by Jerri Hines
Prepared for another blow, but none came. Instead, he ignored her and walked back to his desk. She had been dismissed.
Walking out the study door, Hannah found Miss James waiting for her in the hall. Miss James’ eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of Hannah. Hannah could do nothing more than pull back her hand. She watched drops of blood fall to the floor. Glancing around to see if any eyes were upon them, Miss James wrapped her arms around Hannah in a protective manner and ushered Hannah down into the kitchen.
“Good Gawd!” Mrs. Carlton cried. “What has he done to the child?”
“I’m fine,” Hannah uttered in a voice no louder than a whisper, but in the next moment a dam of tears broke.
She winced as hands went round her. Miss James led her to a chair to sit. Through the blur of tears, Hannah saw Mrs. Hayes bounded through the door.
“Oh…,” Mrs. Hayes stuttered, quickly composing herself. “This will never do. No, it will never do. Mr. Clay wants her in Mrs. Clay’s room.”
“Then we’ll clean her up,” Miss James offered. “Come, Miss Hannah. I’ll get you a dress of your cousin.”
Minutes later, Hannah was refreshed. The blood washed away; her hair brushed out and pulled back in a fashionable style. Her mourning clothing had been removed, replaced with the old gowns of her cousins. Miss James turned Hannah around.
“This will do. Don’t be nervous about Mrs. Clay. Your grandmother is a very nice lady. You’ll be fine.” Miss James lightly squeezed Hannah’s hand. She took Hannah down the hall to Mrs. Clay’s bedroom.
With each step, Hannah remembered the reason she came. Lanson’s words echoed within her mind. It won’t be easy. You have to let go of your hurt or you will let it get in the way of what you hope to accomplish. If you let the emotions get the better of you, you’ll learn nothing. The hardest thing is to build a wall and place your feelings inside. Never…ever let them see. Cling to your goal. It is now, your mission.
Each step, the pain throbbed within in, she pushed it back. Her breathing slowed. I’ve come too far to fail now. Any discomfort she ensued couldn’t be compared to what she left behind. The face of her family flashed before her. Her resolve surfaced once more. She had come with a purpose. In this she would do.
Coming to the door, Hannah thrust her shoulders back. With her head high, she walked into the bedroom with a large warm smile.
Propped upon fluffy pillows in the middle of a massive canopy framed bed, her grandmother lay in the midst of comfort. A room filled with grandeur, a large open room with high windows over viewing the extensive gardens. A frail small woman with thin silver hair, her grandmother greeted her with a gentle smile. No more a greeting than her grandmother would have given to a stranger.
Then recognition lit in the old woman’s eyes. Tears welled. She held out her trembling hands. “My dear, I have waited ever so long for your return.”
With no hesitation, Hannah ran to the woman’s side and fell into her grandmother’s arms. “I too have wanted this,” Hannah said, gently hugging her grandmother.
Her grandmother clutched tightly to Hannah, digging her fingers into her so much it hurt. Hannah forced herself not to recoil with pain. Instead, she ever so carefully eased back and caressed the side of her grandmother’s face as tears escaped. Her grandmother grasped hold of Hannah’s hand, not letting go. “There is no need for tears, Grandmother. I’m here now.”
“Let me see you, my dear. You’re still a beauty. Is she not, Alexander? Or she will be when we have her fitted properly. This gown is not fitted properly. Oh, it is most wonderful to have my Emeline back.” She pulled Hannah into another embrace.
Hannah caught her grandfather’s eyes. She smiled at him; surprisingly he gave her a small smile back.
“I’m just as thrilled, my darling. As long as you’re happy, it is all that matters. Is that not right?” Clay looked straight at Hannah.
“Yes, Grandfather. It’s my sole purpose in being here, my dearest grandmother, to make you happy. I want to hear all of what you have done and what we can do together.”
Her grandmother ran her hand over Hannah’s face. “What are we going to do with the line of gentlemen that we’ll have outside our door once more?”
For the next few minutes, Amelia Clay continued in her own world. She talked to Hannah; the next Emeline. Hannah didn’t falter with her befuddled grandmother, but charmed the woman with her stories. Hannah talked until her grandmother’s eyes waned.
“I’m afraid, my dear, I’m an old woman. I grow tired,” Amelia Clay said in her frail voice.
“Why don’t you take a small nap? I’ll stay right here. I’m sure my lunch can be brought up. Can’t it, Grandfather?” Hannah asked sweetly.
Alexander Clay seemed satisfied. He walked over and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. “It will be done. Sleep, my darling. Everything is right, just as I promised.”
He stood back up and walked toward the door. He turned ever so slightly and stared at his granddaughter. His lips pressed together. His gaze lingered but a second more. Then he turned and walked out. Had Hannah hadn’t known better she would have thought him touched by the scene.
* * * *
Hannah stood at the window as her grandmother slept soundly. The silence disturbed by the door creaking open ever so slowly. A moment later, a tentative blonde young woman crept in, followed openly by another. The shorter of the two women placed her finger over her mouth indicating not wanting to wake her grandmother.
Hannah knew instantly they were her cousins. Angelic smiles, a head full of thick blonde curls framing their faces, blue eyes and fair complexion left little doubt the two were sisters. The taller woman quietly closed the door behind them.
“Hannah, isn’t it?” the closest one to her whispered. Hannah walked over to her cousins and nodded. The girl smiled and continued, “I have been dying to meet you. I dared not until now. I can't believe that I had to wait such. I told Grandfather it wasn't fair to make me wait. I'm Camilla if you have forgotten. Of course the last time you were here, you didn't want to be.”
“Camilla, give her a chance to respond,” the other reprimanded. “I'm sure she doesn't want to relive that visit. Hopefully, this visit will be a much more pleasant one.”
“And you must be Susanna,” Hannah said. She lightly hugged both. “I don't remember much about my previous visit except glimpses of the two of you.”
“We're not supposed to meet you until tonight if Grandfather feels it's time. I don't understand why we couldn’t last night,” Camilla rambled. “I thought of sneaking upstairs.”
“Camilla,” Susanna once again scolded her sister. She turned to Hannah. “As you have learned, one doesn't question Grandfather.”
Hannah studied her cousins for a moment. Although both attractive, Susanna had a hardness within her face taking away from her otherwise delicate looks. On the other hand, Camilla seemed the exact opposite, carefree in nature. If Hannah remembered correctly, Camilla was the same age as she was-eighteen, which would put Susanna a couple of years older.
“I wish you could come stay within my room. I told Grandfather if he didn't want to waste a room, he should put you with me. I told him I wouldn't mind in the least. Maybe I should offer again,” Camilla said taking Hannah's hand leading her into the corner of the room. Her head tilted and a curl fell upon her face.
Susanna walked behind them, glancing nervously over her shoulder at the door. “You haven't a clue, Camilla. You would serve tea in the middle of a battlefield, I swear,” she said impatiently.
“We can't tarry long. I'm afraid, Hannah. Grandfather won't be pleased if he finds us. I'm sure we will meet again tonight. I heard Grandfather say the meeting went well with Grandmother. That's good.”
“Grandmother is harmless. Really, she is, Hannah,” Camilla said. “Mother says she lives in a different world. Which isn't bad at times. Don’t you think? It would be nice to live such.”
“Grandmother comes and goes,” Susanna a
greed. “And we have to go now, Camilla.”
“It'll be so fun, Cousin. I have so many things planned for us,” Camilla hugged her slightly again. “I want to hear all about Virginia. We hear such rumors you wouldn't believe.”
Susanna coughed and swallowed hard. She squeezed Hannah's hand and leaned down for her ears only. “All will be well if you're good to Grandmother. Grandfather will give you the world, for you are all she has talked of for years.”
Hannah caught Susanna's eyes for she detected a defiant tone in her voice which she hadn’t expected. She pushed the thought aside, watching the two sneak back out. Hannah sighed. She had much to learn about this household.
At night Camilla developed a habit of slipping into Hannah’s room to share the day’s events. At times Susanna would accompany her sister. Whereas Camilla talked excessively about her knowledge which extended only to parties, dresses and especially men, Susanna was a much harder person to read, more detached. Suzanna gave the impression at times that she only existed in this world and going through the motions of the day was tiresome.
A certain irritation flared in Susanna’s eyes. She seemed bothered with Hannah’s strides toward her grandfather. Hannah saw a need, perhaps, a pull. A hurt, the two shared, but Hannah couldn’t let her see her own, especially this night.
“Your appearance surprised me, Cousin,” Susanna said lying across the bed. “Father was surprised, also. He seemed to have thought from his visit that you had no interest in returning.”
“I didn't at the time,” Hannah answered truthfully. “In some matters we don't have a choice.”
“Something happened? I heard you wore mourning upon your arrival,” Susanna pressed. Her unfailing persistence urged Hannah to tell her story. “Did Grandfather do something?”
A wall surfaced quickly. Hannah shook her head. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I have seen first hand what Grandfather can do when he wants something… when he believes he has been disobeyed,” she said without emotion. She lowered her gaze.
“It's because of Walter,” Camilla whispered. “Her husband.”
“Husband?” Hannah asked surprised for she hadn't heard of a husband.
Camilla sat in silence for a moment, staring at her sister.
Susanna looked up. “Go ahead and tell her, Camilla. You started it. It can't be left hanging such,” Susanna said angrily. Then she swung around to Hannah. “You come up here to New York. For what? You have no idea the house in which you live, my dear cousin. No idea at all. What is it you hope to accomplish? A rich husband? I’m sure Grandfather can arrange it. You have him such. Just make sure he’s a Loyalist.”
“I came because I lost my family. I thought I could find solace with Grandmother,” Hannah reached for her cousin’s hand. “I'm so sorry for your loss, Susanna. I didn't know,”
“No.” Suzanna jerked back her hand. “You wouldn’t have known, because in Grandfather’s eyes it never existed. But, let me warn you, Cousin. Be warned. Stay far away from George as you can, and avoid Grandfather's wrath.”
She abruptly turned and left. Hannah glanced helplessly over at Camilla.
Camilla said in a quiet voice, “Walter died. I don’t even know what happened. They eloped. It was all so exciting, and then…and then less than a week later Susanna returns alone. You will have to forgive her. She hasn’t been the same since.”
No, thought Hannah, no one ever was when Grandfather finished enacting his revenge.
* * * *
The early morning had become a routine for Hannah. As became her habit, she breakfasted with the servants. Miss James would go to the market every other day. With her grandfather’s permission, Hannah chose to walk with her. On most days she would stop upon the church steps.
The largest church within the area constructed of stone with the steeple loomed high over most buildings. On Sunday mornings the family rode to services in a carriage, but the walk gave Hannah a sense of freedom. She had found Reverend Fulke Brown much to her liking. A large burly man, but with a tender manner about him, Reverend Brown had a rather large family himself, having outlived two wives and had a third. His sermons mesmerized Hannah, restoring within her the hope of a life after this existence.
Reverend Brown began leaving the door to the church open for her. He never asked her what her need was, but saw it within in her, and allowed her the sanctuary. On most days she never saw him, but the gesture allowed Hannah her escape. On this morning, Hannah scurried down the street, for an early morning shower had descended from the skies.
The rain didn’t bother her. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her. The chill encompassing her had little to do with the weather. She walked down the aisle until she reached the end. She knelt and prayed. She prayed for all, her father, Mother Agnes, William, Jonathan, Lydia and Gabriel. Her heart ached. She prayed that Lydia was safe.
Hannah had heard nothing from sister-in-law since her arrival nor had she heard for either Gabriel or Jonathan. It worried Hannah. She could do nothing else except pray that all were safe. Within her heart, she poured out her soul. She dare not say a spoken word of her pain. And she prayed for strength.
Finishing, she rose. Turning, she abruptly halted. A visitor sat in the back pew…one she knew well. Marcus Durham!
Fighting the surging panic within her, she glanced around the church for another avenue of escape. There were none. To her horror, Marcus walked toward her. She retreated, but he reached out and gripped tight to her arm. She jerked her arm back, but to no avail. He wasn’t releasing his grip.
A fire of hate flamed. She uttered under her breath, “Let me go!”
“I think not, Miss Corbett. You need to hear what I have to say,” Marcus said. He looked intimidating, standing tall with his cloak around him. “Imagine my surprise to hear that Alexander Clay had his charming granddaughter for a visit and how pleased he is to have her thus.”
Hannah glared at him. All the bitter loathing, anger and revulsion she had suppressed surfaced upon his appearance, but no words came forth. She tried once more to jerk away. He pulled her closer.
“Hannah, you may not believe me, but I want to help you. Listen to me. Your grandfather is a hard man…a cruel man. You won’t have the freedom you had in Virginia. And he doesn’t trust you. Make no mistake about that. I thought you had no intention of coming here.”
“That was before the whole of my family was destroyed. In which you, Mr. Durham, I’m certain had dealings. I question why you now are warning me against my own grandfather. Wasn’t this what you wanted? But that wasn’t why you were there anyway. Was it? Tell me, sir, do you get to know all your victims personally?” she uttered. Her abhorrence oozed forth from her being.
“Hannah, I’m a Colonel in the British army. This is a British colony. I had a mission and completed it. I did my duty.”
“Duty?” she flung the word at him. “Was it your duty to kill my mother? My family? Have you any idea what they did to her and would have done to me?”
“Hannah, be warned, that was your uncle’s dealings. That is why I sought your company this morning. Go home. Don’t tarry here,” he said.
She said nothing. She had no intentions listening to this man…no intention of leaving.
“If you stay, I have been called away. I won’t be able to look after you.”
She gave a forced laugh and pulled back her arm, seething. “Go. I don’t need the likes of you to look after me! Nor do I want you to. Do you know how I feel about you? I hate you. With everything in me, I hate no one more that you.
“Colonel Durham, my family is dead, and you were the cause. I know that very well and feel the loss every day. You have done your job well and can take pride in your accomplishment. But I’m not your concern. Leave me alone.”
She didn't wait for a retort. Indignantly, she walked around him and out the door, leaving him with his thoughts.
Chapter Ten
Haym Tepper pinned the hem of the gown a ta
d higher than he had first begun. His mind had wandered. He had issued an invitation well over a week hence and hadn't received a response. Not the usual nature when it pertained to his dress shop. Tepper, a short, middle aged man of Jewish decent, had emigrated from Europe to New York years before, opening one of the most popular shops in New York.
He had command of several different languages and a very personable character. He never spoke of his family, but he had carried an intense hatred toward the British across the ocean. He not only advocated the call for independence, he poured his own money into it financially. His views, though, he held from public view with good reason.
Behind the intent of the dress shop had been his network, an extensive one through New York against the British. His network had yet established a link with the one the Continental Congress, but had begun the process. When he heard through Barnaby Laning on the docks about setting up a possible connection with the Americans, he expressed his interest in the prospect.
His usual manner hid well his potential excitement. Although he heard his connection was female, which in itself gave pause to the situation, the prospect of establishing a link within the most prominent Loyalist in the city couldn't be overlooked. He knew well Clay's reputation, Tepper realized though the greatest gains only came with the greatest obstacles to overcome.
A bell rung. Someone entered the front door. He could hear Cora greet the customers. Cora, his most faithful of employees, had worked for him for too many years to count. He didn't trust many, but he trusted Cora. Cora, a homely big bones woman, had lost her husband at the hands of the British many years hence.
“Yes, ma'am,” Cora's voiced carried down the hall. “I do believe I remember him talking of you. Mr. Tepper has been expecting you.”
On cue, Tepper walked into the lobby, pleasantly surprised to find Mrs. Leona Wicks with her two daughters and another attractive female accompanying the women. With a smile upon his face, he gently introduced himself to the older lady by taking her hand to his lips.
