Sarah's Ground (9781439115855) by Ann Rinaldi Read Free Book Online

Mother, and my job was to set the table. We had one housemaid, Ella, a silent, disapproving person who set standards I could never possibly meet.
    I have, in proper order, written to my friend Mary McMakin, in Philadelphia, and asked her to come and be my chaperone.
    She wrote back and said her mother was ill and she could not come at the moment.
    I have put the ad in the Alexandria paper to find a girl to come and stay with me. It seems so silly. What will I do with her when she comes? Am I not telling Upton Herbert that I do not trust him by doing this?
    â€œYou must do as you are told,” he admonished me. He was standing on the wharf, tamping some tobacco into his pipe for a moment’s relaxation. The river and the Maryland shore were behind him. Quite a backdrop. And now that I have been around him for a while, I can describe Mr. Herbert better. He is a lean, brown-eyed man, with the grace of hundreds of years of breeding in his movements. He dresses in brown. His shirts and fingernails are always clean.
    â€œYou speak to me as if I’m a child,” I said.
    â€œAren’t you still?”
    â€œI’m a woman of twenty-two.”
    â€œIf that is your claim.”
    â€œWhat mean you by that, sir?”
    He smiled. “Don’t get on your high horse, but if you’re twenty-two, I’m Napoléon’s nephew.”
    â€œDo you accuse me of lying?”
    â€œJust stretching the truth a bit for your own ends.”
    â€œI’m-twenty-two.”
    He drew a letter out of his coat pocket. “I have proof here that states otherwise.”
    My heart dropped inside me. I reached for the letter, but he pulled back.
    â€œWho is it from?” I asked.
    â€œMrs. Francis Knudson.”
    I gasped. “My sister, Fanny? She wrote to you? On what pretext?”
    â€œJust to tell me that you are only eighteen.”
    â€œOh!” I had no words. I had only anger, then feelings of betrayal and hurt. “She had no right. She’s always tried to hurt me and stop me from doing things. Oh, the witch.”
    â€œNow, now, she’s an older sister.”
    â€œI hate her. She’s ruined everything for me.”
    â€œNothing is ruined,” he said. “The information will go no further.”
    I hesitated a moment. “Why would you do that for me?”
    â€œBecause I think you are right for the job. You belong here, as do I. You appreciate the place for what it is.”
    How could I be angry at that assessment? Oh, he had me so confused. I turned to look up at the house. “I feel as if I belong here,” I said.
    â€œAnd so you do. I’ve seen some of your letters to Miss Cunningham. They seem to echo Mr. Washington’s when he was away at war, writing home.”
    â€œThey do?”
    â€œYes. I’ll show you how they resemble each other sometime,”
    â€œBut what will we do about Fanny?”
    He thought for a moment. “I’ll write to her and tell her I’ll take the matter up with Miss Cunningham and we’ll abide by her wishes.”
    â€œYou’d lie for me?”
    â€œI can tell a judicious lie sometimes. Look, we’re at war. You are settled in here. Miss Cunningham s health is fragile, and anyway, she can’t travel through the lines now. It would be worse not to lie at this point. Ohh. I think we have guests.” He laid down his hammer and ruler and nails. “Soldiers.”
    They were from the Union army. Five of them. They explained they were stationed near here and wanted to see Washington’s tomb. One was a boy of only about seventeen. “Want to see if he’s still here,” he said.
    I saw in Mr. Herbert’s face and demeanor the angry superintendent warring with the Southern gentleman, and I stepped in.
    â€œI’ll gladly show it to you,” I said, “if you check your guns here at the gate and put on other clothing.”
    â€œWe’re Union, ma’am. And