Lorenzo and the Turncoat Read Free Page A

New Orleans! You’re getting ready to attack the British!”
    The colonel nodded. “I could sit here and wait for them to make a move or I could take the war to them. The best defense is a good offense. I’ve written to the minister of war in Madrid asking for funds and additional troops, but I’ve received no answer. Therefore, I’ve done my own recruiting.”
    â€œThat’s why you’ve been pressing me to join the army?”
    â€œI need experienced officers. My offer stands. A commission in the army at the rank of major.”
    â€œI’ll think about it.”
    â€œThink about what?” Eugenie asked. She had returned wearing a bonnet that matched her blue dress. Over her arm, she carried a pocketbook.
    The intensity in the colonel’s expression suddenly dissolved. He rose, bowed, and gave her a disarming smile. “I am trying to entice your fiancé to join the Spanish army.”
    Eugenie looked at him aghast. “I hope he told you ‘no.’”
    The colonel’s smile grew. “Not in so many words.”
    â€œStand firm, Lorenzo. Turn him down and be done with it.”
    Gálvez clucked at her. “I’m wounded,
m’ija
.”
    â€œI’m sure you are.”
    The colonel aimed a finger at Lorenzo. “I’m losing my best spy because of you. Taking her place is the least you can do.”
    â€œDon’t blame Lorenzo,” Eugenie said. “It was my decision to stop working for you. I told you Cuba would be my last trip.”
    â€œI know. And you will be sorely missed.”
    Colonel Gálvez’s extensive spy network was scattered throughout Louisiana and West Florida. Each spy worked independently and did not know the identity of others in the network. Eugenie had been part of it for the last three years.
    Lorenzo often worried that the British would arrest her. A spy’s fate was to hang on the gallows.
    Colonel Gálvez thrust out his elbow. “Shall we?”
    Arm in arm, Eugenie and the colonel headed toward the back gate.
    The possibility of a British attack on New Orleans disturbed Lorenzo. If the Spanish lost the city, the British would control the entire Mississippi River.
    Lorenzo had devoted the last three years to fighting the British, but had resigned his commission in the Continental Army, satisfied that he had done his part to help free the American colonies. He thought he had left the war behind. Now it had come to him.

Chapter Four
    A gate swung open in Hawthorne’s path, forcing him to stop in his tracks.
    A Spanish colonel stepped into the street with a woman on his arm. He closed the gate and tested it to make sure it had latched properly. He looked at Hawthorne and nodded a swift greeting.
    Was this Colonel Gálvez? It had to be. How many thirty-year-old colonels could there be in New Orleans?
    Who was the gorgeous redhead with him? Hawthorne doubted that the colonel would flaunt a lover on the streets. It was one thing to have a wife in England and a mistress an ocean away in the colonies. Hawthorne never had to worry about the two of them running into each other. But New Orleans was a small town. News of indiscretions by the colonel would leak back to his wife.
    Arm in arm, the couple strolled off at a leisurely pace.
    Hawthorne trailed behind them, maintaining a reasonable distance.
    They chatted together happily in French, completely oblivious to the fact that they were being followed. People on the street greeted them with genuine affection. Men doffed their hats. Women curtsied. A Spanish soldier saluted and the colonel returned the greeting.
    Gálvez stopped at a flower vendor and bought a bouquet of daisies. With a courtly flourish, he handed it to the red-haired woman.
    She accepted with a gracious smile.
    According to reliable sources, the colonel had married the most beautiful woman in New Orleans, a French creole named Felicité De Saint Maxent, a widow with a young