by Jody Hedlund
Was he old enough to make up his own mind now? For so long he’d been doing what his father told him to do that he hadn’t stopped to question what he wanted. He supposed at seventeen he was a man in his own right and could set the course of his life as he saw fit.
“I want you to know that you’ll always have a place in our home. You’re welcome here anytime.”
His throat constricted. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had treated him with such warmth. “Thank you, Mrs. Catlett,” he managed.
“Your mother would have done the same had our situations been reversed.”
He nodded and knew it was true.
After Mrs. Catlett left him, he ascended the steps two at a time. As he reached the top stair, he caught sight of Polly scurrying away from the railing.
“You weren’t eavesdropping, were you, Cousin?” he whispered.
She stopped in the center of the hallway and spun to face him, shaking her head adamantly. “I was only going down to say good night to Father.”
Three of the four bedroom doors were already closed, and the only light in the hallway was the faint glow that came from below. He couldn’t see her features clearly in the darkness, but there was no mistaking her chagrin.
“I don’t mind you listening in on my conversations,” he said lightly. He forced himself not to budge from the top step and to maintain appropriate boundaries. “It just means that you like me and want to learn more about me.”
She gave a snort. “I see that not only are you easily persuaded, but you’re also easily puffed up.”
He smiled at her quip. “You’ve only known me a short while, and you already have me all figured out.”
“Is that all there is to you?” she parried. “Surely I haven’t so easily unlocked all of your secrets.”
His resolution to keep a proper distance from her evaporated. He started toward her, careful to keep his tread light and his voice a whisper so that he wouldn’t draw attention from the other family members already in their beds. “Mayhap if I stay, you’ll be able to discover for yourself if I have any more secrets.”
“Perhaps.” She took several steps backward until she bumped into the wall.
“I must warn you that I’m not always well behaved.”
“I have noticed that already.”
He grinned. “Mayhap you will make it your mission to reform me?”
“I do my best to accept people for who they are, not who I wish them to be.” She smiled shyly in return, revealing her youth and innocence in that one smile. Yet there was a mature confidence in her words and an unconditional acceptance that wrapped around his heart and soothed him. He was accustomed to disappointing people. But this young woman, without knowing anything about him, had already put her faith in him. And that was a rare gift, to have someone believe the best about you.
“I must bid you good night.” Although he wished he could stay and talk with her longer, remaining in a dark hallway in close proximity to Polly would only earn him censure from her parents. He took a step back, releasing her from the intensity of their encounter. She slid to the closest door and opened it a crack. He expected her to leave him without another word. But she paused with one hand on the doorknob and cast a glance over her shoulder.
“I didn’t have the chance to thank you yet.”
“Thank me for what?”
“For providing a distraction to the men who were trying to find Susanna and me.”
“I was quite the distraction, wasn’t I?”
She laughed lightly. “You put on a good show.”
“I can give a grand performance when I need to.”
She was silent for several heartbeats before speaking more seriously. “You saved us. And I won’t forget it.” She slipped through the doorway and closed the door behind her, leaving him in the dark staring at the spot where she’d disappeared.
He’d have to remain for at least another day. Even if he stayed for two, he’d still have time to ride to Liverpool and board his ship for Jamaica and his job there on the sugar plantation. His father’s friend and new employer, Joseph Manesty, would be expecting him the day before the African was set to sail, but so long as he arrived before the ship weighed anchor, what difference would it make exactly when he showed up? Although Manesty was a successful Liverpool merchant with profitable investments in the New World, he was also a close family friend and a kind man—at least he seemed kind on the couple of occasions John had met him. Surely Manesty wouldn’t mind a short postponement in his arrival.
His father, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so easily appeased if he discovered Newton’s delay. That just meant Newton wouldn’t be able to go home before he left for Liverpool. He’d have to avoid his father altogether.
Newton turned to the boys’ room. Images of Polly’s golden hair, sweet smile, and bright blue eyes swam in his vision. Aye, the delay would be worth any consequence that came his way.
“You used me last night,” Polly whispered to Susanna when the young woman walked into the house.
Susanna thrust two heavy baskets laden with the strong scent of mackerel and oysters into Polly’s hands. The young serving maid who had accompanied Susanna to market carried two other baskets. Susanna waited to speak until the girl closed the door and disappeared down the stairway. “I had no choice.” She yanked off her scarf, and tendrils of her dark hair sprang up with static. “I needed your beautiful singing voice to mesmerize everyone.”
Polly glanced to the door of the morning room where the rest of her siblings were still working on their school lessons with Mother and their visitor, John Newton, who’d offered to help Mother. Like the others, Polly had been surprised to discover that John was quite learned. His Latin was advanced, as were his mathematical skills.
She hadn’t been able to keep from peeking at him as he worked with Jack. Not only did he help Jack, but he also found witty ways to help the younger children learn their lessons, so that George and Sara practically worshiped him by the end of his time teaching them.
When he finally looked up and winked at Polly, she’d been mortified to have been caught staring and had needed to escape from the room. Susanna’s homecoming had provided her with a ready excuse. Besides, she’d wanted to confront Susanna about involving her in last evening’s escapade. Even now her chest constricted at the possibility that someone might connect her and Susanna to the missing slaves.
She’d hoped to speak to Susanna last night. But after she left John in the hallway and entered her room, Susanna was already buried deep under the covers. And this morning when Polly arose, she spent the first hour of her morning kneeling beside her bed in prayer, particularly petitioning for forgiveness for her role in the crime. By the time Polly finished her prayers and grooming, Susanna had already left for town.
“You should have told me your true intentions,” Polly insisted.
Susanna tossed her scarf onto the coat tree, and when it fell to the floor, she didn’t bother to pick it up but rather began to unbutton her coat. “You’re no good at keeping secrets,” Susanna explained. “If I’d breathed a word to you about any of the plans, your expression alone would have given us away.”
“I’ll thank you next time you decide to put my life in jeopardy to consult me first.”
Susanna stopped in her unbuttoning to place a hand on Polly’s cheek. Her fingers were frigid and stiff against Polly’s overly warm face, which Polly told herself came from the sunshine warming the morning room and not from John’s presence.
“You’ve the purest heart of anyone I know.” Susanna smiled at her in a way that made Polly feel like she was a mere child. “The main reason I didn’t say anything was because if anyone had detained us, you would have been completely innocent of any wrongdoing and could have gone free.”
“But I became guilty by association.”
Susanna dropped her hand and resumed fumbling with her coat.
“Did you stop to consider the implications of your involv
ement?” Polly lowered her voice. “This was too radical, too risky—”
“Saving another human being from the bondages of slavery and suffering isn’t too radical,” Susanna retorted in a harsh whisper.
Many of the slaves brought to England and America came from Africa. Her father had indicated that it was a profitable business for many merchants. They traded goods and trinkets along the coast of Africa in return for a cargo of slaves, which they then sold. Most people in England accepted the practice of slavery, and some even claimed that slavery helped Christianize the pagan Africans. But of late, the Dissenting Quaker group was speaking out. And was apparently now taking action.
Polly shook her head. “Your Quaker friends are influencing you too much, Susanna.”
“Yes, they are influencing me. They’re opening my mind to the ills of slavery.” Susanna’s eyes flashed with familiar passion.
“There may be ills that need addressing.” Polly had already heard Susanna’s litany of complaints against slavery over the past few days since she’d arrived: the poor working conditions, the ill-treatment, and more. “But that doesn’t mean you must resort to illegal activities, does it?”
“Those young children were ripped away from their families, Polly. From mothers and fathers who loved them. How do you think those parents feel not knowing where their children are or what is to become of them? And can you imagine the fear those boys are experiencing in a new land away from their families and all they’ve ever known?”
Susanna’s passionate speech silenced Polly. She couldn’t imagine such a situation. It was indeed cruel.
“The Quakers hope to at least give the boys their freedom among the free blacks in London.” Susanna’s voice had grown louder, and she lowered it as she spoke again. “Sometimes drastic measures are needed to bring about true and lasting change.”
From the edge to Susanna’s voice, Polly knew she had no hope of winning the verbal spar. She’d spent enough time with her aunt over the years to realize Susanna wouldn’t be dissuaded, at least until she discovered a new and more important cause upon which to focus her time and attention.
“I may not be able to sway your opinion in this matter,” Polly finally said, “but I hope I can convince you not to involve me again. Especially when the consequences could be severe.”
Susanna met her gaze levelly. “You’re right. I’m sorry for involving you.”
“We were very fortunate that Mr. Newton came along when he did.”
“Did I hear my name?” John stepped through the door of the morning room. In the brightness of day, his features were stronger and more rugged than they’d appeared last evening. That her attention shifted so easily to his countenance made her squirm.
“I don’t mind being the center of conversation between two pretty young ladies,” he said, striding to them with the rolling gait of a man accustomed to the sway of a ship. While he wore the same clothes from the previous day, he’d obviously taken time that morning to comb his long hair back into a neat queue. His hair was light woodland brown, with sun-bleached streaks that gave him a fair appeal.
“Were you on another rescue mission this morning, Miss Smith?” John asked in a secretive whisper, and although he addressed Susanna, his dancing eyes met Polly’s. She was struck again today at the beautiful green, the color of lush marsh grass that grew along the river in the summer.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Susanna spun away from him, draping her coat over another on the crowded coatrack.
John chuckled. “And I believe you as much today as I did last night.” He reached for the baskets that Polly still held. When his fingers brushed against hers, the soft graze startled her. She released her grip on the baskets so quickly that John almost dropped them.
His brows quirked with an unspoken query. As the heat stole unbidden into her cheeks, his eyes lit as though he guessed her reaction to him.
She’d had attention from young men in the past year. It was no secret that her best friend’s brother, Billy Baldock, was sweet on her. Billy was nearly John’s age, almost a grown man. Even so, in all of the parties and gatherings they’d had so far that fall and winter, she’d never reacted as strangely to Billy as she was to John. Of course, she’d known Billy all her life, and most of the time she thought of him the same way she did her brothers.
But John was different from any young man she’d met before. He was unconventional, even somewhat uncouth, and somehow larger than life. She bent to retrieve Susanna’s scarf from the floor and busied herself with hanging it up, all the while attempting to ignore his attention.
“There you are, Susanna,” Mrs. Catlett’s voice came from behind them. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”
Lost? Polly wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her mother’s assumption, especially since Susanna had been the one to guide them home last night through a narrow forest path that not even Polly had known about.
“I’m just fine,” Susanna said, smiling innocently at Mother. “It’s such a beautiful morning that I couldn’t help lingering.”
The cheerful sunlight streaming through the fanlight above the door called to Polly. “Since it’s such a fine day, perhaps I can surprise Father with a warm lunch?”
The walk downtown to the customs offices took less than half an hour, and Polly enjoyed the opportunity to deliver a meal to her father. Although he was usually busy, he never failed to take the time to sit down with her for a few minutes.
“That’s a kind offer, Polly,” Mother said, peeking in one of the baskets that John held. “You and Jack may take soup and bread.”
Polly started to nod, but John interrupted. “It would be my pleasure to accompany Polly. Then you won’t need to tear Jack away from his studies.”
“Thank you, John.” Mother smiled at him and squeezed his arm. The skin on her hands had become paler in recent years so that the veins protruded more prominently. “Your help this morning has been a blessing. And I’m sure Jack would appreciate not having to escort Polly.”
Mother and Father had decided to give Jack the opportunity to go away to school since he had the inclination to become a lawyer. As they could only afford to send one child at a time, Polly tried not to be envious that Jack would get to go to school instead of her. She’d reached an age where many of her peers had begun to leave for boarding schools in London. Girls’ schools didn’t offer the same academic curriculum as those for boys, but Mrs. Overing’s Boarding School where Susanna had attended was more progressive and taught literature, poetry, and even some foreign language in addition to the customary sewing, embroidery, painting, and music. Polly longed for the day when she’d have the chance to go and improve her composing.
She suspected her father could find a way to earn more if he wanted to, like many of her friends’ fathers who worked as customs officers. They had no qualms about accepting bonuses from ship captains or local smugglers for turning a blind eye to the smuggling of goods. They considered the extra payment one of the benefits of the business. However, Father called it bribing and had made a private decision not to accept the frequent bonuses even if that decision meant his family had to go without some of the luxuries that others could afford—like schooling for her.
Whatever the case, she still loved her father and tried to respect his choices, even if at times she felt left behind.
As she started on her way down the sloping road that led toward the center of town and the dockyard, she lifted her face to the sunshine and let the warmth settle over her. Next to her, John carried a small basket that contained a crock of soup and toasted bread lathered with a thick layer of fresh butter that Susanna had brought back from the market.
“Do you like country living?” he asked amiably as he scanned the bare rounded summits beyond which lay Sheerness and the North Sea. They couldn’t see the vast sea from Chatham, but the taste and feel of it was in the air. A herd of sheep grazed nearby on the downs, which had turned a pale yellowish gre
en, and the stands of beech, yew, and juniper were leafless and brown.
“A quiet and peaceful life suits me just fine.” She tried not to feel self-conscious walking along next to him, but she was too aware of the crunch of gravel underneath his feet and the carefree swing of his arm.
“You don’t ever crave more than this?” There wasn’t contempt in his voice. Only curiosity.
“Someday I hope to go to school in London, especially so that I may be able to become more proficient with my music.”
“You never long for excitement or adventure?”
“Excitement and adventure are for Susanna. Not me. But I have the feeling that’s what you desire.”
He laughed, and she was beginning to realize that laughter came easily to him. She liked the carefree tone of it as if he had not a worry in the world, and she liked the way his eyes sparkled brightly in his sun-browned face.
“Aye, adventure and I have a longstanding relationship,” he said. “Sometimes too close.”
She’d relished learning about him last night when he entertained them with tales of his adventures at sea. And now in the quietness of midday, with only the two of them on the path toward town, she couldn’t deny that she wished to hear more of his adventures.
“Once,” he began, “when I was home from a voyage, I arranged with a friend to visit a man-of-war anchored off Purfleet in the Thames near Long Reach. On my way I stopped to quench my thirst—only cider, mind you.”
“I’m sure,” she replied dryly, having no doubt he’d had drink much stronger than cider.
He smiled and continued. “I reached the quayside just a few minutes late. But the longboat had already headed off to the man-of-war. I shouted at my friend to persuade the crew to come back for me. But they were already full and refused to oblige us.”
His smile faded and his sights grew distant. “Not more than a couple minutes later, as I watched and grumbled from the shore, the longboat hit jetsam and capsized. Most of the passengers, including my friend, drowned before my very eyes.”