I took a moment to commit the names to memory, amazed at how easy it’d been to come by them. It wasn’t more on Monk, but it was something. I felt giddy as I imagined sharing the information with Townsend.

As coffee was served, Charlotte wanted to hear André describe the Meschianza, a grand festivity he’d organized in Philadelphia for General Howe’s departure from America, before the British command was handed over to General Clinton. The three-day event had turned André into a legend amongst fashionable society.

“Miss Shippen—she was there, was she not?” Charlotte asked, though she already knew, as the Shippens were family friends of the Winters.

“She was indeed,” André replied.

Charlotte sighed. “And now she’s married to that American general who is always in the papers, Benedict Arnold. I grow embarrassed for her.” She gave a tiny shudder. “She thought she was marrying a heroic figure. Now his honor is on the coals, and he is the favorite subject of every gossip in America.”

As Charlotte went on, I became aware of Asa bowing his head to mine. “I am glad to see you well,” he said quietly.

“Are you?” I said. He didn’t look glad. He wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were still on Charlotte. “I’m glad to see you well, too. You know, I worried about you for years. For years, I worried you’d died.”

His fingers tightened on the head of his cane. “Alas, I did not.”

“Oh, good. Mystery solved.” I tried to stop there, but I couldn’t. “Did you know that I know your uncle? That all this time, he has been a dear friend to me? That you could’ve easily contacted me?”

Long seconds passed. Duncan said something that made André laugh into his napkin.

“Yes,” Asa said at last. “I knew.”

“You knew.” I felt a shattering deep inside my chest. “You knew and you didn’t think to write? You didn’t think to send a single word to tell me you’d survived?”

He looked at me, finally. “No.” He shook his head. “I did not.”

Suddenly, I saw how I’d put him on a throne in my mind. How I’d been thinking of him as the reason I believed in the worth of every human and their basic right to liberty. But those were my beliefs. All Asa had done was put a pamphlet in my hands.

“Will you walk with me?” His gaze moved over my face and came to the scar on my eyebrow. “There’s more to say than can be said here.”