“I fell asleep.”
“You fell asleep?” A steamy puff of air punctuated each hot and angry word. “I’ve been living in hell thinking you’d been raped, and you fell asleep? I honestly plotted how I was going to leave here and kill Mr. Berkeley. I waited outside his house making plans. Then today I see you strolling about town on the man’s arm—with your parents!”
With alarming force, he spun around and punched a post of the gazebo. The whole structure vibrated above their heads.
She took a step near him, and he held up both hands. “Don’t come near me yet. I think I want to strangle you.”
“Ian, please.” While wiping a tear that escaped down her cheek, she begged, “Please forgive me for falling asleep last night. I had a horrible day.”
“So did I,” he ground out.
“I’m sure you did.” She took a tentative step closer. “Please let me explain. Mr. Berkeley is my neighbor. I was working in the garden, and he stopped by to say hello. We were talking, and I did let him put his hands on my shoulders. I should not have allowed that. I know it, so don’t reprove me.”
She explained about Cordelia and her threats. Then said, “Obviously Mr. Berkeley never raped me. But the rumors have spread. They are ruining his life, and they could ruin mine as well if we don’t nip them in the bud. My father had the idea of the four of us strolling through town together in an attempt to stop the rumors.
“I didn’t want to do it. I promise I didn’t, but how could I say no without raising suspicions about us. Mr. Berkeley is a good man, and he thinks he is courting me.
“You are right, Ian. He does have feelings for me. I have to break this off soon, and I know it will hurt him. But I have to go along with this charade for a while until the rumors die down.”
She closed the distance between them and took his hands in her own. “Listen to me, Ian. My courtship with Mr. Berkeley isn’t real. I’m in love with you. I’m going to marry you. I’ve made a commitment to you.
“I know this is hard on you, but it’s hard on me too. We both need to be patient with each other until we can be together. Forgive me for whatever I’ve done wrong.” Over a choked sob, she asked, “Can you just hold me right now? I need you to hold me.”
Letting out a deep sigh, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her and brought her into his embrace, simply holding her.
After a long silence, he spoke into her hair, “I love you, Mercy.”
“I know you do. I love you too.”
“I’m glad you know you are mine.”
She nodded against his chest. “Let’s not quarrel anymore. I hate quarreling with you.”
“I hate quarreling with you too, and all is forgiven and forgotten, but I need you to call off this pretend courtship with Mr. Berkeley immediately. I mean it. And not just because the thought of it kills me, but because the longer it goes on, the harder it will be to break off. I’m telling you the truth, and you know it.”
She nodded again. “You are right. I’ll tell him the next time I see him.”
“Thank you. Now come here.” He brought his warm lips to hers and suddenly all her misgivings simply melted away.
****
After a long and horrible day, Addison walked home while enduring the reproachful looks of people as they stared and whispered.
Oh, how he hated this. He glanced over at Mercy’s charming house and felt a physical pull to see her. After spending the whole afternoon with her yesterday, he felt lonelier today. He didn’t want to wait until he got home and freshened up a bit. For some reason, he needed to see her now. He needed some reassurance. He wished she would hold him and just make the world go away.
He walked past her beautiful flowers and knocked on the door. A huge, surly looking man glared at him as he silently showed him into the parlor. Addison paced around the room and when his eyes fell upon the pianoforte, he pictured Mercy’s beautiful face as she played and sang. It stirred something inside him and he let out a mournful sigh.
He wanted to be with Mercy more than anything in the world, but something was not right between them. Much of his success in life was built upon his uncanny ability to read people, and when he read Mercy, he knew she was profoundly attracted to him, but hated herself for it. Something held her back from him, and he wished he knew what it was.
Suddenly, the door opened and he held his breath. Wearing a simple white muslin dress, Mercy looked like an angel as she floated across the room toward him. A smile graced her beautiful lips, but he could see the strain in her eyes as she said politely, “Mr. Berkeley, this is a surprise.”
“I hope it’s all right that I’m here. I figured if we were courting, I could stop by to see you. And please, call me Addison.”
She glanced around the room apprehensively, before blurting out, “My father is still at work, and my mother is at a literary meeting. Since I’ve never been officially courted before, I’m not sure what the rules are.” She motioned to a chair by the fire. “But have a seat and get warm. Shall I call for some tea?”
“No, thank you. I just had some before I left my office.” He sank into the chair and watched as she perched on the end of the sofa across from him looking horribly uncomfortable as she smoothed out her skirts. “You look pretty today, Mercy. Like an angel in white.”
Letting out a bitter laugh, she replied, “I’m far from an angel.”
He shook his head in confusion. “Why do you say silly things like that?”
“It’s not silly. It’s true.” Continuing to smooth down her skirts, she asked, “How was your day?”
“Horrible. How was yours?”
“Not much better. Again, I’m sorry you are going through all this.”
“Me too, but you have nothing to feel sorry about.” She nodded quickly and then her eyes darted around the room. She looked as if she was about to burst into tears.
He leaned forward and asked with concern, “Mercy, are you unwell?”
Pressing her lips together into a flat line, she shook her head and then one word squeaked out, “Yes.” Then she cleared her throat and added, “No. I mean yes.”
Reaching across the table, he placed his hand on her knee. “What is it?”
She stared down at his hand and blew out a breath of air with such force it startled him. “Oh, Mr. Berkeley. I cannot do this. I like you. I truly, truly like you. I think you are a wonderful man, and I think you are going to make a wonderful husband someday…for someone else. But not for me. The love of your life is waiting for you somewhere and as long as you are wasting time on me, you will not find her. You need someone to love you, Mr. Berkeley, it just cannot be me.”
Somehow he knew this was coming, but it didn’t lessen the pain. A rising ball of anguish settled in his throat. The only word he could say was, “Why?”
“I just…I wish…It cannot be me. Please go find a woman who will love you. I know you will make such a good husband.”
“But not for you?”
“Not for me,” she stated with finality.
A heated, heavy silence filled the room and a log fell on the fire and they both jumped. He knew he needed to get up and leave, but somehow he just could not move.
She leaned forward and said softly, “You will forget me quickly, I just know it. You are handsome, kind, smart, loyal, and hundreds of other good things. You’ll have no trouble finding a woman who’ll adore you.”
He could not keep the frustration out his voice. “If I’m all those good things, then why don’t you want me?”
The tears swimming in her eyes spilled over the sides, and she gripped his hand on her knee. “I’m just not the one for you.”
He stared at her angrily. “Why not? You at least owe me an explanation for your rejection of me.”
“I’m not rejecting you , I just—”
“You’re not? Then why do I feel so rejected?”
“I don’t want you to feel that way.”
“Then don’t discard me.”
>
She let out a groan of pain and frustration. “It’s not that simple. In fact, it’s quite complicated.”
“What’s complicated? I’ve time for you to explain.”
“Oh, Mr. Berkeley, I wish I could explain.”
“Do you think you are too good for me?”
“No, of course not. I actually think you are too good for me.”
“That is ridiculous. You are talking crazy.”
She just stared at him.
His confusion and frustration turned to anger. “Just my luck that the first time I fall in love it’s with a crazy person.”
She stared back at him with blank eyes.
It infuriated him. Jumping to his feet and glaring down at her, he said with scathing intensity, “Fine. I don’t need this. I don’t need you. I lived my life on my own without you, and I’ll continue to do so now. I’ll find someone else. I hope you are happy.” He stormed from the room, the door slamming behind him.
He made it to his house and up to his bedroom before he allowed the tears to fall.
****
Mercy wiped at her tears as she sat numbly on the chair staring at the fireplace. Mr. Berkeley had just said he was in love with her. In love with her. He looked like granite, but he was capable of love?
She couldn’t wrap her brain around the inconceivable idea. He had said she was crazy. He was probably right. Something was certainly wrong with her. A dam of emotion had built up inside her and she knew it would soon burst. She needed to get upstairs and lock herself away in her room before the torrent of emotions could no longer be contained.
When she rushed from the parlor in a mad dash to make it up the stairs unseen, she ran right into the strong wall of Barry.
With a look of sheer torture on his face he asked with barely contained rage, “Miss Creed, did Mr. Berkeley hurt you? Why are you crying?”
“He didn’t hurt me. I hurt him. But hurting him, does hurt me. He is such a good man.”
“I heard him yelling at you.”
“He only raised his voice out of pain and frustration.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and stared down at her with worried eyes. “What happened?”
“Barry, I don’t want to talk about it right now. Maybe later.”
She pulled from his grasp and ran up the stairs and away from the ox of a man who had protected her from the time she was a baby. But he could not protect her now. What could he do? What could anyone do? She flopped across her bed and cried until her tears drenched her pillow and she wondered if she would ever know what it was to feel normal again.
The squeaky hinges on her door alerted her that someone had entered the room. She twisted around to see her mother walking toward her bed with concern written all over her pretty face.
“I saw Mr. Berkeley leaving the house and then I come upstairs to find this. Mercy, what on earth happened?”
Mercy sat up and her mother perched on the side of the bed and brought her into her arms.
She repeated, “What happened?”
“I just told Mr. Berkeley I cannot allow him to court me anymore and I hurt him, which hurts me. He is such a good man.”
Her mother looked at her like she’d gone crazy. “Mr. Berkeley is a good man. The whole day yesterday I kept thinking how perfect the two of you are for each other. I cannot tell you how happy I was. You are an amazingly blessed girl to have a man like that want to court you. I don’t understand. Why would you reject him?”
What could she say? There was only one reason she’d rejected Mr. Berkeley…Ian. But she could not explain that to Mr. Berkeley and she could not explain it to her mother.
But she knew she had to say something. “He is just not the man for me. I cannot explain it any other way right now.”
“You aren’t making any sense. I was already picturing my beautiful grandchildren.”
“I’m sorry, mama. I’ll give you grandchildren someday, just not with Mr. Berkeley.”
“But I wanted Mr. Berkeley to be their father. He would be such a good father.”
“I agree. He will. But just not to my children.”
“You aren’t getting any younger. At nineteen, I was already married and had Noah. What are you waiting for?”
She wasn’t waiting for anything. She’d already found the man of her dreams, but she couldn’t say anything. First, she had to stare into Mr. Berkeley’s hurt and confused eyes and now her mother’s, while being able to explain nothing. These secrets were destroying her.
A knock sounded on the door and a maid announced that Mercy had a visitor. As she walked down the stairs she wondered if Mr. Berkeley had come back, but when she opened the door to the parlor she saw Mr. Turner nervously pacing the room.
He stopped and faced her. “Is this a good time?”
“Yes. Have a seat, Mr. Turner.”
She sat and waited for him to speak.
Finally he said in weak, shaky voice, “I want to tell Cordelia that Daisy is her sister, but I just cannot do it. I just cannot. Last spring, my wife was ranting about how I’m a shell of a man and have no emotion and Daisy felt the need to defend me, and without thinking blurted out that I had once loved deeply.
“Immediately, Daisy backtracked and tried to say that she just heard gossip from the slaves that I had been in love once before, but the woman had died. My wife had a fit and questioned me. I admitted it was true. She assumed it was a white woman I loved who died before I met her. Just with that information she has made my life miserable for the past six months.”
He lifted his tired eyes to her and she could see the pain deep inside him. “Can you imagine if she knew the truth? She might suspect the truth, but she doesn’t know and I cannot bring myself to tell her. I’m a weak man, and there are many things I cannot control. I’ve begged Cordelia to stop spreading these rumors about you, but she says Mr. Berkeley had you up against a tree and you were crying and she knows what she saw.”
“She is lying.”
“I know she is. I believe you before I would believe my own daughter. But I cannot stop her. As I said, I cannot bring myself to tell my wife and Cordelia the truth about Daisy. But there is something I can do. There is something I must do. I know I need to set Daisy free, but I cannot justify it. Money is tight for me right now and I cannot just set her free if I cannot afford to buy Cordelia another maid.
“I have it figured out, though. I will sell Daisy to you and you can set her free. Then I’ll have enough money to get another maid. And that way I can say I wanted to get rid of Daisy because I’m afraid she will teach the rest of the slaves to read.”
“How much would you sell Daisy for?”
“I know you must think me a monster for wanting to sell my own daughter, but this is the only way.”
“How much?”
“One hundred dollars. I could get more for her anywhere else if I was actually selling her.”
“One hundred dollars? My father’s in a financial slump, and I know we don’t have that much money.”
Her mind scrambled for a solution. The fine for teaching Daisy to read was one hundred dollars and Mr. Berkeley said he would pay that for her. She could ask him. She didn’t want to, but Daisy’s destiny was as stake.
Mr. Turner interrupted her thoughts by saying, “I leave to go back to Savannah the day after tomorrow. Please try to come up with the money before then. I truly want to set Daisy free.”
“I know you do. Give me until tomorrow to see what I can come up with.” She stood and walked him to the door. “Mr. Turner, you are doing the right thing.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry about Cordelia. Please know that.”
“Thank you for saying so. Good night, Mr. Turner.”
After he left, her mother came into the room with a puzzled expression. “What was that about?’
“He wanted to apologize for Cordelia’s behavior.”
“That was good of him.”
“Yes, it was.” She wanted to tell her mo
ther about his offer to sell Daisy to them, but it would be hard to explain. Slavery was illegal in Boston and she didn’t even have the money anyway. She would take this one step at a time, and the first step would be to speak with Mr. Berkeley tomorrow.
The next morning she slipped out of the house and into the pouring rain as she hurried up the street to Mr. Berkeley’s house.
A pleasant butler opened the door and told her Mr. Berkeley already left for the day. She wanted to visit him at his office, but without a coach it would be almost impossible. In this horrible weather the journey to the docks would be miserable.
Understanding Mercy Page 19