A Lady of High Regard

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A Lady of High Regard Page 10

by Tracie Peterson


  “Amicable indeed,” Mia’s father said, eyeing his daughter curiously.

  “But it would be a great imposition,” Mia’s mother said, sounding almost frantic. “I could not allow for that. We won’t even return until late September.”

  “It’s no imposition whatsoever. In fact, if Mia were agreeable, she could help me with the children. Our nanny desires to make a trip for a couple of weeks.”

  “I would adore that,” Mia replied. “Agnes and Bliss are such sweet girls, and baby Lenore is an absolute delight.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Mercy declared. “I will let Mr. Wilson know. I’m sure he’ll be very pleased with the arrangements.”

  Mia felt the burden lift from her shoulders in that moment. She looked to Garrett and flashed him a smile.

  “If you are certain,” Mia’s father said, still sounding hesitant.

  “I am very certain. Mia will be an asset to us,” Mercy replied. “Isn’t that true, Garrett?”

  “Absolutely. I am convinced she will take her place here as if she were family.”

  Mia nearly danced away as her parents turned to speak with other guests while Garrett and Mercy made their way across the yard. She wanted to sing and shout all at the same time. Not only would she avoid the possibility of an English husband, she could continue to aid the seamen’s wives. Of course, it would be harder to sneak around at night, given Garrett’s watchdog mentality. But with her plans to hold the sewing circle at church and Pastor Brunswick’s approval, Mia would have her opportunities for getting information.

  An hour later, Mia was surprised when Mercy approached her. “Why don’t you come with me and make sure the bedroom I have picked is to your liking.”

  “It’s not in England, so I know I’ll love it.”

  Mercy laughed and shook her head. “I do not blame you for wishing to remain at home. Ocean travel is exhausting. I do not tolerate it well.” They climbed the stairs together to the second floor of the Wilson house. Mia had only been upstairs on one other occasion, and that was six years ago when Bliss was born.

  “I chose this room for you,” Mercy said, opening a large oak door at the top of the stairs. “It’s positioned between the children’s room and the bath.”

  Mia took in the beautiful mahogany furnishings. The fourposter bed was delicately draped in white muslin to protect against mosquitoes and flies. Opposite the bed was a fireplace with a beautiful Persian rug positioned in front of it. Here a small sitting arrangement had been created with two winged chairs in a dark plum and a Biedermeier table stylishly positioned between them.

  “It’s a beautiful room. I should find it quite comfortable,” Mia assured her.

  “There is a wardrobe there for your things,” Mercy pointed out. “Of course, if you did not wish to bring a great deal here, you could always arrange with your maid for additional clothes as you needed them.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” Mercy admitted. Ruth would be staying at the house and helping with the summer cleaning that inevitably took place whenever the family went away on their respite. “I am certain to be able to work out the arrangements with Ruth.”

  “Wonderful. Perhaps Ruth could come over each morning to help you dress. My maid is overworked as it is.”

  “I’m sure she would be willing. I can arrange for her to come and help me throughout the day. Oh, and you must tell me what kind of help you’ll need with the girls.”

  Mercy laughed. “Really very little. Nanny will only be gone for two, possibly three weeks at the most. I so seldom utilize her skills anyway. She feels practically good for nothing at times. Still, it comforts Mr. Wilson for me to have her help. And there are times, especially with the new baby, that her help has been needed. Still, I can’t imagine that I will require much of you. I thought adding that comment might help persuade your father and mother.”

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate your help.”

  “I couldn’t let you be forced into a loveless marriage,” Mercy said with a wink. “Not when there are so many charming men right here in Philadelphia. Now feel free to look around. I must get back to the party.”

  “I’ve seen all that I need to,” Mia said. “The room is wonderful.”

  “There you are,” Garrett called from the doorway. “Father is looking for you.”

  Mercy smiled. “I can never stray far.” They went into the hall and closed the door. “I was just showing Mia where her room would be. Down at this end of the house is Garrett’s room, and over there is ours.” She pointed the way and Mia nodded. “Now I must hurry. Garrett will see you safely back to the party.”

  Mia waited until Mercy was out of sight before throwing her arms around Garrett and surprising them both by giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. She pulled back quite embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. You must think me incredibly childish. I was just overcome with happiness. You’ve saved my life and answered all my prayers.” Garrett put his hand to his face and looked at her with such a stunned expression that Mia felt like an idiot. “Please forgive me.”

  He shook his head. “Mia, I think there’s something we should discuss.” They moved side by side down the stairs, and when they stopped at the bottom, Garrett took hold of her hand. “I was going to wait, but I think it’s important to talk about it now. Especially since you’ll be staying here in the same house with me.”

  Mia sensed he was very serious. But what in the world could he be worried about? Was he sorry he’d invited her? “But of course. So long as I didn’t offend you; I couldn’t bear it if you were angry with me.”

  Garrett’s voice lowered. “Nothing could be further from the truth. The fact is—”

  “Mr. Wilson, I was hoping for a word with you,” a man called from the hall.

  Mia watched the emotion play on Garrett’s face. He clearly didn’t want to be interrupted. No doubt he was going to tell her how she couldn’t be sneaking around, risking her life while in his care.

  Garrett released her hand. “I suppose our conversation will have to wait.”

  “Please don’t fret so. I promise to be well behaved, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my best friend in all the world—especially after you saved me from a life of misery and marriage to an Englishman.”

  Garrett looked as if he wanted to say something more, but instead he turned to join the man who’d called to him. Mia couldn’t figure out why he had grown so very serious, but she figured in time he’d tell her. She smiled to herself and walked back outdoors. The world seemed suddenly right. God had graciously answered her prayer in a very short time.

  I am most grateful, Father. Most grateful that you have seen fit to answer my prayer and allow me to remain here to do your work. Those poor women need me, and I need you to show me how best to help them.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Ladies, I’m glad you could come today,” Mia announced Friday afternoon as she looked to the dozen or so seamen’s wives who had joined her at the church. Most were dressed in worn out skirts and blouses of coarse cotton. Some appeared to be Mia’s age, but with a look that bore evidence of a much harder life. Mia couldn’t help but wonder where they’d come from and where they would go after this.

  She was particularly glad to see that Nancy Lucas, Mrs. Williamson’s sister, had joined them. The woman had spoken freely with Mia about problems her friends were suffering and was perfectly happy to share whatever help and information she had to give.

  Clearing her throat, Mia continued. “We have some lovely materials and threads to give you as a way of saying thank-you for your time and trouble.”

  The women looked uncomfortable and Mia knew she had to put their minds at ease. She walked to the door and closed it. “You have nothing to fear here. Some of you have already spoken to me about the things going on in your neighborhood. The rest of you are here because your friends have asked you to come and share your plight. My desire is to help you. It is also the desire
of those in positions of power. The problem is, we must understand who the men are who are imposing themselves upon you, and what those impositions involve.”

  “Like I told you before,” Mrs. Smith began, “we can get in trouble if we say too much. I’ve got my own son, Davy, to worry about. Now that I’m a widow, there ain’t nobody else who’s gonna worry after us.”

  “No one is going to know who has said what,” Mia assured. She reached into a crate and pulled out precut sets of material and began handing the bundles out around the table. “You don’t even have to tell me your names. My honest desire is to learn the name of the man or men responsible for such improper deeds. You deserve protection, and I mean to offer it in whatever way I can.”

  “How will you put an end to it?” a dark-haired woman asked. Her voice sounded hopeful, but her expression was skeptical. “It’s been going on for the last year. How are you gonna stop it now?”

  “I believe by learning the man’s name and the complaints against him, I can encourage legal action to be taken on your behalf.”

  Mrs. Denning gave a snort. “Oh, I’m sure the police of Philadelphia are gonna care that Jasper Barrill is charging me double the rent my husband agreed to two months ago.”

  “Jasper Barrill? Who is that—your landlord?”

  The woman was taken aback for a moment. She looked to her friends and then back to Mia. “He is.”

  Mia considered this for a moment. “And is this Jasper Barrill the same man who threatens to steal children and takes liberties with some of you?”

  All of the women looked at the table, rather than each other or Mia. It was clear they were embarrassed and worried about her learning the truth. “Please hear me out,” Mia begged. “You aren’t to blame for the things that have happened to you. This man or the men involved have done wrong. They have no right to expect physical favors. They have no right to threaten your life or the lives of your children. You must fight back now or you will never be free.”

  “What do you really hope to gain in this?” another woman asked. “What do you care? I bet you live in a big house with no threat of this problem. Why worry about us?”

  “She’s right,” the dark-haired woman said. “Why should we trust you? We’ve seen the rich try to reform our neighborhoods. It sometimes helps for a little while and then they get tired of the problem and leave us in worse shape than when they started.”

  “The problem you face is one that women everywhere must recognize and challenge,” Mia said. “Women will always suffer and be taken advantage of in the absence of male protection, if we do not work to see the laws changed. Mrs. Hale at Godey’s Lady’s Book wants to see the laws rewritten in order to benefit your situation, but she cannot convince Congress there is a problem when no one will honestly speak of it. So decide for yourselves if this is something you wish to put an end to, but don’t make it a matter of the rich versus the poor. This is in the best interest of all women.”

  For several minutes nobody spoke. The seamen’s wives seemed to be considering Mia’s words, while Mia tried to figure out what to say next. She didn’t want to offend the women, but they needed to understand that if they allowed themselves to continue to be bullied and forced into these hideous situations, nothing would ever change.

  “Jasper Barrill came to me just last night,” a tiny redheaded woman began. “He . . . well . . . he did things to me.” She began to weep and the woman beside her pulled her into an embrace. “I told him to stop,” she sobbed against the older woman’s shoulder. “I fought him, but he was too strong.”

  “There, there, deary. ’Twasn’t your fault,” Nancy Lucas soothed.

  “No, he was wrong to do that,” Mia said softly. She couldn’t begin to imagine what the woman had gone through. She felt her chest tighten and tears well in her own eyes as the woman continued to cry.

  “He’s done it to me too,” a woman at the far end of the table finally admitted. “Jasper Barrill collects my rents, and he came to me about two weeks ago. Said my husband owed him for last month’s rent and for a gambling debt. I couldn’t dispute it—couldn’t pay it either. I gave him what money I had—it was all we had for food. He said it wasn’t enough. Then he started touching me.” She shook her head. “My kids were sleeping in the next room and I didn’t know what to do.”

  “He took my boy,” a heavyset woman began. “Told me it was the only way I could pay him back for what my husband owed. Little Malcolm ain’t but eight years old. But with four other little ones and no man to say otherwise, what could I do? I need a roof for the others. I doubt the police will care that I want my boy back, but you’re welcome to try as far as I’m concerned.”

  Mia had heard more than she could bear. “Who is this Mr. Barrill?” She was met with silence and blank stares. It was as if everyone had suddenly realized they’d said too much.

  “He collects the rents for several of the buildings down by the river,” Mrs. Smith finally answered.

  Mia nodded. “Can you tell me where he lives?”

  Mrs. Smith looked around the room, then said, “He has an office on Water Street not far from Elfreth’s Alley.” She gave the exact address, then sat back as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  “Thank you. I know it was difficult to come here today and share these matters. I want very much to see things made right. I promise you I will not stop until Mr. Barrill answers for what he’s done.” For the first time that night, Mia saw some hope in the expressions of the women. It was as if they were silently putting their faith in her, and Mia was determined not to let them down.

  Mia finished handing out the supplies she’d brought and thanked the women again. They quickly left the church with their gifts and hurried down the street toward their homes. Mia gathered her things together, thinking about the meeting and about the man who was causing so much trouble. She wasn’t sure what her next move should be. She could send Mrs. Hale a letter, and would, but that would take more time than Mia wanted to spend.

  “Was your meeting successful?” white-haired Pastor Brunswick asked as he met Mia in the hallway.

  “Yes, I believe it was. It seems these women are all being oppressed by one man in particular—a Jasper Barrill. Do you know of him?”

  The pastor considered the name for a moment. “No, I can’t say as I’m familiar with him or the name.”

  “Well, we need to figure out exactly who he is and what he has planned. He must be stopped—after all, his deeds are despicable. He’s taking liberties with these women physically, as well as stealing their children when he feels they should pay for their husbands’ debts. Some of the debts can’t even be proven to be real, but because the men are gone, there’s little to be done.”

  “It’s a sad situation. What will you do now, and what would you like me to do?”

  She thought for a moment. “I’m going to jot a note right now to Mrs. Hale at Godey’s Lady’s Book. If you’re willing, perhaps you could deliver it to her for me. I promised my family I wouldn’t work for her anymore, but this is something she needs to know about. She’s been a strong advocate for this cause, and my continued service in the matter is known only to you.”

  “I must say that I am uncomfortable with your participation.”

  “I honored my mother and father by resigning the position at Godey’s. They knew nothing of this cause I’m fighting. I needn’t be connected to Godey’s to recognize the injustice and desire to make a positive change. You preached that we were to love our neighbor and that our neighbor is every man or woman. I feel God wants me to help these women. I don’t feel it’s something I can walk away from now. I know too that by involving Mrs. Hale, we will have the backing of more powerful people. You’ll see, Pastor Brunswick—this will all work out.”

  “I will take the letter as you’ve asked, and I will continue to pray. Please promise me that you will not take unnecessary chances.”

  “Unnecessary chances? Me?” Mia questioned. “Of course no
t.” The chances I plan to take are all very necessary, she thought.

  She borrowed a piece of paper from the secretary and quickly wrote a letter to Mrs. Hale, then folded it and handed it to Pastor Brunswick.

  “Thank you so much for your help. I will see you Sunday at church,” Mia said as she headed for the door. Already her mind was running wild with what she might do next.

  “I am a respectable woman,” she said as she walked to her carriage. “I am a fairly well educated woman. I should be able to approach this Barrill man and at least reason with him to put aside his activities. If he fears the information and proof that we might already have against him, then maybe he will cease and give us time to prove our case to the police.” Mia knew from comments made by the women that the police never seemed to believe their stories. Mia was determined to get the proof needed and hoped that someone in authority would see the truth of their plight.

  Mr. Ferguson was sick today, so Jason was her driver. She smiled at the young man and motioned to him. He quickly helped her into the small carriage, but Mia wasn’t ready to dismiss him.

  “Jason, I need a favor.”

  “But of course, Miss Stanley. What is it?”

  “I want you to take me down Water Street.” She told him the address and watched his eyes widen. “I know it’s not the typical area where I should go. However, there is a man there whom I need to speak with. It’s broad daylight and I have you for my protection, so there should be little to fear.”

  “If Mr. Ferguson finds out . . . well, I could be put off the job.”

  “I’d never let that happen. Your position is secure. Fear not.”

  He was clearly reluctant, but at last agreed and climbed up onto the driver’s seat. “Very well.”

  Mia felt a sense of panic and exhilaration all at once. It had to be the hand of God that had allowed for Jason to drive her today. It had to also be God who had seen fit to give the women strength to speak about their circumstances. So it would also be God who would protect Mia and give her the strength to stand up to this Mr. Barrill. Still, a little prayer can’t hurt, she thought and quickly whispered one.

 

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