More produce went flying, and the crowd began to press forward, as if they were going to attack the man. Men were yelling accusations, while women protested that their treatment was far worse than that of slaves.
“This country worries about freeing the Negroes,” a woman shouted above the others, “but you treat your women even worse!”
This set the crowd into an impossible frenzy. Mia moved away as quickly as she could but tripped and fell when someone rushing forward stepped on her limp skirt. She felt the cobblestones bite into her knees, but that pain didn’t compare to the overwhelming fear that she might not get back up without being trampled first.
“Stop!” she called out, attempting to rise against the weight of the bodies that poured out around her. “Let me up!” But no one seemed to hear her panicked cries.
CHAPTER 17
Garrett watched in frantic silence as Mia disappeared in the crowd. He knew she’d fallen, and he pushed people aside in his attempt to reach her, uncaring as to whether they were young or old, male or female.
“Mia!” he called, hoping she might hear him. “Mia!”
The crowd was ready to riot. He could feel it—sense the danger in a way he’d never before experienced. It made his skin crawl and his stomach churn.
As Garrett approached the place where he’d seen Mia fall, the crowd seemed to part. One angry woman kicked at Mia as if to rid herself of an obstacle. Garrett took hold of the woman and pushed her aside.
“Mia!” He reached for her and pulled her up into his arms so he was cradling her like a child.
“Where did you come from?” she gasped.
“We’ll talk later. After we get out of this mess.”
He held her close, refusing to put her down lest she fall again. They weren’t far from a side street, but the crowds were pressing forward to stone their accusers with words, if not rocks. The words and attitudes were ugly, but poverty often did that to a person. There was no time for formalities and niceties when your belly was swollen in hunger and your children were dying for lack of proper care.
He reached the side street and felt a sensation of relief. He looked to Mia, who continued to stare up at him in complete amazement. He wanted to spank her and to kiss her all at the same time. How in the world could he bear such a woman?
“Are we safe?” she asked.
Garrett continued walking away from the rally but nodded. “I think so.”
“Then put me down. This is hardly appropriate.”
He laughed in a harsh tone and dropped her unceremoniously to her feet. “Do not speak to me of what is appropriate. Propriety does not allow for a woman of your class and position to be dressed like a common laborer, wandering through a vindictive crowd, at a rally that has nothing to do with you. What in the world possessed you to come here, Mia? Have you lied to us all and taken back your position for Godey’s?”
“I do not work for Godey’s, nor am I given to lying.” She dusted off her skirt and appeared to be checking herself for damage. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I . . . I just felt this was something I had to do.” She marched off down the street without waiting for his response.
Garrett easily caught up with her and whirled her around to face him. “You could have been killed back there, and you have the audacity to be angry with me for my concern?”
“You have no right to accuse me.”
“I promised your father I would look after you. That gives me every right.”
Mia’s blue eyes narrowed as she set her face in a look that Garrett knew suggested she was ready to stand her ground. “Ever the vigilant big brother,” she retorted. “I thank you for your help in getting me out of that crowd, but I will not be insulted or accused of things I have not done.”
Garrett hated it when she referenced him as a brother. His feelings toward her were anything but brotherly—and hadn’t been for some time. At moments like this he wanted to kiss her long and passionately and see if she still thought of him as nothing more than a sibling. But instead, he held back.
Mia began to walk and Garrett put aside his thoughts and focused on matching her strides, knowing without being told that she was heading back to the church. For several blocks they said nothing, but as Mia approached her carriage, Garrett felt his anger stir again.
“I am not your brother, nor have I any desire to be. Frankly, I would not have such an unruly sister. Honestly, Agnes and Bliss behave more honorably than you do.”
Mia stopped and turned abruptly. “How can you stand there insulting me when people are suffering? Have you ever known concern for their welfare? You live in luxury and enjoy the fruits of their labors. How can you ignore their plight? How can you allow children to be killed in factories without protesting the matter for yourself?”
“Now who’s accusing?”
Mia shook her head. “But something should be done. There are so many and they . . . they . . . have so little.” Tears trickled onto her cheeks. “A woman told me her son died in the factory where they both worked. He was only twelve. Why are little boys even working, much less dying in factories?”
Garrett stepped forward, then stopped himself. He longed to take her in his arms, for he knew her sorrow was genuine— knew her concern reached deep into the very heart of who she was. “Mia, I hate it too. I long to see life for those people made better. I am doing what I can to see changes and to influence responsible people to right these wrongs.”
“I listened to those men talk—men who might well share the same social clubs and parties as my own father. They are heartless. They threaten and chide the people for their complaints. They tell them how good they have it, without ever having experienced that life for themselves. How would they ever exist in such deprivation—without their butlers and fine wines?”
“Still, we who are of the privileged class owe it to those less fortunate to try and influence such men. If they are truly in our company, then it should also be said that they are in our circle of influence. Perhaps by bringing up such topics at our dinners and parties, we can also help to remake the society of those less wealthy. Maybe we can actually give them a better life.”
“How, Garrett? How will dinner chats change the lives of those who haven’t enough food? How will your party conversation bring back the life of that woman’s son?”
“Of course nothing will bring him back,” he said sadly, “but perhaps we can prevent others from following suit. You must realize that when good men gather, they try quite seriously to consider the needs of their community. Approval is still sought among our numbers. No one wants to be considered an unfeeling tyrant.
“I took note of those men—those speakers,” Garrett continued. “I know some of them. In conversing with men like your father and others who are trustworthy, we can hope to influence those who addressed the crowd today. A social ostracizing is not something any man would willingly set out to gain. If they come to realize that their treatment of workers is unacceptable in their community—among their peers—they will change. Begrudgingly, of course, and maybe not to the full degree we would like, but they will offer something to appease society.”
Mia sighed and moved to unhitch the horse. “It shouldn’t have to be that way, Garrett. Why could they not just care on their own? Why should a risk posed to their social standing be the only influence for change?”
He laughed. “Why indeed? However, isn’t it better to accomplish change, even at the threat of something so frivolous? We can work on their hearts—toil to see them enlightened—but in the meanwhile people will die, as you pointed out. Better to force change as soon as possible.”
He helped her into the buggy and climbed up beside her. He noted her surprise as he reached for the reins. “I’ve followed you on foot ever since you left Godey’s. I’m tired and wish to ride home with you.”
“You followed me from Godey’s?”
He drew a deep breath and nodded. “Why were you there?”
Mia looked away as
she twisted her gloved hands together. “I wasn’t reinstating my position, if that’s what you think.”
“So why were you there?”
“Mrs. Hale is a friend. She asked me to visit her, and I did.”
“And you won’t say anything more on the subject?” Garrett slapped the reins on the back of the horse and directed him onto the road.
“Why should I?” Mia kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.
“I thought we were friends, Mia. Don’t you trust me enough to tell me more?”
“Garrett, you returned from Boston in a mood that can only be described as secretive and harsh. You had no desire to speak to me of what troubled you.”
“It was business,” Garrett replied. He couldn’t very well tell her what he’d learned about Jasper Barrill without exposing the fact that he was investigating the man’s past. Barrill’s reputation in Boston was not one any man would desire. He had faced legal charges for a variety of offenses yet had managed to slip away before anyone could prosecute him and see him behind bars.
“And I would not care about your business? Who has sat with you in the past to listen for hours on end about your searches for the perfect china or crystal to import? Who has diligently contemplated your concerns over various customs and import taxes and legal issues? I have shown you by practice my interest in all that you do, yet you choose now to conceal such matters from me?”
“It’s nothing that I can share at this point, though perhaps in time.”
“Then perhaps in time I can tell you why I was visiting Mrs. Hale,” she said in a clipped tone.
Garrett sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you, Mia. Why can’t you understand that I care what happens to you? I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Sometimes pain is a very real part of life. I listened to those women at the rally and could see the misery in their eyes. They don’t have enough to eat; they’re exhausted from long hours spent laboring at dangerous jobs. They are dying young, never having really lived at all.”
“I know,” he whispered.
“I can’t turn my back on them, Garrett. Please do not ask me to. I’m twenty-four years old and have lived a life of comfort and privilege. I think it’s about time I gave something back—that’s why the plight of the seamen’s wives is so important to me. If I risk my comfort, even my very life, then perhaps it is the price that is to be paid. Jesus said, ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ I care for those women. I care for their children. How can I not risk my safety for them? Would you ask those helping slaves to escape their horrors to not risk their lives? Surely it’s only in risking what we hold most dear that we actually accomplish something of value.”
She paused for a moment and turned to look at him. “I cannot live my life and do nothing. I cannot sit in my beautiful house, planning dinner parties and teas, while I know those women and their children are being oppressed. Surely God calls me to do more. You should know this better than most. After all, Mercy said you were considering going west to preach to people on the frontier.”
“Well, I don’t know that I would make a very good preacher, but it’s true I’ve contemplated it. I’ve been studying the Bible with a friend and . . . well, frankly, the words have come to life for me. It’s so much more than I used to understand.”
“What do you mean?”
Garrett slowed the horse. “I suppose I mean that rather than simply finding church and prayer to be something of an obligation or routine, it’s now something I desire—look forward to. The same with reading the Bible. As a boy, my father started reading it after breakfast with his father. He kept that tradition with me and I always enjoyed it, but not so much for the words as the companionship with my parents. I have to admit there were many times I scarcely listened.”
“I have been guilty of that myself. My father too likes to share Bible readings in the morning. I hate to admit it, but short of the readings done at our table, I have hardly picked up the Bible.”
Garrett nodded. “It’s easy to be complacent. After all, I do not challenge that the Bible is truth—the pastor speaks from it each Sunday and I believe his message to be valid and significant. Still, as I began to study with my friend Benjamin, I experienced a change. The words no longer seemed to be something stated long ago for unknown peoples. They came alive for me. They held meaning for me. When Jesus spoke to His disciples, it seemed as if He were telling those things directly to me.”
Mia said nothing for several minutes. “I think that would be a very nice blessing,” she finally said. “I would like to experience that myself.”
“Perhaps we can read together. I can explain to you the things Benjamin has explained to me.”
“I think I’d like that.”
They approached Mia’s house and Garrett directed the buggy around to the back. “I’ll need to arrange for someone to retrieve my horse,” he told her. “I left him tied up near Godey’s.”
“We can send Jason to do that. I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll be stunned to see me dressed like this, but otherwise, he won’t care because you’re here with me.”
“He may be rather upset when I tell him not to allow you to drive out on your own again,” Garrett replied, knowing his statement would not be eagerly received.
To his surprise, however, Mia said nothing. She allowed him to help her from the carriage and then stepped to the back to retrieve her bundle of good clothes.
“Miss Mia, what happened to you?” Jason questioned.
“Nothing. I was doing some work,” she said. “And now I must change.”
Garrett watched her walk away, then turned to Jason. “I left my horse at Third and Chestnut. I’d appreciate it if you would go retrieve him.”
“Is it the black, sir?”
Garrett nodded. “And, Jason, from now on, Miss Stanley should not be allowed to drive on her own. There are too many dangers and she is far too frivolous with her safety.”
“Did she get hurt?”
Garrett could see that the young man was quite upset. “More frightened than hurt, but it could have been bad. We must look after her, especially if she won’t look after herself.”
“I’ll be certain to go with her next time.”
“Thank you.”
Mia hurried up the back stairs of the house and went to her bedroom. Rather than go next door and frighten Mercy and the others by appearing in her raggedy clothes, Mia thought it best to change in the privacy of her own home.
Ruth appeared quickly and frowned. “I’ve never seen you do this in broad daylight.”
“That’s because I never have before now. Help me get cleaned up and changed. It’s well past teatime, and I’m certain to be expected for supper before long.”
She thought of what Garrett had said about restricting her driving out alone. It seemed so unfair that a woman couldn’t arrange her own life. At twenty-four it should be perfectly acceptable and safe for a woman to see to herself. Why, she should even be able to live alone if she so chose. But only women of ill repute or perhaps widows would even consider that idea. Mia and her friends had been graciously raised to live in the wealthy palaces of their fathers and then move on to the equally luxurious estates of their husbands. They needn’t think for themselves, nor worry about their futures. It was a gentle and wonderful tradition that would see them well cared for and protected.
“But that comes only for a select few whose bank accounts allow for such privilege,” Mia murmured.
“What was that, Miss Mia?” Ruth asked as she brought an evening gown for Mia to wear.
“Nothing that matters to anyone but me,” she replied. “Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER 18
With Garrett’s permission, Mia spent the last Saturday in August working with Pastor Brunswick to put together boxes of food for the poor. The entire church had been encouraged to donate food items or money, and the response had been quite good. Mia felt that at least this was som
e little thing she could do to better the lives of the poor women she’d met.
Garrett had been willing to let Mia donate her time, so long as she promised him that she would remain at the church and go nowhere else. Reluctantly she had agreed, knowing he would most likely have her watched no matter her answer. She tried to tell herself it was because he was a good friend and cared so much for her, but she felt like a helpless child. There had to be a way to keep Garrett from knowing every move she made. There had to be a way to regain her liberty.
All I want to do is see these people have a better life. I know I can’t change everything, but if my writing or Mrs. Hale’s editorials and influence can make those in power take notice, why shouldn’t we try? She sighed and put a small bag of sugar into the nearest wooden box.
“Pastor Brunswick, why does God allow so much poverty?” She looked to the older man and could see a smile play on his lips.
“Why does God allow anything? Why does He allow you to live in wealth? Why does He allow smallpox epidemics like the one we’ve seen this summer? Why does He let the rain fall on the just and the unjust?”
Mia frowned. “Exactly. He’s God, after all, and He could keep bad things at bay. I don’t understand why such hideous things go on and on. When I was at the laborers’ rally, I was amazed at the things I heard. There are entire families who work at the same factory just to keep a roof over their heads. They rarely even see each other. How is that fair or right?”
“But, Mia,” he began, “you cannot know all of the circumstances. I would rather that children and mothers never worked. I would prefer to see children in school. There should be ways to protect them—there are laws, after all, but not always the means to enforce those laws. Still, each family has chosen to confront their ordeals as they see fit. I do not always approve, but I honor their right to choose. God honors it as well. God does not force His way upon us, but instead asks us to willingly come—to yield to His authority, even at times like this when the meaning of circumstances seems to elude us.”
A Lady of High Regard Page 16
