by Jo Goodman
The woman engaged in earnest conversation with Cam was easily one of the most beautiful women Jessa had ever seen. Her coal black hair was thick and lustrous, arranged in ringlets that fell lightly against her slender neck. Her face was a near perfect oval, her features sculpted and pared as though crafted by a fine hand. Dark, luminous eyes were feathered by heavy lashes and her brows were faintly winged.
Her form was less spare than the delicate planes of her face, but she was tall, long of limb, and her curves seemed less generous than they actually were.
There was no evidence the woman was in the least troubled by the oppressive late afternoon heat. The sheer white lawn mobcap she wore, trimmed with lace and a blue taffeta ribbon, showed no signs of wilting. The bodice of her printed linen dress was decorated with bows, and she wore a gauze apron over her skirt. In one hand she carried a parasol, in the other, a basket of fruit.
Jessa felt herself growing cold as the woman became aware of her presence in the entranceway. It did her little good to hope this stranger might be some neighbor come to wish Noah well. She knew differently. This beautiful, poised woman was Hilary Bowen.
"May I help you?" asked Jessa, stepping forward. "Cam, will you see what's bothering Gideon?"
Cam hovered uncertainly for a moment, reluctant to leave his mistress alone. It took an almost imperceptible nod from Jessa to get him to move.
"Oh, good," the woman sighed when Cam was gone. "I wasn't able to make that boy understand me. I'm Miss Bowen, Mr. McClellan's fiancée. Perhaps you can tell me where I might find him?"
Jessa was careful to swallow her nervous laughter. Cam must have been playing at being very slow-witted if he couldn't answer that question. "He's gone to the State House," she said.
"The State House," Hilary repeated, giving no indication whether she was displeased or satisfied with this information. Her eyes were coolly polite, their regard thorough, as she studied Jessa. "Papa sent a message to the house saying Noah had need of Sally Boley and Mrs. Harper. They'll be here directly, though I can't imagine why Noah should require more staff. You seem to have everything well in hand."
"Cam and I have made a good beginning, but I'll appreciate the help."
Hilary's eyes narrowed faintly. "Have I seen you before? At the landing perhaps?"
Gideon's fearful howl cut off Jessa's reply. "Excuse me," she said and hurried into the parlor. She scooped Gideon out of the pen. "What happened to him, Cam? How did he get this mark on his head?" She soothed Gideon, cuddling him against her shoulder, whispering sweet nonsense in his ear while she awaited Cam's reply.
Cam rocked on his heels and cast a sideways glance at the entrance where Hilary had come to stand. Her curiosity made him uneasy. "He got his head stuck between the seat and the arm of that chair," he said, pointing to the Chippendale turned on its side. "He was trying to get out He's not hurt is he?"
"No, just a little frightened."
"What have you done to the furniture?" demanded Hilary, tapping the rounded point of her parasol against the floor. "This is outrageous. Mr. McClellan prizes these pieces."
Jessa's eyes widened a little and she looked questioningly over Gideon's head at Cam. He shrugged his thin shoulders as if to say he didn't know whether Noah set great store by his furniture or not.
"That child's not likely to have any answers," Hilary continued in frigid accents. "I'm telling you Mr. McClellan will not approve. Where precisely did Noah find you?"
Hilary couldn't have been more than six years Jessa's senior, but she made Jessa feel as awkward and graceless as a schoolroom chit. "In England," she said, wiping tears from Gideon's rosy cheeks with the corner of her apron.
"That's obvious, but I cannot imagine what he was thinking." She set down her basket of fruit on a mahogany end table. "Well, I don't know whose service you were in before, but I doubt they had very exacting standards if you were permitted to rearrange their furniture in this manner. I shouldn't wonder if your brat hasn't drooled on the seat covers. He is your brat, isn't he?"
Jessa's chin lifted a notch. "He's my son, yes. And generally he prefers chewing the chair legs to drooling on seat covers."
Hilary's eyelashes fluttered at this insolent riposte from a servant and her poise noticeably faltered. "Have a care with your tongue," she said, managing an even tone though her eyes pinned Jessa in place.
Cam drew himself straighter and stepped in front of Jessa as if to protect her. "See here, Miss Bowen, you oughten to—"
Placing her hand on Cam's shoulder, Jessa silenced him. "It's all right, Cam." For all that Hilary's assumptions and attitudes rubbed her the wrong way, Jessa couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It was obvious she had yet to learn of Noah's marriage. "Would you take Gideon in the kitchen? I saw that Henry brought back a stoneware jug of milk. I think Gideon would like a cup. And have some yourself if you'd like."
Cam was happy to leave the room and he hurried out, avoiding Hilary's disdainful stare as he did so.
When Cam was gone Jessa began righting the furniture. "It's unfortunate you have arrived at this time, Miss Bowen. I regret that I seem to have misrepresented myself to you and I have no wish to do that. You should know—"
Hilary tapped her parasol impatiently. "It makes no difference to me if you are in charge of the staff or a kitchen drudge," she said. "I understand there exists such a class distinction in England, even among the servants. However, it matters not at all here. You will find that I deal fairly with all the help. In return I expect the work to be satisfactory. This," she said, waving her hand in a gesture that was at once graceful and scornful, "is not satisfactory."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Bowen," Jessa said with calm dignity, "but I am not your help. And it seems to me that some sort of class distinction does exist or you would not speak so rudely to me when none of this is your affair."
"How dare you! Don't think I'll let this pass. You may be assured I will speak to Mr. McClellan. You will discover your position in his home is very much my affair!"
Jessa was astonished to see that Hilary's anger merely accentuated her beauty. Her cheeks flushed becomingly, her midnight blue eyes sparkled. It was only the clipped, superior tone of her voice that was repulsive. She spoke as if her words were spittle, ridding herself of them quickly, uncaring, or perhaps unconscious, of giving offense.
Seeing that she had effectively silenced Jessa, Hilary turned on her heel. "I can find my own way out, thank you."
Jessa blinked as the door closed behind Hilary. "Good," she whispered, "because the exit I had in mind was a third floor window." Shaking her head, not quite believing what had just taken place, Jessa went to the kitchen.
"Is she gone?" Cam asked.
"Yes. She wasn't very, umm, pleasant, was she?"
"If you'll pardon me for saying so, she's a bloody bi—witch," he corrected quickly. "Ask anyone at the landing."
Jessa was already thinking she shouldn't be discussing Hilary with Cam, but her curiosity got the better of her. "How do you know her?"
"Don't really know her. I saw her a few times at the landing with Mr. Noah. Miss Courtney and me, well, we saw her hit Billy with a riding crop once when he didn't move quick enough for her. You have to understand, Billy didn't do nothin', he's just a little slow sometimes." Cam tapped the side of his head. "I gave her a wide berth after that. Told Court to do the same."
Jessa didn't know what to say. She could hardly cast stones when her own treatment of Billy was little better. "Did you tell anyone?"
Cam shook his head. "Court and me thought Billy'd be the one in trouble if Miss Hilary lied about what happened. Billy thought so too. He's smart about some things."
"Yes, he is." She smiled, recalling Billy had given her a nag and a broken wagon when she was bent on leaving the landing. "Very smart. Here, let me have Gideon. If you'll draw me some water and heat it, I'll give Gideon a bath. He's a sight dirtier than either you or I—and that's saying something." She plucked Gideon from Cam's arms and went
to the back door. "Henry, have you finished with the chicken? Mr. Noah's going to be home soon and I promised him dinner." Grinning his wide, gap-toothed smile, Henry held up his work by the feet. "A plump one it is, Miz McClellan. I'm skinnin' some taters now and directly I'll shell the peas."
"Do you cook, Henry?"
"That be a matter of some debate betwixt me and Tildy, ma'am. She don't think so. I do."
Jessa laughed. "Well, I'd certainly be willing to judge the matter this evening. Could I prey on your good will and ask you to make dinner?"
"Be more'n happy to."
"Thank you," Jessa said with heartfelt relief.
Gideon's bath was delayed because Cam had to leave to buy firewood, kindling, and coals for the kitchen hearth. During his absence Sally Boley and Mrs. Harper arrived. Jessa could have cried that she had to greet them looking no better than a chimney sweep. They were obviously shocked to discover she was the mistress of the house and not one of the staff. Sally's dimpled smile wavered unsteadily as her mouth kept opening and closing. She dipped half a dozen curtsies before Mrs. Harper—definitely the more restrained of the pair—clamped her hand over Sally's plump forearm and held her still. It was subtly clear in a matter of minutes that they were pleased to be in Noah's employ again.
Mrs. Harper was a diminutive woman with clear blue eyes that seemed strangely beautiful in a face otherwise so plain. She had a score of years on Jessa, but at the moment she radiated more energy in her little finger than Jessa had in her entire body. She was also sympathetic to this fact, taking charge almost immediately. While she and Sally sniffed around the kitchen, Henry was dispatched to carry their bags to the third floor. It was their opinion that Henry could not cook, given the way he had cut the chicken and allowed the potatoes to brown in the hot sun while he shelled the peas. Sally stood militantly in the center of the kitchen and threatened him with the flat of a skillet if he set foot in there again except to take his meals.
"That's what Tildy always say," he said, accepting the situation good-naturedly. "If you don't need me here I'll see about getting Mr. Noah's rig and horses stabled."
Cam returned shortly after Henry left. He was a little overwhelmed with activity in the kitchen. Sally was banging kettles, searching for what she needed, and Mrs. Harper was slicing potatoes and dropping them into the water he had drawn for Gideon's bath.
"More water, ma'am?" he asked Jessa.
"I think so," she said, pushing away from the wall where she had been leaning, too weary to take Mrs. Harper's earlier suggestion that she retire to her room. "I'm taking Gideon upstairs with me. If you'd bring up the water when it's warm, I'll wash him there." As Cam turned to go she added, "I promise you won't have to lift a finger tomorrow. You can sleep till noon or fish along the Delaware or tour the city."
"No lessons?" he asked. Ever since they left the landing Jessa had been helping him with his letters and reading.
She shook her head. "No lessons." The spring in Cam's step was not comforting. "We'll begin again the day after," she called as he bounded out of the house.
* * *
Noah eased himself down on the edge of the bed. Gently tugging at Jessa's mobcap, he lifted it away from her head. The spill of her pale hair on the pillow was burnished with candleglow from the nearby lamp. There were smudges of dirt on her chin, cheek, and temple, smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes. She lay on her side, knees drawn toward her chest. Her skirt was twisted around her legs and she still wore her shoes.
"Slugabed," Noah whispered, bending low to her ear. He brushed her hair aside and kissed the soft spot behind her ear.
She stirred vaguely. "Hmmm?"
"Jessa." He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. "I dislike waking you, but you'd dislike it more if I didn't."
Yawning, she pressed her hands to her eyes and rubbed them. "Is dinner prepared then?"
"Sweet lady, dinner was prepared some hours ago and eaten by everyone but you. I've brought you a tray. Sally kept your meal warm."
Sitting up quickly, Jessa's head almost collided with Noah's. She blinked owlishly, throwing off the dregs of sleep, and looked about the room anxiously. "Where's Gideon? I brought him up here to bathe him."
"Gideon is down for the night," Noah explained gently, easing her fears. "Apparently Cam came in with the water and you were already fast asleep. Our son, however, was rearranging our belongings in the bottom drawer of the highboy."
"Oh, Lord," Jessa sighed. "I must not have closed the drawer tightly. It's a miracle he didn't bring down the chest on his head."
"Not to worry. Cam rescued him and gave him a bath. He cleaned up very nicely, too."
Jessa remembered her own dirt-streaked face and wiped at it with her apron.
Noah's hands closed over her wrists and pulled them away from her face. "Don't bother with that now. There's water warming for you downstairs, and you can have a bath as soon as you've eaten something." He reached for the tray on the bedside table and held it in front of her. "You'd better sit up a little more. That's better." He placed the tray on her lap. "Anyway, you look adorable."
"Liar. But you're sweet to say so." She speared a slice a buttered potato with her fork and began eating. "What time is it?"
"Nearly eight o'clock."
"Eight!"
"Don't fret yourself. You deserved your nap. I came home at six to a near immaculate house and mistakenly congratulated Mrs. Harper and Sally for their outstanding efforts. I can tell you, I got an earful. They took great delight in informing me that you and Cam had done most of the work and that I was the most negligent husband for not sending word that I was returning to the city and having the house prepared."
Jessa's mouth gaped a little. "They didn't say that."
"Well, I could tell they were thinking it. A guilty conscience needs no accuser."
Jessa picked some tender white meat away from the breastbone and dropped it in her mouth. "You've nothing to feel guilty about."
Noah gave a small snort. "Liar. But it's sweet of you to say so." He took a warm roll from her tray, broke it in half, and buttered each piece for her. "I understand from Cam that you had a visitor this afternoon."
She nodded. "You haven't been to see Hilary yet, have you?"
"No." He placed the roll halves back on her plate. "I'm going in a little while. What happened while she was here? Cam couldn't—or wouldn't—tell me much."
Between bites Jessa told him what had taken place. By the time she had finished Noah's scowl had deepened the lines around his mouth. "It was a natural mistake, Noah," she said, apologizing for Hilary's behavior. "And mayhap it was for the best. I don't think I should have been the one to tell her I'm your wife."
"But you did make an attempt to explain."
"Yes. Once. She wouldn't let me finish."
"Then she has no one to blame for her mistake but herself," he said. "I'm sorry you met her this way. When I talked to her father at the bank he told me Hilary was gone from the house for the afternoon. He sent a note to the house asking that Sally and Mrs. Harper come here. Hilary must have returned unexpectedly and learned they were leaving."
"How did Mr. Bowen react to your news?" she asked.
"Charles was naturally upset at first. Livid is a word that comes to mind. Hilary's his daughter after all. But he's also a practical man and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He expressed regret, asked me to deal with Hilary gently, and before I left he wished me happy."
"Quite a turn in his thinking."
Noah agreed. "I've often thought Charles rides the fence too easily. It must be deuced uncomfortable for him, never taking sides, always straddling the middle ground. The truth is, he can't offend anybody. He sincerely meant it when he wished me happy, but you can be certain that when he's consoling Hilary, he'll tell her I should be sent to perdition. He'll mean that sincerely as well."
"You will deal with her gently, won't you?"
"I'll try, though why you should wan
t me to is a mystery. Even if you were a servant, you didn't deserve the edge of her tongue today."
"I have you, she doesn't," she said softly. "I can afford to be generous in regard to her feelings."
Noah leaned forward, kissed Jessa's butter-moist lips, and flicked away a crumb from the corner of her mouth with his tongue. "Aren't you just the tiniest bit jealous that I'm going to see her?" he asked. "After all, I've bathed, changed my clothes, and I'm looking remarkably well even if I must point it out myself."
"I noticed," she said dryly. "But if you can kiss me when I'm looking no better than a street beggar, I'm not worried." She slapped his hand away as his fingers began to walk up her forearm. "Tell me about the convention today. Did it go well?"
Noah moved from the bed and sat in the rocker by the window. The drapes were open, and though it was dark outside, light from the street lamps filtered into the room. "Today we argued about the need for secrecy in our work. We made a unanimous pledge, a gentleman's agreement as it were, not to discuss the meetings with anyone."
"Even wives?"
"Most especially wives," he chuckled.
"Well I like that," she said tartly.
"Actually wives were not mentioned at all. Most men in the assembly believe we have a responsibility to make the revisions, complete the writing, and present the work to the public all in a piece. If today's idle talk was any indication, there is going to be much dissension in the ranks. It wouldn't serve to have the state assemblies riled on each issue before we settle them ourselves. The pressure is enormous to do the right thing by our individual states, and yet we have an obligation to create a central government capable of keeping us united. We've agreed not to publish any details of the debates nor to keep a record of how we vote on the issues. Thus, we're given the freedom to change our minds and are protected from embarrassment should we choose to vote in ways the public might take exception to. We'll be able to talk freely without fear of reprisals."
"Your family will be outraged," she said. "They were looking forward to hearing everything that goes on."