Guilty about not doing anything, Liz put on a pair of rubber gloves and started washing walls. “I know that church. My husband and I rented in Brewster every summer. I was a teacher and spent summers up here, with my son. Gerry commuted back and forth to his law practice in Boston.”
“Now don’t ya be tellin’ me yer retired too! Mary, Mother of God yer too damn young fer that.”
Liz dropped her sponge into the bucket. “It’s a long story. I can’t talk about it right now.”
Mae stripped off her gloves and hugged her. “Now Miss Lizzy, ya listen to Mae. Life ain’t fair and ‘tain’t easy. But the Good Lord doesn’t give ya anything ya can’t handle. He answers all prayers, in His own time, but sometimes ya don’t like the answer. Run along now, I’m the hired cleaner. If yer goin’ to be stayin’ here tonight, ya best be gettin’ some groceries and linens now.”
Mae smiled and got back to scrubbing. “Let me get busy. We’ll chat another time.”
Liz washed her hands, picked up her purse, and got into her car. Before she turned the key in the ignition, she heard Mae calling to the girls.
“Put a move on it, lassies. The missus is stayin’ here tonight. That master suite needs to be spotless! Four of ya to that room and the bathroom. And the rest of ya, come down here. I need help in this kitchen, right now!”
Chapter 15
June 1875
Brewster, Massachusetts
Edward sank deeper into the warm water and ducked his head beneath the soapy foam. He gave up many things while at sea: decent food, the ability to sleep without worrying that the mates and crew would miss something that would send them all to the bottom of the sea, and the comforts of a real home. But the last twenty-four hours made up for the previous deprivation.
Finally, Elisabeth was here; warm, soft, smelling like lavender. The house he had built for her was the showplace of the town. And now he was taking a second bath, in as many days, just for the pleasure. Normally, he washed with a dirty towel, in a basin of water that, even though boiled, still had a pervasive mouldy stench. And he slept in his clothes, rinsed but never really clean, on gritty sheets fit only for rags at the journey’s end.
Elisabeth touched all his senses. Every night, she lay naked next to him as they re-discovered each other after far too long. The crisp, lightly scented linens she’d brought soothed his bare skin. The pillow wrapped around and cradled his head like a fragrant cloud. The passion beneath the prim and proper demeanor had been unleashed, and the virgin child was growing into a woman, capable of giving and receiving pleasure.
He’d obsessed about the circumstances under which they’d last parted. He’d regretted taking the coward’s way out, never standing up to Lord Baxter to claim what was rightfully his, and worse, leaving his brother to do his dirty work. He’d contemplated going back to London to retrieve her despite the threats. But her letters came regularly, assuring him all was well, that he should stay away and let her make preparations.
He hadn’t been surprised to see the fiercely independent lady standing on deck, as she’d promised. Someday they would visit London. He would stand in front of the earl and show him that Edward Barrett had made it, had kept his word. And he would find a way to pay his brother back for seeing his wife to safe passage at great personal risk.
The water cooled, and Edward dragged himself out and dried off. Today, he and his wife would walk down the center aisle at church, the first public acknowledgment of their union. Today, their lives as a couple in polite society would begin. He stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and gazed at Elisabeth nestled in the coverlet on the bed like a naked angel in a linen cloud.
Her delightfully messy hair peeked at him from under the edge of the bedspread. “Edward, you best put on some clothes. Katherine will soon bring up breakfast.” Her voice was still husky with the vestiges of passion. Her gaze scanned his arms and chest as he toweled off.
Cold droplets fell from damp curls and tracked down his neck. Edward shivered under the inviting intensity of Elisabeth’s gaze. He adjusted the towel to cover an aching erection. Alas, there was no time. Such un-pious thoughts before church. “Services are at ten, and I can’t wait for everyone to meet you.” Edward tucked himself into trousers and a shirt, then draped a matching jacket over the chaise.
Elisabeth slid her bare legs over the edge of the bed, wrapping the linens around her. The cover concealed little and only served to intensify his longing.
She cleared her throat. “Edward, there is something I need to ask. Something that has been troubling me since I left England. My father said that he’d investigated. That you’d been involved in smuggling, piracy and . . .”
“Murder.” The ugly word tasted like bitter poison on his tongue. He sat down on the bed, suddenly deflated by unpleasant reminders.
She looked down but did not seem shocked. He’d assumed her moodiness was due to the stress of travel and arrival. But now that Elisabeth had finally summoned the courage to confront him, she deserved to know the truth.
Edward took her face in his hands, directing her gaze at him. “There isn’t a sailor alive who hasn’t had to fight hand-to-hand to defend himself, his ship, and his captain. Laws, rules, they all become blurred on the open seas, as during war. Men die or suffer terrible wounds at nature’s hand as often. When we arrive in foreign ports, people whose ways are different can turn on us at a moment’s notice.”
“Tell me you didn’t kill anyone.” Her voice wavered and she moved her head out of his grasp.
“Only in the thick of a fight. It was kill or be killed.” He hoped the truth came through his words.
“And what of smuggling humans as slaves?” Anger flashed in her eyes.
He took a deep breath. “When people live in poverty, they’re desperate to escape. Going to England, or to the States, is seen as an opportunity. Most don’t understand the hardships of a journey in steerage, or that they’ll find themselves beholden to someone, somewhere when they arrive.” Edward couldn’t bear to confide in her about the real conditions, and the horrors below those decks. Even the mention turned his stomach.
She bit her lip and held back tears.
“Elisabeth, I long wanted to break away from it all. Captain Percy was good to me, took me under his wing, and taught me everything I know. If it weren’t for his tutelage, Neville Somersell would never have engaged me. And if it weren’t for you, I’d never have had the courage to leave that life behind. It’s over. Done. Somersell is a taskmaster, and a ruthless businessman, but he is honest. And the lad you met, Billy, my cabin boy, I’m teaching him to be honourable so that when he becomes a captain, he will remain so.”
She cocked her head, her jaw set, her expression quizzical, skeptical. “How do I know for sure, Edward? You preferred to leave me for two years rather than take me aboard your ship.”
“And I stand by that decision, Elisabeth. You weren’t aboard five minutes before a fight broke out. Only Kyle keeping watch and me threatening to boot them overboard kept the lot under control. You saw how crowded it is. Men get restless, hungry for real food, and for women.”
“Yes, for women. Two years. How many besides me?” Her words were as bitter as a lemon and she turned her back to him.
Edward placed his hand on her shoulders, brought her about, and drew her close enough that their faces were inches apart. “None. I spent my nights alone, dreaming of you. And my days thinking of you, working for you, collecting things for you. I’d see something, a piece of furniture, fabrics, rugs, and think how happy it would make my wife.”
He kissed her forehead. “The railroad is usurping much of the shipping business. The packet boats are just about done. Steamships now handle most of the longer voyages. I don’t think I’ve got more than a year, maybe two, before it’s over. I need to pay off the debt on this prope
rty. Once that’s done, I’ll look to do something else.”
Her voice mellowed. “So all that hard work to keep me in a castle here without you? That doesn’t make sense.”
Thoughts of the deep sea of debt to Somersell pricked at his gut and grated on his nerves like the squeal of anchor chains against a rusty pulley, reminding him why he must leave her again. “I have to prove to your parents that I’m worthy to be your husband. I regret terribly the row this has caused between you and them.”
Sadness tinged her words. “Edward, my parents will never understand, and never accept this. I love you, and material things aren’t important.”
“Understood, as I hope you understand everything I’ve told you. I must continue this for a bit longer. I hate leaving, but no matter where I go my days will be spent thinking of you and finding beautiful things to make you happy. I can get fabrics, carpets. Just tell me what you want. We need to have some drapes on these windows, don’t we now?” Edward stretched across the bed and eased her down on top of him.
“You’ll have to close the shutters, my darling. And I suppose I need to get dressed.” Elisabeth didn’t move.
There was a faint knock at the door. Edward jumped up, and Elisabeth drew the coverlet over her again.
“Pardon me, my lady.” Katherine’s voice barely projected through the heavy door. “I’ve breakfast for you.”
Edward went over and opened it. “Good morning, Katherine. Please, come in.”
Elisabeth chose a bright yellow but simple dress with short sleeves. She tamed her hair into an elegant pouf and pinned a small hat with a feather on top. As she primped, a hairpin dug into her scalp. The sting turned her thoughts to other unpleasantries: Edward’s confessions that had confirmed her worst fears. He could be prosecuted if he ever set foot in England again. Her husband was a fugitive, and she an escapee. But he wasn’t a liar, and she wasn’t a coward. Was it any worse than the crimes of gluttony and sloth committed by the peerage? People lay dying in the slums while they feasted, turned their heads, and did nothing. Like the British expatriates who’d forged the United States and fought for their liberty, she and her husband would live their lives here, start over, and make amends. Satisfied with her image in the mirror, the resolve in her heart, and the peace in her mind she went down.
“Elisabeth, you look lovely.” Edward waited at the foot of the stairs, his smile projected approval, admiration. He took her hand as she reached the last step. “Paul and I have the pleasure of accompanying three ladies to services. It will be much more enjoyable than attending alone. The sermons are dull.”
Katherine and Sara, in their black maid’s dresses and white caps, waited on the porch. The throwback to a formal manner of life cast a momentary dark cloud over Elisabeth’s resolve. This, too, would have to change.
The bay horses drew the carriage out of the barn and Paul jumped down. He placed a small stool on the ground and helped Sara and Katherine in. She noted tiny smiles as Paul and Katherine’s eyes met, and then the bright flush on the younger sister’s cheeks. It would be wonderful for the two women to find happiness here after the trials they’d endured in service to her father. Edward helped Elisabeth up and sat next to her. Paul clucked and flapped the reins, and they trotted down Stony Brook Road.
Paul touched a hand to his cap every time someone passed by, and the welcoming sentiment was always returned. The hood was down so the sun bathed them with warmth. Everyone was smiling, taking in the sights and watching the churchgoing bustle of their hometown. All seemed right with the world. A small white building on the left stood atop a hill. Paul stopped the carriage in a grassy area. He tethered the horses, offered Sara and Katherine his arms, and escorted them up the stairs.
Murmurs and glances met them as Edward and Elisabeth led the group down the aisle to a pew with his name marked on it. The five of them just fit on the hard, high-backed bench. Used to grand entrances, the attention didn’t disturb Elisabeth in the least. Edward appeared to be basking in glory, back straight, smile broad. His eyes closed as he recited prayers of thanks and for forgiveness and sang hymns. The Lord surely would grant his wishes, if they were sincere. She could do no less, but had a hard time keeping her attention on the services.
Elisabeth marveled at the variety of people, some dressed in homespun and sackcloth, others in wool and silk. More women than men and empty spaces in many of the pews gave testimony to the seafaring nature of Brewster’s inhabitants. Yes, things were different here. Simple.
“And now, I’d like to acknowledge the long-awaited arrival of Mrs. Edward Barrett from London.”
The preacher’s mention jogged Elisabeth from her thoughts. She rose and looked at the people around her. “Thank you, I’m happy to be here and hope to make the acquaintance of all members of this congregation.”
Edward kissed her on the cheek as she took her seat, the public show of affection different but not unwelcome. The preacher resumed his sermon. Elisabeth heard only leaves rustling in the salty breeze and the call of the gulls coming through open windows. After the final stanza of the last hymn, services concluded. Better-dressed parishioners approached to shake her hand. The others retreated through the side doors. She struggled to remember the names of everyone that crowded around her to offer welcome.
“Might I take a photograph, Captain? For the news.” A youngish man, well dressed, waited for Edward’s smile and nod, then gestured to the camera tripod he’d set up.
“Shall we, Elisabeth?”
“Of course.” She let her husband lead her to the alcove where they posed for several minutes while the photographer composed the scene.
“Thank you, Captain, Mrs. Barrett.” The chap tapped his cap.
Edward acknowledged him with a nod, then led her out into the sunshine. They found Paul entertaining Katherine and Sara with a story about the time a horse had broken free and trotted on back home, leaving his owners stranded. The sisters laughed heartily.
“I’d like to see the stable.” Elisabeth settled herself into the carriage.
“Of course, Mrs. Barrett. These geldings are Bump and Jump.” Paul looked over his shoulder from the driver’s seat. “There are also two mares. All are broken for saddle and harness, but the girls are much less temperamental.”
“My wife is quite a horsewoman. She has ridden on hunts and jumps fences sidesaddle.” Edward took her hand and kissed it.
“Then you best ride the mares, ma’am. They’re lighter on their feet, and quicker. Pick the one you favor most.” Paul got the team going with an authoritative slap of the reins.
“I’ve those scandalous new riding breeches and I’m anxious to try them out,” Elisabeth said.
Edward smiled at her, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable before lunch. Perhaps you will also.”
“We’re having a guest, are we not?”
“Yes, I’ve invited Mr. Jared Sanders to come by. Do whatever you prefer. I’m sure he will not be concerned about your attire.”
“I’d like to make a good impression.” Riding breeches on Sunday were not appropriate.
They arrived home, alighted in turn, and all dispersed to their tasks at hand. Elisabeth found some carrots from the kitchen and went to the stable. Paul curried one of the geldings while the other waited his turn. She saw the two mares in the paddock eating their fill of green spring grass. She clucked and a red chestnut came over and accepted the treat. The other, a bay, continued grazing.
The chestnut’s soft lips slathered her palm, and a pang washed over Elisabeth as she thought of Copper. Saying goodbye to her beloved horse, the one being that offered her true affection or pleasure, had been more wrenching than leaving her parents.
Paul called to her, “That’s Ruddy. The other is Smooch. She loves to kiss.”
“Well
, Ruddy, you’ll be mine then. And we’ll leave Smooch to the gentlemen.”
Ruddy nuzzled and accepted another carrot. Had God provided a sign that she’d done the right thing and soothed her angst with a horse’s show of approval? Elisabeth chose to believe it so. She patted her and walked across a large grassy patch, empty of any shrubbery, trees, or flowers. The house was luxuriously appointed, but the grounds were no more than a bare yard, which paled in comparison to the beautiful English garden that surrounded her home in Surrey. This bright, sunny area would be a fine place for a vegetable patch. Roses and other flowers would soften the stark sandy tracts of soil around the foundation.
Sara was setting a table on the backside of the porch. “The Captain wants to have lunch out here, Elisabeth.”
The goodwill bestowed upon her by the townspeople, the lovely weather, and the first taste of a new life conjured a strange emotion: contentment. “Set three more places. Paul, Katherine, and you should join us. Uniforms and formalities are not necessary here.” They’d been on a first name basis since the trials of rough seas, when she’d become their maid. It was time to break down the remaining barriers.
“As you wish.” Sara, still seemingly unsettled, disappeared into the house and returned with the place settings.
Elisabeth washed her hands in the kitchen, moved chairs outside, and helped set the table. Edward came around the corner with a tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in simple work clothes. His eyes were the brightest blue she’d seen in a long time. Elisabeth recognized the gentleman who had sat alone in a side pew at services.
“Mrs. Barrett, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jared Sanders.” He had a typical Yankee twang, with a queer accent substituting “ah” for “a”.
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