Abigail tied a red ribbon on her window sash, a signal to Ian that she had information. It was too important—Germantown, the British redoubts, the Jersey attacks, the trap that was being set—and she couldn’t risk waiting. She was wary of Duncan—and Solomon, too. It seemed that the colonel wanted to control everyone—through blackmail if he had to. Duncan was cunning, he had an agenda, and he would use whoever he wanted, as long as it led to his success. The damage inflicted, the lives destroyed, really didn’t matter to him.
She readied herself to leave, planning to meet Ian at the Northeast Square. But as she reached the front door, Duncan entered the parlor.
“Where are you hurrying off to, Mrs. St. Clair?” he asked curiously.
She smiled, pretending to be embarrassed. “Nowhere in particu
