“Charlotte.”

“I am sorry, Mama, but I’m tired of this wretched war.”

I wondered if she knew how close it was to ending. I’d seen Townsend only the day before. The situation for the American army in Morristown was dire, with soldiers on starvation rations and threatening to mutiny. There were even whispers that General Washington, ever stalwart, feared a total collapse.

I’d made a gain against British counterfeiting with my find that night at General Knyphausen’s, but our economy was unraveling. Congress had no power to levy taxes. Years of printing money to pay war expenses had left the Continental dollar worthless—which in turn only made paying for our war expenses impossible.

Everyone had grown weary—not just Charlotte. According to Townsend, the spirit of liberty that had fueled our early years was fading. We are fraying, he’d said at our last meeting, and I fear we’ll not last the year. The war had made enemies of families and neighbors. It had kept sons and fathers away from their loved ones and homes for much too long.

More and more it looked like the campaign that had taken Duncan to Charles Town would be the beginning of the final chapter in the war. If something didn’t change, England would soon have its colonies back.

And I was powerless to help.

At the Winterses’, puppies galloped all over the parlor, yipping and tugging at our petticoats. We sipped tea amid the furry chaos and named them one by one.

“I crown thee King Arthur,” Charlotte said, tying a blue ribbon around a brown-and-white patched puppy. She lifted the puppy up in the air. “Good afternoon, Your Royal Majesty.”

Through the window, I saw Asa with the other men. Mr. Winters was showing him a rifle. Asa rested his cane against his leg and took the weapon, sighting down the long barrel. He lowered it and said something that made Mr. Winters throw his head back and laugh.

“The big clumsy one with the sweet face looks like a Lancelot,” Lucy said. “Don’t you think, Emmie?”

I turned back to the puppies. “Yes. That must be Guinevere, then, running off with him.”

“Which was a terrible mistake,” Charlotte said. “Wasn’t it, Lucy?”

Lucy’s blue eyes widened over her teacup. “Yes. Yes, it was.”

Charlotte turned King Arthur to me. “Tell her, Your Majesty. Perhaps she will listen to a king.”

I found a smile for my two dearest friends. Asa was the one lie I hadn’t been able to put over on them. They had nothing to worry about, though. I’d given myself this time with him, but I’d always known it would end. Inside, I was already building up walls. Closing myself inside a fortress.

After a light repast of fresh bread and onion soup, Charlotte suggested a walk. We had barely started on the path when she leaned toward me and whispered, “Get it done, Emmie. Once and for all.”