The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story

by Irina Shapiro

  Teddy stroked her cheek and smiled into her eyes. “You silly goose. Did you think I wouldn’t come? I’ve been counting the minutes till I could finally clap my eyes on you. I just had a small errand to run, and it took longer than I expected.”

  Teddy reached into his pocket and extracted a small leather pouch. He held it out to her, his eyes suddenly anxious. “I hope you like it. I had it put on a chain for you.”

  Sophie pulled open the pouch and extracted a silver chain with a smooth round pendant. She held the stone up to the light, mesmerized by the brilliant colors that sparkled in its depths. It wasn’t enough to say that the stone was blue; such a simple description wouldn’t do it justice. It was a kaleidoscope of color, the flecks ranging from a deep azure to the pale aquamarine of a winter sky and the lush green of spring foliage.

  “Oh, Teddy, it’s beautiful,” Sophie gushed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s a Caribbean opal from Jamaica. The chain is long enough that you can keep it hidden from your father’s keen eyes,” Teddy joked, knowing Mr. Brewster would not approve of a gift from him. “Shall I help you put it on?”

  Sophie handed the necklace to Teddy and turned her back to him so he could fasten the clasp. His fingers felt warm and gentle on her neck, and then his lips followed their path, kissing her until she shivered.

  “We mustn’t,” she admonished him, but in truth, she wished they could remain hidden in that alley forever, safe from prying eyes. “I missed you so,” Sophie said, turning to face him. “I wish you never had to leave.”

  “Me too, Poppet, but these separations won’t last forever. Two more years at most, till Janet turns fourteen. Then I can see to my own life.”

  Sophie nodded. Janet was only twelve, and the youngest of Teddy’s sisters. Stella had married last year, and Barbara had found employment as a maid at the home of a British captain. Mrs. Mercer would have a much easier time of it once the remaining two girls either wed or found suitable employment.

  “Sometimes I wish my ma would remarry,” Teddy said. “There have been one or two interested parties, but Ma saw them off right quick.”

  “She loved your father, Teddy. She doesn’t want to be disloyal to him.”

  “You can’t be disloyal to someone who’s dead. My da, God rest his soul, brought it all on himself. Should have let those thugs kill each other, but no, he had to get in the middle, break up the fight. Well, you know where that got him. He left my ma with nothing, not even enough money in the till to bury him properly. Mr. Smithson robbed her blind when he negotiated the purchase of the tavern, gave her a fraction of its worth, and she accepted his offer and said, ‘Thank ye kindly, good sir.’ The woman doesn’t have the brains she was born with. Just gave it all away for a roof over our heads. Not even a bit extra to see us right in the world.”

  “Teddy, don’t judge her so harshly. She was grieving for your father and frightened for the future. She did what she thought was best.”

  “Which is why she should have had the wisdom to seek counsel. Should have had a man negotiate for her, not go in on her own, tears still not dry on her face. That scoundrel took her for all she was worth. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Teddy said, shaking his head in dismay. “I do go on and on, don’t I? It’s just that I’m still in a rage about the whole sorry business. I have my ma and my sisters to support when I’d rather be supporting my wife. You are the only reason I come back, Sophie. You are the shining light on the water, the beacon that guides me to shore,” Teddy said, his eyes glowing with love. “Come, let’s go take a walk.”

  Sophie threaded her arm through his and they walked out of the alley, heading toward South Battery.

  Sophie kept her head bowed, as if she were listening to what Teddy was saying with great interest, but in reality, it was to hide her face from anyone who might recognize her and feel it their duty to report to her father that she’d been seen in the company of a young man. Once they neared the harbor, there was less chance of being recognized since Horace Brewster’s acquaintances did not frequent the area.

  “When are you shipping out again?” Sophie asked, lifting her eyes to gaze upon Teddy. She hated that she worried about parting from him as soon as they were reunited, but such was the lot of a sailor’s sweetheart. Shakespeare had known nothing when he’d said that parting was such sweet sorrow. There was nothing sweet about it, only bitter hurt and lonely tears.

  “Not for another few weeks,” Teddy replied. “The ship needs repairs. She sustained some damage to the hull during the last storm.”

  “Was it bad?” Sophie asked, her heart thudding. The Sea Falcon going down in a storm was her worst fear, but Teddy shrugged it off as if it were nothing more than a spell of wet weather.

  “Nothing she couldn’t handle. She’s a tough old girl,” Teddy said affectionately. “And Captain Barker knows what he’s about. Don’t you worry about me, Poppet. I’ll always come back to you,” Teddy said, lowering his head to kiss her.

  Sophie melted into him, relishing the comforting strength of his body and his warm lips on hers. The kiss left her breathless.

  Teddy wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Can you get away for a few hours in the evening?” he asked, his voice soft and cajoling. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  “What?” Sophie asked, wondering where he might want to take her in the evening. Teddy often went to a chophouse for supper or to a tavern for a jar of ale with members of his crew, but she could hardly go with him. A woman was only welcome in a tavern if she were dining in the company of her husband, and even then, the married couples were usually seated in a separate parlor. Sophie could never go where Teddy went, not if she wished to keep her reputation intact.

  Teddy leaned closer to her, his warm breath caressing her temple. “The Sea Falcon is empty in the evenings while it’s being repaired, save for a nighttime watchman, who’s a friend of mine. I can show you the ship,” he whispered.

  Sophie’s heart leapt with nervous excitement. The few minutes they’d spent in the alley was all the privacy they were likely to get. They hadn’t been alone since they were children and hid in the cellar of the tavern while playing a game of hide-and-seek. The thought of meeting Teddy frightened and excited her at the same time. What would it be like to be away from prying eyes, to feel safe in his arms and enjoy his kisses without fear of discovery? Sophie felt a fluttering in her belly, as if dozens of anxious butterflies beat their wings in unison.

  “My father plans to stay late in the shop this week,” Sophie said, her voice catching with nervousness. Her father would be furious if she were caught, but she could conceivably sneak out and be back in her bed by the time he returned.

  “Why’s that?”

  “He’s taken on an urgent commission. With business being slow, he could hardly turn it down,” Sophie explained.

  Teddy lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Why is business slow?”

  Sophie shrugged. The last thing she wanted was to talk about the printshop, but Teddy seemed genuinely interested. “Father’s been turning business away,” she explained. “He refuses to print any seditious material for fear that he’ll be implicated should their literature be seized by the authorities. Once he turned the rabble-rousers away several times, they stopped coming. I suppose they found someone else to do their bidding.”

  “Hm, I see,” Teddy said. “Too bad, that. There are those who have coin to spare and are willing to pay to spread their discontent. Your father is a fool to let them take their business elsewhere.”

  “Father would never do anything illegal. It’s not in his nature.”

  “A printer doesn’t need to agree with the sentiments he prints. It’s a job, no more, no less.”

  “Yes, but the printshop is our livelihood, and should it be shut down, we’ll be destitute,” Sophie replied.

  “Of course. I understand,” Teddy said, the thoughtful look in his eyes replaced by a merry twinkle. “So, will you meet me
, then?”

  “What time?”

  “At dusk, by Gray’s Wharf.”

  “I’ll be there,” Sophie promised. They were near the printshop now and it was time for her to go in since it was almost noon and her father would expect to see her at the dinner table.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Teddy said. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it formally before walking away, his stride purposeful and his greatcoat billowing in the breeze like the sail of a ship.

  “I’ll be there,” Sophie whispered, and hurried home.

  Chapter 7

  Gray’s Wharf was deserted, the only sounds the lapping of water against wooden hulls and the creaking of masts as they swayed in the wind. A three-quarter moon glowed sullenly from behind passing clouds, casting an eerie light on the black masts silhouetted against the dusky sky, the crossbars like ghostly limbs reaching outwards from skeletal bodies. A single lantern on the deck of the Sea Falcon cast a pitiful orb of light that beckoned Sophie forward. She huddled deeper into her cloak and peered into the gathering darkness, relieved to see Teddy striding toward her. Even in the dark, she could see the smile on his face and allowed herself to relax. With Teddy there, there was nothing to fear.

  Teddy wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, brushing his lips against her temple. “I’m sorry. Had to stop for this.” He showed her a dark-colored bottle that had a wide bottom and a narrow neck.

  “What is it?”

  “A bribe.”

  Teddy took her by the hand and pulled her up the narrow gangplank and onto the deck of the Sea Falcon. The deck rolled gently beneath her feet and she grabbed onto Teddy’s arm for fear of losing her balance. He chuckled and guided her toward the bridge, where a burly sailor sat on a barrel, watching their approach with interest. He was armed with a musket and had a pistol tucked into the waistband of his breeches. Teddy held out the bottle, and the man snatched it eagerly.

  “Madeira?” he asked, licking his lips in anticipation.

  “From Portugal,” Teddy replied. “Only the best for you, Roy.”

  He took a healthy swig and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Thank you, my friend. This will get me through the next few nights.”

  “Enjoy.”

  “And who is this lovely lady?” Roy asked, his tone implying that Sophie was anything but.

  “You just mind your own business and we’ll get on just fine,” Teddy replied archly.

  “All right, all right, don’t get yourself upset, Ted. I was only being friendly-like.”

  “No need to be friendly. Just turn a blind eye, friend,” Teddy replied, giving Roy a conspiratorial smile. “My lady wants to see where I spend my days when I’m away from her.”

  “Nothin’ wrong with that,” Roy said. “Wish I had me a lady who’s so interested.”

  “Clean yourself up a bit and you just might find one,” Teddy teased.

  “Not all of us can be as pretty as you are, lad. Go on, then. I’ll be right here, with my other love.” He raised the bottle in a silent toast and took a swig.

  “Come, Sophie, let me show you around,” Teddy said, placing his hand on the small of her back as he guided her toward the prow of the ship. He stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist as she looked out over the harbor. A chill wind pulled at her cloak and hair and nipped at her cheeks. Sophie turned her face into its breath, wondering if that was how it felt to be out at sea. She was more comfortable with the rolling of the deck now, but the creaking of the wood sounded ominous to her ears. It was as if the ship were a living thing, a crotchety old woman who wasn’t pleased with their presence.

  “Let’s go down,” Teddy said. “It’s cold out here.”

  Teddy lifted an unlit lantern from one of the hooks and coaxed a flame into life before leading her down narrow steps into the bowels of the ship. The light of the lantern did little to penetrate the pitch-black of the hold. The light shifted from side to side as the lantern swayed in Teddy’s hand, casting odd shadows onto the thick walls and the empty hammocks that swung gently, as if cradling ghostly occupants. There was very little space between the hammocks, and despite being empty, the hold smelled of stale sweat, human waste, and loneliness.

  “Is this where you sleep?” Sophie asked, looking at the neat rows of hammocks and shivering inwardly. She couldn’t imagine spending months on end in such close proximity to other people, not only during the day, but even at night.

  “Yes. It’s quite comfortable, really,” Teddy assured her, but she didn’t quite believe him. He was the type of person who always made the best of any situation and didn’t dwell on the things that upset him; instead he worked to resolve them to the best of his ability. Teddy was a fighter, a survivor, someone who didn’t allow hardship to define him. She supposed it was those qualities that had endeared him to her when she was a child. He always made her feel as if nothing was too difficult to overcome.

  They left the sleeping quarters and made their way to the cargo hold, which was empty and dark, like the yawning mouth of a cave. A narrow cell was situated behind the stairs, the door fitted with a metal grille and an iron latch.

  “What’s that for?” Sophie asked, shuddering involuntarily.

  “It’s the brig,” Teddy explained. “It’s not as bad as all that,” he said, sensing her unease. “I’d take incarceration over a flogging any day,” he joked.

  “Teddy, can we go up?” Sophie pleaded, her voice swallowed by the ominous creaking of the ship. “I’m frightened.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry, Poppet. I thought you’d want to see where I spend my days and nights.”

  “I do, but I’m sure it’s a lot more cheerful when the sun is out and when there are other people aboard.”

  The walls of the hold seemed to be closing in on her, stoking her anxiety. She longed to be outside in the cold air with the meager light of the moon lighting the harbor.

  “Come.” Teddy took her hand and led her back toward the ladder. “Up you go.”

  Sophie inhaled deeply the moment she was back on deck, thankful to be outside. She looked toward the main mast, where Roy was nursing his Madeira, his gaze fixed on the spiderweb of rigging above his head. Sophie turned toward the gangplank, but Teddy pulled her back.

  “Wait, there’s something else I want to show you,” he said softly. He led the way toward the back of the ship.

  “This is called the stern, and this is where the cabins are. These two are for the quartermaster and the doctor. It doubles as his surgery. And this one is the captain’s cabin.” He opened the door and invited her to follow him inside.

  The captain’s quarters were a surprise. The cabin was roomy, and the back wall had a row of windows that would make it light and airy during the day. There was a good-sized bed hung with heavy maroon hangings, a massive desk, a high-back chair, and a bookshelf filled with well-read volumes. There was even a rug on the floor and several potted plants on the windowsill. Unlike the dark, cramped quarters of the crew, the cabin was cozy and comfortable, a pleasant refuge from the daily chaos of life aboard a ship.

  Teddy shut the door and set the lantern on the desk, then removed his hat and shrugged off his coat. He approached Sophie slowly, his fingers nimble as he untied her cloak and tossed it onto the bed. His lips were warm and soft on hers and he pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest.

  “Teddy, I…”

  “Shh,” Teddy whispered against her lips. “No one will bother us here.”

  “I don’t think…”

  Teddy took a small flask out of his waistcoat pocket and unscrewed it. “Here, have a nip.”

  “What is that?”

  “Portuguese Madeira. I siphoned some off for us,” he added with a grin. “Drink.”

  Sophie took a sip of the wine. It was thicker and sweeter than the wine she was accustomed to, but she could taste its potency. A small glass of this would be enough to make her quite drunk. She took one more sip and handed the flask back to Teddy. “I don’t
like it.”

  He laughed softly and took a few sips. “I do.”

  Teddy set the flask aside and pulled her to him again, his lips finding hers. This kiss was different from the tender kisses they’d shared over the past few years. It was urgent, demanding, and a little frightening. Teddy’s hand crept up to cup her breast, his thumb massaging her nipple through the layers of fabric. She knew she should put a stop to this, ask Teddy to walk her home, but the desires he was stirring within her were new and exciting, and she gave herself up to the kiss, convinced there could be no harm in a few moments of innocent passion.

  Teddy walked her backward toward the bed and pushed her down, his mouth never leaving hers as he continued to caress her. She hardly noticed when he pulled out her tucker and slid his hand inside her bodice, cupping her breast and freeing it from its constraints. Sophie gasped as Teddy flicked his tongue over the tip of her nipple, then closed his lips over it and sucked it into his mouth like a hungry babe.

  “Oh Teddy,” she moaned as he continued his tender exploration, his hand sliding beneath her skirts and moving up her stockinged leg and beyond. Teddy’s fingers brushed the bare skin of her inner thighs, then crept further, sliding between her legs. Sophie cried out in alarm, but Teddy silenced her with a kiss, his fingers sliding into her moist center and probing her in a way that was shockingly intimate. Sophie knew this was her cue to stop, to demand that he respect her wishes and take her home, but she couldn’t find the strength to ask him to stop. The feelings surging through her were like nothing she’d ever experienced. They were urgent and surprisingly pleasurable. She didn’t want him to stop; she wanted him to continue.

  Sophie had always wondered what it would be like to be married, to share a bed with a man and be expected to perform her wifely duty. She didn’t know precisely what the act entailed, but she understood the basic principle and had found it shocking in the extreme—unpleasant at best, horribly embarrassing and painful at worst. But over the past year, the idea of Teddy touching her intimately hadn’t seemed as mortifying, and the prospect of bringing him pleasure filled her with joy. She’d do whatever it took to keep him happy, to be a good and loving wife, and if loving him meant allowing him access to her body, then she was more than willing. If what he was doing to her was a taste of married life, then she was ready.