“I am!”
Prudence’s pulse quickened at the possibility, but then she gave a sad shake of the head. “By now it’s too late. He meant to sail as soon as the execution was done. I won’t chase him to London. That is too much.” She sighed. “I couldn’t do it. Imagine the humiliation when I arrived and he turned me away.”
“He wants you, Prudence. How could he not?”
“You say that because you’re my sister. You have hopes for me, you want to see me healed. You want me to start a new family, to have more children.”
“Is it a sin to wish happiness for my sister?”
“It won’t happen,” Prudence said. “Not with James. You don’t know him. We spoke about many things on our journeys. He’s a good man at heart, but he is young, and hot blood runs through his veins.”
“James turned away Lucy when he could have had her.” Anne picked up the paring knife and returned to cutting turnips. “That is an honorable man.”
How could she explain without making him seem like a scoundrel? If Anne knew how she had given herself to him, she would be disappointed in Prudence and outraged at the liberties James had taken.
“Would he have turned Lucy away under other circumstances? When he was in Paris, and the licentious French girls threw themselves at him, did he turn them away?” Prudence lifted a hand to stop Anne’s sputtered protest. “I’m not questioning his character. I know he is a good man. But he isn’t interested in a wife, and I have no intention of following him to be his mistress.”
“Heavens, no!”
“Then we’re agreed,” Prudence said firmly. “It was a fool’s hope all along.”
They returned to silence for several minutes while they got the chicken and vegetables into the Dutch oven and carried it between them to the hearth. Then they returned to clean up the mess left by their preparations.
“Time is running short,” Anne said. “You need to settle this before the Vigilant sails.”
“What makes you think she hasn’t already?”
“Because I asked about the tides. They sail at high tide, when they can get over the sandbars.”
Prudence stopped and took her sister by the shoulders. “Why are you so determined? You thought very little of him when he arrived.”
“Because I see what he’s done to you. You left frightened and wracked by evil memories. Since you returned, you’ve changed. You no longer wake at night crying out in terror.”
“Because of Mary.”
“And Master Bailey,” Anne insisted. “He healed you, gave you confidence. I was so proud—you’ll never know how much—when you pried out the truth from Lucy, and then when you denounced Knapp. And in front of all of those men. Even the governor. I am honored to call you my sister.”
“But, Anne—” Prudence began.
“Then when James pardoned Goodman Edwins, I saw what kind of man he was. Strong, but merciful. With principles, but not so rigid that he becomes a tyrant. That is the sort of man my sister should marry. He could be a father for your daughter, and a fine one too.”
Prudence turned away. Her heart was bursting. She didn’t want Anne to see her lip quivering, or the tears springing to her eyes.
“Prudie?”
“What?”
Anne turned her around and lifted her chin. “Tell me truthfully, do you have feelings for him?”
“I love him, Anne. With all of my heart.”
Anne embraced her and whispered in Prudence’s ear, “It takes great courage to earn a great reward.”
She was right. Of course she was. And if Prudence marched down to the wharves, only to be laughed at by the dockers and sailors, even if James were to rebuff her in front of them all, what shame was there in that? There were few in New England who didn’t already know her name. Those who didn’t yet, soon would. If she couldn’t handle the scorn, she could always leave.
Still, she was not so brave as to go alone. “And you will come with me?”
“Of course.” Anne cast a glance toward the stairs. “Quickly, before Henry asks me to explain myself.”
The two women took off their aprons on their way to the front door and exchanged them for their cloaks, which hung on pegs. But before they could put them on, the door swung open. James stood in front of the house, cheeks red from the cold, breath billowing. Prudence stood gaping.
“Master James,” Anne said smoothly. She put her cloak on the hook as if she had only just arrived herself, then took Prudence’s and did the same. “What cheer! Pray come in.”
He kicked the snow from his boots and stepped inside.
“Will you be joining us for supper, then?” Anne asked.
“The Vigilant sails in thirty minutes. I’m afraid I don’t have time.”
“I see. Well, that is a disappointment. Come in, anyway.” She nudged Prudence.
Prudence caught her breath at last. Her heart was pounding, but she managed to smooth what must have been a dumbfounded expression, slack-jawed and foolish. She took James’s cloak and hung it on the hook.
Anne hurried to feed more wood into the fire, then scooted children away and sent them upstairs. Prudence caught whispered threats from her sister should they dare to return. Old John Porter came in from the back with an armful of kindling, and Anne took this and seated him firmly on the far end of the table, out of the way. Old John took one look at James and sighed, as if knowing that interesting happenings were afoot once more and he would not be able to follow a word of it.
“Pray have a seat,” Prudence told James, pointing to the bench in front of the fire.
When he obeyed, Prudence took a chance and sat next to him, instead of on the opposite side with her sister. Anne looked pleased.
James cleared his throat. “You weren’t at the hanging.”
“I had seen enough death.”
“Yes, of course—I didn’t mean that. Only I wanted to speak with you before I leave.”
“Yes?” She tried not to sound too eager.
“To give thanks. You saved my life. And you did your duty to your king and country.”
“I am the one who should be grateful. I wouldn’t have my daughter if you hadn’t—”
Anne interrupted with an exaggerated sigh, and they both looked at her. “Thirty minutes until the Vigilant sets sail. That means Master Bailey has fifteen minutes until he must leave. Is this how you want to spend your conversation?”
“Anne!” Prudence said.
“At least one of you has something to say. I hope both of you.”
“Then why are you interrupting?” Prudence asked. “Couldn’t you go upstairs for a moment?”
“I’m your sister. That wouldn’t be proper.”
“Heavens, what a gossip. You’re as bad as Goody Brockett.”
James laughed, and Anne gave a look of false shock at the accusation. Nevertheless, the awkwardness of the situation was broken, and Prudence no longer felt like she wanted to dissolve through a crack in the floorboards and disappear.
“Tell me why you came,” she said.
“The truth is I—” He smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yes?”
“Two hours ago I was speaking in front of a thousand people, and now I can’t seem to summon the words.”
Prudence took his hand. “I hope we desire the same thing. But if not, I would rather we part having spoken everything in our hearts. So if you have returned so you could apologize for your behavior, let me assure you there is no need. I understand you have duties to your king.”
“No, Prudie. That isn’t why I’ve come. But I don’t know how to ask you. I cannot stay in New England.”
“No, you cannot. I knew that all along. How could you become the king’s chancellor if you stayed in Boston?”
“But you swore you would never leave New England, and I would never ask you to go with me to London. It’s a cesspool of sin and vice. The air itself is so filled with miasma that a child like Mary should never breathe i
t.”
She wanted to protest that she would go with him if only he would ask. Many people raised their children in London, didn’t they? Couldn’t they find a healthy spot away from the river and its sewage, a place where the breezes blew away the soot and the disease? And weren’t there churches, ministers, Godly people to be found?
But maybe that wasn’t what he was saying. Maybe this was his excuse. She glanced at Anne, who wore a worried expression.
“I spoke with Joseph McMurdle,” James said. “Gave him the privilege to deliver my report to London, offer up Fitz-Simmons for the king’s justice. I have no stomach to see the man tortured and killed. McMurdle was to travel to Quebec, but he is eager to take this opportunity.”
She was confused. “Then what, you will travel to Quebec in his place?”
“No, I’m on my way to New York. It is a troublesome little colony, pacified, but the Dutch returned once, and might again. Not as important as combating the French, but I cannot trust it to one man. Vandermeer has his uses, but we need more.”
“But if McMurdle claims your victory in London, and you remain in the colonies, won’t that mean—?”
“Aye. I will surrender my chance at the position of king’s chancellor.”
“Isn’t that your heart’s desire?” she asked.
“Nay, that is not my heart’s desire. Not any longer.”
She swallowed hard and nodded.
“New York isn’t the Bay Colony,” he continued, “but McMurdle says there’s energy in Manhattan, and a growing colony of English, many of them original settlers of Plymouth, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. You might be comfortable there.”
And it would be relatively close to Rhode Island, too, if her sister settled there. And she had two brothers living along the Connecticut coast, as well, plus another sister living across the sound on Long Island.
Prudence’s heart pounded. Her stomach turned over.
Anne rose to her feet. “This is the part of the conversation where I can slip away. Besides, I should have my own conversation with Henry. I must prepare him for this happy news.”
There was a commotion when Anne reached the stairs, as apparently children had crept down to listen. Mild scolding chased them back upstairs.
When Anne and her children were gone, James turned back to Prudence. “I told McMurdle I would send him to England in my stead, but only if you would come with me to New York.”
Her heart was pounding and her mouth dry. “Please, be clear. Under what terms, as your mistress? You know I couldn’t do that.”
James took her hand. “As my wife. If you would have me.”
“I—I would do that. Yes.”
He apparently took her stuttering as hesitation, because he pressed on. “And as my partner. My lover. You are a beautiful and clever woman, strong-willed and stubborn, but tender enough to be a good wife and mother at the same time. I will be your husband and the father of your child if you let me—our child. That is, our children. Please be my wife, Prudie, I love you.”
She threw her arms around his neck and then they were kissing, locked for a long moment in each other’s embrace. When she opened her eyes, there was Anne, standing on the stairs, peering around the corner, a broad grin on her face.
“Well then,” Prudence said, pulling away and rising to her feet. She took James’s hand and urged him to stand. “We had better hurry down to the docks if we are to wave good-bye to the Vigilant before she sails.”
They went for their cloaks. As they passed the stairs, James smiled at Anne, now with several gawking children pressed around her as well. No sign yet of the reverend. Of course Prudence would prefer that he be happy to hear the news, but she found herself not particularly concerned if he wasn’t.
“Goody Stone,” James said. “On second thought, I will stay for supper. If the offer stands, that is, and if it will hold until we return from the harbor.”
“Aye, Master Bailey. We would be happy to have you.” Anne reached out and gave Prudence a little pinch above her hip as she passed.
Prudence slapped away Anne’s hand and gave her a raised eyebrow, then playfully stuck out her tongue at the sniggering children when James wasn’t looking.
Then she followed James outside and into the cold winter air.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2011 David Garten
Michael Wallace was born in California and raised in a small religious community in Utah, eventually heading east to live in Rhode Island and Vermont. In addition to working as a literary agent and innkeeper, he previously worked as a software engineer for a Department of Defense contractor, programming simulators for nuclear submarines. He is the author of more than twenty novels, including the Wall Street Journal bestselling series The Righteous, set in a polygamist enclave in the desert.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Crow Hollow Page 30
