Life was good. A man couldn’t ask for anything more than beach, sun and family.
Ronan fell down into the sand and yelled out to everyone around him, “Who wants to bury this here treasure? Bring all hands on deck!”
John, Charles, Elizabeth and Marie all shouted in unison, “Me!” And together, they darted over and started doing exactly that.
“Not the face,” Ronan warned. “Not the face!”
“Matthew!” Bernadette called out as waves slowly rolled against her muslin skirts, splashing water up and around her. “Might you join me?”
He lifted a brow and gestured toward Annabelle. “Can’t you see the Captain here is keeping me hostage?”
“Bring the Captain along.”
“Yes, Mrs. Captain.” Matthew jumped onto his bare feet and grabbed up Annabelle, yanking her up and into his arms.
“Did I say we were done?” Annabelle tossed up at him, clearly not pleased.
He leaned in and whispered, “The pirates are coming. So we have to make a run for it.” With that, he dashed with her, giggling and bouncing along in his arms, toward Bernadette. Arriving at the edge of the water, he plunked down Annabelle and called out, “Abandon ship!”
Annabelle giggled again and darted around him. Her bare feet sprinted toward Ronan, who was being buried, kicking up sand and her skirts. “I want to bury him, too.”
Pleased to have a moment alone with his wife, Matthew grabbed hold of Bernadette’s waist and dragged her over. “Are you enjoying all things known as privateering?”
“More than you will ever know.” She searched his face for a long moment, her dark eyes bright. “He is coming.”
Matthew paused. “Who is coming?”
“Andrew.”
Matthew stared down at her, his stomach almost flipping. “You mean...Andrew, Andrew?”
She grinned and nodded. “Andrew, Andrew. I wanted to wait until I was certain. Remember how ill I was on the ship? Apparently it wasn’t sickness of the sea. We are going to have our own. Just as Georgia had predicted.”
His eyes widened. He was going to be a father. Again. Grabbing her face, he kissed her hard. Releasing her, he dragged himself down the length of her and fell upon his knees into the sand and water, drenching his trousers and linen shirt.
He rubbed his hand against that belly, which had yet to grow, and kissed it several times. He glanced up at her. “And what if it’s a girl?”
“If it is a girl, we will have to call her Andrewlina.” Her tone indicated she was rather serious.
He snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
She stared down at him. “Georgia gave us this baby, Matthew. We honor that by having Andrew somewhere in his or her name.”
He laughed and put up both hands, rising. “I’m not about to argue with the woman I love. If it’s a girl, Andrewlina Milton it is.”
* * * * *
Coleman’s story is next! Look for
FOREVER A LORD, coming soon
from Delilah Marvelle and HQN Books.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
THE TRUTH TELLER was a real newspaper with a very unique history. On April 2, 1825, The Truth Teller debuted with its first printing. It was published every Saturday out of Office No. 95 Maiden-Lane. It was New York City’s first Irish-Catholic paper and was created by a gentleman whose motto was Truth Is Powerful and Will Prevail. With a motto and a message like that, I knew I had to dig in and find a story to match its passion and flavor.
As I continued to research the paper’s history, I was fortunate enough to dig up the actual paper from the archives of the New York City Library. Reading through years’ and years’ worth of eye-squinting pages of microfiche, I was astounded by its level of intelligence and its political and social stances pertaining to New York City, Ireland and England. It was breathtaking to actually see history through the eyes of a real New Yorker back in the day and I tried to infuse that into the pages of my book. A very unique aspect of The Truth Teller was that it also featured notices pertaining to missing people. Sections upon sections were dedicated to it, whispering of stories that the newspaper and its owner thought important.
Scanning through those pages revealed a rich history. Everything was in between those pages, from prices of food to cigars (yes, those nine-cent cigars the mayor smoked) and everything in between. It helped me piece together real information that applied to the world of my characters living in New York City back in 1830.
Though I stretched and rearranged who owned the actual newspaper (because Matthew and his father most certainly didn’t, as they are fictitious characters), the quotes at the beginning of each chapter were snagged straight out of the paper itself. There is a character and a flavor that spoke to me that I wanted to share. Those words would have otherwise been buried in history, since the only known copies of The Truth Teller are sitting in the archives of the New York City Library. Its last printing, before the newspaper folded, was in May 26, 1855.
I wanted to add that the history pertaining to Sing Sing Prison is real. From the warden’s name to the lashings and the code of silence. The only thing that wouldn’t have been allowed is actual visitors. I was astounded to discover that striped uniforms were, in fact, being used back in 1830. For some reason, I always thought that was a 1900s thing. Sadly, prisoners died from severe lashings on a regular basis, and there were other far more gruesome forms of punishment in place, as well. Murderers and mere pickpockets were treated the same. Without anyone watching over the guards, I imagine it was more gruesome than what I had touched on.
For those of you who are curious to know where certain New York City streets have disappeared to, the original streets that made up the Five Points itself back in the 1800s were: Mulberry, Anthony, Orange, Cross and Little Water. Today Orange Street is known as Baxter Street, Anthony Street is Worth Street and Cross Street is Park Street. Little Water no longer exists and Mulberry is the only street that remains from the original Five Points. All the places and streets mentioned in this book, including The Diving Bell, existed.
As you might have guessed, I went through countless newspapers, photos, paintings, books, as well as dozens of maps portraying New York City between the years of 1800–1833. It was the closest I was ever going to get to touching New York City back in the day and I hope you felt like you touched it, too.
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ISBN: 9781459234581
Copyright © 2012 by Delilah Marvelle
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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