Chapter 1: Run

~*~Summer 1764~*~

A cool breeze blew in through the open window. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the sounds of children's laughter echoed from outside. But six-year-old Lydia Woodhull was trapped inside working on her sewing. She tugged at her cap that covered her ginger hair, wishing to rid herself of it but a weathered hand swatted at her small hand. Timidly, Lydia glanced at Widow Browne, looking rather mouselike. Lydia didn't particularly enjoy the older woman's company, but she had no choice in the matter. Her father, not well-practiced or suited in the art of feminine etiquette, brought the older woman into their home several times a week to help train Lydia to become a lady and housekeeper. He did this because the girl did not have a mother whom to learn from and Lydia needed a woman's hand in her life. Rebecca Woodhull had tragically died when giving birth to Lydia, leaving Richard Woodhull the daunting task of raising two sons and a daughter on his own.

Growing up with two brothers, Lydia was keen to keep up with them, often times much to her father's chagrin. But Judge Richard Woodhull had a soft spot for his only daughter who had inherited her mother's bright blue eyes, ginger locks, and charming smile that could easily soften his heart. While he tried to remain firm with her, especially as he had the boys, he often times buckled to her will. He just couldn't help it with those eyes and smile of hers. Richard was eternally grateful that Widow Browne had offered to come into their home to help guide Lydia, despite the young girl's disapproval.

Lydia sighed. It was a beautiful day outside and it was such a shame to waste the day inside sewing. She vowed to herself that she would never do such a thing when she had a home of her own. No, she would spend the day outside doing as she pleased when she was old enough to do so. When Widow Browne glanced away for a moment, Lydia tugged once more at her cap before her fingers returned to the sewing on her lap. She hated the tediousness of sewing. Her stitches looked terrible and Widow Browne's warnings that she would make a terrible wife someday if she couldn't sew certainly didn't help matters. Lydia would rather be outside playing with her brother Abraham and his friends than sewing. Then again, almost anything else was more enjoyable than Widow Browne's lessons.

Still quite distracted from her lessons, Lydia glanced at the open window to find Benjamin Tallmadge's grinning face. He lifted his arm through the window and waved to her. Her eyes widened, but she quickly tried to hide her surprise, lest Widow Browne see her. Ben was a neighbour, son of the town preacher, and one of Abe's best friends. Ben was ten years old and had sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was probably Lydia's favourite of Abe's friends because he was usually the nicest to her and could always manage to make her smile. Not to mention that Lydia much preferred Ben's mother teaching her things than old Widow Browne. Ben's mother at least tried to make things enjoyable for her.

Lydia glanced at the open window once again to find Ben making silly faces at her trying to make her laugh. She tried her best to hide her amusement, but a giggle escaped her lips. Quickly, she faked a cough to mask her giggles. Lydia then dropped her sewing in her lap and covered her mouth with her hands, hoping that Widow Browne hadn't noticed the giggle nor her disobedience. Thankfully, if the older woman noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, Widow Browne just continued darning the sock in front of her.

When Lydia finally dared to glance at the window again, Ben was gone. She frowned ever so slightly before she returned her attention to her sewing. Concentrating on something she didn't find interest in was a task in and of itself. If this was what was expected of a lady, then Lydia had no desire of becoming one someday. No, she would rather find something else to do. The sound of Ben's laughter entwined with Abe and Caleb's laughter wafted into the house. Lydia sighed and glanced out the window as the boys' voices continued to resonate through the house. She frowned. It wasn't fair that boys got to have all the fun.

Fifteen minutes later, Lydia glanced at the clock before she looked at Widow Browne, daring to speak without being spoken to. "Might we finish early with lessons today?" the young girl asked. She tried not to sound too eager, but Widow Browne could see right through her. She always could. It was annoying.

"Our lessons will end when I say they do, Lydia Woodhull," Widow Browne snapped without even looking up from her darning. Lydia sighed and picked up her sewing again for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Sometimes, she wished she had been born a boy. She would much rather be making mischief than a quilt square or darning a sock, or whatever else was expected of a lady.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lydia was finally allowed to set down her sewing. For a moment, she thought Widow Browne might end their lessons prematurely, but instead, Widow Browne insisted that she practice playing the pianoforte. Any proper lady in her position with hopes for a respectable marriage should know how to play the pianoforte. Or so she had been told. While playing wasn't her favourite activity, playing the pianoforte was much more enjoyable than sewing.

Her fingers began to move across the pianoforte, but she could not make it through the first line without a few mistakes.

"Focus, Lydia," Widow Browne scolded before she swatted at Lydia's hands.

The swat didn't hurt, but if she continued to make mistakes, the swats would get harder. Lydia gave a slight nod of her head before she concentrated a little harder on the song she was playing. She carefully plunked out the notes on the sheet music in front of her, but it didn't sound quite like the song it was supposed to resemble. Sometimes it seemed that no matter how much she practised, Lydia never seemed to get any better at playing. She much prefered singing to playing. She sang quite frequently, especially when she was alone outside. Some folks said she had the voice of an angel. Missus Tallmadge had even complimented her on her lovely voice. Widow Browne never did such a thing. That was another reason Lydia disliked Widow Browne. Nothing she did was ever quite satisfactory enough for the old woman.

Widow Browne eventually relented and ended Lydia's lessons for the day. Although Lydia had a sneaking suspicion it was due to a headache from her terrible playing. Widow Browne gathered her things and left Whitehall. Lydia carefully watched Widow Browne from the window, waiting. She watched the older woman walk down the lane and head in the direction of her own home, which backed onto the sound. When Lydia was sure the widow was out of view of Whitehall, she hoisted her petticoats from dragging on the floor and ran outside to find her brother and his friends. She wanted to play too.

Rounding the house, she found her brother Abe sword fighting using sticks with Caleb Brewster, while Ben watched on, waiting for his turn. Ben must have noticed Lydia running toward them, because he smiled and waved at her. She smiled and waved back with one hand, while holding onto her cap with her other hand.

"Might I play?" Lydia asked as she approached the boys. Abe glanced at her and Caleb took the opportunity to jab him in the chest with his stick. Abe fell to the ground and groaned as Caleb declared himself the victor.

From where he lay on the ground, Abe looked rather perturbed that she had interrupted their game and caused him to lose. "Girls don't fight, Lyddie," he stated firmly as he picked himself up from the ground before he folded his arms across his chest and glared at his sister. Typical Abe. He always hated it when Lydia tried to play with him and his friends.

Lydia narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, following her brother's suit. "Joan of Arc did. Benj told me so. Didn't you, Benj?"

Abe shot an annoyed look in Ben's direction. Ben tried to hide his smile as he suddenly became rather interested in the grass.

"You're just scared she'll beat ya, aren't ya Abe?" Caleb laughed, slapping Abe on the shoulder.

Abe's face reddened as he stammered, "No I'm not. She knows she's not to be playing such games with us. It's not a girl's place."

"Benj," Lydia pleaded to her brother's friends who had remained silent thus far. Her bottom lip jutted out a bit as her blue eyes met his. Lydia knew if she could convince Ben, he would be her best bet at convincing Abe or at least keeping the peace between them. Ben looked torn.

But before Ben could respond, Caleb mocked her in a high-pitched voice. "Benj," he taunted. "Ben."

Ben responded by jabbing his elbow at Caleb's ribs. Caleb groaned and slightly doubled-over in pain. Lydia couldn't help but grin. Only she ever called him Benj. Ben pulled Caleb upright by the collar of his shirt before he patted his friend's back. He smiled at Lydia before looking at Abe who stood rather crossly with his arms folded.

"Abe does have a fair point, Lyddie. Fighting is men's' work..." Ben started. Lydia's disappointment was evident on her face, but he wasn't done. "But we were just about to play something else and I see no harm in it."

"Ben," Abe groaned.

"I'm not finished," Ben said sternly to Abe. Abe groaned and hung his head before Ben continued. "We should give her a test to see if she can play with us. She can play only if she passes." Ben cast a quick wink in Lydia's direction. "Perhaps a foot race?"

Lydia chewed her lip nervously. She knew she could beat Caleb easily, but so did Abe and he would never agree to a race against Caleb. When she and Abe raced in the past, they were usually neck and neck. He would want an easy victory so that she could not play with them. Before Abe even said anything, Lydia knew that he was going to volunteer Ben to race her. Ben was the fastest of the boys present and in the village of Setauket. He always won the foot races with the other boys.

When Abe did predictably volunteer Ben, Ben simply nodded his head. He must have expected the same outcome, but he said nothing. He just glanced at Lydia, which somewhat unnerved her. Abe marked the line for Lydia and Ben to stand behind. The rules were simple: the first one to the maple tree and back would be declared the winner. Ben smiled as he took his place beside Lydia. He did a few stretches, carefully watching Lydia nervously tug at her cap. Lydia wanted to win but she knew she would never be able to outrun Benjamin Tallmadge unless God decided to perform a miracle of divine intervention. But she was too stubborn to admit defeat. She at least had to try.

"Ready!" Caleb shouted.

Ben put one foot slightly in front of the other and leaned forward. Lydia followed suit, assuming that if Ben did it, it must be helpful.

"Set!"

Ben glanced over at Lydia and winked. Her brow furrowed. And before she could question him, Caleb shouted, "GO!"

Lydia watched as Ben took off in a sprint in front of her. His longer stride was on his side. But Lydia was persistent and she ran after him as fast as her little legs would carry her. She squealed as her cap flew off her head, but she didn't stop to grab it because she was slowly gaining ground on Ben. Her ginger locks flowing freely behind her. Perhaps God did watch foot races.

She watched as Ben approached the maple tree and she willed herself to run faster. When suddenly, much to her surprise, Ben tumbled to the ground. "Benj!" Lydia called as she ran a little faster to help him. She saw as he lay there on the ground groaning and holding his foot. Poor Benj.

Lydia's running slowed as she reached the tree, but Ben must have anticipated that she would do that because when she was close enough he whispered, "Go, Lyddie. Go. Run." It took her a second to process his words. He gave her a sly grin. She then realised that he had tripped on purpose so that she could win. She grinned at him and he gave her another quick wink before he went back to groaning and cradling his foot.

With her hair flowing freely in the wind, Lydia sprinted back toward Abe and Caleb. Caleb's expression was dumbfounded but Abe looked rather disgruntled. Lydia giggled and looked over her shoulder to see Ben stand up and come bounding toward her-his foot miraculously better. She squealed and faced forward again, running as quick as she could with all her might. She wanted to beat Ben, even if he did let her win, it would still be a victory in her book. Lydia Woodhull beat Benjamin Tallmadge, the fastest boy in Setauket.

Crossing the finish line first, Lydia slowed down and raised her arms in the air to celebrate with glee. Ben hadn't anticipated her stopping, so he ploughed right into Lydia, knocking her to the squealed as she fell, trying to regain her balance, but it was no use. Lydia landed in a very unladylike position, sprawled on the grass at Ben's feet. That made Caleb and Abe laugh. Even Ben cracked a small chuckle at the sight before he quickly extended his hand to her. Lydia slowly reached for his hand. His fingers wrapped around around wrists as he pulled her to her feet once more.

"Sorry, Lyddie," Ben apologised once Lydia was stable on her feet. He was unable to hide the grin on his amusement and grinned at her. Lydia groaned and brushed the grass from her petticoats. It was then Lydia noticed her discarded cap in his hand. He must have picked it up for her on his run back.

She held her hand out with a stern expression on her face. She did not like being laughed at. With a sober expression on his face, Ben placed the cap in Lydia's outstretched hand. "Aw, c'mon, Lyddie, don't be angry," Ben pleaded. "I truly am sorry I ran into you. I didn't mean to. I swear."

Lydia looked up at him and eyed his expression. He seemed to be telling the truth. "Apology accepted then," Lydia said as he pulled her cap back onto her head. She then looked up the boy in front of her with her arms folded across her chest.

Unable to resist himself, Ben gave her cap a tug so that it covered her eyes. He chuckled as Lydia groaned, "Benj," and moved the cap back to its proper position. He was always teasing her like that.

By this point, Abe and Caleb had run over to meet them. Abe wore a scowl on his face. "You let her win!" Abe groaned to Ben.

Ben, who stood a little taller than Abe looked at him and said, "No, I didn't. I fell. You saw so yourself!"

"Oh, we saw you falling all right, Benny-boy," Caleb grinned as he looked at Ben and then to Lydia. Ben shook his head at Caleb's statement. Lydia flushed and Abe rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Let's just play," Ben stated, taking control of the group with his natural leadership skills. "Hide-and-seek. Last one to the tree is it." No one had time to argue with him as he sprinted back toward the tree. The others followed after him. Caleb made a comment about Benny boy's ankle being miraculously better, but Ben simply looked over his shoulder and laughed.

Ben touched the tree first, Abe second, and Lydia third. That meant Caleb was it. "Make sure you actually get to a hundred this time," Ben called as Caleb closed his eyes and leaned against the tree. Caleb waved his hand, dismissing Ben as the other scattered into the trees. Abe went west, while Lydia went north with Ben trailing behind her. Lydia found that rather odd but she said nothing and kept running until Ben's hand snaked around her arm.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he had a single finger pressed against his lips motioning her to be quiet. He then pointed up into the tree. "Caleb never counts all the way to a hundred," Ben whispered. "If you keep running he'll hear you. If we go up, he won't be sure of where we are. Here, I'll give you a boost." Ben then knelt down and wove his fingers together. She didn't question him. Lydia stepped onto his hand and he lifted her upward. She scrambled onto one of the tree branches and Ben followed behind her. They then waited for Caleb to find them.

~*~Autumn 1776~*~

Lydia awoke with a start. She was breathing rather heavily as she sat up in bed, holding onto her chest. Since the war had started, dreams of her childhood and of better times often plagued her in the night. Sometimes it was almost worse to remember the good times because they were painful reminders of everything they had lost and dreams that were no more. And while she hoped the war would end quickly, but deep in her heart, she knew that would never happen. At least not if things turned out as she wished them.

In the darkness of her bedroom, eighteen-year-old Lydia padded across the floorboards with her bare feet as she made her way to the window. The night air and drops of beaded rain gave the paned glass a cool feeling. Lydia leaned her shoulder against the window sill and watched the darkness outside. Every now and then, the moon dared to glimpse from behind the storm clouds and Lydia couldn't help but think about Benjamin Tallmadge. She couldn't help but wonder where he was and how he was doing. She wondered if he could be looking up at the very same moon thinking of her. Lydia hoped that he was.

But Lydia's harboured feelings for Benj must remain a secret. Granted, her relationship with him was probably one of Setauket's worst kept secrets; but she had managed to convince her father that things were over and that they had been for some time now. She never spoke of Ben out loud in her father's house. Especially not given recent developments, when the Tallmadges weren't loyal to the Crown and the British regulars had taken up quarters in Setauket. While Lydia knew Reverend Tallmadge refused to kill anyone ever again after he fought against the French and Iroquois, his three oldest sons had joined Washington's Army. And as far as her father was concerned, Lydia's current feelings for Benjamin were simply that of a heartbroken girl whose childhood sweetheart had betrayed her and the King. But the truth of the matter was that Lydia Woodhull would always love Benjamin Tallmadge, rebel or not. He had captured her heart long ago and had never given it back.

After a long sigh, Lydia walked back to her bed. She crawled back beneath the blankets when she heard voices speaking in low tones. Major Hewlett, the officer they were quartering, must still be awake, she mused. That man always seemed to be awake, which was especially odd given that his duty wasn't all that difficult. After all, he was referred to by many in the British Army, behind his back, as the Oyster Major, since his garrison was away from any real fighting or action on Long Island, far enough away from York City where the rebels had recently been driven from the city. His only duty was to protect the sleepy seaside establishment which was in the heart of Tory country. The rebels would have to be reckless to attack Setauket under the current circumstances.

While Lydia didn't have any qualms about Major Hewlett, she didn't like living under the same roof as him. While her opinion wasn't solely based on principle, it was the argument she continually reminded herself. A young woman, living in her father's house, with an unmarried man a few doors away hardly seemed proper. But it seemed that propriety wasn't a luxury anyone could afford these days with the war. She had heard stories of terrible things happening to some of the women who quartered a soldier while their husbands were out. Stories that made her spine tingle. Thankfully, Major Hewlett didn't seem the type. His interactions so far with her had been pleasant enough, but she still would prefer that he resided somewhere besides Whitehall.

Lydia yawned. There were still a few more hours before she needed to rise for the day, so she curled up beneath her quilt until she was quite snug. She closed her eyes. Her final thoughts were of Benjamin Tallmadge before she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning after breakfast, Father and Major Hewlett departed to tend to the day's duties. Lydia stayed behind for a time until she found an opportunity to escape to the cove. With her cloak pulled tight around her frame, she made her way through the brush and bramble, humming as she walked. While she tried to make it look like she was simply out for a short jaunt, Lydia had a specific destination in mind. It was a place she had visited frequently these days: the tree. Her tree. Their tree.

When she spotted the tree, she stopped humming. Lydia looked over her shoulders to make sure no one was watching her. That was the last thing she needed, someone figuring out her secret. She especially didn't need a member of the Royal Army figuring it out. The thought of it was positively dreadful. One could never be too careful these days, with even the simplest of tasks. But there was no one watching her. It was safe to proceed.

Slowly, she walked over to the tree and rested her hand on the trunk. Her fingers lithely traced the letters BT + LW carved into the bark. The letters had been there for years. They had been carved into the tree back when things had seemed much simpler. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Lydia bent down and began to brush away the leaves and twigs that covered the small burrow at the base of the tree. She felt around inside, but there was nothing there. Lydia's heart sunk. She had been hoping something would be there.

Lydia pushed the leaves back in place to cover the burrow. She then slowly exhaled before she sat down and leaned her back against the tree, glancing out to the stretch of water before her. Sometimes, she wished to go beyond sleepy Setauket, but she also knew that their little hamlet was probably the safest place for her. For now, she was safe living in her father's house, especially with her father being the town's magistrate. But how long her safety was secure was a question which she did not know the answer.

After a few more minutes, Lydia decided to venture into town after a quick stop at home. With Aberdeen cooking her father's noon meal, Lydia had nothing pressing her to stay home. She was itching to chat with Anna Strong for a bit. While Anna was another complicated matter in the Woodhull family, Lydia wasn't about to deny one of her closest friend's since childhood because of the war. She just needed to be careful the manner in which they were seen. So, almost every time Lydia went to visit Anna, she always brought something along with her to trade. The Strongs could afford to buy whatever it was Lydia brought them and in return, her father couldn't exactly fault her for a business dealing. Especially when it supported his estate. Not that she was always honest about how much money she received. Lydia would usually pocket some of the money she received and save it. There might be a day when she would need the funds.

Having done some baking yesterday, Lydia wrapped apple pasties in a cloth before she placed them in a basket and made her way into town, to the tavern. Anna's husband Selah owned Strong Tavern and he had always been a kind friend to Lydia, despite whatever tension might exist between him and Abe. Selah Strong was a good man who always made sure to look after her when she ventured into town, especially with the British regulars around.

Lydia enjoyed the walk from Whitehall into town. She was rather fond of walking and it gave her an excuse to be lost in her thoughts. Well, that was one reason. The other was that it gave her an excuse to walk by the Tallmadge place. While she knew Ben wasn't there, Reverend Tallmadge resided there with his wife and his youngest son Isaac. With three of his sons off fighting for the Continental Army, it didn't take long for the loyalists of Setauket to turn their backs to Reverend Tallmadge. But despite her father's feelings on the Tallmadges, Lydia refused to turn her back on a family that had only shown her kindness.

As she walked down the lane past the Tallmadge house, Lydia caught sight of Isaac waving to her. She smiled and waved back at him. Isaac called to someone in the house, likely his stepmother before he ran toward Lydia. She stopped and waited for him to approach her. But Lydia couldn't help but smile. Of all the Tallmadge brothers, Isaac resembled Ben the most. Not to mention that they shared the same birthdate.

"Morning Lyddie...I mean, Miss Woodhull," Isaac greeted, quickly correcting himself.

"Lyddie's fine, Isaac," Lydia said with a slight chuckle. "And good morning to you, as well. How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing well. I'm giving Mother a hand with some of the chores." There was a slight hint of sadness in his tone and Lydia was fairly certain she knew why. The current Missus Tallmadge hadn't birthed the Tallmadge boys. Reverend Tallmadge had married his second wife in the winter of 1770, two years after his first wife and mother of his children had died. It was a time Lydia remembered vividly. Poor Isaac had been so young when his mother had died and now it seemed like everyone had left him. Even John, who wasn't part of Washington's army was away in Connecticut attending Yale, where Ben had also attended years prior.

Lydia softly smiled before she reached into her basket and pulled out three apple pasties. With most of the town either hating the Tallmadges or too terrified to defend them, Lydia knew they were in need of some Christian charity and kindness. Especially with the church having been forcibly removed from Reverend Tallmadge by the British Army. She sometimes felt it was her duty to look in on the Tallmadges now and then, especially given her history with the family. Lydia placed the pasties in Isaac's hands. "Those better make it inside," Lydia warned. "All of them."

Isaac smiled, looking very much like Ben, nodded his head. Lydia wanted to ask Isaac if he had heard from Ben, but she knew that wouldn't be appropriate because she had appearances to keep up. Even he, though he was Ben's brother, didn't know the truth of the matter. The sound of a cart was approaching, startled her. and Lydia knew it was time to take her leave. "You take care now," Lydia told Isaac. "And give Reverend and Missus Tallmadge my best."

With that, Lydia continued her trek into town. The gentleman in the cart greeted her as it passed her and Lydia greeted the driver in return. He asked her if she wished to ride the rest of the way into town, but Lydia turned down the offer. She truly did enjoy the walk.

When Lydia reached town, she lifted her petticoats a bit to keep them out of the mud. She had made it no more than a few steps when a hand firmly took hold of her elbow. Lydia's head quickly whipped to her right to find a tall man dressed in a red coat holding onto her. She didn't even need to look up at the man's face to know who the hand belonged to Lieutenant John Graves Simcoe.

Lydia didn't like the man. He had been a thorn in her side since he had taken his post in Setauket. Even if she hadn't given her heart away already, the lieutenant was far too forward and brazen, especially when it came to her. He didn't hesitate to make his feeling known toward her and she was certain that he had already approached her father in the short time he had been in Setauket to question about her hand. Thankfully, her father must have turned him away otherwise she would likely be engaged to the horrid man already. His eyes always seemed to linger a little too long and so did his hand. He was always finding an excuse to touch her.

She gently tried to pull her elbow from his grasp but was unsuccessful. "While I appreciate the offer, I think I can manage a few more steps, Lieutenant Simcoe," Lydia said as evenly as she could, still trying to free her elbow.

"Where are you headed, Miss Woodhull?" Simcoe asked, ignoring Lydia's plea and tightening his grip on her elbow. She wished he would just leave her alone. She wished she could just tell him her heart belonged to another, but she had a feeling even that wouldn't stop Simcoe's advances. While most of his advances were directed toward her, she also knew that his eyes wandered on Anna Strong, a married woman, as well.

Lyda tried to hide her annoyance with a sigh before she responded, "I have some business to attend to with Missus Strong." She slightly lifted the basket in her hand for him to see. Lieutenant Simcoe reached over and snatched the basket from her.

"Let me get that for you," he told her. Ben would have asked. This man just did as he pleased. But it was obvious he wasn't really all that interested in helping her. At least not in that way. Simcoe then peeled back the cloth covering the baked goods and smiled greedily. "Well, well, what do we have here?"

"Apple pasties for Missus Strong and her patrons."

Simcoe stood a little taller and puffed his chest. "Might I help myself to one? They do look delicious."

Without missing a beat, Lydia responded, "You'll have to take that one up with Missus Strong, Lieutenant Simcoe. I don't want to short Missus Strong on her order. That wouldn't be proper business, now would it?"

"No, of course not," he responded rather lamely. A moment later the timbre of his voice changed. "But perhaps you might fancy yourself making more for me. I have heard talk of your delectables and rumour has it that they are simply divine."

"I wouldn't go that far, Lieutenant."

He smiled slyly at her. "I would."

His words sickened her, but she chose not to say anything more. Thankfully, there was no more need for conversation because they had reached the tavern. Lydia thanked Lieutenant Simcoe through gritted teeth before he went inside. She didn't want to go inside unless she was sure Anna was there. So, Lydia waved to catch Selah's attention from the window. Selah saw her after he poured Simcoe his drink and looked at her curiously. Lydia lifted her basket and he nodded his head and motioned for her to come inside. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that her father hadn't somehow appeared before hesitantly stepped foot in the tavern.

To say that things were uncomfortable inside would have been an understatement. Several soldiers whistled at her. Somehow that was perfectly acceptable behaviour in a tavern. She didn't miss Lieutenant Simcoe's voice chastising one of the men who tried to grab her as she kept her head held high and walked to greet Selah.

Selah looked rather tense with her inside the tavern. She knew that his disgruntled actions weren't directed at her, but at the situation. Selah was sure to look out for her, especially after the promise he had made months before. "Anna's upstairs," he stated rather gruffly before glancing down. "And if Simcoe knows what's good for him…" Selah's voice trailed off. He didn't need to finish. Lydia understood his intentions.

Lydia gently pressed her hand on Selah's arm. "Thank you, Selah," she said sincerely. "I'll try not to be long, but you know how Anna and I get."

Selah dryly responded, "Don't I know it." He then cracked Lydia a small smile. "But I know she'll be pleased to see you." He then nodded for her to be on her way. Not needing to be told again, Lydia walked into the back of the tavern to find Anna carrying bedding into one of the rooms. Anna didn't notice Lydia right away, so Lydia cleared her throat.

Anna turned around and smiled. "That time already?" she asked with a telling smile. Anna wiped her hands on her apron before she walked over to Lydia and embraced her in a hug. "You could have sent those along with a courier."

Lydia chuckled as he embraced her friend back. "I know. I like…"

"The walk, aye?" Anna released Lydia and eyed her knowingly.

Lydia sighed before she responded, "Aye. And perhaps the company."

Anna smiled softly. The two women had been friends for years. and had almost been sisters. Almost. Anna looked over Lydia's shoulder before she took a peek inside the basket in Lydia's hands. "Was that Lieutenant Simcoe I saw walk you in?" she asked in a hushed tone. Lydia groaned and handed the basket over to Anna.

"Obstinate man can't see beyond his own desire and ambition to see reason. It makes me miss…" Lydia stopped herself and pursed her lips together.

Anna sighed and rested her hand on Lydia's cheek. She looked sympathetically at Lydia. "Makes you miss Ben, aye?" Lydia flushed at hearing his name aloud. Anna was one of the few people who knew the truth about the matter, yet hearing Ben's name aloud was almost foreign. Lydia looked up and nodded at her friend. Anna chuckled. "Your secrets are safe with me, Lyddie."

Lydia sighed and attempted to give Anna a smile. As much as Lydia liked Selah, there were times when she wished Anna had married Abraham as they had intended. Lydia would have loved to have called Anna her sister. Anna somehow made Abraham more tolerable. But alas, that wasn't how things played out. Abe had married Thomas's intended, Mary, to keep the agreement between their families. Sadly, it was only a matter of time before Lydia's father attempted to procure an agreement for her to marry. Lydia's excuse that she didn't want to see her father alone would only last so long.

Anna released Lydia before she pulled a few coins from her apron pocket and dropped them into Lydia's hand. Lydia didn't say anything. She simply pocketed the coins. Lydia couldn't care less about the money. It was all just a ruse to give her an excuse to see her friends whom her father considered to be bad company. "Care to give me a hand?" Anna asked gesturing to the bedding.

"Aye," Lydia responded, slightly nodding her head. The two women worked together chatting about their lives since they had last seen each other a week ago. Lydia could tell that Anna was being careful not to mention Ben, but part of her wished Anna wouldn't be so careful because sometimes it felt like he only existed in her head. But Lydia knew it wasn't safe, especially with a slew of soldiers downstairs.

Anna glanced out the window and cocked her head. "Is that your brother I see skulking about?" she asked. Lydia fluffed the pillow before she walked to Anna's side. She glanced out the window where Anna pointed.

Lydia nodded her head. "Looks to be."

"What could he possibly be wanting around here?"

"Your husband does own the town's only tavern."

"Which Abraham rarely frequents. If ever." Anna shot Lydia a telling glance. Lydia knew all too well why Abe didn't visit the Strong's tavern.

Lydia folded her arms across her chest. "Would you like to go downstairs and ask him what he's up to?"

"No, of course not." Anna sat down on the bed and pursed her lips. She mulled her thoughts for a moment before she stood up and wiped her hands on her apron. "But I can ask him to join Selah and I for dinner. With Mary and Thomas of course. A chance to catch up."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"It's dinner. You seem to forget Abraham and I were friends once. There's no reason why we can't be again."

"What will your husband think?" But Anna didn't respond. She was too headstrong to give Lydia an answer. Instead, Anna headed for the stairs. Lydia groaned and followed after her, not wanting to be left alone in the quarters of a soldier. She made her way downstairs after Anna and stopped on the bottom stair to watch as Anna interrupted Selah and Abe's conversation.

Not wanting to add more injury to insult, Lydia stepped off the bottom stair and turned to exit the tavern when she found her path blocked. It was Simcoe. Again. "Miss Woodhull, care to join me?" he asked looking down at her, the lust evident in his eyes. How she wished Ben were here, but he was not.

"I really must hie myself home. I'm sure my father is expecting me," Lydia said trying to step around Lieutenant Simcoe. But he shifted his stance to block her. She released a puff of air before she glanced up at him. "Sir, if you will please excuse me…"

"Surely your father can spare you a little longer." His hands wrapped around Lydia's arms. She could feel her skin crawl from his touch. Lydia glanced back for help, only to find Selah Strong already marching toward her. Abraham following close behind.

"Unhand her, Lieutenant Simcoe," Selah hissed. "And then get out of my tavern."

Still holding onto Lydia, Simcoe glanced at Selah and then to Abraham. "You heard him. Unhand my sister," Abe added, folding his arms across his chest.

Slowly, Simcoe peeled his fingers from Lydia's arms. It was obvious he wasn't pleased with Selah and Abraham interceding on her behalf. But Lydia quickly turned and made eye contact with her brother. Abe gently grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him so that he was between her and Simcoe.

"This really wasn't necessary, gentlemen," Simcoe said smoothly. "Miss Woodhull and I have a certain...understanding."

"Like hell you do," Selah growled. Even Abe seemed somewhat surprised of Selah's defence of his sister, but he said nothing.

Before Selah could tell Simcoe once again to get out, an inebriated John Robeson sluggishly rose to his feet with a newspaper in one hand and his ale in the other. Robeson began to read an account of General Washington's retreat in the Royal Gazette from atop his chair. The account was crude and vulgar, not something that should have been read aloud. But the Redcoats cheered him on anyway. They laughed. They banged their fists and their cups on the table.

Anna and Lydia looked at each other uncomfortably and Selah didn't miss the glance between the two women. "Both of you go upstairs," Selah told Anna and Lydia, glancing toward the stairs.

"Selah, don't," Anna pleaded, reaching for her husband's arm.

But her words didn't stop him. Instead, he pushed past Simcoe and walked toward Robeson as the Redcoats continued their laughter and pounding against the tables. Selah stood tall in front of Robeson and firmly told him, "Get out, Robeson."

Robeson didn't take too kindly to Selah's words. He jumped from the chair and slowly walked toward Selah, insulting him. But Selah stood his ground, claiming that Robeson had offended the womenfolk and once again ordered him out. Captain Joyce then chimed in that Selah needn't kick Robeson out. That the man was simply celebrating the victory in New York. Selah shook his head in disbelief and then Robeson hurled an insult at him. Selah hurled one right back. It was then that things quickly escalated.

Robeson pushed Selah and an ale sloshed against Captain Joyce. Captain Joyce, assuming the ale had been thrown by Selah stood to grab him. But Selah pushed Joyce out of the way causing Joyce to fall onto a table and slice his hand on the glass he had smashed. Anna moved to help her husband, but Abe held her back. Seeing Simcoe glance at her, Lydia moved a little closer toward her brother for protection.

Next thing she knew, Selah was on the ground and Captain Joyce had drawn his sabre. Abe pushed Lydia toward Anna before he lunged for the rag on the counter. He then put himself between Captain Joyce and Selah, cleaning the Redcoat's shirt of the ale. A few seconds later, Abe was trying to remove Captain Joyce's coat but Simcoe had now joined the skirmish. He drew his gun and aimed it at Abe's head. Simcoe told Abe to release the captain. Abe did as he was told immediately and raised his hands in defeat.

Lydia was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then things got worse. Captain Joyce punched Abe in the stomach, causing Abe to fall to the floor and double over. Then all hell broke loose. The Redcoats took Joyce's actions as their call to arms. They stood and began to kick both Selah and Abe while they lay on the floor.

Lydia moved a little closer to Anna, but the woman a few years her senior grabbed her by the shoulders and said, "Run to the church and get Major Hewlett or your father. Now."

After a quick nod of her head, Lydia pushed her way through the skirmish careful to avoid getting knocked-over herself. Once outside, Lydia lifted her skirts and began to run as fast her legs would carry her like she had so many times when she was a child. The cap she had thought was firmly pinned to her head flew off in the wind. But she didn't turn back for it. She could get it on her way back. Right now, she needed to get help for Selah and Abe.

Author's Note: Again, another plot bunny has escaped, but already Lydia is near and dear to my heart. My favorite genre is historical fiction and I've always wanted to write a historical fiction story, but original stories are the bane of my existence. So, hopefully historical fanfiction is a step in the right direction! I am going to do a mix of show canon, some real life stuff, and a bit of my own imagination. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! It truly means a lot to me. :)

Thank you to Renny Autumn for looking over this multiple times for me and helping calm my nerves. And thank you to Nixdragon for your kind words and support (and murder threat if Benj and Lyddie don't get a happy ending. haha)