’Course, I do na know if that’s true. But I’m thinkin’ if the tonic could make me mistress sick enough to take to her bed, it surely could be the cause of them girls getting’ sick and dyin’.’’
Dr. Hartzfeld slapped his hand on his knee. ‘‘I believe you just may have happened onto something. I’ll go and talk to the mill supervisors and see if they can ascertain how many of the sick girls have been taking the elixir. Possibly the families or friends of the girls who died will know if they were using the tonic. Excellent deductions, girl.’’
‘‘And what of me mistress?’’
‘‘Hard to tell. If I were a gambling man,’’ he speculated, ‘‘I’d have to bet against the baby making it, but if she’ll remain in bed and take care of herself, there may be a chance. She’ll need constant care.’’
‘‘I can care for her.’’
‘‘I’ll tell Bradley of her need to remain bedfast and mention your willingness to care for Mrs. Houston. You’d be the best choice with your abilities. You’ve no doubt saved her life today.’’
Dr. Hartzfeld strode to the bedroom window and looked down.
‘‘Mrs. Wainwright is here. Bradley stopped to tell her of Jasmine’s difficulty as we were leaving town. I’m not surprised to see her.
She was distraught when she heard the news. I’d best go downstairs and talk with them.’’
Kiara remained behind to watch over her mistress, and before long she could hear Dr. Hartzfeld explaining Jasmine’s condition.
Soon after, the three of them entered the bedroom, and Alice Wainwright rushed to her granddaughter’s bedside.
‘‘I’ve explained your willingness to care for Mrs. Houston,’’ Dr.
Hartzfeld said.
‘‘And we are most grateful,’’ Alice added. ‘‘I think it would be best if we placed a cot in the room for Kiara. That would permit her to be with Jasmine around the clock. After all, we don’t want her alone for a minute, do we?’’ She looked toward Bradley.
‘‘Jasmine certainly needs care, but I don’t know that she needs Kiara sleeping in here at night,’’ he replied. ‘‘If she looks in on her several times throughout the night, that should be sufficient.’’
‘‘Foolishness and stuff, Bradley! That makes no sense. Kiara would get no rest popping up and down throughout the night, and Jasmine might begin cramping at any time. A cot in this room for Kiara is the only way to proceed.’’
Bradley nodded. ‘‘You’re right. I’ll see to it immediately.’’
Kiara glanced heavenward. Perhaps God had seen her plight, heard her prayers, and was having mercy after all.
CHAPTER • 25
SLOWLY, AS THE weeks passed and October gave way to November, Jasmine regained her strength. The combination of removing Bradley’s stressful social requirements from her schedule, along with eliminating Dr. Horatio’s Spice of Life from her daily regimen, was working wonders. And the time with Jasmine was a blessed relief for Kiara.
The women spent hours talking, with Jasmine stitching her needlepoint while Kiara fashioned her lace into delicate three-dimensional pendants of butterflies, grape clusters, and nodding daffodils that she attached to black velvet ribbons to be worn instead of jewels around the neck. Captivated by the creations, Alice Wainwright had worn one of the designs to the Governor’s Ball, which had been held in Boston several weeks previous. She had returned from Boston, delighted to tell Kiara that Sophia Dallas, the vice-president’s wife, was in attendance and had been so impressed with her skill she requested five sets of lace cuffs. Kiara had been hard at work on the project, though truth be known, she made more money creating the small pendants. And money was what she needed if she was to accomplish her goal and get out of Bradley Houston’s clutches.
There was little doubt that once the babe arrived, she’d be relegated back to the attic to do his evil bidding. However, by then she hoped to have enough money to take Paddy and run off to Boston. Her greatest blessing was in knowing that she had not conceived by Bradley. It would have been impossible to explain a pregnancy, and no doubt Bradley would have forced her to do something awful to rid herself of the child. She could never imagine thanking God for making her barren, but at this moment that was exactly the praise she offered.
Once I’ve saved enough money, Paddy and I will head to Boston. No one knows us there and our own people will be more than willing to protect us.
‘‘You’re very quiet this morning,’’ Jasmine said, giving her a cheerful smile.
Kiara smiled in return but said nothing. Her thoughts were on the future, but she could not share those ideas with her mistress.
‘‘Bradley was required to make a trip to Boston this morning.
He came in to bid me farewell while you were dressing in the other room. He was in an agitated state when he departed, although it seems he’s unhappy most of the time. I’m certain much of his unpleasant temperament has to do with my confinement.
Likely he’ll be fine once the baby comes.’’
‘‘There’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to ask ya, ma’am, but if ya do na want to answer, just tell me.’’
Jasmine grinned at Kiara. They’d become as close as sisters since the doctor had ordered Jasmine to remain abed. ‘‘I’ve told you everything about my life, Kiara. Surely you know there’s nothing you can’t ask me. We’re friends.’’
‘‘Ya’ve told me about how ya were forced to marry Mr. Houston, but I’m wonderin’ how ya manage to live with a man who is so . . .’’
‘‘Sour?’’
‘‘That was na exactly the word I was searchin’ fer, but it’ll do.’’
Jasmine stabbed her needle into the fabric and met Kiara’s gaze.
‘‘Even before I married Bradley, I was angry at being forced into a loveless marriage. Then as time passed and I could not please him, I thought God had turned His back on me.’’
‘‘Sure and I know that feelin’.’’
‘‘Do you remember the Sunday when Bradley was out of town and I told you I wanted to go early and attend church with Grandmother?’’ ‘‘Aye. The driver took me and Paddy to St. Patrick’s that mornin’.’’ Jasmine nodded her head. ‘‘That morning the preacher’s sermon was on several verses from the book of Job. It was as though the sermon had been written just for me. I had become angry with God, blaming Him for my circumstances, but ever since I heard that sermon, I’ve attempted to apply the principles to my life. I’ve grown closer to God, even though my marriage has not improved.’’
‘‘What was it that preacher told ya that made such a difference?’’ Kiara asked, leaning forward.
‘‘He said our suffering and pain does not come from God because God’s character and nature is love. Our woes come from Satan, but God sometimes uses our trials so we will seek Him because He desires a closer relationship with us. He explained that through all of Job’s suffering, he continued to trust God. Because of Job’s trust and faithfulness, God greatly blessed the remainder of Job’s life.
‘‘I’m trusting that God has a plan to bless my life and that I will be happy. Who knows? Perhaps this baby will bring us together and we will find happiness as a family.’’
Kiara gave her a sidelong look. ‘‘Perhaps. And for your sake, I hope that’s true. But I do na see why people must suffer so much when God could cause it to come to an end.’’
‘‘I know. None of us want to go through difficulties, but living with Bradley has made me a stronger person, yet more dependent upon God.’’
‘‘Ya’re stronger, but ya’re weaker? That does na make much sense.’’
‘‘I know my words sound like a contradiction, but being dependent on God is a strength, not a weakness. It’s through trusting Him we finally become spiritual warriors, able to withstand the difficulties that come our way.’’
‘‘I’m na lookin’ to be a warrior, ma’am. I’d settle on just lettin’ someone else take a few of the arrows that’ve been directed me way.’’
Jasmine’s lips curved into a sympathetic smile. ‘‘Grandmother challenged me to begin reading my Bible every morning and spending time with God before I begin my day. Of course, now that I’ve been abed so long, it hasn’t been difficult. Would you like to read with me in the mornings?’’
Kiara looked down at the floor. ‘‘I’m na so good at readin’.’’
‘‘I could read aloud if you like.’’
‘‘Aye. That would be fine. Ya can read to me about Job, and I can hear firsthand what kind of blessin’s he got for all that sufferin’.’’ ‘‘Job it is. We’ll begin tomorrow morning. Kiara, I know you’re unhappy here, but having you with me during this time has brought me great joy. I want you to know that if I could grant you and Paddy your freedom, I would do so.’’
‘‘Thank ya fer thinkin’ kindly of Paddy and me. ’Twould be a miracle for certain if we could go and live in the Acre.’’
‘‘After all our talks regarding my desire to help free slaves in the future, you know I don’t believe in slavery. And I don’t see a great deal of difference between slavery and servitude. I’m going to try to find some way to convince Bradley to release you from your papers. It may take some imagination, but surely I can think of something.’’
‘‘Don’t do nothin’ that would cause his wrath. I’d never fergive myself if somethin’ happened because ya were arguing for me freedom.’’ Jasmine angled her gaze at Kiara. ‘‘I know Bradley has a foul temper and he’s struck Paddy on occasion. Has he ever hit you?’’
Kiara shook her head. ‘‘Are ya going to keep on with the antislavery meetin’s after the babe’s born?’’ she asked.
Jasmine’s eyes brightened. ‘‘Yes. As much as I can, but I can’t let Bradley know, and with the baby, it will be more difficult.’’
Pleased her mistress appeared oblivious to the change in topic,
Kiara picked up a bobbin of thread from her bag. ‘‘I’d be proud to help ya if there’s any way I can be of assistance. Even if it’s just watchin’ after the wee babe while ya’re busy helpin’ with the runaways.’’ ‘‘Thank you, Kiara. You’ve become the dearest friend I could ever hope for. Now let me see that new design you’re working on.’’
Kiara held up the piece of lace and wondered what Mrs.
Houston would think if she discovered what had happened in the attic room. Would Jasmine believe Bradley had come to her against her will? Or would she believe her husband’s lies? Perhaps if Kiara would trust like Job, her mistress would never learn the truth.
Jasmine examined Kiara’s workmanship, her fingers tracing the delicate petals of the lace rose. ‘‘It’s lovely,’’ she said, extending the piece toward Kiara.
Suddenly she leaned forward with a gasp and emitted a shrill cry. ‘‘I think the baby is coming! My water has broken.’’ Her eyes reflected the odd combination of fear, pain, and elation that expectant mothers experience when birth is imminent.
‘‘I’ll send Paddy fer the doctor and be back before ya have a chance to miss me.’’
Her sturdy leather shoes barely touched the floor as she raced down the steps and ran outside to the barn. While Paddy saddled the horse, she gave him detailed instructions. ‘‘If the doctor is busy, do na wait for him. Tell him of our need and then come back and tell me so I’ll na be sittin’ here thinkin’ somethin’ has happened to ya. I’ll go ahead and deliver the babe myself if ya can na bring the doctor.’’
‘‘Aye,’’ the boy replied. He swung himself up into the saddle and was off and down the driveway before Kiara reentered the house.
Sarah met her at the back door, her eyes wide with fear. ‘‘The mistress is calling for you. She’s begun her labor. I went up there, but you know how I am with sickness.’’
Kiara nodded as the two of them walked toward the stairway.
‘‘I know, Sarah, but this is a babe bein’ born, not a sickness. If you can na bear to be upstairs, at least stay where you can hear me should I need to call fer yar help.’’
Sarah’s complexion turned the shade of day-old ashes. ‘‘I’ll be down here praying—both for the mistress and for you.’’
Kiara grinned. ‘‘Ya might want to add a prayer fer yarself—that I’ll not be needin’ yar help.’’
Sarah dropped into a chair in the foyer, her body slumped into an abject heap. ‘‘Paddy’s gone for the doctor?’’
‘‘Yes. He should return soon. And there’s yet another prayer fer ya. Pray the doctor is na busy with another patient.’’
When Kiara returned upstairs, she carried string, scissors, clean sheets, and blankets. By then, Jasmine was writhing in pain. ‘‘I think it’s close to time.’’
‘‘It’s much too soon. Ya’ve only just begun yar pains. Can ya roll on yar side, and I’ll change the bed and get ya more comfortable. Sure and I’m glad we put that oilcloth on the bed last week,’’ she said in a soothing voice.
Jasmine cooperated with Kiara’s ministrations, and by the time the bedding had been changed, Dr. Hartzfeld was entering the room. He carried his black leather medical bag in one hand and his top hat in the other. ‘‘I was surprised to see Paddy,’’ he said. ‘‘I thought it would be at least another week or two before the baby came. Let’s check and see how you’re progressing.’’
Two hours later, Jasmine’s baby boy fought his way into the world and, with a lusty cry, announced his arrival. ‘‘He’s a big, healthy boy,’’ Dr. Hartzfeld announced. ‘‘Too bad Bradley isn’t here to see his son.’’
‘‘He should be home within a day or two,’’ Jasmine replied while glancing down at the cherub-cheeked infant. ‘‘Hello, Spencer,’’ she cooed while running her fingertips through the baby’s downy-soft brown hair.
‘‘Spencer? Is that the name you’ve chosen?’’ the doctor inquired.
‘‘Yes. Bradley said the child was to be his father’s namesake.’’
Dr. Hartzfeld chuckled. ‘‘Then I’d say it’s a good thing you had a boy. Can’t imagine a little girl running around with that moniker.’’ ‘‘Nor I,’’ Jasmine agreed, returning his smile.
Kiara listened to the baby’s lusty cry and felt awash in sadness.
Would she ever know the joy of such a moment? She backed away from the scene, knowing she was imposing and no longer needed.
Bradley walked out of his Boston hotel and hailed a passing carriage. The Associates had called a meeting, one that would be held at the Beacon Hill home Nathan Appleton had recently constructed. Although Nathan had finally succumbed to his wife’s request for a home in the posh neighborhood, he’d not given in to an elaborate edifice. In fact, the house was, by Beacon Hill standards, somewhat common. When he’d seen the return address on the envelope, he thought perhaps the Appletons were hosting an open house to celebrate the move into their new home. Instead, the contents had been a rather ominous-sounding notification that all members were expected to be present for the meeting in order to discuss several critical issues.
The message had given him brief concern, but he soon decided there might be talk of further expansion. If so, those favoring such action would want a quorum present in the event the matter could be taken to a vote. Expansion was a fine idea— they’d need more cotton to operate additional mills. He leaned back and rested his head against the supple leather of the carriage seat. Between Jasmine and Kiara, his life had grown increasingly complicated and unsatisfying. He’d been unable to accomplish work of any consequence since the day Kiara had moved into his wife’s room to care for her. From his observations, they were becoming much too friendly, and the possibility of Kiara revealing the details of his secret visits to her attic bedroom loomed large in his mind. Instead of concentrating on his work, he obsessed over the prospect—not wanting to admit fear now consumed him.
As a stern-faced servant took Bradley’s coat and hat, he noticed that the Appleton residence was brimming with members who were making their way from the dining room into the library. It was obvious he had been intent
ionally excluded. He hadn’t misread the meeting notice; the words had been far too ill-omened.
Since there were no other members presently arriving, he wondered if he had been the only member banned from the dinner party. The prospect was disquieting, but he attempted to remain calm.
Intentionally, Bradley wended his way through the gathering and approached Nathan. ‘‘Good evening, Nathan. I trust you’ve had an enjoyable dinner.’’
‘‘Indeed we have,’’ Nathan replied. ‘‘If you’ll excuse me, I must speak to Matthew before commencing the meeting.’’ Without explanation, he turned and walked away.
Bradley searched the room for a friendly face. Either his paranoia was taking root, or those in attendance were intentionally avoiding his company. There seemed to be no one interested in making contact with him. He spotted Robert Woolsey near the fireplace and advanced.
‘‘Robert! Good to see you,’’ Bradley said, forcing a smile and clapping him on the shoulder.
‘‘Good evening, Bradley.’’ Robert moved back a step, his discomfort obvious as he inched away. ‘‘I was hoping to have a word with Josiah, if you’ll excuse me.’’
‘‘That’s fine. I’d like to visit with Josiah also,’’ Bradley said, unwilling to permit his captive’s escape. Robert had always been an ally, and right now Bradley needed the support of a comrade.
At this point in time he cared little whether the patronage was zealous or reluctant. He would accept any modicum of alliance.
‘‘Was the dinner to your liking?’’
‘‘Quite enjoyable.’’
‘‘I must have misread my notice. I didn’t recall reading about dinner preceding the meeting.’’
‘‘That’s too bad,’’ Robert said as he drew near to Josiah.
‘‘Josiah, I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private.’’ Josiah gave Bradley a sidelong glance and then turned his attention to Robert. ‘‘Of course. I doubt whether Nathan would mind if we stepped into his office for a few moments. Excuse us, Bradley.’’
Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01] Page 28
