by Audrey Glenn
He shivered a little. It would snow again later. A seaman could always judge the weather. He wished it were as easy for him to know what to do next.
He knew it was probably selfish to think of Helen at this time, but he could hardly stop himself. Was there any chance she could forgive him for leading David into this situation? And David had just encouraged him to visit her. David might not blame him, but Helen might. There was no way Nathaniel would follow David’s advice and try and browbeat her into changing her mind.
He should have given more thought to David’s suggestion that he stand with the Sons of Liberty. Perhaps they would prevail in not allowing the Polly to unload and the governor would be forced to allow smuggled tea back into the market. Nathaniel would give anything to have David free and Helen speaking to him again — even giving the Sons of Liberty a chance.
What could he do to get David home? Nathaniel had no clout with the magistrate, and David already had an excellent lawyer. If only he could recoup some of David’s financial losses. Nathaniel determined to go back to work immediately to figure out how the Good King George could bring the most profit. He’d write Cassandra a note explaining how David fared and then visit the women when he had better news.
Helen felt terrible watching Cassandra pace around the apartment, but there was nothing she could do to ease her sister’s pain. They’d spent the rest of the day Saturday and all of Sunday in exactly the same way.
She didn’t really want to think about the society as a distraction. She’d ruined all their plans. If she’d only listened when Jane told her not to confront Mrs. Morris! Jane would probably never speak to her again.
No, she reminded herself, Jane was too charitable for that. Jane would speak to her out of Christian goodness, even if she privately despised Helen for being so obstinate. Her cousins also would be unable to shun her completely, though they might wish she’d never come to the colonies. Eugenia might be prevailed upon to forgive her. She tried to imagine life with Eugenia as her only friend.
If Helen could only get the rest of the money. She’d still have to explain what she’d done, and the other ladies would likely want her to step down, but at least she would not have to be ashamed of having left poor Mary in an untenable situation.
How could she get the money? The tarts weren’t selling quite as well as they had initially. Their friends and family had already purchased several slices, and workers had stopped venturing out as much for food ever since the season’s heavy snowfall began. Helen also knew for a fact that there were no gooseberries to be had in the city — perhaps in even the entire colony.
She could write a letter to all the members and confess all, but this seemed a very cowardly thing to do rather than facing them in person. Rather like Nathaniel sending a letter explaining he’d seen David and not coming in person to tell them.
Nathaniel. She didn’t wish to think of him at all. How dare he accuse her of conspiring with Winthrop? She’d loathed the man and would not have laid bare any plans to him.
You told Cassandra where David went in the garden, and Winthrop overheard. The thought thudded into her mind, try as she might to tell herself Winthrop must have found out by some other means. David had told her not to tell anyone, and she’d done it anyway, so certain that Cassandra must know.
Could Nathaniel ever forgive her? How much money had he lost in the whole business? It seemed unlikely he would still want to court her after this, if he had ever planned to.
Helen was entirely wretched. She’d been the cause of all this misery, both ruining Mary’s chances and landing David in prison. Not only did she need to confess her mistakes to the other ladies of the society, she needed to tell Cassandra she was responsible for putting David in prison. She fell to her knees and prayed that God would help her.
Nathaniel spent Monday finishing plans for the Good King George and gathering the courage to visit the Beaufort home. He’d written, but David had asked him to go in person. When he finally set out on Tuesday, he discovered dense crowds had packed the streets around the Pennsylvania State House, making it difficult to get through to the apartment. As he edged through the crowd, he picked up phrases from conversations around him.
“’Tis a mockery of honest men!”
“We’ll not stand for it this time.”
“Boston will not fail us! She and New York will stand with us!”
The Polly must have docked, he realized. Someone handed Nathaniel a broadside issued by “The Committee for Tarring and Feathering,” warning that the captain of the Polly should expect swift retribution if he tried to unload his cargo in the city.
Nathaniel shouldered his way almost to the steps of the State House.
“Carter!” someone yelled.
Nathaniel turned around to see Humphrey Goodwin.
“How goes it? Come to see Captain Ayres off?”
“What’s going on in there?” Nathaniel pointed at the State House.
“They’re voting on resolutions as to how to respond. The Polly just docked this morning, but they say Captain Ayres is too afraid to step onto dry land. Ah, have you met Phineas Brand and Sebastian Linch? They’re in your line of work.”
Nathaniel bowed to the merchants. “We’ve met.”
“’Tis about time we run those tyrants out of the city,” Brand said. “I’ve paid a king’s ransom to hold my cargo in a warehouse in Chester.”
Linch nodded. “Aye, I sent mine to Virginia and had to sell it as a loss.”
They all looked to Nathaniel. “I had to dump mine,” he admitted, glancing at Goodwin, who didn’t seem to have made the connection that Nathaniel was speaking of cargo he’d invested in.
Brand shook his head. “Some of us were saying we should start a private insurance scheme amongst ourselves. We would each pay a small amount and could make claims against a general fund the next time King George decides to try and put us out of business.”
“Lloyd’s of London is the place to go for insurance,” Goodwin interjected, sounding as proud of the establishment as if it were his own.
Nathaniel blinked at the man’s idiocy. “Lloyd’s doesn’t insure smuggled goods.”
Linch cut his eyes towards Goodwin, then turned to Nathaniel. “We’re meeting to talk of this at City Tavern later, if you want to join us.”
Nathaniel felt a refusal on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t often trust other people to make decisions that could affect his business. Still, if he’d been able to insure the cargo, he wouldn’t have worried about smuggling it and David would not be in prison.
“I thank you,” he said finally. “I should be very happy to join you.”
The doors to the state house opened, and a group of men hurried out.
“We’ve passed the resolutions!” Dr. Benjamin Rush declared. A cry of approval rose up. “Follow me to the docks, and we’ll send the Polly on her way!”
Slowly the enormous crowd trickled towards the docks. Nathaniel tried in vain to work his way outside the crowd, but it was futile, and he found himself swept along with them.
He saw a man perched in a tree counting people as they passed and scribbling furiously in a notebook. The man met Nathaniel’s eyes. “This may be the largest group of people ever assembled in the colonies,” he explained. “We are witnessing history. I intend to write about it in my newspaper.”
Nathaniel bowed and continued. He wasn’t entirely sure the man was correct. Why would history care about this? He just wanted to be able to run his business and, perhaps, if he was lucky, meet a woman who would be willing to throw her lot in with him. If he was very lucky, that woman would be Helen.
He’d never contemplated marriage with any woman before. Would it take another few decades to find someone else he so desperately wanted to spend his life with, or was it possible she would consider forgiving him? Perhaps her heart would be softened if David made it out of prison.
By the time Nathaniel arrived at the dock, Captain Ayres had already been confronted a
nd agreed to leave. Another cheer sprang up among the crowd, and some people started singing a hymn. A little child in front of him waved a flag that had Benjamin Franklin’s old “Join-or-Die” cartoon painted on it. Maybe history would remember this, judging by the number of people who seemed to find the event meaningful.
Nathaniel made plans to meet the other merchants at City Tavern later in the evening and tried again to make his way to the Beaufort home. The streets were still so crowded that he spent half an hour trying to get down one street. He’d have to try again the next day.
He was unsure if he’d go along with the insurance scheme, but he would hear the other men out. Then tomorrow he would speak to Helen, though he did not plan to take David’s advice and speak sternly to her. He knew he had to convey to her what she meant to him, but the thought left his stomach in knots. He had no experience declaring love. In business he preferred the direct approach, and he would have to see if that worked best with ladies as well.
They’d rescheduled the Saturday meeting of the society for Wednesday, and the mood was very different from the first time Helen had presided. Cassandra elected not to attend in the event David was released from jail, Temperance still refused to leave her room, and Jane seemed troubled. Though she wished she could mend things with Temperance and help Jane with whatever concerned her, Helen was relieved Cassandra hadn’t accompanied her. She’d had an errand to complete before the meeting, and she wasn’t sure if Cassandra would support it.
Euphemia was the only one at the meeting in high spirits, unable to stop speaking of the events at the State House. “My father was there, did I mention? I begged him and begged him, but I could not prevail upon him to take me, though I found out later that my own maid did attend, for she was out at the market that day to purchase a new pair of stockings for me.”
Helen let her continue, hoping to prevent the inevitable moment where the society discovered her failures.
“Is that a new cap, dear?” Aunt Anne asked, passing Helen a cup of tea during a lull in Euphemia’s commentary. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear that one before.”
Helen reached a hand up and patted the cap absentmindedly. “Oh — yes.”
Finally, even Euphemia ran out of things to say. Helen stood reluctantly. “I call this meeting to order.” Patience had a quill poised to record the minutes. “I’ve something to report regarding our mission,” Helen managed to say. Jane smiled encouragingly. Helen cringed and looked away, knowing Jane would have every right to hate her when she admitted the truth.
“I made a grave error. I confronted the woman who holds the indenture we meant to purchase, despite receiving advice not to. She insists we pay her forty pounds for the indenture.” Helen paused. “I plan to resign as president of this society.”
A stunned silence followed this admission. “As it stands, we have thirty-five pounds,” Helen continued. “I’ll do anything you think best to find the remainder of the funds. In fact —” She reached up and pulled off her cap. “I’ve already sold my hair to a wigmaker. He said it was particularly fine and offered me eight pounds for it.” Her voice trembled a little at the last.
Euphemia gasped. “Oh, Helen! You are so brave! You quite inspire me.”
“Helen.” Aunt Anne came forward and hugged her. “How good you are.”
“No,” Helen wailed, “I’m not good. I insisted everything be the way I wanted and caused all kinds of trouble. I told everyone we had to sell tarts when gingerbread would have been much easier. I injured Constance by forcing her to go to that horrible fish market. I confronted Mrs. Morris after Jane told me it would be a mistake.” Listing her mistakes brought a surprising feeling of relief.
Jane stepped forward and placed a hand on Helen’s arm. “I cannot say she would have said anything different to me.”
Dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief, Helen turned to Jane. “Mrs. Morris said she would throw your family out of their home if we bothered them further.”
Jane scoffed. “Her husband will do no such thing. He doesn’t take her advice in these matters.”
Helen turned back to Aunt Anne, who was rubbing small circles on her shoulder. “I also upset Temperance by telling her about Winthrop. I thought it would be better for her to know the truth. I should have considered that I might not know best.”
“My dear, you did right in telling Temperance of his true nature. In time she’ll accept that he wasn’t the man she believed he was. Now, perhaps you should know it is forbidden to sell the indenture of a young person at a price over twenty-five pounds.”
“What?” Helen said, startled.
“It’s the law,” Patience explained. “To prevent exploitation.”
Euphemia gasped. “You didn’t have to sell your hair after all!”
Helen shook her head. The society might not need the money her hair supplied, but she’d needed to feel she was contributing something to make up for her mistakes.
“Perhaps your uncle should have a little talk with this woman?” Aunt Anne suggested.
“She doesn’t have to sell the contract,” Helen dithered.
“I think perhaps a prominent lawyer with money in hand could convince her of the wisdom of selling it, especially as she could be sued in the court herself if the girl can prove she was mistreated.”
“Oh” was all Helen could say.
“I could not bear for you to step down as president,” Euphemia declared.
“I don’t know . . . .” Helen hadn’t dared to hope they would still want her to lead.
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Patience suggested. “All in favor of retaining Helen in the office of president?” Helen held her breath.
Everyone raised a hand.
“The ‘ayes’ have it!” Patience declared.
Helen was so overcome with their trust in her that she had to sit and weep into a handkerchief. “Well,” she said finally, wiping her eyes, “We have a little more money than we need. Are there any ideas for what we should do?”
Jane raised a hand. “I suggest we continue our operation and begin purchasing the contracts of young women at the indenture market as they arrive in Philadelphia. We could find them paid employment instead.”
Helen laughed a little. “I suggest one amendment.” Everyone watched her expectantly. “No more gooseberries.” The motion was passed unanimously.
Helen returned home a little more cheerfully than when she’d left. Aunt Anne assured the society that Uncle Josiah would take care of the matter of the indenture as soon as possible and said they could offer Mary a position as a maid in their own household.
Her friends’ acceptance made her hopeful that perhaps Nathaniel might be able to forgive her also, although he’d lost far more than twenty pounds from her interference. It might take time, but once he’d recovered his losses, maybe he would be able to see past all this. Now they just needed David to return home.
Cassandra paced in the drawing room when Helen arrived. She’d convinced her sister to bathe and change her shift, but Cassandra insisted on wearing David’s wrapper.
“Is there any news?” she asked as soon as Helen entered.
Helen squeezed Cassandra’s hands. “Uncle wasn’t at home.”
“It’s been five days since I last saw my husband! I can’t wait any longer. I must go to him.” Cassandra turned toward the doorway.
“Wait!” Helen laid a hand on her sister’s arm. “They don’t even allow women in the jail; Uncle Josiah told us.”
“They’ll not be able to stop me. I must see him! Uncle’s reports are not enough — I know he would lie to me if he thought it was for my own good.”
“Westing reported David is in good spirits,” Helen countered.
Her sister scoffed. “Westing would certainly lie to me on David’s order.”
“Nathaniel has also seen him and assures us David is well.” Helen snatched the letter off a little table and thrust it at Cassandra.
Cassandra swatted the pr
offered letter away. “Perhaps the reason he wrote instead of coming to tell me is that David isn’t well and Nathaniel’s a terrible liar.”
Helen bit her lip. She had to tell Cassandra the truth. “The reason he didn’t come is that he blames me for Winthrop’s interference at the docks.”
Cassandra turned slowly to look at Helen. “What?”
Helen swallowed. “Winthrop overheard me in the garden. David asked me not to tell you about the smuggling, but I did anyway. If I’d done as David asked, Winthrop would not have known to go to the docks.”
Cassandra sank onto the couch where she’d spent so many hours during the last few days. “What have you done?” she cried, then buried her face in her hands.
Helen fell to her knees at her sister’s feet and placed her hands on Cassandra’s knees. “I’m so terribly sorry. I know this is my fault. I’ll do anything to make it right.”
“No, it isn’t your fault,” Cassandra sobbed. “This is all David’s fault. Why did he not tell me he was involved in the scheme? I feel I can no longer trust him.”
“David loves you very much,” Helen assured her. “He wants the very best for you. He invested in Nathaniel’s latest venture because he wants to buy a bigger house for you and the baby.”
“What? I never knew that either.”
“I’m sure David just didn’t want you to worry.”
Cassandra sniffed. “He did a very poor job of that.”
“If you tell him you don’t want him to keep secrets from you, he’ll listen. Do you recall the pineapple he procured last winter after you mentioned the Harrisons had one? The man doesn’t deny you anything!”
“That’s true.”
“I wish I could find a husband who loves me as much as David loves you,” Helen said wistfully. “Though perhaps not as devoted to his wardrobe and with a great deal more sense.”
Cassandra laid her hand atop Helen’s. “Is it possible you’ve already found him?”
Helen knew she meant Nathaniel. “He’ll never wish to speak to me again.”