#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #OutJUNE10th #alivealive-oh Mrs. Figg made a deep humming noise of disapproval. “And maybe he’ll make for Valley Forge and turn his lordship over to the rebels, instead.” “Oh, I shouldna think so,” Jenny said, soothingly. “What would they want with him, after all?” Mrs. Figg blinked, taken aback at the notion that anyone might not value his lordship to the same degree that she did, but after a moment’s lip-pursing, allowed as this might be so. “He wasn’t in his uniform, was he, ma’am?” she asked me, brow furrowed. I shook my head. John didn’t hold an active commission. He was a diplomat, though technically still lieutenant-colonel of his brother’s regiment, and therefore wore his uniform for purposes of ceremony or intimidation, but he was officially retired from the army, not a combatant, and in plain clothes he would be taken as citizen rather than soldier--thus of no particular interest to General Washington’s troops at Valley Forge. I didn’t think Jamie was headed for Valley Forge in any case. I knew, with absolute certainty, that he would come back. Here. For me. The thought bloomed low in my belly and spread upward in a wave of warmth that made me bury my nose in my teacup to hide the resulting flush. _Alive_. I caressed the word, cradling it in the center of my heart. Jamie was alive. Glad as I was to see Jenny—and gladder still to see her extend an olive branch in my direction—I really wanted to go up to my room, close the door, and lean against the wall with my eyes shut tight, reliving the seconds after he’d entered the room, when he’d taken me in his arms and pressed me to the wall, kissing me, the simple, solid, warm fact of his presence so overwhelming that I might have collapsed onto the floor without that wall’s support. _Alive_, I repeated silently to myself, _he’s alive_. Nothing else mattered. Though I did wonder briefly what he’d done with John.
Posted on: Thu, 16 Jan 2014 10:47:35 +0000
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