My Sister's Prayer

by Mindy Starns Clark

  Stepping inside, I glanced to the right and was startled to see Nana in the living room. She was folding a shirt on the bed, but when she leaned forward to place it inside the Louis Vuitton suitcase, her movement revealed someone sitting behind her.

  Nicole.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded, moving toward them.

  Nana looked up in surprise, and then she smiled. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying, but she certainly seemed happy now.

  “We’re packing up your sister’s things.”

  “What?” I continued forward, looking to Nicole. “Why? How did you end up back here?”

  My sister’s eyes were also red, but on her face was a mix of sadness and relief. “I called Nana to come and get me from the church. I needed to return some things that belonged to her.”

  “But we were told you left with some guy.” Even as I said it, I realized Hedge’s misunderstanding. That “guy” had been Jerome, Nana’s driver.

  Suddenly, more pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Nana insisting Nicole read those letters. Nana urging us to go to Williamsburg. Nicole standing and looking at the pillory—the same place where Celeste first learned the royal origins of the ruby ring—and then suddenly insisting we leave so she could go to a meeting. I realized that had been our savvy grandmother’s plan all along, to make Nicole understand the history of the ring, the importance of it to our family, the value of what she’d taken. And it had worked too. Between reading the letters and visiting the site in person, Nicole had become overwhelmed by guilt for what she’d done—which in turn had led her, finally, to contact Hedge and have him bring her the ring and then hand it over to Nana along with a full confession.

  “So why are you packing now?” I asked, the one part of this picture I still didn’t understand.

  “I made a decision, and I don’t want to wait,” Nicole replied. “I’m going to rehab. Tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Celeste

  Celeste coughed, Berta’s prayer still ringing in her ears, as Spenser rolled her to her side. Water sputtered from her throat. Spenser held her head as Berta knelt beside her.

  “Is she going to be all right?” Berta asked.

  Spenser nodded.

  Berta sprang to her feet. “I’ll go tell the governor what happened. Everything.”

  Celeste struggled to speak. “Tell him about Constable Wharton’s maid too.” She coughed. “The one who spoke with Spenser and me. The governor should interview her and any others in the house. Make sure he knows Mr. Horn is probably also involved.”

  Berta agreed and then scurried away, and Sary took her place. Celeste reached for her good hand as she turned her head toward Spenser and whispered, “Thank you.” He’d saved her, once again. For the last time, she was sure.

  “You need to get warm,” he said. “Can you stand?”

  She nodded. She struggled to her feet with Sary and Spenser both supporting her. The wind felt icy now, biting fiercely at her wet skin.

  They passed the governor speaking to Berta. His assistant and several sailors, including First Mate Hayes, had Jonathan in custody, and a group of soldiers was marching down the wharf toward them.

  Captain Bancroft wasn’t in sight, but Constable Wharton had a scowl on his face and was keeping quiet. He frowned as Celeste slipped past him onto the boat.

  “Help her get dry,” Spenser said to Sary. “I’ll try to find a blanket for her.”

  “We have one,” Sary said in English. “But you should find another one for yourself.”

  Spenser gave her a smile and a nod. “Will do.”

  It was nearly dark by the time the York set sail for Williamsburg. Celeste, in her other set of clothes and wrapped in a blanket, was wedged between Berta and Sary.

  Celeste turned to her sister. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Jonathan.”

  “I wish you had. It would have saved you so many troubles.” She paused, and then she added in a lower voice, “I can see why you didn’t, though. I wasn’t very trustworthy. But I’ve learned my lesson, believe me. I’ve both repented and reformed.”

  After all that had happened, Celeste truly believed her sister. She’d been deceitful too, and Berta had long ago forgiven her. They both understood the consequences now. They both also understood what it meant to be forgiven by God, and what it meant to seek His guidance, to trust His care.

  They were silent for a long moment, but then Berta said, “I’m honestly not doing what I did with Jonathan. I mean, I’m not trying to steal your beau.”

  “What are you talking about?” Celeste asked. She didn’t have a beau.

  Berta whispered, “George.”

  “Oh,” Celeste said. “I wondered…” She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

  “I don’t want to encourage him if you’re interested…”

  “No, I’m not. Truly. But you’re fond of him, then?”

  Berta smiled. “Yes. It turns out I’m the reason he came with Emmanuel. He was concerned about me and wanted to make sure I was safe.”

  Celeste laughed. “He seems to have gotten over me rather quickly.”

  “Apparently so.” Berta smiled.

  Celeste patted her sister’s arm. “You have my blessing. And my prayers for a good life.”

  Berta managed to thank her before the motion of the water sent her to the edge of the boat. This time it wasn’t Celeste or Spenser who went to her aid. It was George.

  Poor Spenser, Celeste thought. If only he’d known about Berta’s feelings for George before getting so worked up about the ring.

  The ring! Where was it?

  She searched the deck for Emmanuel and Spenser. They stood near the hull, the still-damp Spenser wrapped in a blanket of his own. The two men were deep in conversation. She would wait until they were finished before asking.

  In the meantime, she turned to Sary and whispered to her in French. “Clearly you understand English.” She smiled at Sary’s cunning. “And I imagine you’re better at speaking it than you let on. Why did you pretend not to?”

  The woman was silent for a moment, and then she matched Celeste’s low tone, “I wanted Mr. Edwards to find someone who spoke my language. I needed a friend.”

  Touched by her words, Celeste gave the woman a warm smile and a nod.

  As Sary rested, Celeste turned back toward her brother. When he eventually glanced at her, she waved him over.

  “I have a question for you,” she said as soon as he sat down beside her. “What happened with the ring? Did Spenser find the appraiser?”

  Emmanuel winced. “I’m afraid he’s much more intuitive than I am. Yes, Spenser found the appraiser. Once he heard our story, he confronted Wharton, who had stopped at the tavern for a drink. It turns out the ring is worth far, far more than Wharton revealed. There were enough patrons around that once the story was out quite a scene developed against Wharton. We were negotiating when Berta and George arrived, followed by Captain Doane. The governor, once he was aware of what was going on with you, suggested we all move to the wharf, while he consulted with the appraiser. Spenser led the way, of course. He’s quite something, you know. A man of rare character.”

  “I know,” she replied, hoping her voice didn’t reveal her longing. She cleared her throat. “So where is the ring now? Still with Wharton?”

  “No.” Emmanuel patted his side. “I’m happy to say it’s in my pouch. The governor sorted it all out while you were changing out of your wet things. The appraiser verified its worth and even gave me a copy of the document he’d made for Wharton—of course Spenser was right. I was a fool not to push Wharton on the matter.”

  “What counts is that you have it back.” Gratitude swept through her. “Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment.

  “Don’t thank me. Because I’ve been thinking seriously about keeping this thing myself—for my future bride or maybe one of my future daughters. You had your chance, and look what you did with it.”r />
  She opened her eyes and saw that he was teasing, but she shook her head vehemently. “You’re absolutely right, Emmanuel. I don’t deserve to get it back. I want you to keep it.”

  He put up a bit of a fight, insisting it was still hers and that he had only been kidding, but she stayed firm.

  “Keep the ring,” she insisted. “More than anything, I want it to be passed down, through the Talbot family line, for generations to come.”

  He thought for a moment and then spoke. “You know what? Considering its value, I could use it as collateral. How fitting, actually, for this ring to end up being the very thing that secures a future for all of us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Emmanuel said, and from the way he looked at her, Celeste realized he was about to tell her something important. “And I’ve decided to stay. For good.”

  Her eyes widened as he continued.

  “If Berta can’t survive the trip home, then I won’t go either.” He smiled. “I’m guessing George will stick around too. We’ll buy a piece of land and build and run an inn, far enough away from Mr. Edwards’s that it won’t impact his business. And eventually we’ll start a sawmill as well.”

  Celeste’s heart pounded. “What about Maman and Papa?”

  Emmanuel’s eyes grew serious. “We talked this all through before I left. Uncle Jules sent more money for a business, but we’ve still made no progress as far as a paper mill or even a print shop. There are too many obstacles to overcome in England. Papa said if I found a business opportunity here, I should stay. The eventual goal is a print shop, just like the old family one back in Lyon, or a paper mill like in Le Chambon. Neither can happen here for a while, of course, but that’s all right. They will eventually. In the meantime, we’ll start with an inn. And like I said,” he added with a grin, “if we need any loans now and then as we grow, we have the ring.”

  Celeste returned his smile, but her head was spinning with surprise and possibilities. “Tell me your idea as far as labor. For the inn and the sawmill.”

  “Well, Spenser for sure.”

  She ignored the surge in her pulse. “Who else?”

  “George, Berta. And we’ll have to get some workers for the inn—”

  “Not slaves, though,” Celeste said quickly.

  “Of course not. We’ll hire from whatever community we end up near, maybe bring in an indentured servant or two if necessary. And then there’s Sary, if she’s interested. Spenser said she’s the best cook around.”

  “She was, before she got injured. Now there’s a lot she can’t do.”

  “But she could direct others, no?”

  Celeste glanced at Sary and then back at Emmanuel, a smile teasing at her lips as a vision formed in her mind. “Of course.” She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  Emmanuel cleared his throat. “Papa was all right with my staying, but he wanted me to send you girls back if you hadn’t already married. Clearly, Berta would never make it. From what she said, I can’t imagine how she survived the first crossing. So I’ll see to her, along with George, but you should go back to London.”

  Celeste shook her head. “I want to stay with Berta too. She’ll need me. Plus, I’m committed to helping Sary. She and I can cook in the inn.” Her voice choked as she said, “I’ll write to Papa and Maman. I’ll explain everything that happened. Everything.” Her gaze drifted across the river to the west, where the sun was setting over the trees. “What about our little brothers? What opportunities will they have?”

  “Perhaps they will venture over here in a few years,” Emmanuel said. “Or at least Alexander, once he’s old enough. He’s the adventurous one. Frederick and William will probably end up staying in London and see to Maman and Papa in their old age.”

  Celeste mourned not being able to care for her parents, but she couldn’t fathom doing anything else besides staying here with her brother and sister. Spenser began pacing along the side of the boat. He’d probably noticed that George was tending to Berta. Poor, sweet Spenser. She could almost feel the breaking of his heart.

  A glimmer of hope warmed Celeste for a moment. Maybe, in time, he would see the good in her. See that she could put her family and Sary first and what was best for others. Her heart constricted again. No, if Spenser was going to care for her that way, he would have by now. He never would. He’d seen her at her very worst, over and over.

  Emmanuel cleared his throat. “Instead of going on to Williamsburg, Spenser and I are going to head up to Manakin Towne and talk with the Huguenots there. We’ve heard there’s land available at a much better price than around Williamsburg.”

  “It’s on the edge of the frontier, though,” Celeste said. “So far from everything.”

  “It won’t be for long. And we’d be part of a community there. As more people move west, we should get enough business to support ourselves.”

  Celeste nodded. “Where will Berta, Sary, and I stay while you’re gone?”

  “At the inn. Tell Mr. Edwards to put it on my bill.”

  “Is George going with you?”

  Emmanuel shook his head. “He’ll stay with all of you.” He stood. “Try to get some rest, Celeste. And keep warm.” He headed toward the railing, where George was huddled next to Berta.

  Night fell and overhead the stars began to appear. Celeste huddled closer to Sary, hoping to keep them both warm. Celeste leaned her head back and watched the stars, her breath sending vapors up into the air.

  For the first time, she and Spenser were seeing the same stars at the same time. Celeste glanced toward the hull. He stood with his back to the railing, wrapped in a blanket. But he wasn’t looking at the stars. He was looking at her.

  They told Emmanuel and Spenser goodbye at the dock and wished them a good trip up the river to the falls and then on to Manakin Towne. As George, Berta, Sary, and Celeste started the journey to Williamsburg, Berta again was able to ride in a wagon while the rest of them walked. Thankfully, the trail had dried out some. As the sunlight streamed through the trees, the changing leaves glowed against the evergreens. Celeste breathed in the fresh scent of the forest. No longer did the lack of people bother her. She found hope and harmony in the beauty of Virginia.

  By the time they reached Williamsburg, Berta was barely able to climb down from the wagon. George carried her into the inn as the soldiers began to march on the green. The drumming was distant, and for the first time the sound actually calmed Celeste. She never thought she’d return to Williamsburg, but she felt relieved that she had. She was as safe as she would probably ever be, with or without a husband.

  Mr. Edwards greeted them cordially but with surprise. After they all ate bowls of porridge, Sary returned to the loft while Aline showed Berta and Celeste to a room, where they collapsed on the bed. When Celeste woke in the afternoon, she ventured to the kitchen. Mr. Edwards and Benjamin were building up the fire and putting water on to boil.

  “I can help cook,” she said.

  “Bless you, Miss Talbot,” Mr. Edwards responded. “Mr. Horn promised me a new cook and maid by now, but he hasn’t shown up with them.”

  “He may not show up ever again. He’s most likely under investigation.” As she explained what Jonathan, Captain Bancroft, and Constable Wharton had been doing, Mr. Edwards’s face grew pale.

  He sat down. “To think I’ve bought the contracts of women who have been tricked. Coerced. Peddled like objects.”

  “You didn’t know,” Celeste said.

  “Well, I do now. Even if Horn isn’t convicted, I’ll never trade with him again.” He winced. “I’ve tried to avoid trading, except for contracts. I made an exception with Sary, telling myself that her being here didn’t make me a slave owner because she was leased rather than purchased. But that was a lie. It’s essentially the same thing.”

  Celeste frowned, confused. “But you’re a slave owner, regardless.”

  He looked up at her questioningly.

&nb
sp; “Joe? Benjamin?” she prodded.

  He blinked, surprised. “No. They’re not slaves. They’re free.”

  “Really?” Celeste was shocked. All this time she’d assumed his workers were enslaved.

  “Yes. I pay them a wage. They choose to stay, at least for now.” He sighed. “Finding good labor is a constant challenge.”

  Celeste’s heart warmed even more toward this man who had been so kind to her. “Perhaps you could advertise up north. Or I could write to my mother to find out if there are any young women she knows who want to come to Virginia.” Celeste couldn’t imagine women from their congregation yearning for an adventure across the sea, but her mother had taken many girls under her wing through the years from all sorts of different situations. “You could pay their passage so they wouldn’t be at the mercy of a sea captain or middleman.”

  “I’ll think about that,” Mr. Edwards said, standing. “In the meantime, I’ll gratefully take you up on your offer of cooking, with Sary’s help.” He smiled. “We don’t have many patrons tonight, but when the Court convenes, it will be a different situation.”

  A half hour later, Sary joined them in the kitchen, and with her advice, Celeste managed to make a game pie from some rabbits a hunter had sold Mr. Edwards that morning. Then she helped serve the meal to the handful of soldiers and others in the dining hall. She was surprised when the governor came in with Constable Jones, wanting to speak with Celeste in private. She joined them in the sitting room, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Are you well?” the governor asked.

  She nodded.

  “That was quite an ordeal yesterday.”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded in the constable’s direction. “I filled Jones in on what is going on. He’ll be interviewing maids here and then assisting in the investigation down in Norfolk.”

  Celeste looked at the constable, though she didn’t say anything. Then she sighed. Despite all he’d put her through, she was grateful for his help.