You hated being lied to. You could stomach a lot of things, but not lies. It made you think that people believed you were stupid. And lately there had been a lot of lies floating around Whitehall. It upset you and though you tried to hide it, no one seemed to notice anyway. Well, no one except Major Hewlett, the British officer billeted in your father's home and the one officer you didn't despise. He was the only one to realize that something wasn't right with you.

"Something troubling you, Miss Woodhull?" he asked you one evening as you lifted your keys from the piano with a sigh. The major had been teaching you when he wasn't busy. "Do you think I'm an idiot, Major?" you replied, making his brows furrow. "Of course not." You nodded. "Then why does everyone treat me like I'm stupid? I'm not stupid, Major Hewlett."

"Whatever are you talking about?" You finally met his gaze. "People are lying to me. Over things that seem...unimportant. Or at least of very little consequence to me should I know the truth." Hewlett's eyes widened slightly and asked again what you meant. "I know Abraham isn't traveling to York City for his studies. My brother is as stubborn as a mule and never do something our father wanted him to do, no matter how desperate. He would find another way. I know he's going for another reason, but no one will tell me because they think I'm too young to understand."

Hewlett's cheeks turned a little red, telling you that he knew more than anyone else. "Miss Woodhull, I can guarantee that I, personally, had no intention of making you feel this way. The information I have is dangerous to anyone else who knows. I would not put anyone in danger if I had a choice." You nodded. While you were still upset by the secrecy, you did understand why Hewlett at least lied to you. That didn't mean you liked it.

You could feel Hewlett studying your expression. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps, Miss Woodhull, I could teach you the inner workings of military strategy? Then maybe you would feel a bit more included in everything happening and you wouldn't be placed in danger by knowing things you shouldn't. You may be young, but you have a sharp mind that I believe would be quick to understand strategy. In addition to our piano lessons, of course." You smiled a little. "Thank you, Major. I appreciate that. Shall we beginning tomorrow?" Hewlett nodded before giving a little bow and leaving you to your own devices.

Toward the end of the next day, you sat at the piano next to the major again. Your fingers glided over the keys while he listened, occasionally correcting you. In between corrections, he spoke quietly about what he planned to teach you. You knew your father would have a fit, so you made certain to only speak in hushed tones. Granted, you were sure your father now thought that you and Hewlett had some sort of romantic interest in each other, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was too old for you, in your opinion anyway.

"What I don't understand is why, when stuck in a stalemate, you don't send a few unwounded soldiers around the enemy line to sneak up behind. It would make sense to surprise the enemy. Wouldn't it?" The major gave you a little smile and nodded. "Very good. I knew you would catch on quickly, though that maneuver is usually reserved for the Queen's Rangers. The King's Army doesn't see it as a civilized tactic." You felt a sense of pride well up in your chest. It was the first time you'd been praised for your mind rather than the qualities you would have as a wife.

From then on, every evening, you and Hewlett would sit and he would teach you. You listened with rapt attention. Your father had yet to say anything, but you could almost see him trying to piece something together about your relationship with Hewlett. You didn't let it stop you. You didn't care what other people thought. You were learning and felt like someone was finally seeing you as more than a young lady. Someone was finally seeing that you could handle knowing what was happening in the world. Major Hewlett soon become your closest friend and confidante.