“Come, let’s get him indoors,” Teddy said quietly. “He’ll be hungry when he wakes, and he could use a wash.”
Sophie rushed to the farmhouse, her feet barely touching the ground in her haste. She burst into the house, panting with exertion as she shook off her cloak and peeled off her gloves, her heart thumping with excitement.
“What’s happened?” Molly cried.
“It’s Teddy,” Sophie exclaimed, still breathing heavily. “He’s back. With Theo.”
“God be praised,” Molly cried. “Well, this is cause for celebration if there ever was one.”
“They’re hungry and tired. We’ll need hot water and something soft to feed Theo. Is there any porridge left over from breakfast?”
Molly laid a restraining hand on her sleeve. “Sophie, Theo can have a slice of buttered bread and a cup of milk, and I’ll heat the leftover stew for Ted. Sit down for a moment and gather your wits,” Molly said kindly. “You’re in such a state, you’ll frighten the child.”
Sophie did as she was bid and sank onto the bench, her gaze fixed on the leaping flames in the hearth, her mind only now beginning to absorb what Molly had said. Theo was a year old. He’d have teeth, not the bare gums of a newborn baby. Perhaps he even had some speech. He was no longer the baby that had been taken from her but a little boy, a person in his own right.
When Teddy finally approached the house, Sophie stepped outside and positioned herself on the threshold, anxiously waiting for him to dismount. Teddy carefully lifted the child and handed him to Sophie, who grasped him so tightly he woke up.
The boy looked up at her, his gaze clouded with confusion. His eyes were blue, just as Sophie had imagined, but his hair, curling from beneath a knitted cap, was nearly black, like hers, and his nose was a smaller replica of her own. Looking at him, she had no doubt this was the boy she’d given birth to. However, he was smaller and lighter than she’d expected, not the sturdy boy of her dreams but a frail child about the same size as Libby, who was five months his junior. Beneath the warm blanket he’d been wrapped in, he wore woolen stockings and a smock that must have been white at some point but was now grubby and soiled and smelled like a privy.
“I think one of Libby’s gowns will fit him,” Molly said as Sophie carried Theo into the house.
Theo scrunched up his face and began to wail, no doubt frightened by the new faces he’d woken to. “Shh, sweetheart,” Sophie cooed. “It’s all right. There’s no reason to be afraid. Would you like something to eat?”
The child instantly stopped crying and nodded, his eyes searching for food. Sophie sat him in her lap at the table and held the cup of milk for him as he drank deeply. She then handed him the bread Molly had buttered. His hands were small, his fingers thin and graceful. He grabbed the bread with both hands and bit into it, chewing quickly, as if someone might take it away if he didn’t eat it fast enough. Sophie’s gaze flew to Teddy as he entered the house, looking even more tired up close. Beneath the cloak, his clothes were filthy, and he must have lost at least a stone since she’d seen him last.
“Come and sit down,” Molly invited, pushing a bowl of stew and two slices of buttered bread toward Teddy. He wolfed down the bread and gulped two cups of milk before turning his attention to the stew, which he ate slower, savoring the flavor. At last, he wiped his mouth and sighed with contentment.
“Thank you, Molly,” he said, giving her a tired smile. “I can’t remember the last time I had a proper meal, or a good night’s sleep,” he added. He looked like he would keel over with fatigue.
“Teddy, wherever did you find him?” Sophie asked, stroking Theo’s hair with a gentle hand as he ate.
“I’ll tell you everything later. I’m too tired to do anything but have a wash and sleep. His name is John, by the way,” Teddy added before accepting a jug of hot water and a washrag from Molly. He climbed up to the loft for a bit of privacy, leaving Sophie with the child.
“Throw down your clothes,” Molly called up, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll wash them.”
Teddy’s shirt, breeches, hose, and drawers fluttered down from the loft and landed in a heap at the bottom of the ladder. Molly scooped them up and placed them in a basin, before pouring hot water over them and leaving them to soak. She then turned her attention to Theo/John, who was done eating and was looking around fearfully.
“Let’s get him cleaned up,” Molly said.
She brought one of Libby’s clean gowns and helped Sophie undress him. They washed him quickly and efficiently, then rubbed him dry, dressed him, and wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm. His eyes were already fluttering, so Molly offered to let him sleep on her bed, where they could keep an eye on him.
“He’s so small, Molly,” Sophie whispered as she sat down next to him to keep watch.
“We’ll feed him up,” Molly promised. “All he needs is good food and fresh air and he’ll be right as rain.”
Sophie nodded, unable to speak. She was overcome with tenderness, and silent tears slid down her cheeks as she watched the little boy she’d dreamed of every day since he was taken from her. She couldn’t control her emotions, which were swinging wildly from pure happiness to worry to sadness for the life he’d had, then back to happiness at having him back and gratitude to the good Lord for keeping him alive.
“Go on and lie down next to him,” Molly suggested. “I know you need to remain close.”
“Thank you,” Sophie said, and climbed into the bed, wrapping her arm around the sleeping child and pulling a blanket over them both. John, she thought drowsily. My John.
Chapter 39
By the time Teddy awoke, John was sitting on the floor next to Libby, playing with her wooden pegs. He looked around anxiously from time to time, watching the two women with a wary expression, but didn’t cry. Sophie left him in Molly’s care and climbed up to the loft, where Teddy had pulled on some clean clothes and was sitting on the pallet. Sophie sat down next to him and he pulled her down, wrapping her in his arms as he kissed her soundly. As much as she’d missed him, this wasn’t the time for a romantic reunion, not when her every thought was for their son.
“I need to know where John has been for the past year,” she said, gently pushing Teddy away. It felt strange to think of their boy as John, but she supposed she’d have to get used to it.
Teddy rolled onto his back and stared up at the low ceiling, his expression glum. “Getting my mother to admit to knowing Mrs. Meeks didn’t take much persuading,” he began. “As soon as I threatened to withhold the money, she told me what I wished to know, but finding the woman proved a lot more difficult. I spent the better part of two weeks traipsing from one ale house to another, asking after her. Had I been a woman, I might have elicited sympathy and gotten results, but as a man I posed a possible threat, so no one would talk to me. It was about four days ago that I finally came across someone who had a grudge against Mrs. Meeks and was willing to tell me where she could be found.”
“What sort of grudge?” Sophie asked, curious despite herself.
“The child she sold this man died two days after she received payment. She refused to return the money, claiming she wasn’t clairvoyant and couldn’t be expected to know which children would live and which would die.”
“Is there really a market for stolen babies?” Sophie asked, shocked that such a thing went on right under the noses of the authorities.
“There’s a market for everything, my love. You only need to find the right sort of customers,” Teddy replied matter-of-factly. “There isn’t much demand for newborn girls, from what I gathered, but there’s a thriving market for boys.”
“Why?” Sophie cried. “Why would someone want to purchase a child?”
“Many reasons,” Teddy replied. “Boys are valuable, not only as future workers, but also as heirs. There’s many a wealthy man who doesn’t have an heir and acquiring a baby at birth makes it easier to pass it off as one’s own.”
“All right, I suppose I can unders
tand it in the case of childlessness, but why seek a newborn if you wish for a worker? There are plenty of orphans who’d be happy of a roof over their heads.”
“Because acquiring a baby is cheaper than buying a slave or paying a man or a boy a fair wage, and the child grows up as the son of the house and feels a duty toward its parents. Mrs. Meeks takes something unwanted and makes a healthy profit off its disposal.”
“That’s diabolical,” Sophie said with disgust.
“Yes and no,” Teddy argued. “Most of these children would probably not see their first birthday if not for her. She finds them a home, so she’s saving them in her own way.”
“That’s one way of looking at it, but if she took my baby without permission, she must have taken others,” Sophie persisted.
“Oh, she had permission,” Teddy replied. “Your father paid her handsomely to get rid of his daughter’s bastard, which she did.”
“So, where did you find her?”
“Concord. She has a house there that she shares with her sister. When I confronted her, she refused to tell me where our boy was, not even after I offered her money.”
“Why would she refuse money? Isn’t money the only reason she does this? Please don’t tell me she does it to save the children.”
“Of course not. The children are a commodity, but she has a reputation to protect. Her customers expect anonymity. Should word get out that she’s willing to sell the information, not many will come to her.”
“So, how did you find out where John went?” Sophie asked.
“I pulled a knife on her,” Teddy replied, chuckling when Sophie gasped with shock. “I wasn’t going to hurt her, but I needed to frighten her enough to believe that telling me would save her life. A knife against one’s throat is very persuasive.”
Sophie remained quiet, trying to ignore the fact that the Teddy she’d known before would have never said such a thing. His time among criminals had changed him, but, in this case, she didn’t care about the means, only the result. “Where was he?” she asked quietly, bracing herself for whatever Teddy was about to share with her.
“Meeks had sold him to a man named John Fuller, who owns a farm a few miles north of Cambridge.”
“He was only a few miles away from me all this time?” Sophie cried. “Oh, if only I had known.”
“What would you have done?” Teddy asked. “Bring him home to your husband and announce that you’re keeping him? I’m sure that would have gone over well. He’d have beaten you to death, and the child along with you.”
“Don’t be cruel,” Sophie snapped.
“I’m only saying what you already know to be true,” Teddy replied, unperturbed by her anger.
“Just tell me what happened.”
“The closer I got to the farm, the more nervous I became,” Teddy confessed. “A part of me was terrified that I was too late, and another part of me feared that they wouldn’t surrender the child. He was theirs, bought and paid for. Even if they didn’t care for him, they’d have no reason to simply hand him over to me. When I explained my errand to Mr. Fuller, he reached for his musket,” Teddy said. “Told me to get out and never come back. John was his son, and his son he would remain.”
“How did you convince him?” Sophie asked, impressed with Teddy’s ingenuity. Obviously, he’d found a way.
“Everyone has their price, Poppet. Mrs. Fuller cried and begged her husband to let her keep the baby. She’d had four stillbirths in the past five years, she said, and John was her beloved boy, but her husband couldn’t say no to the money. He demanded an exorbitant sum, and I paid it. He cared for the child, I could see that, but the farm is struggling, and the money will go a long way toward restoring their fortunes. No doubt another child will miraculously appear in a year or two. I gave him enough coin to buy half a dozen.”
“And John? What did they say about our John?” Sophie asked.
“Mrs. Fuller said he’d been poorly and asked me to keep him warm and dry. She gave me an extra blanket for him. She loves him, and to be truthful, I felt awful taking him away from her. Losing him broke her heart, and it was hard on the child as well. He cried and cried after I left with him, reaching out toward the house and calling for his mother. I almost went back,” Teddy confessed, giving Sophie a guilty look. “I couldn’t bear his pitiful cries, but then I thought of you, and how you’d feel if I came back emptyhanded, and I hardened my heart to his misery.”
“It took you four days to travel here from Concord?” Sophie asked.
Teddy gave her a look of exasperation. “I was traveling with a one-year-old, Sophie, and once I left the farm, I realized I had no notion of how to care for him. He pissed himself a few minutes after we left, then soiled himself before I even made it to the nearest public house. I had no spare clothes for him nor any food.”
“I’m sorry, Teddy,” Sophie said, putting her hand on his arm. “I should have realized. Having no experience of babies, these things never occurred to me.”
“Me either,” Teddy said, turning to smile at her. “But I managed.”
“How?”
“Where there’s a publican, there’s a publican’s wife or daughter,” he replied smugly. “Few women will refuse a plea for help from a recently bereaved husband traveling to his parents’ home with his small son. They helped me clean him, feed him, and put him to bed. One even gave me two extra baby gowns left over from her own son and instructed me on how to keep him from soiling them every hour.”
“How?” Sophie asked, mystified. Libby still wore clouts, so she knew nothing of teaching a child how to use the pot.
“She told me to stop every hour or so, stand him up against a tree, and tell him to piss. Not an easy feat when traveling during the winter, but I managed. I had to hold him up so his feet wouldn’t get wet and hold his gown up with my other hand, but we got the hang of it eventually and had fewer accidents.”
“Did he continue to cry?” Sophie asked, her heart going out to the poor baby.
“He cried, but I think he sensed that I meant him no harm and turned to me for comfort. I talked to him as we rode along and sang songs. Mostly, I managed to bore him to sleep, but at least he wasn’t as upset. He’s young enough to forget the Fullers. He just needs love and care.”
“And feeding up. He’s so small.”
“Mrs. Fuller said he’s a sickly child,” Teddy said. “I do think she gave him the best of care.”
“Should we keep calling him John?” Sophie asked. She felt cheated of the right to name her baby.
“Maybe we should start with John Theo and gradually drop the John, once he’s become accustomed to it,” Teddy suggested.
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Sophie agreed. She snuggled closer to Teddy and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you, Teddy. I know this wasn’t easy, and I love you for not giving up.”
“I’d do anything for you, Sophie,” Teddy replied earnestly. “And he is my son too. We do have a problem, though,” he said softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have much money left, not after staying at inns for nearly three weeks and paying off the Fullers. And I must rendezvous with my ship by the end of March.”
“What are you saying?” Sophie demanded.
“I’m saying that I must find a way to provide for you and the child while I’m away, and I need to find someone to look after you.”
“Are you asking me to stay here?” she asked, her heart sinking with disappointment.
“No. This is too close to Boston. Once spring comes, people will travel more, and someone will let it drop that there’s a new woman in the parish fitting the description of the one who vanished without a trace. A reward is a powerful incentive for giving someone up,” Teddy said. “I need to know you’re safe, and I can’t ask Brock to risk his life for you. He’s got his own family to look to.”
“So, where will we go?” Sophie asked.
Teddy folded his arms behind his head and lo
oked up at the ceiling, his expression thoughtful. “Give me a few days to work that out,” he said. “That’s not a decision I can make in haste.”
Chapter 40
Lauren
Lauren smiled to herself when an incoming call displayed Ryan’s name on Saturday afternoon. He had the day off and had planned on taking Tyler to the Heritage Museum and Gardens in Sandwich, but they had agreed to have dinner together later. It was just past two o’clock, so he probably wanted to confirm their plans.
“Hey, are you doing anything in about an hour?” Ryan asked without preamble when she answered the call.
“I am now. What did you have in mind?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises,” Lauren replied, still smiling.
“You’ll like this one. Ty and I will pick you up.”
“Okay, see you then.”
Lauren closed the document she’d been working on and ran a hand through her hair. To her shame, she was still in her pajamas. She took a quick shower and got dressed. The weather was glorious; summer was well and truly on its way. She put on a linen dress in a pretty shade of periwinkle and strappy sandals, then applied some makeup and wound her hair into a messy bun. She hadn’t spent much time on her appearance since Zack died, but since coming to Orleans—or more specifically, since meeting Ryan—she suddenly wanted to look her best, and her desire to hide from the world was beginning to fade away.
I think I’ll go shopping next week, she thought as she poured some dog food into Billy’s bowl and refreshed his water. I want to buy something fun and flirty, and colorful, she decided. Billy wagged his tail, his face turned up to meet her gaze.
“I’m sorry, buddy, but you have to stay behind,” Lauren said. “We’ll go for a long walk tomorrow. I promise.”
Billy gave her a look of pure scorn, but seemed to accept the rejection and walked away, settling in his favorite spot by the sliding doors, where he could watch the outside world. The crunch of wheels on gravel heralded Ryan’s arrival and she grabbed her purse and let herself out.
The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story Page 21