Thirteen

The glare from the sun hitting the window stung William’s eyes as he peeled them open. He scowled at the men occupying his bedchambers, but mainly at Captain Wilkes. “What is the meaning of this?” William demanded.

The soldiers aimed their wide-eyed gaze at Mercedes, seemingly perplexed and at a loss for words. William glanced over his shoulder at his wife. He sucked in his breath. In the light, she created an alluring silhouette. Although her face was scarlet, she looked absolutely breathtaking. Raven hair wildly framed her head. Her modest white nightgown was such a contrast to her hair. She appeared as pure as newly fallen snow. How could she look that way when she was exactly opposite?