by Jody Hedlund
Suddenly Newton knew God would embrace him and forgive him just the same way the father in the prodigal son story had embraced his son.
Tears wet Newton’s hands, and he bent to the ground again, broken, humbled, and overwhelmed that God could love him.
He felt almost as if he were seeing life for the very first time, as if he’d been blind and now could see the truth. He’d been lost but now was found.
May 1748
Polly pressed her face in the bluebell bouquet Billy had picked for her and breathed in the heady scent. He strolled next to her, their steps unhurried in the warm afternoon sunshine.
Behind them, Billy’s younger sister and Eliza followed at a discreet distance as chaperones. Polly didn’t mind the constant companionship of the others, especially in light of Billy’s growing ardor and attention over the past weeks. Somehow the presence of one or more of their siblings kept the time together safe, kept the boundaries firmly intact, and kept Polly from having to make a decision about Billy.
But her time was running short. Although Billy was always patient with her, she knew that he was ready to marry her.
As they reached the back gate of the house, Billy stopped and touched her arm. His expression pleaded with her to allow him a moment to speak with her alone.
Eliza stopped and quirked a brow.
“Go ahead, girls,” Polly said even though her stomach quavered at the prospect of being alone with Billy. She was fairly certain what he wanted to say—or ask.
She’d been stalling him and avoiding this moment. And she couldn’t do it any longer. She had no reason to say no to Billy Baldock—except the word of caution from her father when she’d come home last autumn. Every once in a while, remembrance of his concern returned to admonish her. But of late, especially after Felicity’s wedding, she’d been able to shut it out.
Felicity had married a young man like Billy who was gaining possessions and moving up in his social standing. Such a life was everything a girl like her, of the middling class, could aspire to: status and wealth, comfort, the approval of her friends. Billy could offer her all that and possibly more. What need did she have of a higher purpose, a greater calling to do more, especially with the hymns and her music? Perhaps that was simply the wish of a young girl and nothing more. She could certainly find contentment in her charity work with Mother at the almshouse, couldn’t she?
Besides, she’d come to the conclusion that perhaps it didn’t matter so much that Billy was helping his uncle from time to time. Billy claimed that it wasn’t often and assured her that it was all just part of his job. Riding officers couldn’t possibly stop every smuggler. No one expected that of him.
Billy cleared his throat and glanced down at his feet. The tall grass brushed his legs, and a small wood white butterfly flitted near her skirt. The sunshine was warm on her back and her large hat, reminding her that summer would soon be upon them. And summer was the deadline she’d given Billy for making the decision. She couldn’t put him off any longer.
“Polly…” Billy said, folding his hands together. Then he unclasped them and lowered himself to one knee in front of her.
Her heart began to patter faster at the implication.
“Polly.” He reached for her free hand and took it between his clammy ones. The nerves in his jaw twitched. “You would make me the happiest man in the world if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
She smiled at him, hoping to ease his discomfort.
He released a small breath and smiled in return. “I love you,” he continued with more confidence. “And I’ve dreamed about marrying you for as long as I can remember.”
As much as she wanted to say the words, to reassure him of her own love in return, she couldn’t bring herself to make such a declaration. Not yet. Yes, she cared about him. But was it love?
Her heart betrayed her with the memory of the last time she’d seen John Newton nearly three and a half years ago, of the kiss he’d given her, of the power of her longing and passion in that moment and others with him. She’d never experienced anything close to that with Billy.
But love wasn’t just a feeling. It was a decision. And all she had to do was decide to love Billy. Didn’t she? That certainly wouldn’t be hard to do since he was such a good man.
Billy lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Although her hands were gloved, the heat of his lips and breath seeped through the silk and made her flush. It was the first time Billy had made any overt physical contact with her, and she wasn’t quite sure how to react.
His eyes suddenly blazed with longing, a desire that was only natural and normal for a young man his age. He was ready to be married, to settle down, to start a family. He had the means. He’d worked all year, and as he’d promised, he’d saved enough to buy her a home. In fact, he already had his eye on a lovely cottage close to the River Medway. He’d taken her past it only a week ago and asked for her opinion on it.
She must not keep him waiting any longer. She wasn’t being fair to him. “I think you know my answer, Billy,” she said quietly.
His smile widened and moved up into his eyes.
“But I should like to have my father’s approval first.”
The brightness of his expression wavered. But he rose and gallantly offered her the crook of his arm. “Then let’s go ask your father together,” he said. “Perhaps we can set the wedding date today, and I shall have the banns posted on the morrow?”
She took his arm and allowed him to lead the way through the back door. They followed voices to the front drawing room. Billy squeezed her arm as they stepped into the room.
The voices tapered to silence. At first Polly was confused as she took in her mother and father seated on a settee across from Captain Newton. Her heart gave a rapid painful pang against her chest at the sight of his broad shoulders and muscular build, so similar to John’s.
Captain Newton rose to his feet, as did her father.
“Polly, come in, my darling,” said her mother with a smile, which only served to confuse Polly further. Her mother had always spoken somewhat negatively of Captain Newton, her cousin’s husband. Polly had sometimes gotten the impression that her mother disapproved of the captain for not being there when his wife had died. But now she had apparently been chatting with him as though they were long-lost friends.
“This is Captain Newton,” Father said nodding at the man amiably, which surprised Polly too, considering how much he’d disapproved of John. “We were just speaking of you.”
At the mention of Captain Newton, Billy’s arm stiffened beneath her fingers.
Polly took a deep breath. Whatever the news, she was long done with entertaining thoughts about John Newton. “Captain Newton and I had the pleasure of meeting in London at Susanna’s some time ago.”
“I’m pleased to see you again, Miss Catlett,” Captain Newton said, and she was surprised to realize that his eyes truly were brimming with pleasure. The sad ghosts that had haunted him when she’d visited with him in London seemed to have vanished.
Polly curtsied. “What brings you to Chatham, Captain Newton?”
The captain looked first at the bouquet of bluebells she still held and then at her hand tucked firmly into Billy’s arm. “I was hoping that I might speak with you and your parents privately about the nature of my visit.”
Billy’s body turned into an iron pike. “Polly and I were hoping to speak to you alone, Mr. Catlett.”
Her father also glanced at the bouquet and then briefly searched Polly’s face. His knowing expression told her he’d guessed exactly what Billy hoped to speak with him about. “Since we have this rare occasion of visiting with Captain Newton, I’d be grateful if we could put off the matter for another day.”
Billy looked as though he wanted to say more, but after a moment he nodded briefly and then released Polly. “Then may I have the pleasure of calling on you tomorrow evening?” His words were directed at her, but he tossed Captain
Newton a challenging glance.
The captain assessed him coolly in response.
Polly was relieved when Billy left. She sat in a chair near her parents and willed her heart to stop its frantic racing. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t care what had become of John. But she couldn’t fool herself. She was suddenly desperate to know that he was alive and safe. Even if he could never be hers, at least she would know he was well.
“Miss Catlett, you look even lovelier than the last time I saw you,” Captain Newton said with a gentleness that contradicted a man of his size and power.
“Thank you, sir.” She wanted to squirm under the three sets of eyes that were trained upon her but remained poised as she’d been taught at school.
“I got a letter from John yesterday.”
Her gaze snapped up to his. “And…?” She hated that her voice was breathless.
“And…he’s alive and safe in Ireland.”
Something wild and fierce gripped her chest, and she couldn’t prevent the tears from springing to her eyes. He was alive. Thank the Lord. He was alive and safe. She tried to speak, to ask more, but her lips only trembled, and she had to cover them with her hands and blink back rapid tears.
“I thought he was dead,” the captain whispered hoarsely, his eyes brimming with tears too. “I’d heard that the Greyhound rescued him. But for the past eighteen months I haven’t had one word. No one knew what had become of the Greyhound. We assumed that it had sunk and all its crew with it.”
Captain Newton paused and pulled out several sheets of paper. He opened them to reveal John’s handwriting. The captain cleared his throat before continuing. “From what John wrote, and from what I’ve since heard about the Greyhound, they’re mighty lucky to have made it as far as they did.”
For several long minutes he relayed John’s rendition of the storm, the starvation conditions, and finally how the ship had made it to Ireland with one miracle after another, too many to simply be a coincidence. Polly’s body was taut on the edge of her seat by the time the captain finished.
“The Lord intervened so far to save me,” Captain Newton read the letter now. “I cried out to him who alone could relieve me. I was sorry for my misspent life and committed myself to an immediate reformation. The powerful hand of God had at last found me out.”
A thrill of wonder swept through Polly, and she reveled in the sweet words, utterly amazed that they’d been penned by John, who’d had such a hard heart toward God for as long as she’d known him. She was grateful that he’d finally made peace with God.
While awaiting repairs on the Greyhound, he was staying in Londonderry. He said he was going to church twice a day for morning and evening prayers, was taking Communion, had stopped cursing, and was studying religious books. “I rose very early and with greatest solemnity engaged myself to be the Lord’s forever.” The captain read for a moment longer, and Polly wondered if perhaps John had finally made peace with his father too. Perhaps that was why Captain Newton had a new light in his eyes.
“We’re truly pleased for you, Captain,” Mother said.
Father nodded his agreement. “It’s just too bad you won’t get to see him before you leave.”
Captain Newton smiled faintly then. “Aye, I wish that I might. But at least I have his letter to take with me to reassure me that this wayward son of mine is now walking the right path.”
“Take with you?” Polly asked.
“I’ve been offered a position as governor in Hudson Bay at York Fort, a northern outpost. I’d hoped I might be able to see John before I leave, but the damage on the Greyhound was so extensive that the repairs have delayed his departure. He won’t be able to make it back by the time I leave in two days.”
John was coming back? The realization overcame Polly with such force she couldn’t think. When? How? What would she do? She sat back in her chair flustered.
As though sensing her discomfort, Captain Newton looked at her with sudden expectation. “He still loves you.”
Her pulse sped so that she could feel the blood racing through her veins.
“He doesn’t know that I’m here in Chatham. He didn’t ask that I come. But I knew it was the last gift I could give him before I leave England.”
“Gift, sir?” she managed.
“The gift of reconciliation.” With that he looked at her father and mother. “I’m sorry for any hurt I may have caused you at Elizabeth’s death.” Mother started to speak, but Captain Newton continued, his voice cracking. “I loved her more than anything. And not a day goes by that I don’t regret not being here for her. If only I’d been a better husband, she might have lived.”
“No, that’s not true,” Mother said quietly, her voice just as anguished. “There’s nothing you could have done, nothing any of us could do.”
“I don’t want John to go through what I did,” Captain Newton said, sitting up straighter and visibly attempting to bring his emotions under control. “I don’t want him to miss out on life with the woman he loves.”
They were all silent for a moment, save the twittering of a nest of birds outside the window that drowned out all Polly’s thoughts except one—John still loved her. John still loved her. John still loved her.
“At our last visit, you made clear to me that you couldn’t offer John a hope of the future,” Captain Newton said, meeting her gaze head on. “I know I have no right to ask you to reconsider your position on the matter. But I wanted you to know that John’s a changed man.” He shifted to look directly into her father’s serious eyes. “And I wanted to gain your permission for John to marry Polly, if Polly should be in agreement.”
Polly almost gasped out loud at the bold request. Surely Captain Newton couldn’t expect that after all this time she’d save herself for John. And surely Captain Newton couldn’t expect her father to put aside his reservations so easily after one letter from John declaring himself to be a changed man.
Her father hesitated, as if thinking the same thing.
“I sent a letter to my friend Joseph Manesty in Liverpool requesting a job for John on one of his vessels. And I had word from Manesty before I rode out this morning that he’s planning to offer John a position as captain of the Brownlow.”
Her father’s brows rose. “That’s a big promotion.”
“Aye. With big pay. But Captain Swanwick of the Greyhound wrote to Manesty and personally recommended John. He attested to John’s change of character. And he said that if not for John’s expert seamanship, skill, and courage, they may not have survived.”
Father exchanged a look with Mother. She smiled at him, as if to give her approval.
Polly’s heart flipped with a tiny current of hope, a hope she hadn’t known was still there. When her father looked at her with wide, calm eyes, she didn’t dare breathe.
“If John is truly a changed man and is walking with God,” he said, “then I have no objection to him pursuing Polly.”
The current of hope turned into a hum of wonder. After all her father’s reservations about John, after throwing him out of the house, after banning him from seeing her again, could her father really approve of John now?
As if reading her unspoken thoughts, her father continued, “If he’s given himself over to God, then I know his heart is in the right place.”
“I have no doubt John will still struggle,” Captain Newton rushed to say.
“No one is perfect,” her father added.
“He’ll still have a lot of growing to do.”
“Don’t we all?”
The men nodded at each other, and Polly sat back, all the tension easing from her body. In all her dreams, she’d never imagined this conversation taking place, much less with her father. But watching him, she could see that he was genuinely pleased and so was Captain Newton.
“So what do you think?” Mother was smiling at her in a way that made Polly want to blush. When both men looked at her with questioning eyes, she was sure her cheeks did turn pink.
&n
bsp; She longed to nod yes, yes, yes. That she would consider John, that she’d never stopped considering him, that he’d always been woven into her heart even though she’d tried so hard to pluck him out. But she couldn’t just invite him back into her life and into her heart at the spur of the moment, could she? Surely they needed to meet again and determine if they still felt the same way about each other. After all, they’d both grown up in the years they’d been apart. What if John saw her and no longer felt the same way? Or what if she wasn’t attracted to him anymore?
And what about Billy? Her stomach clenched at the memory of his proposal and declaration of love. She’d all but said yes to him. How could she say no now?
The lines at the corners of Captain Newton’s eyes began to form a frown.
“It’s been so long since John and I have spoken,” she explained, not wishing to disappoint him but knowing she couldn’t rush into a commitment. “What if things have changed?”
Her mother nodded. “That’s perfectly understandable. You both had a childhood infatuation. And that may no longer be the case.”
Captain Newton shook his head solemnly. “I don’t think this was ever an infatuation for John. From the first time he met Polly, he was in love with her. And it never wavered. Everything he’s ever done was so that he could be with her, including leaving Africa. If not for his love for Polly, he wouldn’t have had any incentive to return home.”
The captain’s words flowed over Polly like the warmth of a gentle summer rain shower. Even so, she glanced at the bluebells on the side table where she’d laid them. Their fragrance was still sweet and strong.
She cared for Billy too. He was a good man who loved her and who would always be there for her. He’d been a steady presence in her life all along, and marriage to him would offer stability and predictability. Such qualities were appealing—and had always been lacking in John. “We shall welcome John into our home,” her father said as he searched her face. “And then we shall let the Lord will whatever he desires.”
