Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(35)

“Mama, you must come, too!” Peggy said.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Schuyler replied. “This is my home, and I will greet any and all visitors as is proper for a mistress when her husband is not as home.”

“Mama, I must insist,” said Peggy. “Papa would never allow anything to happen to you. We can take care of these men.”

“Yes, Peggy and I will greet them,” said Eliza determinedly. “Mama, go upstairs.”

For a moment, Mrs. Schuyler seemed ready to argue, but seeing the fierce look of determination on both her daughters’ faces, she nodded instead.

“Upstairs. All of you,” said Eliza. “Peggy and I will deal with this matter. Angelica, you cannot remain downstairs in your condition.”

Angelica held her sisters’ gazes gravely and then, taking Ren’s hand, led him upstairs. John and Philip followed.

“Are you certain we can do this?” asked Peggy when they had gone.

“We have no choice,” said Eliza, who turned to the door when she realized something. “Mary? Is Cornelia upstairs already?”

Mary gasped. “It was time for her nap, and it was just so hot upstairs!”

“Mary!” Eliza said sharply. “Where is Cornelia?”

“She must be sleeping in the east parlor!” cried Peggy.

Eliza turned and, all but dumping Kitty in her mother’s arms, pushed past Mrs. Schuyler and dashed down the hall toward the front of the house. She ran into the east parlor, where her five-year-old sister lay stretched out on a sofa.

“Cornelia,” she said in as gentle a voice as she could muster, though it sounded quite shrill to her ears.

Cornelia’s eyes fluttered open. “Lizzy? Is it tea time?”

“Not exactly, dear. But come along now, and I’ll have Mary fetch you a nice bowl of fresh cream and baked apples.”

Cornelia sat up slowly, and Eliza had to hurry her along.

“Schleepy!” she called as Eliza dragged her into the hall—just as the front door burst open, only a few feet behind them, and a horde of men began streaming into the house.

Eliza grabbed Cornelia and pushed her into Peggy’s arms. Peggy drew back, trembling as she held their youngest sister.

“Gentlemen!” Eliza said in her brightest voice even as she backed toward the staircase, which was a good thirty feet behind her. “Forgive me for not opening the door myself. I did not hear you knock.”

“Quiet, girl!” one of the ruffians spat. “We have no interest in you or your fellow brats. Where is Philip Schuyler?”

“Gone to alert the Albany militia,” said Eliza, thinking quickly. “If you know what’s good for you, you will hie back to whatever cave from which you crept before he returns.”

“Yes!” said Peggy stoutly. “Papa will be here in any moment!”

In fact, General Schuyler had left yesterday for the estate in Saratoga, preparing for the harvest, and no help was on the way. Eliza doubted their improvisation would fool their attackers. But maybe—the men seemed to think General Schuyler was still in residence, after all.

“Oh, is he? And how do we know he is not hiding upstairs like a frightened child?” sneered the Brit.

Eliza placed herself in front of Peggy and Cornelia, to shield them from the men, and drawing herself to her full height, scoffed at the notion that her father would be so cowardly. “The answer to that question is implicit in your presence here. You have come for our father because you know him to be a military man of great renown and fortitude. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be worth your while. Do you think such a man would cower from a ragtag bunch of irregulars who themselves don’t have the courage to wear the uniform of their allegiance?”

The front of the hall had completely filled up with armed men now. Their expressions were leering and contemptuous, yet they held themselves in check, though one Brit was eyeing a silver ewer with a gleam in his eye.

If that is the only thing they take, Eliza thought, we will be getting off easy.

“You have a saucy mouth,” the apparent leader said. “Especially for a genteel, unarmed woman.”

“I am armed with my God-given womanhood, which is more than enough to protect me from the likes of you. And soon enough our father will be back with twenty men, and then I wonder what will protect you,” said Eliza angrily.

The men looked nervously at one another, some doubtfully, but others with palpable alarm.

Eliza took the moment to push Peggy and Cornelia farther back, and soon Peggy was climbing the stairs two at the time, Cornelia giving off a little cry.

“Bah!” another soldier said now, stepping forward. “Let’s see your womanhood protect you from this.” And so saying, he grabbed an axe and hurled it right at Eliza.

“Eliza!” screamed her mother from the shadows of the stairs as the axe flew through the air.

But Eliza stood calmly in the doorway, the weapon quivering in the doorframe beside her.

“Is that all?” she said coldly. Before anyone could answer, she continued. “I would suggest that you leave while you can. Our father loves this house almost as much as he loves the people who live in it, and he will not take this nick in his walnut paneling in good humor.”

She held her chin high and hoped they wouldn’t notice how much she was shaking. To her relief, their ire seemed to be spent.