“Nineteen is much too young for me, accomplished or not.”
Mia could see he would need some help in being convinced. “Garrett, there are a great many women who marry much older men. Why, Lydia Frankfort is marrying a man fifteen years her senior—and he has two children.”
“That may be good for Miss Frankfort, but it’s not for me.”
“I’m not suggesting you go to the Brighton dinner and propose. I simply want to introduce you properly and give you time to get to know one another. You’ll never know if love is a possibility unless you get to know someone.”
Garrett frowned as he looked away. “I’ll allow the introduction, but please do not ask anything more of me. I’d just as soon spend my time with you.”
Mia thought that rather sad. Garrett Wilson was possibly the most eligible bachelor in all of Philadelphia, yet he seemed completely uninterested in finding a wife. She studied him for a moment. His dark hair had fallen over his left eye, begging to be pushed back, but otherwise he seemed perfectly ordered. His coat fit him like a glove, and he always looked handsome no matter the setting. Garrett was possibly the most intelligent man she’d ever known. He could easily converse about political or economical issues, then turn less serious and discuss art and furnishings. Any woman would find him quite companionable. If only Mia could get Garrett to understand.
After several minute of silence, Mia decided to drop the topic. So long as Garrett showed up at the dinner, she would manage the rest.
That night Mia once again dressed carefully in old clothes. She did her best to hide any appearance of her elite way of life, knowing it would only hinder her chance to gain the confidence of the woman she was to meet at the church.
Deborah Denning was a woman in her late twenties. She had at least four children that Mia knew of, and she was married to a sailor. Word had come to her from Mrs. Smith that the woman was willing to talk to Mia about the unbearable situation in the seamen’s tenement.
Mia listened carefully at the door to ensure that the house was quiet. Her parents’ room was at the end of the opposite wing, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hear a pin drop if they thought there was a need. She eased the door back and took a deep breath.
There was always an element of fear whenever she made these late night treks. Yet Mia felt compelled to continue her search, for surely God honored her desire to expose the wrong being done His children. Even Pastor Brunswick had spoken the Sunday before on the need to reach out to one’s neighbors and fellow man. Mia took that to include her trips to help the very poor.
Mia also felt emboldened by Sarah Hale, who encouraged Mia to continue her research. She had taken all of the information Mia gathered and promised to have it investigated privately. She assured Mia that they would battle the evil that besought these poor souls.
Slipping out the back French doors, Mia paused and drew a deep breath. She knew her father would never approve of her plans, and that troubled her deeply. In her heart she had only the best intentions and certainly did not desire to hurt her parents. “Please watch over me, Lord. I’m not trying to dishonor my father; I merely want to help the women and children who are suffering. Help me to expose the guilty parties and put an end to this misery.”
The night air was heavy. Although the sun had long since set, the evening was still very warm and threatened rain again. Mia felt uncomfortable under the weight of her shawl, but knew she had no other choice. The folds of material hid her slender womanly frame.
She hurried from the safety of her own neighborhood, slinking in and out of the shadows, praying for protection. She knew the walk was dangerous, but there was no hope of a rendezvous in broad daylight. These women were risking their lives by trying to expose the truth. With no laws or public interest, these poor souls were consumed by hopelessness.
Two more blocks, she told herself in a reassuring manner. It began to sprinkle, but Mia chose to ignore it. Rain was the least of her worries. Hiking her skirts, she lengthened her stride.
The old Methodist church loomed before her in the darkened shadows of the night. She felt a certain peace in the welcoming sight. Breathing easier, Mia hurried inside and discarded the shawl. She immediately noticed a woman cowering in the front pew, a baby in her arms and three other small children clinging to her skirts.
“Mrs. Denning?” she asked as she moved to join her. “I am Mia Stanley.”
The woman looked hesitantly over her shoulder. “Pleased to meet you, miss.”
Mia looked at the grubby children. One was clearly a little girl. The child’s long dirty hair was matted against her head. Her dress was three sizes too big, but someone had tied a piece of twine around the child’s waist to pull it together. The other two appeared to be boys. They were equally dirty and wore ill-fitting clothing. All of them smelled as if they’d not had a bath in months.
“I’m so glad you came,” Mia said, taking a seat beside the woman. She ignored the woman’s stench and smiled. “Did you have a difficult time getting here?”
“No, but I was afeared the landlord would see me going out.”
“Why should that be a problem?” Mia questioned.
The woman grew uneasy. “I owe him money. He might think I was trying to leave without payin’ him.”
Mia nodded. “I understand. Tell me about your situation. Mrs. Smith mentioned that your husband is gone to sea.”
“Sure he is. He’s gone most of the year. Comes home only long enough to get us deeper in debt and to put another babe in my belly.”
Mia tried not to react to the woman’s crude talk. Her time with the sailors’ wives had been an education in the cultural differences that separated them. Walnut Street and the waterfront might as well have been a million miles apart from each other.
“What kind of debt does he accumulate?” Mia asked.
“Anything he can. He drinks plenty and when he comes home with his pay, he usually stays gone in the tavern for days. I’m lucky those times what he comes home first. Then I get some money for the rent and for food.” The baby began to fuss and the woman quickly opened her blouse and put the baby to her breast.
Mia was momentarily taken aback. The woman noticed her surprise. “Ain’t ya seen a woman nurse her child?”
“Actually, no,” Mia admitted. “I suppose it’s not something done in such a public way among my friends and family.”
“Ain’t public here. Just you and me. We bein’ womenfolk, I didn’t figure it a problem.”
Mia drew a deep breath. “Of course it’s not a problem. Your baby is hungry and it’s only natural she should eat.”
“He. It’s another boy. Maybelle here is the only girl child I have.”
“Are these all of your children?”
“No. I got me two other boys, but my husband got ’em work on the ships.”
Mia shook her head. “How old are they?”
“Thomas is nine and Robert is eleven. I ain’t seen ’em in nearly a year.”
Mia couldn’t begin to imagine having her children given over to the service of a ship at such a tender age. “It must be very hard to be without them.”
The woman shrugged. “They was two more mouths to feed. I cain’t say they would have been better off here. At least on the ship they’ll be fed regular-like.”
Mia could hardly bear it. “Tell me what problems you’ve encountered lately.”
“I told Elsie that I’d talk to you, but you cain’t tell anyone about this. You cain’t tell ’em my name.”
“Of course I won’t reveal your name. Let me tell you about what I’m doing. I work for a ladies magazine—Godey’s Lady’s Book. The lady editor there is Mrs. Sarah Hale. She cares very much about the plight of the seamen’s wives. She’s heard about the oppression put upon them to pay debts left behind by dead husbands or those who’ve gone to sea.”
“Does she know about the way some of them that’s owed come after us women for special attention?”
“Special atten
tion?” Mia was uncertain what the woman was talking about.
“They expect to know us more intimately. They sometimes force themselves on us.”
Mia refrained from shuddering and nodded. “I had heard that this was a problem. Is it common?”
“Common enough. There’s one man in particular who . . .”
She fell silent and shook her head. “I cain’t talk about it.”
“What else can you tell me?”
The children were growing restless and pulling at the woman’s skirts. “Mama, can we go now? I’m hungry.”
“Cain’t go yet. You just sit down there on the floor and be quiet. Ain’t nothing to eat nohow.”
The children looked at Mia as though she were to blame. She immediately felt guilty and wished she’d thought to bring some kind of treat for them.
“I guess I’m lucky they haven’t been taken from me yet. There’s some of the women’s whose children are gone—payment for what they couldn’t manage.”
“Wait—are you trying to tell me that children are taken and sold to pay off the debts?”
“That’s right. I’ve been hiding my little ones. Glad the older boys are already workin’ at sea.”
“But it isn’t legal to take those children. I don’t understand. Who’s doing this?”
The woman seemed frightened by Mia’s reaction. “It’s getting late. I should be getting back.”
“Can’t you tell me who’s doing this?”
“I cain’t. If they was to find out I was the one—well, there’d be more trouble than I’d want to have. Just know that there ain’t a one of us who don’t live in fear.”
Mia sat back and shook her head. How could she help these people if they wouldn’t open up to her and give her the details she needed? “Can you at least tell me where you live?”
The woman shifted her now sleeping baby and did up the buttons on her blouse. “I s’pose it won’t do no harm.” She gave Mia the address and got to her feet. “Come on, young’uns.”
Mia wanted to walk with the woman—to promise her that there would be better days ahead. She stood and watched as the woman gathered her flock and started for the door.
“Wait. I have something for you.” Mia remembered the few coins in her pocket. “Here. I want you to have this.” She handed the coins to Mrs. Denning.
“I cain’t take that.”
“Of course you can. I always try to pay for information. It isn’t always possible, but tonight it is.”
The woman looked at the coins for a long minute, then took them and nodded. “We ain’t got any food. Ain’t had any for days. This’ll buy a feast.” She turned and hurried her children out the door before Mia could say another word.
“Are we gonna eat, Mama?” one of the boys asked.
“I reckon we will,” she told him before pulling them out into the night.
Mia sighed. She’d parted with less money than she had often spent on ribbons, and the realization of their desperate situation made her ache. I don’t know how to help them, Lord, she prayed. There’s so much to be done and I feel so insignificant. Mia pulled on her shawl and made her way outside.
The darkness had deepened and she picked up her pace. At least the rain had stopped, but in its place there was a feeling in the air that made her uneasy. She felt almost as if she were being watched. Tripping over a rough spot, Mia straightened and grabbed her skirt with both hands. It was a completely unacceptable manner in which to walk. A lady was always taught to hold her skirt gracefully with one hand—preferably the right. To hold one’s skirts with both hands was to suggest less than decent breeding. The only time Mia had ever seen it be considered acceptable was when the mud was truly bad.
She rounded the corner and slowed only the tiniest bit. She was less than three blocks from home, but her corsets were preventing her from drawing a deep breath and the heaviness of the night air seemed to drop upon her shoulders like a wet blanket.
What a wretched night. Mia thought again of the poor Denning woman and her children. They had so little and she had so much. There had to be a way to make things better for them.
When I get home, I’ll try to—
The thought went unfinished. Without warning someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her backward. Mia tried to scream, but her mouth was quickly covered.
CHAPTER 6
“Mia. It’s me. Stop screaming. Stop fighting me.”
She didn’t recognize the voice at first, but by the time Garrett repeated his words, she stilled and fell against him. Gasping for air, Mia grew light-headed. “I . . . I . . . think I might faint.”
He turned her in his arms and lifted her. “Just relax and breathe deeply.”
Mia chuckled as she fought to remain conscious. “I can’t . . . draw breath . . . that’s the problem.”
“If you weren’t so tightly corseted, you could breathe,” he countered. “Honestly, why you women wear such contraptions is beyond me.”
“You aren’t . . . supposed to know . . . about such things— much less . . . speak of them,” she said, halting to draw air.
Garrett shook his head and began walking. “I know about a great many things. What I don’t understand, but mean to, is why you have been making these late-night walks.”
Mia felt her breathing even and suddenly became aware that Garrett was holding her—carrying her. “Put me down,” she demanded. She felt safe and warm in his arms, but at the same time there was something else. Something she didn’t understand, and it disturbed her a great deal.
“Are you sure you won’t faint?”
“I’m quite all right—just put me down.”
“And you’ll tell me why you’re out here?”
Mia looked into Garrett’s face. She couldn’t see any detail, but she felt his warm breath against her cheek. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself. People’s lives are at stake.”
“Yours, for one. I could have been a robber or something worse.” He gently put Mia back down and held onto her as she steadied herself.
“You could have been a great many things.” She took hold of his offered arm. “I’m glad, however, that you are simply you—my friend and confidant.”
“So tell me what was so important that you went to church when there is no service or other event going on?”
“I went there to meet a woman. She’s one of the seamen’s wives who lives down near the docks.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you want to meet with someone like that?”
“There are things happening to these women, and I intend to see it stopped. We were gathered one day in Mrs. Hale’s office talking about it. There are several of us who work to bring her stories and publishable pieces. She told us of trouble she’d seen for the seamen’s wives in Boston. She’s working to get Congress to make a law of protection for those women. It caused me to think that some of the same problems were going on here. After all, the river traffic on the Delaware goes out to sea and some of those men are gone for years at a time. Why should Philadelphia be any different than Boston?”
“And what did you find?”
“Something is happening that is most distasteful. I’m not at all sure how to help or how to eliminate the problem.”
“What exactly is the problem?” Garrett tightened his grip on her elbow as they approached Mia’s house. “Tell me, or I won’t let you go.”
She laughed. “Shall you make me stand out here all night?”
“If need be. Mia, this is serious. You could have been killed tonight.”
“It is serious, Garrett. Some of those women are being forced to pay money on debts left behind by their husbands. They can barely earn enough money to buy food and pay rent. Some of them are being forced to . . . well . . . to provide other means of payment—including offering themselves or their children to their debtors.”
Garrett turned her to face him, his fingers digging into her shoulders. “Mia, you need to stay out of this
. You cannot be involved in this problem any longer. A situation like this could well see you being forced to do unspeakable things.”
“But someone has to help them. I cannot stand idly by, knowing this is going on in my community.”
“But that isn’t your community. That’s the docks, and those people are not like you.”
“What a snobbish thing to say. They are God’s children, the same as you or I.”
Garrett let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course they are, and I didn’t mean to imply that they weren’t. I don’t even mean to imply they are of a lesser value than we are.”
“Then what are you saying?” she asked, frustrated.
“You are a young woman of good breeding. You are from one of the better families in Philadelphia. Your life here has not prepared you for what they endure. Mia, they have so little, and I know you. You will fret and fuss over how to save them—how to bring them all up to a comfortable standard. But it cannot be done.”
“Why not? Surely there is a way to give them a better life. At least there must be a way to end this tyranny of injustice. We are from a better social class of people; therefore it should be our responsibility to see them fed and properly clothed. To help them have the bare necessities of life.”
“Mia, the poor will always be with us. We cannot make their lives rosy and well ordered.”
“Well, we certainly can’t if we won’t even try, Mr. Wilson.” She jerked away from his hold. “I cannot believe that someone who appears as compassionate and caring as you would begrudge those women a champion. You would strip away all hope they have.”
“Only if that hope is you, Mia. I don’t want to see you hurt in this. This isn’t an affair for a woman to handle.”
“It’s an affair that we should all take into consideration. There is much to be done and too few who recognize the need. I’m disappointed in you, Garrett Wilson. I am angry too and do not wish to further discuss this issue.”
She hurried up the walk to the garden and passed through the gate before Garrett could say another word. He sounded like the same obstinate people Mrs. Hale had come up against in Boston and elsewhere.
A Lady of High Regard Page 5
