The Enemy Says Good Morning

The Red Coat

“Thank you, girls,” I call to my sisters as they cross the lawn carrying the washing. I place one hand on my hip and use the other to shade my eyes from the noonday sun. Abigail is perfectly capable of carrying the basket herself, but little Cornelia loves playing the little woman, helping about the inn and Abigail is good natured enough to entertain her.
             “Here, Elinor,” grunts Abigail. I smile at them.
             “Much obliged, dear girls,” I say.
             “Mother has one more basket!” Cornelia says excitedly. Abigail plops her basket down and sighs.
             “Let's go fetch it, Cornelia,” she says as they go skipping off back towards the inn where my mother has been scrubbing away feverishly, no doubt saying ungodly things when my sisters are not about.
             I chuckle at them as I turn back to hanging the washing. I look down into the basket and hang a large bed sheet and then some of my father’s stockings. I suddenly glance down at the bright red and brass buttons lying still as death in the basket. I pick up the uniform gently and inspect it. It is the young lieutenant’s coat. I gingerly run my thumb over the damp garment as a wife would caress her husband’s wedding suit. Am I so foolish to indulge in such fancies? I turn my head and survey the lawn. My sisters have not yet come. I bite my lip then decide to entertain myself- if only for a moment. I slip my right hand into the right sleeve of the lieutenant’s uniform and bring it across my stomach as if it belonged to Second Lieutenant Gray himself. I sway gently and hear a faraway waltz in some distinguished commander’s ballroom with the handsome soldier as my partner. The idea of it makes me blush, though the image is too exquisite for my wits to take control again.
             “Lieutenant, I would be very much honored to have this dance!” I whisper dreamily.
             “Why, Elinor!” I hear Abigail giggle. I turn my head and see my sisters staring at me, grinning madly. I quickly throw the garment off me and hurriedly hang it.
             “I was looking for fraying on the sleeves, you see,” I protest.
             “Were you not asking the Lieutenant for a dance?” Abigail asks, setting the second basket down.
             “I was not!” I protest again. “You've got the washing, now off you go!” I begin hanging clothes again, my face bright as the coat of a soldier. Lost in thought, I turn my head and see Abigail has donned the uniform.
             “Oh, Lady Woodard! How lovely you look!” Abigail says, her voice outrageously lowered to that of a gentleman’s. Cornelia lies in the grass cackling.
             “Give that back! It belongs to a British soldier!”
             “Is that not I? Second Lieutenant Gray the handsome?” I walk towards Abigail, but she dodges me, marching ridiculously.
             “Abigail! Please! You will soil it again. Give it to me,” I demand.
             “Nay, I shan't give you my coat. I am a soldier!”
             “Give it here, I say!”
             “No, Elinor,” Abigail giggles. “Not until you admit you fancy the lieutenant!” At that moment I charge at her, take her by the collar and begin to pry the coat off my squirming sister.
             “I fancy Lieutenant Gray as much as I fancy burned bread for dinner!” I say, managing to get one of her arms out of the coat. Abigail begins to wail protests but is stopped by the sound of a gentleman.
             “Whoa now! An imposter?” a voice calls. I turn my head and see Second Lieutenant Gray walking towards us. Abigail quickly slides out of the coat and hides behind my skirts. Cornelia follows suit.
             “Afternoon, Lieutenant!” I croak, nervously reaching down for a clothes pin. “Forgive us for the treatment of your uniform, sir. They are just not used to such finery and couldn't help but try it on. Please do not be cross with them!”
            “Cross? Certainly not, though I would like for them to remember that uniform is an outfit of honour and dignity and it ought to be worn as such,” he says cordially, looking behind my skirts at my sisters. His voice is calm and even as a military man's should be, but his face betrays a smile on the corners of his rosy lips. I shudder to think of how much of Abigail’s play he heard!
             “Come now, girls. You've had your fun. Off with you now then,” I say. Cornelia and Abigail move slowly. The Lieutenant stops them.
             “Wait! If your sister does not mind, I would like to give you these,” says the lieutenant, reaching into his pocket and producing a handful of wrapped sweets. Abigail still seems nervous in the presence of the soldier and shows timid gratitude while little Cornelia is unafraid and takes them. “And maybe save a few for your eldest sister, hm?”
        “Yes, Lieutenant!” Cornelia beams before scurrying off with Abigail. I face away from the lieutenant and continue hanging the laundry. I can sense his eyes on me and can sense that he wants me to speak.
        “Tell me, Lieutenant, are always this generous?” I ask.
        “If you’ll allow me to speak frankly, Miss Woodard, a soldier’s pay is always spent on the ladies in one way or another. I just found the two little ladies more deserving than the companions of my sentrymen.”
        “I see.” I cough, embarrassed at what he was implying. Just how many redcoats were seen entering taverns and brothels in the evenings and not returning until morning light?
        “And,” Gray adds quickly, “your family has been exceedingly generous in return. It was the least I can do.”
        “Very thoughtful of you, Lieutenant Gray, sir,” I say, smiling at the young soldier gently. I lose myself in the moment before my mind bids me speak. “Praytell, what business has brought you back this afternoon? Usually you do not return until the evenings.”
        “Ah, yes. I have a message from Major Quick and the governor that may offer some compensation to your father for boarding and supplying us soldiers.”
        “Do you really?”
        “I do indeed, ma’am. Where is Mr. Woodard?”
        “I believe he is inside doing some book work. Perhaps you best not disturb him at the moment. My father does not like to be interrupted when he is counting money and calculating such things. He gets terribly cross when his focus is broken.”
        “Much obliged, Miss Woodard,” says the lieutenant.
        “Of course,” I reply, shaking out one of my father’s nightshirts and hanging it, pursing my lips when I face away from him.
        “Elinor!” my father calls suddenly.
        “Yes, Father?” I reply. He rounds the corner of the house and sees the lieutenant.
        “Mr. Woodard, sir!” Gray says, tipping his hat. He walks towards my father. “I have some business from the Major and the governor I must discuss with you.”
“Business? Regarding?”
“The financial matters surrounding our being quartered at your inn, sir.” My father nods his head in understanding.
“Very well. To my study,” says my father, leading the lieutenant away.
“Good day, Miss Woodard!” Gray calls as he walks away, smiling politely.
“Lieutenant,” I say with a tentative smile back. I see my father frown as he walks into the inn with Gray. How unhappy my father looked. Surely it was nothing I did. I was only being courteous, but I suppose in this time being courteous to the wrong people meant trouble.