Mercy looked up at him and muttered softly, “I just don’t understand why Mr. Berkeley would do such a thing. We don’t deserve it. Why would he show such unbelievable kindness?”
He reached down and chucked her chin. “I believe it’s called mercy, Mercy.”
****
Holding little Royce in his arms, Addison sat by the fire and stared at the sweet face looking back at him. The baby just finished his bottle and his sleepy eyes kept staying closed longer with each blink. “I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Cecil said from across the room, and then came and sat next to him. “Why can’t you stay in Boston?”
“I need to go.” He couldn’t explain to Cecil his complicated feelings in a way that would make sense.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?”
“I need to leave before the Harbor freezes over and the ice blocks me in and I can’t leave.”
“All right,” he murmured with a reluctant nod. “I won’t try to talk you out of it. I’ll see you off in the morning.”
“That really isn’t necessary. I leave at the first light of dawn to meet with some merchants before we sail. You can see me off on the ship before I leave. I’ll just take Lancelot and leave him at the stables. You can tie him to the coach and bring him home later.”
“All right. Whatever you say.” While drumming his fingers on the chair, he asked, “Lancelot is having another foal with Lily. You missed the last birth. Are you sure you want to miss this one too?”
“Nice try, Cecil.” He cleared his throat. “You do understand my instructions concerning Mr. Creed?”
“Yes, you’ve asked me that three times. If he wakes up I’m to give him the paperwork you have prepared and have him sign it and then send the paperwork to you so you can start your shipping venture together.”
“Right. And keep an eye on his ships.”
“Will do.” Cecil stood. “Well, Royce is asleep now. Let me take him from you.”
“Just leave him for awhile. I want to hold him. Go spend some time with Jane.”
“Will do,” he said again with a jaunty wink and left the room. Addison continued to stare down at the sleeping baby’s peaceful face, and realized that right now he truly understood peace. Life was not working out as he wanted it to, but in spite of that, he felt a deep contentment in his soul. For so long he worked terribly hard watching out for himself, but for the first time in his life he truly felt as if someone was watching out for him. He had a Heavenly Father now who loved him and cared for him. He had Him all along…now he just knew it.
With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the chair. What a good feeling to know Mercy and her family were falling asleep in their beds tonight that would remain their beds. Years ago Benjamin Franklin had given him a Shakespeare quote, ‘The quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It’s twice blessed—it blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.’ Shakespeare was right. The person who is shown mercy is blessed, but the person who shows mercy is blessed as well.
He felt blessed to be able to show the Creed family mercy. But as good as it felt, he hoped Mercy didn’t know it was him who paid off their debts. She probably figured it out though. He wished he knew what she was thinking right now. It made him shudder to imagine her feeling indebted to him against her will. He only wanted her to love him for him not because she felt obligated. The thought of looking into her eyes knowing that she hated him but had to be kind out of duty made him feel ill. He couldn’t see her. He wouldn’t see her. She hadn’t come to see him tonight, and he would be gone before she even woke up in the morning. Everything within him hoped she was happy. He wanted her happiness more than anything in the world.
Addison sighed as he looked at the beautiful, peaceful baby sleeping in his arms and he prayed, “In the midst of this tumultuous world, please give me peace like this and help me to trust you.” The sweet assurance of peace settled upon his soul as he continued to gaze at Royce with a contented smile.
Understanding Mercy
Understanding Mercy
Chapter Fifteen
As the first rays of the morning sun peaked over the horizon, Mercy stirred in her bed. Loud footsteps in the hallway had ruined her perfectly wonderful dream. A reoccurring dream. Bad men trapped her in a room and stripped her of all she held dear, and just at the perfect moment, Addison burst down the door, wearing his black cape, and looking quite dangerous. But then he rescued her, carried her away, held her and kissed her with such tender, yet passionate love.
Somehow she always knew Addison was meant to be her rescuer. Reluctantly, she sat up as she realized the first part of the dream had come true, Addison had rescued her, but the second part could not come true. He would never want to hold her and kiss her with such love. After she treated him so horribly, he could never forgive her. He paid off her family’s debt as a payback to the kindness her father had shown him as a child. Nothing more. Her heart had been so horribly battered and bruised she could not allow herself to even hope. A harsh knock sounded on the door and Daisy rushed into her room. “Mercy, come here. Your father is awake.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and she jumped to her feet and practically flew to his room. Her mother sat on the side of the bed, holding his hand as he gazed up at her weakly. She stroked his face with her other hand and spoke words so softly Mercy couldn’t hear them. She hated to interrupt this moment, but her mother turned around with a wide smile of relief. “Oh, Mercy. Come here.”
She walked over to the side of the bed and took her father’s other hand. “Oh, daddy. You scared us.”
His glassy eyes gazed up at her, and he tried to smile and then with a slur, mumbled, “Sorry.”
Overwhelming relief washed over her like a wave and she fell to her knees and wept against his chest. “I missed you. I missed you desperately.”
She glanced up at his face and watched as a single tear slipped from his eye. With concern she asked, “Is that a happy tear, daddy?”
He managed one slight nod in response.
Her mother patted her hand. “Sweetheart, I’ve just been telling your father about what Mr. Berkeley has done for us.”
In a thin, gravelly voice, that sounded slow and strange, he stated, “I want to see him. Go get him, Mercy.”
She nodded slowly and rose to her feet. A thousand emotions swirled through her head at the thought of seeing Mr. Berkeley right now. She needed to see him. She needed to thank him. But her embarrassment and shame made the idea unbearable. “Mercy,” her mother repeated, “Go get him.”
After getting dressed quickly in her warmest clothes she made her way up the street and knocked on Mr. Berkeley’s impressive front door while her heart pounded in her chest with such force she thought it might break through. A butler answered the door and she asked, “Is Mr. Berkeley in, please?”
“No, I’m sorry, miss. He left back for France this morning.”
“France? He is leaving for good?”
“Yes, miss.” She let out an involuntary moan of disappointment.
A pleasant looking woman came to the door with a beautiful baby in her arms. “I’m Jane Branson, Cecil’s wife. Would you like to come in and have a spot of tea with me?”
She didn’t have time for socializing, but she didn’t want to be rude. Tea did sound good and maybe this lady knew something about Mr. Berkeley that the butler didn’t know. “Yes, just for a minute. My father is expecting me back home.”
“Are you Mercy Creed?”
“Oh, dear. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m sorry.”
“Well, I knew you from your description,” she stated as she ushered her in and motioned for her to sit.
“My description?”
“Yes, Cecil said you looked like a golden haired angel—almost too beautiful to be real.”
She handed her a dainty teacup, and Mercy took it with an embarrassed smile. “That was kind of him to say.”
“Not kin
dness. Just honesty. I agree. Cecil also said he could understand why Addison is so in love with you.”
The woman’s bold words flustered her and she looked away for a moment and then stated with assurance, “Maybe he loved me once but not anymore. He could not possibly still love me.”
“He still loves you.”
“How do you know?”
“Cecil has been his closest friend for over twenty years. He knows. He said Addison is leaving Boston to run away from you.”
“If he loved me, why would he want to run away?”
She let out a little laugh. “Men are strange creatures sometimes. We think they are bold and confident and audacious, but oftentimes they are more uncertain and insecure than we are. For a year, I had to convince Cecil that he was good enough for me. Can you imagine that?”
“Well, you convinced him. You are married and have a beautiful baby.”
“Yes, we do. And that is what I want for Addison, so see if you can catch him before his ship leaves and tell him you don’t want him to move to France.”
She didn’t want him to move to France, but she didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him that. But she needed to see him. She had to thank him and hopefully bring him back for her father. She needed to get to the docks in this horrible weather, but how?
Jane interrupted her thoughts by laughingly saying, “Are you going to sit here and drink tea with me all day or are you going to get to the docks and stop Addison.”
“We don’t have a coach.”
“Cecil took the coach, but Addison has a little carriage you can take. Let me order it brought round. I’m sure his ship has not left yet. Have you seen his new ship The Charity ?”
“No, I don’t think so?”
“It’s the biggest ship in the dock.”
“I’ll find it. Could you please let my parents know I’ve gone to find Mr. Berkeley? My mother would love to see your baby. I want to see him too when I’m not in such a hurry.”
“Certainly. Your mother is a lovely woman. I’ve wanted to meet her.”
“Well, she will be as pleased to meet you as I have been.”
A short time later Mercy found herself sitting in Mr. Berkeley’s carriage barreling along to the docks. The freezing air stung her cheeks, but she hardly noticed. Jane Branson had just said Addison was still in love with her. If he was still in love with her, the thought terrified her. How could she ever trust a man again? But if he wasn’t in love with her, that thought terrified her even more. How could she live her life without him? How could she ever possibly marry another man? She twisted the black cording on her cape around and around her finger and wished the driver would hurry.
****
Addison had been conducting transactions all morning and his brain hurt. Amazing how some men wanted to haggle an hour over a dollar. What was a man’s time worth? He paced the deck of his new ship with a touch of pride. What an amazing vessel. Everything looked in order and they should start sailing soon. Cecil would be aboard in a few minutes to collect the money he just made, but he wanted to count it first so he could place the amount in his log. As Addison walked to his cabin, he motioned to the chief mate and explained, “I need to count some money and I hate getting interrupted and losing track. Stand outside my door and make sure absolutely no one disturbs me until I come out.”
“Certainly, Mr. Berkeley.”
“Thank you.” He entered his luxurious cabin, threw his coat on the bed and sat at his desk. He hated counting money, but the sooner he started, the sooner he could finish and get up to the deck.
****
The carriage came to an abrupt halt and Mercy got out at the docks. The driver pointed to a glorious ship with its unfurled sails fluttering in the wind. “There she is. The Charity . Mr. Berkeley’s magnificent new ship.”
“It’s spectacular. Thank you for the ride. I should be back in just a little while.” She scurried along the docks and noticed several strange looks. A man let out a low whistle and she wondered if he thought she was one of the many prostitutes who loitered around the docks looking for lonely sailors. Lowering her head, she walked with purpose and headed straight for The Charity.
Mercy carefully made her way across the rope bridge and then climbed up the gangway to the ship. She’d been on a few of her father’s ships before, even though she hated sailing. Once on the way to Philadelphia she vomited the entire trip. Now she felt like vomiting again. She held her hands together tightly in front of her to keep them from shaking. What on earth was she going to say to Mr. Berkeley? She practiced, but nothing sounded right. A gruff looking sailor stood in her path. “May I help you, miss? This is not a passenger ship.”
“I know. I need to see Mr. Berkeley.”
He looked at her warily and said with a touch of sarcasm, “We have many ladies coming around here wanting to meet him.”
“Well I already know him. This is extremely important. Could you please tell him Mercy Creed is here to see him?”
He let out a heavy sigh and commanded, “Stay right here,” and then he hurried away. Less than a minute later he came back and said briskly, “Mr. Berkeley is busy. He cannot see you.”
“But—”
“There is no but. He asked not to be disturbed.”
“I see. Well, I’ll just be going then.” Biting back tears, she hurried along the rope walk in fear that she would break down sobbing and embarrass herself in front of everybody on the docks. She should not be surprised. What did she expect? Did she actually think he would forgive her? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cecil Branson in the distance, but she could not talk to him right now. With a shaking hand she wiped at a tear that slipped down her cheek, and then she jumped into Mr. Berkeley’s waiting carriage.
The driver turned and looked at her curiously. “That was fast.”
“Yes, it was. Take me home please.” With a clicking noise and a flick of the reins the carriage lurched forward and Mercy buried her face in her hands. Taking several deep breaths to steady herself, she lifted her head and looked at the scenes of the city as they raced by. Soon she found herself on Tremont Street and she glanced over to see Granary Burying Ground. Impulsively, she called out to the driver, “Excuse me, but could you stop please.”
He pulled the carriage over to the side of the road. “Did you need something?”
“I just need to get out for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”
“Would you like me to get you an escort?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll be right back.”
Without giving him time to argue with her she raced toward the graveyard and opened the rod iron fence and stepped inside. She hadn’t been here for such a long time. Carefully she walked through the path trying not to slip on the ice and snow that still sprinkled the ground from the last storm.
At last she found her brother’s grave, and she sat on the ground and placed her hands on the tombstone. Choking over a sob, she whispered, “Oh Noah. I miss you. I wish you were here so you could tell me what to do. You thought it was your job to always tell me what to do and I didn’t always like it then, but now I would. It has been really hard for me since you’ve been gone. Daddy and mommy changed and I was really lonely. I’ve done bad things. Awful things. You would be terribly ashamed of me.”
Placing her head against the tombstone, she let out a soft moan. “Then Daddy almost died. It has been dreadful. I’ve made bad choices and I ruined everything. But I will be strong. I know you would want me to be strong. You always used to say, ‘Don’t be a crybaby, Mercy.’ I don’t want to be a crybaby. I don’t want to spend my life crying.” She let out a deep pent up breath and went on, “I know it’s stupid talking to you when you’re not really here. Your body is here, but your soul is in heaven. You were a good person. You died as a hero. Anyway, I need to go home before mommy and daddy get too worried.” She just told him she needed to go, but somehow she just could not move. With a weary sigh, she muttered, “I’m m
issing something in my life. I need something, Noah. What am I missing?”
“Mercy.” The voice was so low and commanding, she thought it must have come from God, and she looked straight up in the air and began to tremble. Mercy. Is that what I need?
“Mercy.” The voice came even louder this time and she spun her head around looking up through the trees. “What are you doing sitting in the snow? You will catch your death of cold?” Her eyes slid lower and she let out a breath of astonishment to see Addison sitting on his majestic black stallion just like the first time she’d seen him. With the same fluid grace he jumped down and tied his horse to the fence and came inside the cemetery and crouched down beside her. “Mercy, what are you doing?”
“Talking to Noah. I know that is silly. He cannot hear me. But I needed to talk to somebody, and I know God won’t listen. I’m too bad.”
Understanding Mercy Page 29