(FYI: I am changing the color of quoted dialogue from [color=007236]green[/color] to [color=tan]tan[/color].  It appears easier to read.  If it isn't please tell me and I'll switch back.)

Keziah explained about the death of her husband, solemnly adding, [color=tan]"How can you call me a good woman when I let my husband die?"[/color]

Taking a chance on it being too familiar, William scooted closer until he was almost falling from the edge of his chair and took Keziah's hands in his again.  "You didn't kill your husband.  You didn't kill Charles.  His fever ... it wasn't your fault."  He wanted to remind her about the germs about which he'd spoke when they tended the now one armed Militiaman, but it wasn't the right time.  She went to her room and began changing into her night clothes, and while he shouldn't have, William took a few peeks her direction in an attempt to get a view of her in fewer layers.  Although he got a glimpse of her in her undergarments, it wasn't exactly an erotic moment compared to the ladies undergarments of the 21st century.

When Keziah returned, looking more comfortable and in a more familiar state than that in which a strange male should have seen her, she asked, [color=tan]"Will I ever get home?"[/color]

"Yes ... [i]yes![/i]" William reassured her, again taking her hands into his.  He tilted his head into her line of sight, getting her to look into his eyes while he smiled and stressed, "I promised your brother that I would protect you.  No harm will come to you, Keziah, so long as I am with you.  I [i]promise[/i]."

There was a knock at the door, which cracked open a bit.  

"Excuse me, sir ... ma'am," the familiar voice of the Sergeant spoke from out of sight.  His tone was far more polite than William had heard it to date as he stuck his head inside and continued, "The Colonel would like to speak to the gentleman, please."

William reassured Keziah that everything was fine, that he'd be right back.  And less than an hour, he was ... but with an expression on his face that left little doubt as to how his meeting with the officer had gone.  After pacing about for a moment, searching for and finding [i]and[/i] finishing off the last of the flask's contents, then dropping into his chair near the fire again, William looked to Keziah with concern.  

"They've moved the Howitzer's to the front lines ... and the Squad leaders are ... [i]have[/i] been briefed," he told her in a low volume.  "Scouts were sent around the Bottleneck even before we left for the Tyler Farm ... to quietly rally rebels inside the city ... to prepare for a dawn attack on the Bottleneck."

He let his head fall back onto the chair, staring again at the plank ceiling as he thought back to his history.  When he looked to Keziah again, he told her, "Most of the British forces were--"

He paused, remembering that he was wasn't speaking of the long passed year of 1775 but was actually [i]in[/i] that year.  He continued, "They [i]are[/i] in the north of the city ... to protect against an attack by sea ... from across the channels.  There're only enough Redcoats at the South Wall to stop raids ... like the one I was injured in ... the one that led to us meeting."

William leaned forward to finish, then hesitated.  He stood and went to a window, peeking out before moving to yet another and looking out it as well.  He returned to Keziah, sitting and leaning in very close.  "My loyalties are still being questioned ... so they've put extra Guards on the house.  Keziah ... I can't let those guns be used against the South Wall.  It may not sound like much, just two guns.  But the wall wasn't built to withstand cannon fire.  It will fall, the Militia will enter Boston."  He contemplated a moment before concluding, "I don't know what will happen, whether the Militia will prevail or whether the British will push the Patriots back.  But ... history could be changed, and--"

He stopped short, literally biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from saying what he'd been about to reveal to her: if history was changed here, if the Patriots took Boston or if the Redcoats succeeded in not just pushing the rebels back but in also taking the territory to the south, that could have a significant effect on the yet-to-be-made British plans to send troops to New York next year after the Siege of Boston [i]really[/i] ended.  And William's Hessian ancestor was part of that force attacking Manhattan ... the ancestor who would bring with him a very important musket that -- William was certain -- was the reason he was here with Keziah now.  

"History must remain as it is, Keziah," he stressed with a quiet but firm tone.  "Will you help me?"

He listened to her response, then stood and moved to the home's front door again, calling for the Sergeant who he knew was on duty still.  When the enlisted man arrived, William said loud enough for the woman behind him to hear, "Sergeant, I would like to be able to enjoy what might be my last night alive with my wife ... if you know what I mean."  The Sergeant glanced over William's shoulder at the Hessian's [i]wife[/i], even allowing his gaze to inappropriately lower to ogle her body before acknowledging his understanding with a devilish smirk.  William continued, "Would I be asking too much to have your men pulled back a bit ... out of, um ... [i]hearing[/i] range?"

The two men talked more in whispers for a moment before William closed the door and turned to look to Keziah.  He crossed to stand just out of her reach before saying, "So ... for me to get to the guns tonight after most of the camp has gone to sleep ... I need the Guards outside to think I'm here still ... [i]spending time[/i] with my wife."