A Question of Class

by Julia Tagan

  “Mr. Delcour is a powerful man,” she said at last. “You must be tired. What can I do to keep you awake?”

  “I’d like you to tell me how you went from servant girl to high society, if you don’t mind. That seems like the kind of story to keep me awake. What happened after you left the Allens?”

  Catherine pursed her lips, remembering the first week on the ship. She had deftly avoided Morris’s advances. Instead, she’d teased him, offering up a kiss in return for French lessons, or allowing him to touch her on the throat after he taught her to dance.

  “I knew why I had been chosen to join him. I was innocent but I was aware of what he wanted out of me. It meant I had a certain power over him.”

  “Most women might not see it that way.”

  She stared at his profile. She was unsure how much to tell him, and must choose her words carefully.

  “I had always wanted more out of my life. Once I learned to read, I would sneak into the Allens’ library and steal books to read late into the night. I didn’t want to work as a servant, so I used to pretend I was one of the girls in the books. When I went on errands for Mrs. Allen, I’d carry myself like a princess, and be imperious with the butcher or the fishmonger or whomever I was supposed to fetch something from. I’m sure they thought I was an awful brat.”

  Benjamin grinned. She enjoyed making him smile.

  “I’m sure being beautiful helped.”

  She deflected his compliment. “Once I boarded the ship with Mr. Delcour, I decided I wouldn’t act like a servant. Instead, I acted as if I were an heiress off to Europe for the summer, one who expects men to act decently. Mr. Delcour was surprised.”

  “I would guess he was also intrigued.”

  “Yes. I’m sure I was quite intriguing, and not what he expected. By the end of the first week, I was sitting with him at the captain’s table for meals. The ship was carrying more cargo than passengers, so it was a motley crew, but I did everything I could to listen to the cadence of intelligent conversation and mimic the mannerisms of the few other women on board.”

  “Delcour was smitten, then.”

  “He was.” Catherine remembered the pleading look on Morris’s face as he promised to buy her the best gowns and jewels as soon as they were settled in Paris, but still she had kept out of his bed. One evening, sick with desire, he had asked her to marry him and the ship’s captain obliged. Catherine had counted down the days until they saw the shores of France and she could begin her new life as Mrs. Morris Delcour.

  Catherine concentrated on the road. She couldn’t meet Benjamin’s gaze. “We were married on board the ship, and that was that.” She could tell by his silence he understood what she had done. “When we arrived in France, we found ourselves the toast of the town. It had been a long time since Mr. Delcour had returned to France, and he was welcomed back like a hero. Between his wealth and my desperate need to please, we were soon invited into the inner circle of countesses and baronesses.”

  “Unlike in New York.”

  “Yes. Paris was magical. It didn’t matter where I came from or who I was, the ladies loved I was trying to speak French. We went to the liveliest parties and dined in the best restaurants. But it wasn’t easy. I spent every moment noting the habits of the women of Parisian society. Like how the Countess de la Pagerie laughed so prettily, or how Duchess Junot danced, or the correct way to hold a fan.”

  “You were a quick study, as you’d been at the Allens.”

  “I was. And Mr. Delcour was quite proud of me.”

  “When did things go sour?”

  She sighed. A cool breeze swept over them, carrying the scent of the ocean with it, and she pulled her spencer tighter. “Not until we were in New York for a month or two. At first, we were invited to several teas and concerts, and everything seemed lovely. Whenever I was asked about my family, I would say I was an orphan, raised in Bridgeport, and Mr. Delcour would change the subject. But someone made inquiries, and within a few months everyone knew my parentage, and that I had been a scullery maid.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I enjoyed being on the sea,” he said. “It didn’t matter where I was from, or who I was.”

  “Yes, but you’re a man. You can make your own decisions and earn your own wages. I did the best with what my situation warranted.”

  When he didn’t respond, she grew silent. She had broken many unwritten rules in her short life, including rising above her station. Benjamin, however sympathetic he seemed at the moment, was only accompanying her in order to gain evidence against Morris. He was using her, as Morris had used her and she had, in turn, used Morris. And when the scales were no longer balanced, she was always the one tossed aside. Her intelligence only got her so far, her beauty would fade and she’d soon be destitute.

  “We need to figure out how to get your sister,” he said. “We’ll be there early in the morning. Is there an inn where I can get a couple of hours of sleep when we first arrive?”

  “An inn?” She was startled. Was Benjamin assuming they would play the roles of husband and wife? Perhaps he wanted something more from her as payment than the ledger.

  “The horses will need some time to rest.”

  “I see. And what will we tell them at the inn?” she added curtly.

  “We’ll say I’m the servant and you’re the mistress and you can order me around, like the stories you used to read.”

  Catherine considered the idea. “I may enjoy that.”

  “Once I’ve rested, I’ll go to the Allens’ house on some kind of premise and see if I can’t get word to Sophie to meet us back at the inn. You’ll need to stay indoors, as we can’t have anyone recognizing you and alerting them.”

  “Agreed,” she said.

  “For now, you should try to sleep. One of us should be alert tomorrow so we can make a quick escape.”

  Catherine was uneasy. She wondered about the future, about what she and Sophie would do once they were reunited, and where they would go. She fell into a restless slumber, lulled by the movement of the chaise and the stomping of the horse’s hooves.

  * * * *

  The sound of raindrops woke her up. She sat upright. The carriage was no longer moving, and Benjamin wasn’t beside her. She wondered if he’d abandoned her, if he’d realized the danger of their plan was not worth the trouble.

  She cautiously opened the door of the chaise. It was parked under a covered bridge, and all around her was darkness. The rain became deafening and as she stepped out she was startled by a flash of light followed by a sharp clap of thunder.

  “I’m over here.”

  At the next bolt of lightning, she saw Benjamin’s silhouette. He was standing near the opening of the bridge, looking out into the night. Relieved, she joined him.

  “We’ll have to wait for it to stop before we can go on,” he said. “It’s only a thunderstorm, so it should pass over quickly.”

  “How long have we been driving?”

  “About six hours. Dawn will be breaking soon.”

  She shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “It’s drafty.”

  He took off his coat and offered it to her. She wondered what he thought of her now he knew the truth about her short courtship with Morris, and the circumstances of her marriage.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  They stood close to each other, and Catherine had the urge to lean against him, have him put his arm around her as he had when they had escaped from the fire. She shivered again.

  “Do you want my shirt?” he asked, laughing.

  “No, no. This is enough.”

  A rush of energy ran down her body, settling between her legs. She wanted Benjamin. She had never felt this way with Morris, she’d behaved the way she thought he wanted her to. But now she wanted to take pleasure for her own sake, if only to feel the skin of this man against hers.

  The rain slowed to a drizzle and she stepped out from under the covered bridge. She lifted her fac
e and opened her mouth, catching the last drops of the storm. When she glanced over at Benjamin, he was staring at her strangely.

  “I need to splash some water on my face.” She headed down toward the river.

  Dawn hadn’t broken yet, and there was a blue, otherworldly hue to the woods. The banks of the river were grassy and she trod slowly, lifting her skirts to avoid getting them wet. She found a large stone that cropped out of the bank and stood on it, looking around. The air was fresh and clean and, even though her life was soon to be in ruins, Catherine was hopeful she would figure it out. There was something about having Benjamin beside her that made her feel safe. She couldn’t trust him, of course, and he’d be gone as soon as he got his hands on Morris’s secrets, but for now she was glad to have him near.

  The river was a gentle one, and Catherine put her hand in and watched the trail of its wake. She knelt down and scooped up some water, splashing it on her face.

  “You should try it,” she called. “The cold will wake you right up.”

  Benjamin joined her on the rock. He splashed water on his face and ran his hands through his hair, droplets pouring down the side of his cheeks. His profile was striking.

  He placed his hand gently on the side of her face. They were inches from each other. Catherine responded eagerly, pushing her body close to his. They kissed, and she was surprised at how different it was from their first encounter in the carriage. Before, she’d been fueled by the desperation of her disastrous meeting with Percy, but this time she wanted to explore Benjamin, and he responded with a similar gentleness.

  His tongue reached into her mouth. She teased him with her tongue, pulling back ever so slightly then encouraging him to go deeper. He kissed the side of her neck and traced the hollow of her throat with his tongue, moving his lips down her body.

  She didn’t move as he slid her dress off her shoulders. He cradled her breasts in his hands and gently sucked her nipples. The fire running through her body was almost painful, and she was wet with longing.

  A groan escaped from her throat as he took both breasts firmly in his hands, his fingers spread, containing them as best he could. They spilled over and Catherine loved the fact he was getting pleasure from her body. She wanted to be claimed and taken. She was greedy to see his naked shoulders, the place where his hip hollowed down between his legs, and what his face looked like when he reached the heights of pleasure. She wanted to watch him release himself into her, and to use her body to make all of his reserve disappear.

  “Where can we go?” she asked.

  Benjamin gave a hoarse laugh. “Nowhere.”

  “What do you mean?” She was surprised at the huskiness of her own voice.

  “It’s soaking wet out here and we need to get the horses moving again. Bad timing on my part.”

  “You’re right.”

  She pulled her dress back on and he helped her to her feet. They were both unsteady. Benjamin glanced at the sky.

  “It’ll be getting light soon. We should carry on.”

  As they made their way back to the carriage and the waiting horses, he spoke so softly Catherine wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. “I want to be clear with you. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I don’t have to do what?”

  “This. To be with me.”

  She stopped, irritated. “I realize that. I want to do it. You want to do it.”

  “You had to with Delcour. I don’t want you to feel the same way with me.”

  “But it’s not like that.” She was frustrated, both physically and mentally. “This is different.”

  Catherine placed her hands on her hips, trying to stay in control. She was burning up inside, and wanted relief so much. “Perhaps you think this is what I usually do, throw myself at men? And you don’t want to be added to the list of my conquests.”

  Benjamin said nothing. Birds broke into a raucous morning song and filled the silence between them.

  A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard. She had opened up to Benjamin during the carriage ride, told him things she had never told anyone. She had let down the mask she wore day in and day out, trying to be fancier than she was. But in the end, she was only a girl from Bridgeport who had nothing but her looks to carry her through the day. And with Benjamin, that wasn’t enough. Even now, after she’d told him everything, he still suspected she was using him in some way.

  “We should go,” she said, and for the remainder of the ride, the two drove along in a stony silence.

  12

  The ships docked at Bridgeport’s harbor brought back memories both pleasant and painful to Benjamin. He was energized by the sailors busy at work on the vessels and the flurry of activity dockside. Part of him loved the sea and being removed from civilization’s constraints. But the work onboard grew tedious, and the days became desolate and repetitive after several weeks or months. Still, the ocean had been his home for many years after he’d fled Haiti, and part of him ached to take to the water. The more time he spent with Catherine, the more he wondered what his master plan was all about. Delcour was a fool and a coward. But so many thoughts of Catherine filled Benjamin’s head they crowded out the ruminations that had kept him up deep into the night the past two decades, imagining his revenge.

  Catherine was a complete enigma to Benjamin. Even now, when she was angry with him, her eyes were bright and lovely. He could sense her anticipation at seeing her sister once more and her skin glowed in the morning light. He wished she would look at him, but she refused. If only he’d handled things better beside the river.

  Overwhelmed by the sight of her body, and her bare skin, he had desired her more than anyone. And then he’d ruined it. He had somehow said the wrong thing, but he was exhausted from the drive and right now all he wanted was to find an inn as soon as possible and sleep for several hours. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to think clearly when he needed to.

  “There’s an inn a little further down this road,” she said. “Go left at the fork.”

  Benjamin followed her directions and pulled up in front of a three-story building with a long front porch lined with several mismatched chairs.

  “I’ll go inside and tell them I’m your servant and we need two rooms,” he said. “Be sure to act the part. We don’t want to raise suspicions.”

  The proprietor barely glanced at Benjamin as he registered under false names. He went back outside, extended his hand to help Catherine down from the carriage and escorted her inside.

  “I do appreciate your help,” she said to the proprietor. He was an older man with spectacles on the end of his rather bulbous nose. “Is there any way I can get some breakfast sent to my room? I’m hungry after the long journey.”

  “Of course, ma’am. I’ll have the cook send up coffee and rolls. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No.” She turned to Benjamin. “I’m going upstairs to freshen up. Make sure the horses are attended to.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a curt nod.

  “And be sure to freshen up yourself. You are rather ripe.”

  The proprietor stifled a laugh.

  “Of course, ma’am,” Benjamin muttered under his breath.

  He went back outside, but not before hearing her complain in a loud voice to the proprietor about how difficult it was to find manservants of even average intelligence.

  The horses were exhausted, and Benjamin arranged to have them settled in stalls with hay and water. He took the servant’s entrance into the inn and followed the directions of one of the maids to a room on the top floor. Although the room was tiny and had a rather lumpy bed, its garret window had an expansive view of the harbor.

  “There’s fresh water in the basin.” The maid lingered in the hallway for a moment. “Would you like me to bring up some bread, cheese and ham for you?”

  “That would be lovely.” Benjamin smiled through his exhaustion. The maid was young and pretty but plainly dressed, probably what Catherine would look like if she h
adn’t escaped out of Bridgeport.

  “You look awfully tired,” she said. “Let me know if I can get you an extra quilt. The nights can be chilly here by the waterfront.”

  “Thank you, I should be fine.”

  The girl tripped off to get him food. Benjamin’s body was aching for Catherine. And rest. He lay down in the bed and fell fast asleep, hearing the sound of Catherine’s moans of pleasure in his dreams.

  * * * *

  Benjamin woke with a start, not realizing where he was. The events of the past night flashed through his head. Part of him wanted to crawl back into bed and let sleep envelope him once more, but instead he rose and dressed. When he opened the door to his room, he noticed the tray of food the maid had left for him. He devoured it quickly, then walked down to the lobby as Catherine strode in through the front door. She grabbed his arm and led him to a back corner of the small foyer.

  “What were you doing outside without me?” he asked. “I thought we had agreed you would stay here while I found Sophie.”

  “I couldn’t wait. I bought this cloak and I kept the hood up. No one spotted me. Did you sleep?”

  “Yes, I did,” he answered. Catherine was out of breath and several of her curls had fallen from her chignon. She looked beautiful.

  She handed him a package. “I bought you a cloak. You’ll need it in this rain. I saw Mr. Allen coming out of his house but I haven’t seen Sophie yet. I know they’ll go to church this afternoon, if Mrs. Allen still keeps to her old habits.”

  In their cloaks, Benjamin and Catherine blended into the surroundings, or so Benjamin hoped. They trod up the main street, crowded with mud-splattered carriages. They were officially on the run. In a few hours, Mrs. Daggett would realize they weren’t planning on returning, and send word to Carpenter and to Delcour in Trenton. Benjamin would have to keep an eye out, for both their sakes.