Understanding Mercy

by Janelle Ashley

  “I heard daddy mention that Mr. Berkeley’s successful business is cutting into his.”

  “Hmmm. I know your father’s business isn’t doing well right now, but I don’t think your father would lay the full blame of that upon Mr. Berkeley’s success.” A slight frown pulled her brows together. “And how do you know the man is a rake?”

  “I’ve heard the rumors.”

  “Rumors aren’t always true. And even if it is, some say reformed rakes make the best husbands.”

  “Well, I have no desire to reform him. I’ll leave that up to some other poor soul.”

  “He is charming. How could you resist him?”

  “Priscilla said he’s so charming he could get the bees to hand over their honey. I’m sure it’s true, but I’ll keep mine. Let him get his honey from some other bees.”

  Her mother frowned, “Mercy, do you look down upon him because he isn’t of your class?”

  “No. That has nothing to do with it.”

  She wished she could tell her mother that she didn’t look down upon Ian who wasn’t in the upper class. The last three months had been the most thrilling of her life. Love was glorious. She now understood why the poets spoke of the rapturous wonder of two hearts entwined as one. Someday soon her name would be Mercy Magregor. It even sounded good. And once she got married, they’d have brown-haired, brown-eyed boys like their father, and blond-haired, green-eyed girls like their mother. Her life would be a fairytale. She had it all planned.

  But she couldn’t tell her mother this. Ian had not made his money, but he kept promising that he would soon. He wanted her to be patient, and she was trying.

  Her mother’s sweet voice interrupted her thoughts, “You know Mercy, some may look down upon Mr. Berkeley, but I don’t. I admire a man who can work hard and make something of himself. This is America, not England and all its class regulations. Our ancestors came to America to be free from that. Keep an open mind toward Mr. Berkeley.”

  She nodded, but how could she keep an open mind toward him? Her Ian had been a war hero, while Mr. Berkeley roamed the seas like a pirate taking advantage of the war, stealing loot to line his own pockets. Ian helped her father with his business, whereas Mr. Berkeley hurt her father’s business. Ian was humble and kind, whilst Mr. Berkeley walked around with a strut as if he owned the world. And at this rate, he probably would.

  Mercy could never be with a man that cared so much about money. Just the sight of Mr. Berkeley took her breath away and made her insides feel like pudding. All this more evidence of his danger. The less she had to be around him the better.

  “I have an idea,” her mother suggested. “Let’s stop by the sweet shop, buy some treats and take them to your father at his office.”

  “Oh, can we please just go home,” she begged. The thought seeing Ian in front of her mother and father made her feel nauseous.

  “Mercy, this isn’t like you. You always like to visit your father. Although he told me you haven’t been there for awhile.”

  “I do like visiting him, but I’m tired right now, and I need to start working on my dress.”

  “There’s plenty of time for that and I will help you. Let’s go.”

  Mercy found herself being pulled along to Pierre’s Sweet Shop, and less than thirty minutes later, they walked into her father’s office. Her heart pounded when Ian glanced up at her.

  Ian nodded politely, “Hello, Mrs. Creed.”

  “Hello, Mr. Magregor. This is my daughter Mercy.”

  He nodded with a smile. “We met when she came in to visit with her father several months ago.” He glanced at Mercy as if she was a person of little consequence. “Nice to see you again, Miss Creed.”

  My, he was a good actor. He should be on the stage. Deception seemed to come a little too easily to him. But not to her. She felt wretchedly dishonest and she stumbled awkwardly. “Oh, a, yes. You too.”

  Her mother looked at her frowning. “So you already met Mr. Magregor? You didn’t tell me that Mercy. Is that a habit you are forming, going around meeting handsome men and not telling me about it?”

  Ian tilted his head and looked at her darkly as he raised an eyebrow. “Handsome men?”

  In a lilting voice her mother patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, you are a handsome man, Mr. Magregor. Don’t act so surprised.”

  Mercy knew that wasn’t where his surprise came from. He already knew he was a handsome man. She wanted to put his mind at ease. “It’s nothing. I met Mr. Berkeley a few months ago. It was of little consequence to me so I forgot to mention it to my mother. We just ran into him down the street. Well, actually,” she continued nervously, “We almost ran into him, but he stopped just in time.”

  Ian’s eyes darkened more. “Addison Berkeley?”

  Her mother laughed. “Yes. Can you imagine she met a man like that and failed to mention it to me?”

  With a sweet smile, he looked up at her mother. “No, Mrs. Creed. I cannot imagine that.”

  Happy to have an ally, she reached into the box and declared, “Here have a treat.” She placed a little lemon tart on his desk.

  “Thank you,” he smiled up at her again, his eyes full of innocence. “That is kind of you.”

  With amusement, she said, “Yes, well, just don’t tell James that I gave you one. He is quite stingy with his tarts. I know he likes you, but if he knew you were touching his tart, he would not be happy.”

  Mercy knew her mother was trying to tease, but she couldn’t even force a smile. Shame washed over her like an angry wave, and she braced herself by a table to keep from toppling under its weight. It almost seemed like her mother was trying to make a point, but it must be her own guilty conscience.

  She was like the tart, and Ian kept touching her, and she had no doubt that her father would not be happy about it. She’d always wanted to be a good girl, and now she had become a liar. All along she’d known she was deceiving her mother, but to have it flaunted right in front of her face made her feel sick.

  Her mother looked at her with concern and walked to her side. “Sweetheart, are you ill? You look terribly pale. Actually, you look a little green.”

  “I’m not feeling well.”

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve taken you home when you asked me to earlier.” She led Mercy to a chair. “Here, sweetheart. Sit down and I’ll take these treats to your father. I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as her mother disappeared down the hall, Ian looked up at her. “Are you truly sick or was that just an excuse so you could be alone with me?”

  “I truly feel sick. The guilt of deceiving my parents makes me ill. I don’t like it, Ian.”

  “I don’t like it either, but what do you want me to do? I cannot have you yet, but I will not give you up.” His voice filled with intensity as he murmured, “You are mine, Mercy. You do know that?”

  His? Somehow his words didn’t sit well. “You speak of me like I’m your property, and I don’t like that. But to put your mind at ease, you must know I’m committed to you. Don’t ever doubt my loyalty.”

  “I don’t like you talking with Addison Berkeley.”

  “I can’t be rude and ignore him. You have nothing to worry about.” Letting out a weary sigh, she whispered, “How much longer, Ian? I cannot continue this deception. It’s eating away at me.”

  He ran both his hands through his hair in agitation. “Mercy, believe me, I’m trying. You must trust me. I’m sorry for making you wait, but I’m making my money soon. It won’t be much longer. Meet me in the gazebo at eleven o’clock tomorrow night, and I’ll make it up to you, love.”

  “I have to go to the Governor’s Ball tomorrow night, but I’ll meet you there the next night.”

  “You’re going to a ball without me?”

  “Well, you weren’t invited, and I have to go. I wish you were going, believe me.”

  “You don’t have to go.” Anger crept into his voice as he commanded, “Get out of it.”

  Shaking her head with a fro
wn, she answered, “I cannot. Besides, I want to go. I’ll get to see many old friends that I haven’t seen for awhile. But I’ll tell you all about the ball the next night when I see you.”

  His eyes darkened as he opened his mouth to respond, when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Ian looked down and began writing as if he didn’t even know she sat in the room.

  When her father walked in, she noticed deep lines creasing his handsome face that she’d never noticed before. He crouched down in front of her and laid his hand across her forehead, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God you don’t have a fever.” With worry etched all over his face, he asked, “Where do you feel sick? I heard about a few more cases of yellow fever breaking out in Philadelphia. I hope it has not come here too. Blasted mosquitoes.”

  Mercy reassured him, “I’m just tired, Daddy. That is all. I promise.” Losing Noah had just about destroyed him. Losing her would finish the job.

  “I’ll have my coach take you home.” Lifting her gently to her feet, he soothed, “Come along, darling.”

  As she found herself being ushered out of the room, she glanced back at Ian to see him glowering. Did he really expect her to stay home from the Governor’s Ball? How selfish. She truly wished he was going. When he became an important man, they could attend functions like this together. In the mean time, she wasn’t going to sit at home. He shouldn’t expect her to.

  When she got home, she took a quick bath. After putting on a simple, cotton dress, she stood at the window and noticed Daisy lurking behind a tree in the garden. With all that happened, she’d forgotten their reading lesson. Grabbing her Bible off the nightstand, she crept out to the gazebo.

  As soon as Daisy saw her, relief flooded her face. “I’m glad you made it, Mercy. I was getting worried.”

  “Everything is fine. Sorry I’m late.”

  “It’s all right. I’m just anxious to find out what happens to Jacob and Rachel. It’s so romantic that he had to wait seven years to marry her, but it seemed like a day because of his great love for her.”

  Mercy nodded and let out a deep breath. She’d only waited three months for Ian and already she grew aggravated as if the wait was an eternity. She just needed to be patient.

  Mercy read the story and then handed the Bible to Daisy to read. She stumbled over a few words, but it was obvious that Daisy had become a good reader.

  “Honestly, Daisy, I think you have got to be one of the smartest girls I’ve ever met,” Mercy praised.

  Daisy beamed and then reached into her pocket to pull out a handkerchief with an exquisite embroidering of daisies and the initials MPC for Mercy Prudence Creed. “This is so you won’t forget me. I wish I could give you more.” She looked away and wiped tears from her lovely brown eyes. “You’ve been good to me, and you aren’t even related to me.”

  Something about those words reverberated inside Mercy and it was as if a candle had been lit, bringing illumination inside her. Related. Daisy was much darker, but her large brown eyes and the shape of her face looked remarkably like Cordelia. She gasped at the thought. “Daisy. Is Mr. Turner your father? Is Cordelia your half-sister?”

  Panic covered her face, and she shook her head. “Why would you think that? I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to. You look just like Cordelia.”

  “Please say nothing. Mr. Turner knows and that is why he allows me to live in the big house. My mama died when I was a little girl, and Mr. Turner took me in. He’s a busy man, but when I see him, he’s kind to me. But Cordelia and her mother don’t. They’d be even more horrible to me if they did.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. We are friends, and I must say I like you much better than Cordelia.”

  Daisy laughed, “I will not tell her you said that.”

  “Good idea.”

  Daisy stood and smiled at Mercy. “I never thought I would have a friend like you.” She turned to leave. “Good-bye until tomorrow.”

  Mercy walked to the house, considering another bath, but as soon as she opened the back door, she heard her mother’s voice.

  “Mercy, come into the parlor.” She walked into the beautifully decorated room and her mother patted the sofa next to her. “Sit, Mercy. I want to talk to you about something.”

  A rising sense of panic filled her. “What is it?”

  Her mother stared at her for several moments. “I know you are keeping something from me, and it hurts that you wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  Instantly, the pressure of all the secrets flooded out. Tears streamed down Mercy’s cheeks. “Oh, mama. I wanted to tell you. I did.” Between sobs she got out, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t see you in the gazebo?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I’ve not been thinking clearly for awhile.”

  Her mother brought her into an embrace. “Oh, darling, don’t weep. I’m actually proud of you.”

  Mercy pulled back and stared. “Proud?”

  “Of course. You are risking the intense anger of the Turner family, and yet you defy their oppressive ways by teaching Daisy to read. I think it’s a noble thing you’re doing. It’s best that no one else knows, but I’m glad I do. I can tell I raised you right. Pastor Thompson prayed you’d be a guide to others, showing mercy. And look at you, darling.”

  Mercy buried her face in her hands and let out a moan of anguish. She couldn’t bear her mother’s praise when she’d been so wicked. She sneaked out almost every night after her parents went to sleep and let Ian hold her and kiss her in the gazebo. Yet her mother was praising her virtue. If only she knew. Mercy wanted to confess, but what if her parents forbid her from seeing Ian again. She couldn’t live without him. As much as she hated the dilemma she found herself in, she saw no way out.

  Her mother patted her leg. “I know you feel poorly so sit here and I’ll get your gown. We can sew on the appliqués together. I’m going to lower the neckline, shorten the sleeves and then add lace to both. I’ll cut away the front, adding an underskirt of lace. It’ll look so different when we’re finished, no one will know the original gown was from two years ago. They’ll think it’s the latest fashion from Paris.”

  With a smile, Mercy asked, “When you’re finished, I’m sure they will. But what about you, Mama? What are you going to wear?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, and I don’t care. No one worries about what an old, married woman wears.”

  Mercy loved her for putting on a brave face, but she knew that her mother loved to dress pretty and wear new gowns. This had to be difficult on her.

  “Well, no matter what you wear, you’ll still be the prettiest, old married woman there.” Mercy said.

  Her mother reached down and kissed her forehead with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  The next afternoon, Mercy tried on her finished dress. She held it out and spun around. Her mother’s magic with a needle had indeed turned this dress into a gorgeous gown that looked entirely new. “Thank you, Mama. It’s truly beautiful.”

  “As are you. Every man there will want to dance with you.”

  Mercy nodded and tried to smile. The man she wanted to dance with wouldn’t even be at the ball. She turned around and asked, “Can you unbutton me please? It’s so hot and humid I’ll sweat all over this dress and ruin it before tonight.”

  As her mother undid the little buttons, she teased, “Ladies perspire. They don’t sweat.”

  Mercy forced a half-hearted smile. Since I’m not much of a lady, I probably just sweat.

  Table of Contents

  Understanding Mercy

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

&n
bsp; Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen