A Lady to Lead (Sisters of the Revolution Book 2)

by Audrey Glenn

  A Lady to Lead

  DAUGHTERS OF COLUMBIA BOOKS

  © 2020 Audrey Glenn

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  More from Audrey Glenn

  SWEET ROMANCE BY AUDREY GLENN

  Historical

  Sisters of the Revolution with Diana Davis

  A Gentleman’s Daughter

  A Lady to Lead

  Freedom’s Ring

  Liberty’s Charge

  Integrity’s Choice

  Sisters of the Revolution Extra

  A Colonial Christmas 99¢ holiday short story collection

  Contemporary sweet romance by Diana Davis

  Her Reluctant Rock Star

  COZY MYSTERIES BY DI DAVIS

  Lori’s B&B

  1. Inn Over Her Head

  2. Inn Trouble

  3. Inn Vain

  4. Inn Dire Straits

  5. Inn Danger

  Dusky Cove B&B Cozy Collection (books 2-5)

  Ray’s Gifts

  6. The Gift of Grift

  7. The Gift of Lift

  8. The Gift of Rift

  9. The Gift of Thrift

  Be sure to join Audrey’s mailing list to be the first to know about her new releases! Also get fun bonuses from this book, book recommendations, freebies and more!

  http://love.didavisauthor.com/newsletter/

  A Lady to Lead

  Cover

  Front Matter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Thank you for reading!

  More from Audrey Glenn & Sisters of the Revolution

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Helen Crofton readjusted her tan and floral jacket for the third time and made absolutely no difference to her appearance. The jacket was fine — it was Helen that was discomfited. In another hour, her sister Cassandra would nominate her as president of their charitable society, and they could finally do some good. Or something at all.

  If the other young ladies accepted her, that was. At least her dark hair looked well — powdered and curled in the latest fashion. She’d been practicing looking friendly as well.

  Helen closed the door to her bedroom and followed her brother-in-law’s voice to the drawing room, recently repainted in the gray-blue color he favored.

  David Beaufort stood back to admire the lines on his latest acquisition. “What a remarkably elegant chair.”

  “Was it worth the time you spent deliberating, dearest?” Cassandra asked. Her tone carried a note of teasing, as if they hadn’t been subjected to David’s agonizing for weeks.

  “Don’t you think so? You can sit turned any way you like.” He sat to demonstrate, pivoting from right to left while leaning against each side of the backrest in turn. “Perfect for parties. I can speak to your aunt and then turn to Dr. Rush with no discomfort at all!”

  “Hmm,” Cassandra said. She massaged her lower back.

  “Oh — you should sit, my love.” David sprang from the seat and beckoned to his pregnant wife to take his place, helping her into the chair.

  “Are you ready?” Helen interrupted, stepping farther into the drawing room.

  David whirled around. “Ah, Helen! You should have a turn also!”

  His smile was infectious. “It’s a lovely chair,” Helen conceded. “Perhaps I can try it later.”

  “Do you want to leave now?” Cassandra asked.

  “I don’t want to risk being late,” she explained.

  “Leaving so soon? Let me send Westing down to the stables to order our coach.” David started for the door immediately.

  “No need,” Cassandra called out before he could leave. “We can walk down and order the coach ourselves.”

  “Westing doesn’t mind going.” David turned back. “He could use the fresh air.”

  “As can we.” Cassandra used the arm of the new chair to push herself up. David rushed back to help her the rest of the way to her feet.

  Helen eyed the clock on the mantel.

  “Don’t forget to order the coach,” David admonished. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby. It’s a long walk to the Hayeses’ home.”

  “We’ll be perfectly safe for the entire mile, I assure you! Now, what will you do while we’re gone?”

  David sat in his new chair again. “Visit the coffee room and then collect Nathaniel for dinner.”

  This caught Helen’s attention. “Captain Carter?” she groaned. “Is he to dine with us?”

  “I told David he could invite a friend,” Cassandra explained.

  “I thought Captain Carter was a business associate.”

  “I like him, and it is my birthday,” David pointed out.

  “You couldn’t think of anyone else in Philadelphia to invite? What about Dr. Rush?”

  David opened his mouth to respond, probably something about how Helen didn’t care for Dr. Rush either, but Cassandra used one finger to lift his chin. She leaned down to kiss her husband, and Helen glanced away for decency’s sake.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to escort you?” David asked, and Helen knew it was safe to look again.

  “Certainly not. Enjoy the coffee room. And your chair.”

  “Be careful, please, dearest.” David kissed Cassandra’s hand then looked to Helen. “Good luck today.”

  Helen nodded. “Oh — thank you.” Luck would be irrelevant if they were late.

  “Come,” Cassandra said. Fastening their cloaks, they made their way down the narrow stairs from the second-floor apartment over their uncle’s law office. Helen didn’t see Uncle Josiah among his clerks to bid him goodbye. Perhaps he was in his private study or in court.

  The ladies began for their aunt and uncle’s home in the chilly October air. In front of the stable where their coach and horses were housed, Helen took care to walk around a pile of horse droppings. Cassandra walked past the stable without stopping. “Didn’t you tell David we would ask for the coach?” Helen asked.

  “I told him we could order it. I didn’t say we would.”

  Helen laughed. “Very clever misdirection.” Cassandra was determined not to be wrapped away in linen until after the baby came.

  “You needn’t race there,” Cassandra chided. “We’re quite early.”

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be late.” Helen forced herself to walk at what felt like a snail’s pace.

  “All will be well,” Cassandra assured her. “I’ll nominate you as president, and I’m certain Patience or Constance will second it.”

  “But will they vote for me, or will they all wish to see Temperance reelected instead?”

  Cassandra looped her arm through Helen’s. “I doubt
Temperance wants to be president again. She seemed to lose interest very quickly.”

  “You’re too polite to say we accomplished nothing under her tenure! Temperance wasted every meeting talking of balls and beaus. How can we even call ourselves a charitable society?” Helen scowled at the memory.

  “Spending an hour in conversation with our friends is not completely wasted time,” her sister pointed out.

  “Your friends,” Helen said in an undertone. “I don’t think any of them like me.”

  Cassandra shook her head. “We’ve talked about this. They do like you.”

  “Then why did no one support my ideas? I suggested we hold a subscription ball to raise money for a statue of William Penn —”

  “ — which Patience rightly pointed out would not be sufficiently profitable,” Cassandra interrupted.

  “I also suggested we beautify the grounds surrounding the potter’s field in North Square.”

  “Even you didn’t want to dig about in the dirt.”

  “Well, we did absolutely nothing to improve the city or help its residents. I can’t bear to listen to Temperance describe her dance partners and wardrobe every week for another year. I’m determined that this year we’ll do something.”

  “We shall,” Cassandra reassured her. “The other ladies might feel the same way. You should encourage everyone to speak up with her thoughts on what we could do.”

  “If they had any ideas, they would have spoken up by now,” Helen retorted. She supported Cassandra over a crack in the road.

  “Not everyone has your ability to express themselves openly. Try to listen to the other ladies before pushing ahead with your own ideas.”

  Helen was silent for a moment, considering her sister’s words. “I think a great deal about my ideas before I present them. Are they really terrible?”

  “No! You have wonderful ideas! I’m only asking you to listen to the other ladies, not stay entirely silent.”

  “I’ll try,” Helen conceded. “Though I won’t settle on a terrible plan for the society in the name of harmony. If I’m even elected president,” she added as an afterthought.

  Despite Cassandra’s leisurely speed, they arrived at the Hayeses’ brick home plenty early for the meeting. Ginny, a maid, answered the door.

  “How is your mother?” Helen asked, handing over her cloak to Ginny.

  “Dr. Drinker’s been by to see her. Says her heart is weak.”

  “Oh dear, perhaps we can visit her soon,” Cassandra offered.

  “Thank you; she would like that.” Ginny curtsied before leading them in.

  Helen couldn’t resist smirking at her sister. Dr. Drinker had been very pointed in his attentions to Cassandra before she married David. Cassandra blushed and wouldn’t meet her eyes. She always insisted the relationship was strictly professional.

  Their cousin Patience Hayes sat at a table in the elegant, green-paneled drawing room, scribbling away. She glanced up when they walked in and smiled politely before returning to her work. “Is it time already? Temperance should be down soon. I have to finish this volume of Virginia legal cases for Papa’s trial. I’ve managed to find one instance where a general court prevented a magistrate from setting aside a jury’s verdict, but I’d like to find a few more.”

  “Your father is very fortunate to have your assistance,” Helen said, taking a seat on the couch next to Patience.

  Patience shook her head wryly. “With no sons, he has no other options. He says most of his current clerks don’t have much promise.”

  “You would be an asset if he had half a dozen sons.” As a child, Helen had often sat in her own father’s lap while he spoke to his steward. Sometimes he would ask her opinions. How adult and respected he’d made her feel! Patience was blessed to have a father who trusted her to do research for him.

  Jane Allen arrived next, dressed in a simple gray gown befitting her father’s Quaker faith. She quietly took her seat.

  Helen’s stomach churned. Not much longer now and she’d find out if she would be in a position to make changes in the society.

  Temperance Hayes glided into the drawing room, her sister Constance trailing behind. Helen had often wished to have a small portion of her cousins’ dazzling beauty.

  “Are we all here?” Temperance took a chair prominently placed near the fire. “I’ll ring for tea.”

  Euphemia Goodwin burst into the room. “I’m ever so sorry: my dancing master kept me so long! Am I late?”

  “Not at all,” Helen reassured Euphemia, who took her seat as well.

  “Put that book away, Constance,” Temperance admonished her sister. “I have an announcement.”

  Constance dutifully stuffed a novel behind her back and looked expectantly towards Temperance.

  “I want you all to know that I shan’t run for reelection as president. I’ll be unable to devote the time required, as I shall soon enter a different sphere of life.”

  Patience’s lips tightened.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Euphemia asked, eyes wide.

  Temperance toyed with a lock of hair. “I can say no more. Nothing is yet official.”

  “She plans to be married,” Constance whispered loudly.

  Euphemia squealed and clapped. “How wonderful! Who is the man?”

  Temperance lowered her voice. “As I said, nothing is official, and it would be extremely improper of me to say more. I just wanted all of you to know that the only thing that could possibly prevent me from carrying on with the noble work of this society is an even higher calling. I’m certain I can trust each of you not to spread this about before it’s settled.” Temperance sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap like royalty.

  Temperance must have finally captured Winthrop Morley’s attentions. She’d been angling to marry the governor’s worthless scoundrel of a son for as long as the sisters had known her.

  “Should we call for nominations for a new president?” Patience suggested.

  “I nominate Helen,” Cassandra said quickly. Helen observed the other ladies’ reactions. Jane was grave as always, while Constance nodded slowly. Temperance seemed surprised, but Patience smiled approvingly.

  “How wonderful!” Euphemia declared. “I second the nomination!”

  Helen beamed at her. She hadn’t expected support from that quarter, but she vowed she would never again be annoyed with Euphemia’s prattle.

  “Anyone else?” Patience asked. Helen reminded herself to breathe.

  No one suggested another name.

  “All in favor?”

  All hands raised. Helen looked around the room at the other ladies and her heart swelled.

  “Very good; the ‘ayes’ have it. Helen, you are our new president.”

  Helen stood hastily and shook out her petticoat. She tried to remember what she’d planned to say if actually elected. “Thank you for your trust in me. I hope I shall honor this society by my efforts. I’d especially like to choose a charitable project we could begin immediately.”

  Euphemia hung off her chair and frantically waved one hand in the air, dainty mouth pursed with excitement. “I just know you’ll do an admirable job, Helen, and I’m delighted to join all of you in this righteous endeavor. I think there’s a great deal wrong with this city that we young ladies can set to rights, for it’s not just the gentlemen of Philadelphia who are able to enact reforms. In fact, I was just saying to my father —”

  “Thank you, Euphemia,” Helen said quickly. Euphemia was unlikely to stop talking without help. “Perhaps you can tell us what you said to your father after the meeting.”

  Euphemia threw her hands over her face. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, her words muffled.

  Helen smiled politely at her. “Are there any ideas for projects?”

  “We could knit caps for the poor,” Constance suggested. “It must be very troublesome to be poor when it is this cold.”

  Helen didn’t want to admit in front of the accomplished Hayes sisters that n
either she nor her sister could knit.

  “That’s certainly one idea,” Helen said, mindful of her sister’s advice not to force only her own ideas. “Any others?”

  Jane raised a hand. “I’ve become aware of a young girl, just fifteen, who arrived from England in the spring. She has become the recipient of some very improper attentions from her master’s son, which have made her very unhappy, but her contract is in force for six more years.”

  Helen’s breath caught. She’d very nearly been sold into indenture with her sister when they’d first arrived in Philadelphia. How many nights had she laid awake trying not to imagine what could have happened to them if their uncle hadn’t arrived in time to rescue them?

  “I feel for her most intensely!” Temperance declared. “This must be our project.”

  Helen tried not to let her impatience show. Temperance had had her chance to help others when she was president, and Helen had respected her position. She deserved the same.

  “We’ll put it to a vote,” Helen announced. To her relief, this motion also passed unanimously.

  “How can we raise money for the contract?” Patience asked. “Indentures for a young person can cost as much as twenty-five pounds.”

  “I’ll ask my father to give us the money!” Euphemia offered.

  “I think, perhaps, we should raise the money ourselves,” Helen replied. “It won’t be truly our work if we ask the men in our lives to pay for it.”

  “Oh,” Euphemia sighed. “Twenty pounds is such a sizable sum! But — oh! We might each sell our hair! My maid told me that a really fine head might garner five pounds, and there are seven of us here — we might almost free two servants!”

  Helen wasn’t the only lady to automatically raise a hand in protection of her hair. She was proud of her abundant brown tresses — perhaps a pious person might say too proud. Surely there was another way.

  “Very admirable sentiment,” she managed. “Any other ideas?”

  “We could sell a baked good in the city market,” Jane suggested.

  “Oh, yes!” Helen said. “Our father used to host a fête every year to benefit our poorest tenants, and Cassandra and I always contributed to the baked goods sale.”