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

by Audrey Glenn

  “Winthrop Morley.” Hayes’s voice was grave.

  Nathaniel gripped the cabinet next to him for balance. Winthrop couldn’t have died.

  “I don’t know much more,” Hayes continued. “I should be allowed to see David to provide legal guidance.”

  “Why did he not write to me?” Cassandra’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “Perhaps he didn’t wish to alarm you?” Hayes suggested.

  “Idiot!” Cassandra yelled, so loud they all flinched in surprise. “He didn’t think I’d be worried when he never returned?”

  “Hush,” Helen entreated her sister. “Go and lie down, dearest. I’ll relate everything you need to know.” She knelt in front of Cassandra and took her hands.

  Cassandra raised her chin. “I could never!”

  Helen bit her lip. “Will you go to him now?” she asked her uncle.

  “Yes, immediately.” Hayes stood to go. “And I’ll be back as soon as I’ve seen him.”

  Cassandra’s hand shot out and grabbed his. “Please, Uncle — this must be a mistake. You must sort everything out and bring him back to me. David would never . . . .”

  “I’ll do everything I can,” Hayes assured her, patting her hand.

  Hayes departed, Westing following close behind, leaving the room swathed in silence a few moments.

  Helen turned to her sister. “Cassandra, please lie down. You look as if you are about to faint. Remember the baby.”

  Cassandra cradled her stomach with her hands. “All right.”

  “Wait here while I see to my sister,” Helen ordered Nathaniel. Her tone made him nervous. He would have much to answer for. How had he allowed David to get involved in the whole business?

  He paced up and down the room, mind unable to settle on any particular thought. The sight of David’s prized Chippendale chair made him cringe. Hopefully David would soon return to enjoy it.

  With a jolt, he remembered they hadn’t retrieved Winthrop’s pistol from the dock. He hoped no one would find it.

  Helen interrupted his reverie. “Tell me what happened.”

  Nathaniel related the experience of the previous night. “Winthrop was still alive when we put him in that carriage.

  “But you said David struck him with a lantern?” Helen breathed. “Oh, how could he?”

  “Winthrop was about to shoot me,” Nathaniel admitted. “It was my fault.”

  “You shouldn’t have allowed him to come!” Helen only voiced what Nathaniel already felt.

  “I know,” he said, massaging his temples.

  “How did Winthrop even know you would be there?”

  Nathaniel hesitated. “He said — he said a lady told him.”

  Helen took a step back. “How many ladies have you taken into your confidence?”

  Did she think he was calling on many other ladies? How little she knew him! “Only you,” he replied stiffly.

  Helen gasped. “I never told him any such thing!”

  “I should go,” Nathaniel suggested. Helen made no reply. Nathaniel bowed. “Please let me know if you hear something.”

  He walked past the City Tavern, wincing at the memory of meeting David there. He’d betrayed the man completely. Should he step forward and confess the whole scheme to the magistrate? If he did that, he would forfeit all his business and property.

  Helen was right to blame him. David urged him not to bring in the tea, to try standing with the Sons of Liberty, and he hadn’t listened. David was the only friend he had, and he’d ruined the man’s life.

  Nathaniel would make this right somehow. He’d go to the jail as soon as possible and offer to take David’s place. He could say he’d struck Winthrop. He had to do whatever it took to free David.

  Cassandra wasn’t able to remain in bed long. She alternated between pacing and resting on the drawing room couch when she grew tired.

  “Oh, when will he return?” Her eyes darted to the mantel clock once again.

  In vain Helen tried to get her sister to eat or take even a sip of broth. The wait seemed unbearable. Neither sister could focus her mind on any occupation.

  At mid-afternoon they heard a knock at the door. Helen sprang up to answer it, but Cassandra pushed past her to fling open the door. Her face fell when she saw that it was only their Aunt and Uncle Hayes, unaccompanied by David.

  Cassandra sagged onto the door frame. “He’s not free?”

  “Come and sit, and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  Helen held Cassandra’s hand on the couch while their aunt and uncle sat in chairs across from them.

  “I was able to see David,” Uncle Josiah began. “His valet is with him now.”

  Cassandra gasped. “Where is he?”

  “He’s being held at the Walnut Street jail under order of the governor. It seems last evening he met a friend at the docks and some kind of fight broke out. Winthrop Morley was knocked down and died as a result of the blow.”

  “What evidence do they have that my husband was involved?” Cassandra demanded.

  “It seems Winthrop left a letter to his father to explain where he was going, and the governor set out immediately once he had had a chance to read it. He arrived at the docks just as Winthrop’s coach was leaving. When he saw his son’s condition, he sent Winthrop’s coachman out to round up the men who left him, and David was picked up almost immediately off the street.”

  Cassandra waved impatiently. “Yes, but how do they know it was David and not his friend who knocked him down?”

  “According to Governor Morley there was a public altercation at High Street Market between David and Winthrop a few days ago in which David threatened Winthrop.”

  Helen blanched. “That’s true,” she said slowly, “But surely David would never . . . .”

  “Then there’s the matter that David has confessed to knocking down Winthrop,” Uncle Josiah continued.

  “No!” Cassandra cried.

  “He says it wasn’t a killing blow and that Winthrop was threatening his friend with a pistol. The constable found Winthrop’s pistol at the dock where this all happened.”

  “Couldn’t it belong to someone else?” Cassandra retorted.

  Uncle Josiah shook his head. “It’s a dueling pistol engraved with Winthrop’s monogram.”

  “Why was Winthrop trying to fire on anyone?” Helen demanded.

  Uncle Josiah spread his hands. “That part is unclear. Perhaps a continuation of the previous conflict?”

  Helen wrinkled her nose. She wondered if she should say something. “I believe I know what it was about,” she began, but Uncle Josiah held up a hand to stop her.

  “I’ve a suspicion I also know, but I’d rather not have it confirmed. I intend to represent David before the magistrate and would prefer not to have to prevaricate. David has said only that he met someone there, an act which is not illegal. No evidence whatsoever points to any significance to this meeting. If, for example, it was discovered that smuggling was going on, David would be at risk to lose all his property as well as his liberty.”

  “What of — the friend?” Helen knew it was Nathaniel, although her uncle avoided mentioning him specifically.

  “David wouldn’t name him so he could prevent him from also being imprisoned.”

  “He is willing to die to protect his friend?” Cassandra demanded.

  Uncle Josiah leaned across and patted his niece’s hand. “Don’t worry overmuch. There’s not much evidence a murder took place — just an unfortunate accident. I plan to petition the magistrate to dismiss the charges.”

  Helen didn’t want to upset her sister, but she had to know how feasible this was. “Winthrop mentioned that his father was very close to the magistrate.”

  “That is very true,” Uncle Josiah acknowledged.

  Cassandra scoffed. “Surely being the son of the Marquess of Dorset counts for something!”

  “Yes, my dear, I suspect it will. Our current magistrate has dreams to return to England before too l
ong and would not want to make an enemy of such a powerful family.”

  Cassandra looked down. “Can David return home before the trial by paying a bond of some kind?”

  “Unfortunately, bond is prohibited for those charged in a capital murder case. But never fear — I’ll do all I can to see this is resolved quickly.”

  “Uncle — I believe you practice mostly in business and estate matters of the law. Are you sure — are you quite sure that you are familiar with this kind of case?” Cassandra turned her wedding ring around her finger.

  “When I first began practicing in the colonies, I took every case I could. It’s only been in the last few years that I was able to focus on the more lucrative clients to be found in business and estate law.” He smiled to show he hadn’t taken offense to her question.

  Aunt Anne cut in. “Your uncle is very modest, my dears, but he made quite a name for himself defending all kinds of clients. He still receives letters from all over the New World asking for his legal advice!”

  “I’m quite satisfied,” Cassandra assured them. “I’m sorry to ask, but I feel as though my heart will burst from worry.”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” Aunt Anne assured her. “I would be out of my mind with worry if my husband were in a similar situation. You must try to settle your mind, however — for the baby.”

  Cassandra placed a hand on her stomach. “I’ll try,” she whispered.

  Aunt Anne turned to Helen. “Did you recall that there was to be a meeting of the society today?”

  Helen gasped. “Oh! I quite forgot. I’m sorry, but can you give them my regrets? I . . .” She paused, recalling her disastrous decision of the day prior. She would have to make a clean breast of her misstep to the other members. She should probably even resign as president — maybe even as a member of the society. “Maybe I should try after all, though I hate to leave Cassandra.” Her sister seemed barely able to support herself.

  “I could offer to stay with her, but if you will take my advice, you will postpone the meeting. Temperance has been made quite prostrate with grief over Winthrop’s death, and I fear any confrontation would be harmful to both of you.”

  “Oh dear,” Helen stammered, “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about what she must be going through.”

  “She’ll be all right,” Uncle Josiah assured her. “The attachment between them was not great. It only existed in Temperance’s mind, I believe.”

  “It was no less real to her than if it had been a recognized engagement,” Aunt Anne chided him gently. “In fact, I must return to her soon. Is there aught we can do for you?”

  Helen looked at her sister. “No,” she replied. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Uncle,” Cassandra asked as they stood to leave, “when you say you will try to move quickly, what do you mean? Could David return home today?”

  “Unfortunately, the magistrate is out of town, but he will return early next week.”

  “Next week!” Cassandra gasped. “Oh, my poor husband! May I go to him?”

  “The jail is no place for a woman of delicate sensibility,” he insisted.

  “If it is no place for me, then it is no place for him!”

  “Remember to calm yourself,” Aunt Anne reminded her. “For your baby.”

  “I’ll try.”

  After their aunt and uncle left, Cassandra couldn’t be calm, despite Helen’s attempts to soothe her. Eventually, she was able to convince her sister to take some laudanum so she could rest for the baby’s sake. She drifted off into an uneasy sleep with Helen by her side.

  Helen made her way into the kitchen and choked down some stew before returning to her own room. She couldn’t find a focus for her mind. Nothing else seemed quite as important as David being imprisoned.

  What of Nathaniel? She’d been very unfair to him earlier. David was a determined man. Nathaniel couldn’t prevent David from doing whatever he took into his head. She wished he hadn’t accused her of alerting Winthrop to his plans. Didn’t he know her better than to know she’d never do that? All she could do now was wait, try to support Cassandra, and pray that David would return soon.

  The jail refused to admit Nathaniel as a visitor until Monday. Early in the morning and with very little ceremony he presented himself to the jailer and was told to enter a large room, outside which were stationed two burly guards.

  “Jus’ raise a noise when you are finished,” one guard told him. Nathaniel nodded curtly, hoping they would not mistake him for an inmate of the facility when it was time to depart. Though if he could take David’s place, he would do so in an instant and allow the man to return to his wife.

  A few men turned when the heavy door was opened to admit Nathaniel.

  The room was large, though it didn’t seem spacious filled with at least a dozen men. A few sat in isolation, but the rest sat in a large group playing speculation with an odd assortment of buttons, pebbles, and other small trinkets in place of chips. The foul odor of the room reminded Nathaniel of being trapped below deck with sailors who hadn’t bathed in weeks.

  When David noticed Nathaniel, he threw down his cards. “Someone else can deal for a while.” Groans and protests came from the men. “Now, now, not forever — I just need a break.”

  It was shocking to see David in this much disarray; he’d lost his wig, coat, and the buttons off his waistcoat, and he was in need of a shave, though his demeanor was surprisingly jolly.

  Nathaniel found he was lost for words. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say.

  David waved a hand. “Come, it wasn’t your fault. It was foolish of me to pick a quarrel with Winthrop in such a public space. I put myself squarely in suspicion, although I never thought things would come to this pass.”

  “I should never have allowed you to —”

  David frowned. “I must stop you there. I don’t recall seeking your permission, nor do I remember you ever entreating me to involve myself.”

  “You have a family,” Nathaniel protested. “I should have found someone else.”

  “I imagine I’ll still have a family when I emerge from this pit. How is she?” David sounded pained for the first time. “Of course Westing is looking after them, but I’d feel better hearing from you as well.”

  “I’ve not seen Cassandra since Saturday, though I’ve spoken with Josiah Hayes. He says she’s keeping herself well.”

  “Hold on, do you or do you not have romantic designs on my sister-in-law? If you are truly enamored of her, I would hardly expect you to keep away at such a time. If you are not, I must beg you to cease trifling with her affections!” David crossed his arms and glared at Nathaniel.

  “I’m quite enamored of her,” Nathaniel replied, louder than he intended. Some of the card players leaned over to try and hear their conversation. He lowered his voice. “She doesn’t want to see me. She blames me for this.” Nathaniel gestured to the jail room. “Besides, you ran me off the last time I came visiting without your express permission.”

  David made another dismissive motion. “I was young and in love once. I hardly think I could have scared myself off. You cannot expect to win fair lady by acting so indecisively.”

  “You’re still young and in love,” Nathaniel couldn’t resist pointing out.

  David shot him an anguished look. “Yes, I am. Which is why I’m asking you to personally visit my wife and sister at this time and ensure they are well.”

  “I will,” Nathaniel agreed quickly. He would do what David asked even if Helen treated him like Beelzebub himself. “But wouldn’t you rather me stay here in your place?” He lowered his voice to the merest whisper. “I’ll say I’m the one who struck Winthrop, and you can go home.”

  “You must be joking!” David scoffed. “I’ve kept your name out on purpose — no sense in you getting thrown in here. Besides, you’re a little late. Westing already tried to take my place. He brought a bottle of my finest spirits to try to bribe the guard. I soon sent him packing and gave him
a round scolding for trying to dispose of my goods that way.”

  “Are you certain you don’t wish me to intercede?” Nathaniel wasn’t worried about himself. He just wanted to make amends.

  “Of course not! I know Morley is furious, but I fully depend on the magistrate to let me go free. He’s one of those toad-eaters who is always on the lookout for ways to ingratiate himself with great men.” He sniffed and examined his fingernails as if to demonstrate that he did not have a care in the world.

  Nathaniel marveled that David could manage to look so disreputable and aristocratic at the same time.

  “Say nothing,” David advised. “Bide your time. Perhaps attend a meeting of the Sons of Liberty.”

  Nathaniel began to protest but stopped himself. He might have been able to avert all this by taking David’s advice in the first place. “I’ll consider it,” he finally said.

  “And if you want my advice, you should refuse to take any responsibility for this whole thing when you speak to Helen. No matter what she says, refuse. Eventually she’ll be forced to share your views.”

  Nathaniel furrowed his eyebrows. This seemed like remarkably bad advice. He ran a hand through his hair and voiced a thought that hadn’t been far from his mind the last three days. “I can’t believe Winthrop is dead.”

  “I’d no idea I struck him that hard. I feel terrible.”

  Nathaniel could scarcely believe it himself. “Do you need anything?”

  “A hot bath, clean linens, and a shave are all I desire, but I fear they’ll have to wait a little longer. Josiah tells me the magistrate still has not returned yet.” David smiled wryly.

  “Ho there, your lordship!” one of the men called. “We aren’t gettin’ any younger!”

  “Ah, my retinue,” David said with a wink. “Thank you for coming. Please give my wife my regards.”

  Nathaniel was able to leave as easily as he entered, though he fancied he was the recipient of many suspicious glares. The jail was enormous, built to replace the overcrowded facility on High Street. It seemed the more the city grew, the more the crime did as well.