Newton and Polly

by Jody Hedlund

  “You’re not planning to go out again today, are you?” John asked, reaching to help her out of her coat.

  She clutched it closed. “Miss Donovan’s little white dog has run away, and she’s upset about it. I thought I’d search around outside in the yard for it.”

  “I’ll help you,” John said. She ought to insist that he stay inside where it was warm and comfortable, especially since he’d likely traveled all day to reach Chatham. But as he donned his coat, she couldn’t find the words to protest.

  Once the front door closed behind them, he sauntered with his rolling gait toward the towering spruce tree he’d climbed during his last visit. “Do you think the dog is up in the tree? Will I need to make another daring rescue?”

  “Don’t you mean another dangerous tumble?”

  “I’ll have you know that I’ve improved in my climbing skills since the last time I was here. After nearly a year at sea, I could climb the tallest tree in the dark. Backward. And upside down holding on only by my toes.”

  She laughed. “I should like to see that.”

  He started to shrug out of his coat. “Very well. If you insist.”

  “No!” She reached to stay him. “I don’t relish the idea of you killing yourself on the first day of your return.”

  He pressed a hand against his heart and stumbled backward as though mortally wounded, even as he grinned. “My dearest girl, how little faith you have in me. Mayhap I have grown over the past year into a stronger and better man.”

  Her gaze dropped to his chest and then to his thick arms bulging against his coat sleeve. He curled his arm and flexed his bicep.

  “I’m sure you have grown quite strong.” Silently she berated herself for gawking and spun away. With burning cheeks, she started toward the back of the house. His laughter followed her, and he easily caught up and fell into stride next to her.

  “I suppose we shall need to look for the dog in the stables,” John said casually, but there was a teasing glimmer in his eyes that told her he remembered their good-bye every bit as much as she did. Once again her thoughts returned to the warm pressure of his lips at the center of her palm. Her skin tingled just thinking about it. But the idea of being alone with him and of giving in to her desires to be in his arms frightened her.

  It was too soon. They’d only just seen each other again after months and months apart. All her reservations about him came rushing back. He was so much more worldly wise than she was, and that intimidated her more than she wanted him to know.

  “Actually, I was thinking of searching the woodland behind the houses.” She veered toward the back gate that would take her out to the hills. “I saw the Donovan children playing out in the woods earlier today. I suspect they left their gate open, and poor little Prince unwittingly made his way out.”

  “I’m sorry, Polly,” he said, trailing after her. “I don’t mean to be so forward. It’s just that I’m so excited to be with you that I keep letting my mouth run ahead of me.”

  She passed the ash bin and privy and then unlatched the back gate.

  He pushed it open for her. “I promise I won’t say or do anything else to make you uncomfortable.”

  She wanted to tell him that the discomfort was her fault, that she’d clearly dreamed about him too much while he was gone and had allowed herself to care for him more deeply than she ought. But she couldn’t admit all of that, so she strode ahead, forcing him to lengthen his stride to keep up.

  “You offered me friendship on my last visit,” he said. “Will you extend the offer to this visit too?”

  At the anxiety in his tone, she stopped and faced him. His features were shadowed with an insecurity that made her realize that for all his teasing and bravado, he was still trying to understand the nature of their relationship too. Certainly there was nothing wrong with going back to the kind of relationship they had last time—the playful teasing that hinted at more but was safe.

  Yes, that would work. She smiled to reassure him. “Of course we shall be friends. I should like nothing better.”

  Although his grin broke free, there was something more reserved in his manner as they walked along the edge of the woodland. While she loved the stomach flips and heart flops, she was also content simply to talk, to listen to him describe his year sailing the Mediterranean to the Adriatic Sea. As always, he had her laughing at his many experiences, the silly escapades as well as the dangerous. And she loved that he listened to her just as attentively as she told about Jack leaving for boarding school in London and Susanna’s betrothal to Daniel Eversfield and the upcoming wedding. Susanna had met Daniel shortly after returning to London last year, and thankfully the budding romance had kept her too busy to involve herself in any more trouble.

  “And what else have you done this year besides rescue lost animals?” he asked as they ambled back toward home. The overcast sky was thankfully quiet, without wind or rain. The edge of the woodland was silent and still, as if every creature had gone to sleep for the remainder of the winter.

  “I’m afraid my life is not so exciting as yours,” she said, stepping over a dead branch, her shoes squishing in the damp leaves that covered the ground. “I cannot yet go away to school as most of my friends have done. But Father has told me I might have the opportunity next year.”

  “You would do well in school.” His sincerity warmed her. “And your singing and composing? How is that going? Have you written that epic song about me yet that will give me renown through all generations?”

  She smiled. “Not yet. Mother keeps me very busy these days. She has begun to give me more responsibility so that I may learn how to manage a household.”

  “Are your parents making marriage arrangements already?” There was more than curiosity in his tone.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “I want to go to school before I marry, and they know that.”

  “Surely young men are vying for your hand.”

  “You’re flattering me, John.”

  “What about that monkey-boy who was sweet on you? What was his name? Billy-bald-donkey-head?”

  She pushed John in the arm playfully. “You’re naughty.”

  He grinned in acquiescence. “Is he still trying to win your hand?”

  “He never was trying to win my hand.”

  “I very clearly heard his voice when you walked in the door today.”

  “Billy has always been a good friend.”

  John stopped walking. She continued several more paces before halting and turning to face him. His expression was devoid of humor. In fact, the seriousness with which he regarded her made her pulse flutter. “He truly means nothing more to you than a friend?” His voice demanded honesty.

  She thought of all the many ways Billy had helped her over the past year, his attentiveness, his willingness to go out of his way to walk her home, the efforts he made to include her in activities with the young people who weren’t away at boarding schools.

  “Please tell me you’re not thinking seriously about Billy.”

  “I’m not.” At least not too often. After all, she couldn’t completely ignore Billy’s continued devotion and attribute it only to friendship, especially when he hinted from time to time that he’d like more.

  The worry in John’s eyes didn’t go away. But before he could say more, a flash of white in the woods caught their attention.

  Polly peered more closely through the low branches and twigs. “There’s Prince.” The dog’s curly-haired white body was unmistakable against the backdrop of grays and browns.

  “Prince!” she called. “Come here, Prince!”

  The dog lifted its head, sniffed the air with its scrunched snout, and then turned and trotted away.

  Polly darted into the woodland after it. She pushed back barren branches and attempted to hasten in spite of her hooped petticoat getting caught in the brush. The canine, as if sensing the pursuit, scampered ahead, much faster on its legs than she was. John crashed through the brush next to her in p
ursuit as well. With his long legs and agility, he moved ahead until he almost had the dog in his grasp.

  “Come here, you little devil!” John lunged toward the dog and grabbed it around the torso. But as John crashed to the ground, his hold on the dog loosened for just a second, and the creature jerked free. With a yip of victory, he bounded off again.

  “Are you all right?” Polly stopped next to John.

  He jumped up and brushed at the leaves clinging to his breeches. “Nothing’s injured except my pride.”

  “You made a marvelous effort.”

  John scowled after the dog. “Never fear, my lady. I shall get the sneaky, slippery eel yet.” He charged through the brush again, and Polly chased after them both. By the time they stopped, Polly could hardly catch her breath. They were at the bottom of a hill, and the woods had thinned during their descent.

  “He disappeared over there,” John said between gasps as he pointed to a rocky area.

  Polly combed her hair out of her face. The tightly drawn and twisted knob at the upper back of her head had come loose, leaving her hair a tangle of waves.

  “Come on.” John reached for her hand, giving her little choice but to race after him. “We’re not letting that weasel get away from us now. Not after we’ve come this far.”

  “Maybe we’re scaring him,” she managed to gasp out. “Perhaps if we tried a gentler approach?”

  John laughed at her over his shoulder. “Too late for that. We’ve already frightened him into thinking we’re two giants who’d like nothing better than to skin him alive.”

  Laughing, she stumbled after John. As he rounded a bend in the hill, he came to an abrupt halt. She bumped into his backside and would have loosened her hand from his and distanced herself from him if he hadn’t tightened his hold. He pulled her forward, and she was startled to see a large stone shoved aside to reveal a tunnel.

  “He went in there.” John nodded to the gaping dark hole.

  Her thoughts immediately turned to Billy’s warning earlier. “I don’t think we should go in.”

  “Of course we should.”

  John tried to tug her closer, but she resisted. “Let’s go home. It’s not safe here. This is probably a smuggler’s cave.” Her father had talked about the smugglers devising new and more creative places to store their goods, including underground tunnels and caverns. Some of the tunnels were left from Roman occupation centuries ago, aqueducts that had been enlarged. If the risk of being spotted by a smuggler wasn’t danger enough, she didn’t want to add on the prospect of being buried by a crumbling ancient cavern.

  “The little devil couldn’t have gone too far.” John’s voice contained a note of excitement.

  She didn’t budge. “The problems with smugglers have gotten worse over the past year since you’ve been gone, John. Gangs are roaming all over the coast.”

  When John released a breath of disappointment, remorse pooled in her chest. He clearly craved adventure. Danger didn’t thwart him. Rather it seemed to feed his appetite for more, much like it did for Susanna. She started to explain herself further, but her words were cut off by a distant shout followed by a high-pitched bark.

  “It’s Prince,” Polly said. “And it sounds like he’s been hurt.”

  “Wait here.” John released her hand. “I’m going in a little farther to see if I can grab him.”

  “I don’t think you should,” she started, but he’d already moved away from her. “Someone else is here. We should leave before we’re spotted.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said much too confidently. “Just stay out here and I’ll be back shortly.”

  Before he could duck inside, the shouting grew louder and Prince shot from the tunnel yipping in terror. He knocked into John before scampering directly into Polly’s skirts. She reached down and scooped up the dog, which was shaking as if he’d seen the ghost of a Roman legionnaire.

  Her fingers made contact with his wet nose. She allowed him to sniff her fingers and then gently stroked the top of his head. He gave a soft whimper. “You’re safe now,” she crooned.

  “Where’s that mutt?” an angry voice called. “I’m gonna kill him for biting me.”

  John’s eyes widened, and he began to back away from the mouth of the cave. “Go,” he whispered to her. “Run now.”

  At the anxiety in his voice, she didn’t stop to argue. Billy’s earlier warning clanged in her head, urging her to retreat the way she’d come. She expected John’s heavy footsteps to follow. But after a moment of running and hearing only the crunch of her own steps in the windfall, she stopped and turned.

  To her horror, John was lying on the ground not far from the cave. A man the size of two oxen was on top of him, wrenching his arm behind his back. The man’s face was as brown as wet leather and just as crinkled. He reminded her of some of the burly men she’d seen with Charlie Baldock from time to time.

  She dragged in a shaky breath.

  John muttered something but was cut short by a punch to the side of his head.

  She cried out in protest.

  “Run, Polly!” John called, lifting his head from the ground.

  “I won’t go anywhere without you,” she insisted. Prince burrowed into the crook of her arm, still trembling. She glanced around for anything she could use to free John, a hard stick, a big rock, anything. At the edge of the forest there were a dozen things she might wield as weapons, but she couldn’t make her body work to pick something up.

  “Snooping around Charlie’s cave, are you?” the man groused.

  So Charlie Baldock had a hideout close to his brother’s house? No wonder Billy had warned her not to stray too far from home. He’d likely known about the cave and wanted to prevent her from stumbling upon it.

  The ox unsheathed a knife and pointed it at John’s throat. “For that I’m gonna tie you and your lady friend up. And then I’m gonna make you watch as I roast your dog alive.”

  Even with the knife pricking his neck, John struggled against his captor’s hold and uttered several colorful curses.

  The man slapped the side of John’s head again. “Watch your filthy mouth.”

  “Devil hang you!” John yelled as he spat a glob of blood to the dirt. He attempted to roll away, but the huge man jerked John’s arm up sharply behind his back again. He cried out in agony, and when his eyes found hers, the desperation there unnerved her. And pleaded with her again to run.

  Her pulse pounded erratically, and her stomach clenched with the need to be sick. For a moment she could only stare, unwilling to depart but knowing the best way to help him was to get her father. He’d know what to do to save John. As much as she loathed leaving him at the mercy of the brute, she’d only make matters worse if she attempted to help him on her own.

  She tucked Prince under her arm. His body was still shaking and hers was now too. And then she ran.

  Polly buried her face in her hands. Her mother’s gentle fingers rubbing her back didn’t bring any comfort. Neither the heat emanating from the morning-room fireplace nor the heavy wool blanket draped over her shoulders could warm her. Nothing could take away the cold grip that had wrapped around every limb.

  “Your father will know what to do,” Mother assured her, although her voice didn’t contain any confidence.

  After finding her way out of the woods, Polly had gone down to the Customs House only to discover that her father had ridden out on a search with several junior officers. Thankfully, Billy noticed her with the dog and escorted her straight home, even though she begged him to return to the cave. He promised to go there and investigate the matter. But they hadn’t heard anything from him.

  “I shouldn’t have left John,” Polly said into her hands. “He’s probably dead by now.”

  “I doubt they’ll kill him,” Mother responded weakly, likely remembering the murder of the cordwainer and riding officer in West Sussex. If Mother only knew about the recent threat to Father’s life…But Polly wouldn’t tell her. She reasoned that if F
ather hadn’t told Mother about the incident, it was because he hadn’t wanted to frighten her any more than she already was.

  “I wish Father didn’t have to be a customs officer,” Polly said. “At the very least, why does he have to be so strict in his stand against the smugglers? He’s putting himself in great danger.” Even though she was repeating Billy’s admonition, the fear in her heart made the words hers now.

  Mother sighed as though she’d wrestled through the issue herself many times. “Your father is an honest man who lives by his convictions. Just because so many others turn a blind eye to the evil going on around us doesn’t mean we should too. Imagine if everyone sat back and looked the other way. Who would be left to fight for righteous living and justice?”

  Polly lifted her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “But what if smuggling isn’t so evil after all? Maybe the fault lies with Parliament trying to enlarge the king’s treasury with burdensome taxes.” She had heard Billy say as much plenty of times. Without the cost of the import duties, the smuggled tea, coffee, tobacco, spirits, and silks were more affordable. What was wrong with that?

  “Do we fight dishonest gain with more dishonest gain?” Mother said gently. “Or should we rise above the corruption and fight with truth and integrity, no matter the personal cost?”

  Before Polly could respond, a loud banging on the front door made her jump.

  Her mother crossed rapidly to the window and peered outside, her hands fluttering above her heart. “I can’t see who it is.” Her mother didn’t have to say the exact words for Polly to know she was afraid the smugglers had decided to come after Polly since she knew the location of their hideout.

  The pounding on the door came again, this time more urgently.

  Polly rose from her chair and tried to still the trembling in her legs. She would go hand herself over before anyone else in her family was hurt.

  But Mother was already gliding across the room to the door. “Stay here, Polly darling. I’ll send the visitor away.”