Chapter 35

JACK STOOD GUARD while Nora washed in the river before they entered New York. His eyes scanned the woods for danger but kept drifting back to her, which he found far more dangerous. Captivated by her, he watched as she brushed her hair until it shined. He wanted to run his fingers through it from tip to end, watch as it fell around him as she rose above him.

He shook his head. Thoughts like that would get him nowhere. He could not afford entanglements. Being on the run, they could have no distractions. Feelings would not get in the way of his duty to protect her. But what of the Warrior? Was he going to be able to have a romantic relationship with her? Jack would not stand by and watch such a thing unfold. Then again, he was only taking her as far as Boston. After he saw her safely aboard The Independence, his work was finished.

Running Bull stood nearby washing and dressing his wound as Nora had shown him. He was not healing as quickly as Jack had, so Jack knew she hadn’t given him whatever magic medicine he had received. It bothered him that his brother hadn’t received the same care, and he wondered why Nora had held back. He did not believe it was because she was in any way prejudiced against his brother—the two of them got along very well. Too well at times, to his mind. She had mentioned that bodies were different and maybe that was so. Perhaps Jack really did just heal faster than Running Bull.

His instincts told him differently. He remembered…something…from when he was sick. It was there, just out of his mind’s reach. She waited for him. Watching. She hadn’t seemed as concerned about him as she had for Running Bull. Of course, his mind could be creating things. They were naturally suspicious of each other still, as they knew the other held secrets.

Watching as Nora finished up, Jack walked toward her. Tying the end of her hair with a bow, she looked at him in curiosity.

“We haven’t spoken about what we will be doing in New York City,” Jack said. “We need accommodations, some place for Running Bull to stay out of sight.”

“Ben has associates that frequent Fraunces Tavern. We should start there. Will Running Bull be accompanying you on your tribe business? When would you like to accomplish your task?”

“That has yet to be decided,” Jack said, evading the question. Not wanting to put Running Bull in any danger, Jack had planned to leave him behind at whatever accommodations they were able to secure. Running Bull, he knew, would be adamant against such a thing, even if Jack presented it as him staying behind to guard Nora.

“We’ll start with the tavern then.”

Jack watched as Nora walked back to the horses and Running Bull followed quickly after. He walked in the opposite direction, intent on checking their perimeter. They would be en-tering New York today, and he didn’t want any further ambushes. Uncertainty awaited them in the city. He would complete his tribe business there, and then the time would come to choose which world he would stay in.

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IT WAS LATE when Jack and Nora stopped in front of Fraunces Tavern in New York City and tethered their horses. Running Bull hid safely near the park, they having all agreed that he stay close this time. The people of New York weren’t any friendlier or accepting than the people of Philadelphia, but they couldn’t afford any more time backtracking. They had lost three days’ time while they waited for Running Bull’s fever to break and his wound to be well enough to travel.

“This is not the kind of establishment that I’m accus-tomed to, Nora.” Jack frowned as he looked through the window at the elegant clientele inside. The patrons in the tavern were wealthy, gentry, landed, possibly nobility, and it was the last place on Earth where a man like Jack Justice frequented or could blend in.

“No, I would think not,” Nora agreed, daintily removing her riding gloves. “But Ben said many of his friends gather here on the second floor. Perhaps they will be here tonight and will help us secure lodging that will accommodate all three of us.”

“Rogan’s men could be inside,” Jack reminded her.

“It is a possibility, yes,” Nora agreed. “However, I know Lord Rogan. He will be waiting for me in Boston, if he has learned of my destination. He would not tarry trying to guess where we might stop along the way. Not while he could be planning our ambush at the end of the journey.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

“It is what I would do.” She shrugged and started up the stairs. He beat her to the door and gave her a glare, the one that reminded her—again—that she did not enter before him. She sighed in response and gestured impatiently for him to open the door.

The tavern was elegantly decorated. Most of the tables were full, despite the late hour. Men and women dressed in fin-ery dined and enjoyed the entertainment of the string quartet playing in a corner. Evergreen bunting and ribbons hung about the rooms, heralding the Christmas holiday. Gaming tables sat in corners and before roaring fires, and a haze of pipe smoke hung about the ceiling.

“Good evening, good sir,” Nora said to the maître d’. “Would you be so good as to inform the gentlemen upstairs that Lady Eleanor has arrived from Philadelphia?”

The maître d’ stared in astonishment and looked from Nora to Jack, obviously taking in their rough and travel-soiled attire. He crinkled his nose in disgust.
Believing he was about to order them to leave, Nora took another step forward. “Perhaps I did not make myself plain enough, good man. We have been traveling for some time and are in need of lodging and refreshment. My sponsor’s colleagues are upstairs, and I ask you—once again—to go and inform them that I have just arrived from Philadelphia.” When the maître d’ neither spoke nor moved, Nora continued, “Perhaps if I spoke with Mr. Fraunces himself?”

Suddenly, the man came to life. “My lady! I apologize most abjectly. You have given me a start. Indeed, there are gentlemen meeting upstairs in our whiskey bar. I will go to them at once and deliver your message, my lady. You said your name was?”

“Lady Eleanor,” Nora replied. “Promptness would be appropriate.”

The man hurried off up the stairs behind him. Nora grinned and looked at Jack. “It just takes a little diplomacy.”

“I’m impressed. He’s tripping over himself to do your bidding, even though he doesn’t believe a word of your story.”

“There were no lies in my story, sir. I did not say that anyone upstairs would be expecting us, I merely implied so.”

“And what happens when the wrong men descend the stairs, Nora?” Jack questioned. “What if it is Rogan’s colleagues and not Ben’s?”

“I suppose in that event, you will think of something. You have your weapons, and our horses are not far. We are well practiced in abrupt exits by now.”

Jack couldn’t prevent his lips from twitching in humor. She was not wrong, and he admired her sheer bravado.

The 'lady of the manor' attitude could come in quite handy when needed. For the first time, he truly saw her for what she’d been raised to be—a great lady, mingling among rich and powerful people. Her husband’s perfect hostess, charming his guests, dancing with the most important ones, laughing at the jokes, remembering all the names.
Would her husband in that life have been born a lord like her father? Perhaps a duke or an earl, or maybe a wealthy banker. Whoever he might have been, he would never have been a poor vagabond with nothing but his wits and strength to his name.

Jack told himself that wasn’t her world anymore, or if it was, she wanted nothing to do with it now. That was not the life she led, but the one she’d left. However, he could not deny how easily she slid back into it. She effortlessly intimidated the maître d’, who was stunned by her air of command, as well as her beauty—dirty as she was from traveling—and he had clearly found her choice of companion lacking. Jack tried to pay no mind to it. He assured himself it made no difference to him what others thought—the more they underestimated him, the better.

A tall, elegantly dressed and bewigged man came rush-ing down the stairs, followed by the flustered maître d’.

“My lady!” The man approached them with outstretched arms, then took both of Nora’s hands in his and kissed her cheeks. “We are delighted you have arrived safely. Mr. Franklin sent word ahead that we might expect you.”

“He did?” Nora asked, concealing her surprise.

“Of course! Couriers can travel with remounts stationed along a more direct route, my dear,” the man replied, then turned to Jack. “Mr. Justice, congratulations on your recent nuptials.”

“Thank you,” Jack said as the man pumped his hand. “You have me at a disadvantage, I’m afraid.”

“Of course, how remiss of me,” the man said. He held out his arm indicating they should go before him upstairs. “I am Alexander Hamilton, a colleague of dear Mr. Franklin’s. Some of us are upstairs dining. Lady Nora, my dear, I am sorry to report that you will be the only member of the fairer sex, but you honor us with your presence. Please, come and sit with us.”

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A/N: Fraunces Tavern still exists and operates in NYC. You can go there, and it's really cool.