope.
15
THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
I didn’t allow myself to dwell on my deception or succumb to guilt over my improved circumstances. The staff sergeant, Mr. Allen, supplied me with a new uniform, warning me that soldiers in the house could not smell like soldiers in the barracks. He issued me a nightshirt as well with instructions that I not “sleep in my filth.” The nightshirt was too large, and I felt like a child when I donned it, but it did keep my berth clean and my uniform unrumpled.
Agrippa, who gave me permission to call him Grippy instead of sir, occupied a room on the second floor alongside Colonel Kosciuszko, as well as several other officers with regiments quartered in the garrison. The third floor housed Mr. and Mrs. Allen, their oldest daughter, Sophronia, and her husband, Joe, who all seemed to have come with the property. Mr. Allen took care of the house and the staff, though Agrippa told me to run everything by him. Joe took care of the animals and the stables, and Mrs. Allen and Sophronia were in charge of the cooking and general cleaning. I avoided them as much as I could, fearing they would see right through me.
On my second day, Agrippa made himself my personal instructor and escorted me through the house and around the immediate grounds, giving me a staggering verbal list of orders and instructions, which I carried out to exactness. I’m certain he had a good laugh at my expense when I pressed the general’s undergarments, sat on the floor beside his bed while he slept, and tested his food for poison before presenting it to him. The general informed me kindly that such things were not necessary, warning me that Grippy had an affinity for mischief.
This penchant was on full display days later when General Paterson and Colonel Kosciuszko left the garrison for a meeting at Newburgh encampment with a small contingent that didn’t include me or Agrippa Hull. They were only to be gone one night, but Grippy arranged a surprise costume party in one of the barracks—I was not invited—and attended the big event as Colonel Kosciuszko himself, wearing the colonel’s dress uniform, complete with ornamental sword, banner, and beribboned hat. The only thing missing from the costume were the colonel’s tall black boots, as Kosciuszko was wearing them.