a tray of imported sweetmeats. Somehow she always managed a recovery in time for Sunday church, only to develop a new malady on Monday.
Rebecca returned, and said, "You can go in, lass. You're just in time for tea."
Devon grinned, picked up the hatbox, and sauntered down the hall to the library, only to stand paralyzed on the threshold. Two men stood up, and Nick came forward to take her hand, which had gone cold as ice.
"Devon! Do get hold of yourself," he whispered, chuckling. With a flourish, he turned back to his guest and pulled Devon to the center of the room. "My dear, I would like you to meet Captain Andre Raveneau. Andre, this is Devon Lindsay, my goddaughter. She is fascinated by the sea, so I knew she would enjoy a chance to converse with you!"
"How do you do, mademoiselle?" Raveneau said, his voice deep, charmingly accented, and faintly amused.
When Nick pinched her, Devon blurted, "Oh, I am fine! And you?"
"I am also... fine." A fleeting grin revealed teeth which seemed startlingly white against his tanned face.
Rebecca arrived with the “tea” tray, which held three glasses, a decanter of brandy, and a small goblet of red wine. Devon always had wine at Nick's, one delightfully forbidden glassful. The distraction enabled her to find a chair and sit down. Nick returned to his desk, Raveneau to the red leather wing chair, and the tray was passed.
"How is your mother?" Nick inquired, adding to the visitor, "Devon's father, my good friend, was lost at sea some years ago. Tragically, her brother was on board as well."
Raveneau turned steel-gray eyes on Devon and she felt her heart thud alarmingly. "I am sorry," he said.
"Oh... I appreciate..." Flustered, she looked at Nick. "Mother is worse than ever, I think. She's totally absorbed in the shop, working every minute. There must be two dozen quilts and as many net canopies, all unsold, and still she makes more. She never mentions Papa or Jamie any more and hardly speaks to me. Doesn't even bother to nag about my behavior..." Devon broke off, blushing.
Raveneau had been watching her with detached interest. She was the prettiest girl he had seen in months, though sadly in need of grooming. Her cloud of burnished-rose hair was loose and windblown, boasting a dried leaf on one side. The plain blue dress she wore was too small, though it did outline the high curve of her breasts well. But her face was simply enchanting. It had been a while since he had observed such fresh beauty: sparkling blue eyes, dusky cheeks, and a mouth that enjoyed laughter. Ah, innocence! he thought, and allowed himself a lazy, cynical grin.
His expression deepened Devon's blush. She retreated into the safety of her wing chair, listening to the conversation. Apparently, whatever business was between the two men had already been discussed, for now they only exchanged news of the war.
Raveneau had been at sea until two days ago, and was interested in the details of Benedict Arnold's treason and the execution of the British officer who had acted as go-between. Devon found the Frenchman's cool attitude toward Arnold quite surprising. It had been nearly a month since General Arnold had scurried down the Hudson to New York town, leaving the popular British Major Andre to be hanged as a spy, but everyone in the area continued to talk of the traitor daily. Anger, shame, and bewilderment were emotions that ran high, yet here sat this nonchalant Frenchman, asking questions as though he were discussing the price of rum.
"I understand that Major Andre requested a military execution by firing squad," he remarked.
"Yes. General Washington wished to grant him that much, but since Andre was found guilty of spying, Washington was forced to have him hanged."
"He was a brave man, unlike that toad Arnold!" Devon exclaimed. "He put the rope around his own neck, and do you know what his last words were?"
"No, but I trust you will enlighten me," Raveneau murmured, amused.
"He said, 'My only wish is that you all bear witness that I die like a soldier and a brave man.' "
Nick coughed with embarrassment. In desperation, he drew out his watch and examined it at length, at which point Andre Raveneau stood up. Devon gazed at his tall, hard physique until she heard Nick cough once more. Both men were watching her, and she was conscious of the deep flush that spread over her face.
Nick rushed around his desk. "Devon, child, what's this