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

by Audrey Glenn

Temperance launched into a detailed account of the elaborate gown she had commissioned from French fashion plates. “And a ribbon to cross over the bodice,” she finally finished. “What about you?” she asked Jane.

  “I’m not attending,” Jane informed them.

  “I’m sorry,” Temperance said, patting Jane’s hand sympathetically. Helen wasn’t sure Jane actually mourned not being included.

  “Well, we have nearly twenty pounds,” Helen announced after counting what they had taken in so far, refraining from adding that it was no thanks to Winthrop’s interference. “Surely that will be enough to purchase the indenture.”

  Jane shook her head. “I’m afraid not. The family has heard rumors about what we are trying to do and feel they can ask for much more. They want forty pounds.”

  Helen’s mouth dropped open. “That’s beyond belief! Forty pounds is what an adult indenture would cost. You must negotiate with them!”

  “I fear doing so will only give them cause to raise the price further. They will assume young ladies with wealthy parents have access to unlimited funds.”

  “Surely not!” Helen argued. “It’s because some of our relatives are so influential that they will be likely to appease us. I’m certain Uncle Josiah will help us!”

  Helen and Jane looked over at Temperance, who shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “We must try to raise the rest of the money they ask,” Jane insisted. “The situation is growing worse for Mary.”

  An idea came to Helen. “You said this family lives next to yours?”

  Jane nodded.

  Helen turned to Temperance. “Do they have any connection to Uncle Josiah which he could use in our favor?”

  “Mr. Franklin Morris?” Jane supplied.

  “I don’t know all of Father’s clients. I know his most important client, however — Governor Morley. And I’m to open the ball with his son tomorrow night!” She clasped both hands to her chest with an expression of ecstasy Helen found almost painful to witness.

  “Temperance,” Helen began, stomach twisting. Temperance was the unspoken leader of all their friends and her cousin. If Helen offended her, she might also offend her aunt and uncle. “Are you aware that Winthrop has been stealing money from us daily?”

  Temperance crossed her arms. “I heard he appropriates a legal tax.”

  Helen frowned. “No, David insists it’s not legal. Winthrop’s invented the whole thing to steal from us.”

  Temperance gasped. “How dare you accuse Winthrop of theft as if he were nothing more than a petty criminal! You are the guilty one.”

  Helen was determined not to lose her composure and reminded herself that it was natural for Temperance to have a hard time hearing criticism about Winthrop. “Guilty of what, pray tell?” she asked, as calmly as she was able to manage.

  “You are disloyal to your king by trying to avoid lawful taxation! It’s treason!” Temperance pointed a finger at Helen.

  Jane looked as if she would try to intercede, but Helen ignored her. She couldn’t remember why she must remain calm.

  She drew herself up to her full height and placed a hand on her hip. “Cousin, need I remind you that I was born in England while you have never once set foot upon its shores? I beg you to recall that before accusing me of treachery to a king you haven’t been anywhere near.”

  Temperance gasped. “I refuse to stay here another moment to be insulted in such a manner.” She stormed out of the booth.

  That hadn’t gone very well. Temperance already knew about the tax. Helen’s interference had been superfluous.

  “You tried,” Jane whispered, squeezing Helen’s hand.

  Helen had a hard time focusing on the tart sales throughout the day. After she gave a third customer the wrong change, Jane assured Helen she could finish out the day and encouraged her to go home and finalize her preparations for the ball.

  She had no plan to primp for hours to impress anyone, since she knew Nathaniel wouldn’t be there. He’d surprised her with the newspaper and his enjoyment of tart. It would be foolish to pretend she didn’t want him to court her when he occupied her thoughts constantly.

  She did her best to focus on the matter at hand and walked briskly across town to Jane’s home. She intended to settle the matter of the indenture with the Morris family, for even if she could not convince Temperance to cast off Winthrop, she was certain she could resolve this. After all, her plans had been successful at raising an enormous sum. Just that morning David had admitted he hadn’t expected them to be able to purchase the indenture.

  Helen looked at the row of houses and recognized Jane’s at once from previous visits. Choosing at random, she knocked at the door to the right, feeling it had a more sinister aspect.

  “I’m here to see Mrs. Morris,” she announced to a servant.

  The maid, taking in the fine quality of Helen’s clothing, gave her a polite curtsy. “You’ll be wanting down that way.” She thumbed at the house on the other side. Helen hoped Jane’s family was not observing her through the windows.

  “I am here to see Mrs. Morris,” she repeated at the correct house. A young boy let her in.

  “Ma!” he screamed. “Lady to see you!”

  Helen waited several minutes for the lady of the house. “Good afternoon,” she greeted when Mrs. Morris finally appeared. “I am Miss Helen Crofton. I realize this visit is unannounced, but I’ve a proposition to make to you.”

  Mrs. Morris scrutinized Helen while Helen did the same to her hostess. She was a middle-aged woman dressed in the style of a much younger woman — many flounces and bows and a lace cap with a large red ribbon.

  “Perhaps you know my uncle, Josiah Hayes?” Helen prompted after a few moments’ uncomfortable silence.

  “Follow me.”

  That did it. Once again, Helen’s instincts had led her to accurately predict what would impress Mrs. Morris.

  Helen entered a small, overwrought drawing room stuffed with all manner of plates, badly painted landscapes, and embroidered cushions. It could have passed as a shop selling tasteless decorations.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Crofton.” Mrs. Morris pointed to a chair. “I’ve a notion of what brings you here.”

  “Very good. Is the young lady — is she here?”

  Mrs. Morris inclined her head. “She’s just upstairs, sewing. We’ve taken many such young girls out of Christian charity. They need a woman to watch over them. I shudder to think where some young girls end up when they make that precarious journey from England!”

  Helen reminded herself she must be polite at all costs, though she badly wanted to tell Mrs. Morris that she knew the goings-on here were far less than Christian in nature.

  She took a deep breath and began. “I’m a member of a charitable society. It’s our mission —” She broke off, trying to consider how to word this delicately. “We’d like to offer opportunities to young girls to break their indentures and learn a useful trade. One of our members has put forward the name of your servant as a likely candidate. Of course, we would reimburse you for the remainder of her indenture.”

  Mrs. Morris shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid we have gotten too attached to Mary to give her up. She’s become like another member of the family.”

  Helen’s smile fell. It was time to get serious. “Mrs. Morris, I understand from a very trustworthy source that Mary isn’t entirely happy here. Maybe you aren’t aware that one of your sons has been harassing her?”

  Mrs. Morris’s eyes narrowed. “That is a falsehood. I will call for her and let her tell you herself. Mary!” The woman went to the door and called in a loud voice.

  A young girl quickly descended the stairs. She was very pretty, Helen noticed, but still had the look of a child.

  “Mary, someone has been spreading rumors that you are unhappy here. Is this true?” Mrs. Morris demanded.

  Mary stared at the floor. “No, ma’am.”

  “Do you know who started these rumors?”

 
“No, ma’am.” Mary wouldn’t look up.

  “Has Mr. Jack bothered you?”

  “No, ma’am,” Mary whispered, barely audible.

  Mrs. Morris raised an eyebrow at Helen. “Are you satisfied?”

  Helen was not sure what to say. She wasn’t, but she didn’t know what else she could do. She nodded tightly.

  “Very well. Mary, be off. Now,” Mrs. Morris said, turning back to Helen, “I don’t know why you, a stranger, should be so impertinent as to come here and insult me based on unsubstantiated rumor!”

  Helen took another deep breath. “I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood. Still, our society would very much like to proceed. We could compensate you as much as twenty pounds for the inconvenience of giving up your servant.”

  “Out of the question.”

  Helen’s spirits fell. Had all their work been for naught? Jane should have been more certain the Morrises would give in when she set them on this path.

  “I couldn’t think of letting her go for less than forty pounds,” Mrs. Morris continued, “So that I might cover the wages of a hired girl until another servant can be found who satisfies our requirements.”

  Helen gaped at her audacity — to pretend she cared for Mary and then to ask for so much money. “A hired girl’s wages can be no more than four pounds for an entire year!”

  “I don’t expect a young, unmarried lady such as yourself to understand household affairs.” Mrs. Morris cocked her head and smirked. “Well, perhaps not so very young.” She shook out her overly ruffled underskirt.

  Helen ignored the barb. It would not do to reflect too much on the insults of a mature lady who dressed like an ill-favored spinster attempting to nab a husband. “There’s no way our society can pay that much.”

  “That’s a pity. Perhaps you can find a few benefactors?”

  Helen glared at her.

  “No? Well, if you change your mind, you know where to return.” Mrs. Morris stood and gestured towards the door. “Oh, and Miss Crofton? I should hate to hear any more of these rumors. My husband owns this row of buildings, did you know? If I found out that any of my neighbors were involved with spreading vicious rumors about my family, I would certainly have to ask him to evict the troublemakers. Good day.”

  Helen stormed down the street and marched towards the apartment. Mrs. Morris was the most odious woman Helen had ever encountered.

  What would happen to Mary now? Jane had attempted to warn Helen about Mrs. Morris’s nature, but she’d been certain she knew best how to handle the situation. Now she’d ruined the society’s chance to help Mary. She just knew Mary had been lying when Mrs. Morris questioned her. It was clear the girl was terrified!

  Jane and her family might also suffer as a result of Helen’s actions. She felt as if lead coated the inside of her stomach. Every step was heavy. How could she possibly face everyone from the society?

  She was so distracted that she walked into someone and nearly lost her balance. Hands seized her arms and steadied her. Helen looked up at her rescuer — and found Nathaniel looking back at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. Had she conjured him out of her mind? He was standing right in front of her home.

  Nathaniel grinned at her. “Lost in thought? Pondering your tart empire?”

  She returned a half smile. “No, nothing so grand. Are you coming up?”

  “Yes, I have business with David.”

  “At least you have his permission to be here this time,” she teased.

  Nathaniel followed her up the narrow stars, and Helen led him to the dining room where David had started working when his study became Helen’s bedroom.

  She would not interfere with their business. She had many other things to occupy her and no time to make a fool of herself over Nathaniel by barging in on his meeting. If she happened to settle herself in the drawing room where it would be impossible to miss his walking by when he left, that was just a coincidence. She needed to focus her mind on how to free Mary.

  She would hate for Nathaniel to mistakenly think she was waiting for him. She rummaged in Cassandra’s work cabinet and pulled out some embroidery she’d never gotten around to finishing.

  She’d barely set to work before Cassandra came into the room and eyed the cushion Helen was stitching. “I haven’t seen that in ages.”

  “I’ve been intending to finish it for some time now, but the tarts have kept me occupied.” Was that the sound of a door opening?

  “I think you started that when David and I were first married,” Cassandra persisted. “I forgot it entirely! I wonder that you should bring it out now.”

  “You think too much on it,” Helen insisted. “I need something to occupy my mind.”

  Cassandra smirked. “Too much weighing on you of late? Perhaps a certain captain is to blame?”

  “Cassandra!” Helen hissed. “He’s in the other room with David! He’ll hear you!”

  They heard footsteps in the hallway. Nathaniel stopped in the doorway and bowed. He motioned to her embroidery. “Is that for the stand? Planning to sell . . . whatever that is?”

  “Are you interested in purchasing?” Cassandra inquired.

  Nathaniel froze.

  “She’s teasing,” Helen explained. “This isn’t for sale — it’s a cushion I have meant to make David a present of for three years now.”

  Nathaniel stepped further into the room.

  “Oh, I forgot!” Cassandra jumped up. “Excuse me! I must speak to Peggy.”

  Helen tried to ignore her racing heart. “Would you care to take a seat?”

  Nathaniel took a seat next to her on the couch.

  “How is —” Helen began.

  “I understand —” Nathaniel started to say. They laughed. “Go ahead,” he encouraged her.

  “How is the cellar?”

  Nathaniel flexed his hands. “It’s finished.”

  She lowered her voice. “Then all is well — for the plan?”

  “Everything is in order,” Nathaniel assured her.

  “Are you scared?”

  Nathaniel waved a hand. “It’s nothing. I’ll be home early.” If he was that sure, it must truly be safe.

  Helen leaned closer. “I hope all goes well tomorrow night.”

  Nathaniel stretched one arm out over the back of the couch. “You’ll be at the ball tomorrow night.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to.” She looked down at her embroidery and realized she’d pulled the needle through in the wrong place.

  “Are you not fond of dancing?” He sounded almost hopeful.

  “I’m very fond of dancing, just not attending balls with idiots like Winthrop Morley.”

  “Oh. Yes, he is insufferable.” Nathaniel ran a finger across the initials she’d already stitched onto the cushion cover.

  “I wish some ill might befall him so that he would be forced to stop collecting his false tax.” Helen stabbed the needle into her embroidery.

  Nathaniel placed a hand over hers. “Are you sure you’re well?”

  Helen’s eyes welled up with tears. “No,” she whispered. Because of her, Mary would stay trapped with the Morrises and Jane might be thrown out of her home.

  Nathaniel swallowed. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

  Helen began to explain everything when David strode into the room and collapsed on the couch. Nathaniel snatched his hand back. Where was Cassandra? Helen had been certain speaking to Peggy was all a ruse to leave the two of them alone for a little while. Couldn’t she have occupied David as well?

  “I thought you were leaving,” David said. “Important matters to attend to and all that.”

  “I’m not in such a great hurry that I can’t stop to speak a few words to a lady.”

  David snorted. “Oh, don’t let me stop you!”

  Nathaniel turned back to Helen, who found she did not want to discuss the matter of Mary and Mrs. Morris in front of David.

  Still, Nathaniel gazed at her expectantly.

 
“I had a fight with my cousin.” This was safer.

  “Ha! I told you not to speak to her!” David taunted.

  Helen glared at him. “I doubt you could have remained silent at her professions of undying love for that cretin, Winthrop.”

  “Of course not,” David agreed. “But I also wouldn’t work myself into a passion about it afterwards.”

  “You see what I have to put up with?” she whispered to Nathaniel.

  Nathaniel grinned at her. “I’m sorry — can things be mended between you?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps she will come to her senses and see that Winthrop is horrid.”

  Nathaniel glanced at David, who had somehow produced a penknife to twirl. “Well, I must go.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  David stood in the doorway and watched.

  “Perhaps —” Nathaniel began hesitantly. “Perhaps Sunday you might accompany me for a walk in North Square?”

  “I would like that,” Helen replied, pointedly ignoring David’s scowls.

  Nathaniel bowed to her. “Good night.”

  “What was that all about?” Helen rounded on David the moment Nathaniel left.

  “He really should ask me if he can escort you anywhere. And you’re not to be alone with him again!”

  Helen gaped at him. “You are medieval! Do you mean to lock me in a tower?”

  “Do you know of any? Cassandra and I would visit you. We could do with an outing.”

  Helen stormed past him into her bedroom. She would have told Nathaniel about Mrs. Morris, she realized, even though it revealed what a complete fool she was. For whatever reason, she felt he would not think the worst of her if he knew. How had that happened? Not long ago she thought he loathed her roundly and now — well, she wasn’t sure exactly how he felt, but he certainly seemed as if he wanted to court her.

  The thought filled her with a warmth even the memory of her great failure couldn’t dispel. There was a kindness to him she hadn’t ever seen before. Had it always been there and she’d failed to notice it? She had to admit to herself that she would be severely disappointed if he didn’t want to court her after all. She was even beginning to think that she might enjoy being a merchant’s wife.

  No, she admitted to herself — Nathaniel’s wife.