Captured by the cruel redcoat officer who has been pursuing her, Angelica
considers her options. Believing that Jack, her new husband, has just been murdered, her family threatened with death, she resolves to agree to Major Armistead's demands.
...As she sat there, drained, a strange feeling fluttered deep in her belly. She’d felt it for the first time only a few days ago. The sensation was as if a butterfly had been released, wings tapping the walls of some secret cave.
I must talk to Harriet, or Mary McGregor. One or the other, they can tell me. In spite of what has happened to my dear mate, the egg may already be in the nest. And, if that is so, what I suspect, then I must survive. Survive any way I can!
Cruel fate has once again destroyed the man I love, but this time, perhaps, something of him, of his love, remains. A miraculous someone I can hug, and kiss.
Fumbling in the pocket, she withdrew her thimble and thread; she pulled a length of cotton through the needle. It will be stronger now, she promised herself.
What God has joined together—
Slowly, Angelica pulled the ragged edges of the tear together. She knew what her answer to George Armistead would be. She would save her family. If she had lost Jack, she would not shame his memory with cowardice.
“Chains do not hold a marriage together.” Angelica spoke aloud to the empty room, imagining Jack was there with her. She pulled cotton through the edges, neatly mending the rent. "It’s the threads-- hundreds of tiny threads--which sew people together through the years..."
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