Shadows of Love

by Gail MacMillan

  Together Barret, little Colin, and I went slowly down the narrow stairs and through the garish house. As we passed doorways, a number of half-dressed women emerged to follow us to the front entrance. I longed to be out of the place, away from its tawdry sensuality, and shuddered inwardly when I thought of the child Barret growing up in such an unhealthy environment.

  As I was struggling to open the front door for Barret, who was leaning heavily on my shoulders, the madame who’d admitted me to Barret’s room, now wearing a black, low-cut silk gown, stopped us with a glittering hand on his arm.

  “Good luck, love,” she said, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry I had to put you in that cell, but since you weren’t a paying customer I couldn’t give you a room my ladies needed.”

  “It’s all right, Maggie,” he said hoarsely. “My mother and I spent many good years in that garret. And without its shelter this time, I would have died in the street.” He looked into her painted, haggard face and smiled. “I’ll be fine now. This is Starr, the woman I told you about. The child is our son. I’m going to live with them.”

  “Well, then, all the best, my pet,” Maggie gave him a hug. “Lise would have been happy to see you with a family of your own. You’ve been like a son to me all these years, but this isn’t a fit place for you to call home. Take care of him, my girl. He’s always been a good lad.”

  As we made our way to the waiting cab, now with Jared and Randall’s help, I understood why Barret had sought solace in Maggie’s establishment. Maggie, the madame of that house of ill fame, had loved him as a mother. And for all her less-than-admirable lifestyle, she appeared to have greater capacity for true affection in even one of her heavily ringed fingers than Abraham Douglas had in his entire body.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We returned to the cottage where Jared, Randall, and I had deposited our belongings before going in search of Barret. Once seated on the wide, open verandah facing the sea he loved, Barret revived. He shared a bottle of wine with the two men while I settled Colin for the night.

  Through an open window, I could hear them talking, even laughing at times as they spoke of successful voyages. It did my heart good to hear Barret restored to the man I’d known him to be, even though I realized all three men were carefully picking their topics of conversation. None were ready to get into deep and potentially troublesome subjects at the moment.

  By the time I rejoined them, Randall and Jared had gathered up their belongings. They would be spending the remainder of our stay on the island at an inn in the village, they declared.

  “That’s not necessary…” I began to protest, but Randall silenced me with a finger to my lips.

  “Yes, it is, sweet sister.” He smiled. “You and Barret need to be alone together…with your child.”

  “Well,” I said, turning to face Barret after they’d gone. In spite of the ravages of his recent illness, he was still a devastatingly handsome, virile man with commanding presence. I was suddenly as shy as a virgin bride before him.

  “Well,” he repeated, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs. “It seems I have much to apologize for.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, leaning against one of the verandah’s supporting pillars.

  “Where do you want me to begin?” He looked over at me, gray eyes cool and steady.

  “By saying you still love me. By asking me to marry you. By becoming the legal father of our child.”

  “Very well. Of course I still love you. It was the thought of giving you up, of never having you as my wife, that drove me to lose myself in drugs.”

  “And the possibility that you’d slept with your best friend’s already pregnant spouse?” I knew I was being cruel, but I had to strike back, to get the pain he’d caused me out of my mind.

  “Yes, that, too. Starr…” He looked away from me. “You must understand how it appeared to me…when I believed I was sterile.”

  “Yes, but Barret, when you denied me, left me…” My voice broke, and I turned away, unable to continue.

  I heard him rise from his chair and come to stand close behind me. Then his hands were on my shoulders, his cheek against my hair.

  “I’ll never leave you again,” he said huskily. “I swear before God. That is”—he turned me to face him—“if you’ll agree to be my wife.”

  “Yes, Barret, oh, yes.”

  “Excellent. But tonight I refuse to wait for a church and a priest. We’ve been apart too long.”

  With amazing strength he gathered me up into his arms. In the last rays of an exotic tropical sunset, he carried me inside to bed.

  ****

  The next morning, over breakfast, Barret informed me of his startling decision.

  He was going to take me back to Pine, where we would be married by the priest in the Catholic church, Little Chapel of Jesus. Afterwards we would settle in the village.

  “Surely you can’t be serious! Abraham controls the entire valley, and he despises both of us. You’ll never find employment. If we went to Halifax, you could obtain a command. Your reputation as an outstanding master mariner is…”

  “Destroyed,” he said. “Since Abe saw to it that I lost my master’s ticket, I’ve been an opium addict and lived in a whorehouse. My reputation, as you call it, is in ruins. I have to start to rebuild from less than nothing, and Pine is where I’ve chosen to do it.”

  ****

  We sailed back to the little New Brunswick village with Jared and Randall at the end of the week. With our ship docked at Pine, we remained aboard until everyone else had disembarked. Then, under cover of darkness, Barret, Colin, and I made our way furtively ashore to find the appointed spot where Randall had left Lucifer and Lady, with Colin’s guitar tied to her saddle, in readiness for us. Together we rode to Darcy’s cabin.

  We discovered Jared had chopped wood, lighted lamps and a fire, and prepared the stable for our horses. Mary and Bridgit had left coffee, a pot of stew, and two loaves of fresh bread waiting with a note of welcome. The rooms had been cleaned, the bed made up. There was nothing left to do but ride to the Little Chapel of Jesus to be wed.

  We were married shortly before midnight in the reverend hush of the little log church deep in the forest behind the village of Pine. Randall and Bridgit served as witnesses, while little Colin waited in his basket at the rear of the chapel.

  As we knelt before the big, kindly priest and said our vows, Barret slipped a narrow gold band, supplied by Jared, onto my finger. Afterward Randall, Mary, Jared, and Bridgit came back to the cabin with us, and we celebrated our joy with them over several bottles of excellent champagne supplied by Randall. Then they left and we were alone as husband and wife.

  ****

  The next morning Barret got up early and announced he was going to see Abraham to seek employment. He was like a new man, confident and bold—the master I had once known, revived again.

  “I’ll be a ship’s master again in a matter of months,” he said. “Abe can’t afford to hold a grudge against me. He needs me in command of the Maris Stella, with those mail contracts looming in the near future. Jared is a good man, but he’s no commodore. I’ll be back in the old man’s good graces in no time.”

  “Don’t be mad.” I scrambled from the bed and began to pull on my clothes. “If you dare to go near Abraham Douglas, he’ll have you crucified. This is no small grudge he holds against us.”

  “Do we have any coffee?” He went to the hearth to begin to build up a breakfast fire.

  “Very well. Since you’re determined to carry out this madness, Colin and I will go with you,” I said, fastening up my gown. “We’re family. If Abraham decides to punish you, he’ll have to punish all three of us.”

  An hour later we stood on the verandah of Peacock House and waited while an astounded Rose went to inform Abraham of our presence.

  Shortly, the entrepreneur came striding to the door, his face red-purple with rage.

  “God damn you, sir!” he roared at Barret. “How dare
you bring this tramp and her bastard to my home. Filthy fornicator! Remorseless traitor! I should blow your head off.”

  “Starr is my legal wife,” Barret replied evenly. “I would be grateful if you would refer to her and our son civilly.” There was a static hiatus as the two men faced each other. Then Barret continued, “I want my job back, Abe.”

  I couldn’t help but admire my husband, even in those moments of what I considered insanity. Bold and unflinching, he faced the heavily breathing despot and exuded perfect command both of himself and of the situation.

  “You never change, do you?” Abraham said, when his breathing allowed him to reply. “You’re still as bold as brass and twice as hard. You realize you broke your word to me in fathering a child on Colin’s lady, and yet you have the unmitigated gall to stand here before me and request employment that you might house and feed the bitch and her whelp.”

  I saw Barret’s hands knot into white-knuckled fists at his sides, but still he controlled himself.

  “Well, sir, I have only one position available,” Abraham continued, an expression of cold, vindictive pleasure coming over his face. “It’s one as an ordinary seaman on one of my guano carriers. The job requires scraping droppings from rocks and piling it in the holds, then unloading it again when the vessel docks. As I recall, you had a strong distaste for such labor.”

  He started to close the door, but Barret’s hand shot out to halt it.

  “I accept,” he said.

  ****

  A week later, Randall came to visit. He was alone in a carriage filled with bags and bundles, and jumped down from the driver’s seat to greet me with alacrity when I ran out of the cabin to meet him.

  “Randall!” I cried in delight. “I’m so glad you’ve come. We’ve missed you.”

  “And I you, sweet sister,” he replied. “But newlyweds need time alone, I’ve been told. Where’s Barret?”

  “He’s working in the stable,” I said, taking his arm and drawing him toward the rear of the house. “Barret, look who’s come to visit,” I called as we came to the door of the small log stable.

  Barret emerged. He was dirty and sweating, his cheap, mended clothing clinging to his body. I wondered what my husband, once a veritable fashionplate, must be feeling as he stood before his handsomely dressed and groomed friend.

  Pity and guilt stabbed at me. His wretched state was my fault. If I had not come into his life, he would still be Abraham Douglas’s swashbuckling lieutenant. As God is my witness, I vowed, I will one day, before I die, see him once again dressed in the finery he enjoys.

  With our help Randall unloaded the carriage. He had brought food and blankets for little Colin, he said simply, but the abundance belied his casual description. He was providing a beginning for all three of us in a way he’d determined would be least offensive to Barret’s pride.

  “Starr and my son need these things, Randall,” Barret surprised me by accepting the supplies. “I’ll repay you when I’m able. Presently the best I can do is to express my gratitude. Abe has denied us credit in the village. I was beginning to think I would have to sell the horses to provide for my family, no matter how badly I’ll need them to plow a garden in the spring.”

  “You plan to farm?” Randall’s eyes widened.

  “It’ll help provide us with food.” Barret shrugged. “My wages on a guano ship won’t be enough to sustain us.”

  “Dear God, Barret!” Randall threw the bag of provisions he’d been lifting from the carriage to the ground in disgust. “How can he be so vindictive? Go to the man, face the old blackheart with the facts! Tell him the truth about yourself! And”—he hesitated—“about Colin.”

  “Never!”

  “Damn it, Barret, I delivered that little boy you’re so proud of. I care about him and his mother. Don’t let your son grow up not knowing who his family really is. Don’t let him think of you as a guano shoveller.”

  “Never,” Barret repeated and snatched up a bundle to carry into the cabin.

  ****

  In early November, Barret came into the cabin and shut the door on the wind and snow. His shabby clothing was crusted with sleet and his face was haggard from cold.

  “We sail at first light,” he said, pulling off his mittens. He removed his boots, then went to the fire to hold cold, callused hands out to its warmth. He had been working as a groom in Abe’s stable while he waited for the voyage.

  “If you leave for Cuba now, you won’t be back until…”

  “Spring,” he said pulling off his coat and hat.

  “Barret, you can’t leave me alone all winter. Colin and I need you.”

  “It’s the only job I can get in this village,” he said, dropping into a chair by the hearth and leaning forward to flex his work-sore hands in the heat. “If I take this voyage, I may get a bo’sun’s position in the spring. You won’t be the only woman spending the winter alone with her child. Johnny Kelly has signed on, as well. He needs money, too…money his work in the steam pit can’t provide in winter.”

  “And if I won’t agree? I’ll take Colin and go to Halifax if you leave me again.”

  “No!” He was on his feet and towering over me, his face dark and incensed in the firelight. “You’ll never leave me. You’ll never make Colin grow up a bastard like me!”

  A sickening warmth enveloped me. I passed a hand over my eyes in an effort to steady myself.

  “Starr, sweet Jesus! Starr, I’m sorry.”

  He was beside me, steadying me, his face contorted with concern.

  I looked up at him, lightheaded and nauseous.

  “Help me to bed, Barret,” I murmured. “I feel ill.”

  He gathered me up in his arms and carried me into the cubicle we called our bedroom. Once I was on the bed, he knelt beside me.

  “I’m sorry, Starr,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. But I have to go. I have to win back Abe’s trust.”

  ****

  Shortly after Christmas, Colin fell ill. Our supply of dry firewood had dwindled to an alarming level, and I was trying to conserve by letting the fires burn low at night when my son and I were wrapped up in our bed.

  Colin, however, had developed a skill common to many babies, that of kicking off his covers. One night in early January I awoke to hear him breathing with a fearful, rasping sound. I scrambled from my bed and rushed to his crib. He sounded like another Colin I remembered—another Colin who had been subject to life-threatening bouts with pneumonia.

  I struggled into my clothing, my boots and cloak. Outside a blizzard raged, but I was heedless to its dangers. My baby needed a doctor. My baby needed Randall.

  Rose answered the door of Peacock House in response to my desperate beating upon it.

  “Rose, my baby is ill!” I gasped, clutching Colin inside a frozen shawl. “I must see Mr. Randall at once.”

  Caroline, resplendent in a flowing gown of warm tangerine velvet, suddenly appeared beside the staring maid.

  “Well, well,” she gloated. “A beggar. Close the door, Rose. We don’t give handouts to tramps.”

  “You arrogant bitch!” Gram’s voice snapped across my failing strength and aroused it to one more effort. “Get out of my way! Let the child inside at once!”

  In a haze of exhaustion and relief, I saw the old lady reaching out to draw me into the warmth and light of the great house. “Randall,” she called. “Randall, come here at once!”

  As she slammed the door on the elements, Randall appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Carry the child to my room, boy,” Gram ordered, looking up at him. “He’s ill. You, there, girl.” She snapped at Rose. “Take my granddaughter to her old room and get her dry clothing and hot food.”

  After the slightest hesitation and a furtive glance at the glowering Lady Caroline, the young woman bobbed a curtsy. Randall took Colin from me. Relieved of motherly responsibilities, I sagged against a wall, the last of my strength leaving me in a gush.

  ****


  It was dawn when Randall came to see me as I lay in bed in the room that had once been Colin’s and mine. He smiled as he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I knew my son would live.

  “He’s over the crisis,” he said. “But he’s still very weak and will need my care for some time. I’ll tell Father you’re both to remain here until I deem it safe for you to leave.”

  “Thank you. What would I do without you, my dear brother?”

  “Rather, what would I do without you, sweet sister.” He smiled again and bent to place a kiss on my cheek. “You’ve brought love and joy and indomitable courage into this house of cold ruthlessness and insensitivity. I’ll always love you. You give me the support and affection I’ll never get from the woman I married.”

  “Why did you marry Caroline?”

  “When I learned my father had paid Caroline’s impoverished gambling parent, Lord Newton, to send out his titled daughter to be my wife, I was outraged,” he replied slowly. “I swore I wouldn’t capitulate again…not after giving up medicine for the law to satisfy him. On the day her ship docked, I took a carriage and drove to the wharf, determined to reject the lady and send her straight back to England on the next ship.

  “I was late arriving. All the other passengers and most of the crew had left. It was growing dark and there she sat, stiff and prim and all alone, on a pile of deal, wearing a threadbare dress and a cloak at least ten years out of fashion. In her hands, she clutched a tattered portmanteau. She looked so destitute and brave and alone, my heart went out to her. I could have sent a rich, glittering lady packing. I could not reject the shabby, shivering young woman I found on that pier.”

  “So you married her out of compassion…as Colin married me.” The similarity of the situations was undeniable.

  “I suppose,” he said. “But Colin was lucky. He married an angel. I, on the other hand, married a succabus.”

  “Succabus?” I asked.

  “A female creature that lures men into her bed and then puts their souls into hell. Caroline certainly did that to me. On our wedding night, she refused to allow me to touch her. She teased and frustrated me until I became drunk. I don’t recall making love to her.” He walked to a window and pushed aside the curtains to gaze out into the beginnings of a gray winter’s morning.