Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution by Suzanne Adair Read Free Book Online Page A

risk he took.   No one
had made that kind of sacrifice for her.   Softness unfolded in her soul.   "I appreciate your trust.   I
shall give it my best endeavor and not attempt escape."   She paused.   "But don't ciphers require a key?"
    "Indeed."   He motioned her to follow him back out into
the shop.   Along the way, she wondered
how the pressroom fireplace had come to look so tidy overnight.   Near Fairfax, Edward faced her.   "The key to this cipher is in a book by
Saint Augustine."
    Sophie's jaw
dangled.   " Confessions ?   Why, that's the very book stolen last
night!   If you wish me to succeed, you
must find a copy of that exact edition for my use.   I doubt anyone in Alton has such material.   You might have luck in Augusta."
    "Lieutenant,
give Mrs. Barton the book."
    Fairfax stared
at Edward as if he misunderstood.   "Sir?"
    Sophie stared
at Edward, understanding at last.   The
softness in her soul withered to ash, and a dank sense of violation spilled
into the void.   Glancing to the base of
the stairs, she spotted the strawberry boot print.   She stared at Edward's boots: the same size.   She could also count on the soldiers to
extract any evidence the confiscated charred woodcut yielded.   Why didn't they violate her house Friday
night and arrest eight men in the act of sedition?   Perhaps it was more convenient to arrest one woman on
circumstantial evidence.
    Anger flooded
her soul.   How dared Edward do this to
her?
    He passed her
the copy of Confessions he'd removed from Will's nightstand.   "Mrs. Barton is under house
arrest."
    "Sir, I
remind you of regulations concerning rebel spies —"
    "Thank
you, Lieutenant.   She has agreed to
decode the message in exchange for the privilege of house arrest."
    "Sir, the
regulations are clear.   No privileges
may be —"
    "You will
select two suitable men and station them here, within the St. James home."
    "But, sir
—"
    "Lieutenant,
need I remind you of your role as my subordinate?"
    The volcano
capped itself, and non-emotion resumed residence on the face of Fairfax.   "Sir."   He stood at attention.
    "Mrs.
Barton requires no interruptions, no visitors."
    Sophie gripped
the book, white-knuckled with fury.   "What of my brother?   Surely
you know he has no dealings with rebels."
    "One
ten-minute visitation with David St. James."
    "Sir."
    "And
secure all firearms."   Edward
leaned closer to Fairfax and lowered his voice until she could barely
distinguish his words.   "El
Serpiente was here last night looking for St. James."   El Serpiente — alias for a Spanish spy?   "The men chosen for this assignment
must protect Mrs. Barton."   Edward straightened and regarded her.   "I leave you now in the capable hands of Lieutenant
Fairfax."   He glanced at the time
on a watch from his waistcoat pocket.   "I shall return for the deciphered message on the morrow at
precisely eight-thirty."   After a
short bow, he exited out the front door.
    "You will
surrender all firearms to me immediately."
    Sophie
repressed a shudder at the thought of being in Fairfax's "capable"
hands for a full twenty-four hours.   Perhaps if she cooperated, he'd leave her alone, and she'd only have to
deal with the two soldiers.   "This
way."
    Chapter Five
    SEVENTEEN,
FOUR, TWENTY-FIVE, sixteen, forty-nine, eleven...Numbers in odd positions of
the cipher increased, but those in even positions followed no pattern.   Sophie decided she might as well assume the
message began on page seventeen.
    If he fell
in love with me, I might fall in love with him, too .   Could she love a man who'd burgled her house
and arrested her?   Could she sleep with him?   Did he love her?   What did she want from him?
    Back to the
cipher.   At the desk in her bedroom, she
copied the fourth word on page seventeen to a sheet of paper, and the sixteenth
word on page twenty-five, and so on before realizing the scheme was too
obvious.   Next she copied first letters
of words.   Gibberish.