Her husband took one of her hands in his, pressed it to his lips and raised his eyes filled with warmth and compassion. “Aggie. Although you don’t need it, you have my permission to take all the time you require. As much as I want fond feelings to blossom between us, we will always remain dear friends. I don’t want to ever lose your friendship. It means the world to me.”
Tears burned her eyes, and she pulled her hand from his and squeezed his arm. “I want that too, Hiram. More than anything, I want that too.”
Hiram smiled. This time it was a genuine smile and his eyes sparkled. “Good. Perhaps this evening, when I return home from my workday, you and I…we…can have tea in the library and can talk about a name for you…our new son or daughter. That is, if you have a mind to.”
A hitch of anxiety stuttered. She wasn’t ready to forget that this child was James’ child, and as much as Hiram wanted to be the guiding force in its life, she wasn’t ready to turn that responsibility over to him. Not yet.
She felt her face heat in embarrassment as she searched for an answer that wouldn’t hurt Hiram’s feelings again this morning. Finally, she muttered, “I would love tea in the library.” It was all she could think of to say.
Aggie knew Hiram picked up on her reservations. After all, the man was a genius at reading people, and she was quite frankly an open book.
But he didn’t say anything. He just smiled at her and nodded. “Well, I should be going.” He again took her hand into his and kissed it gently. “Be well, my dear. Until this evening.”
“Until this evening, Hiram.”
And then he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts. And, so many thoughts there were, all jumbled in a tangled mess of emotions and hopeless despair.
She stared at the closed door for a moment and thought about her feelings. Was she suffering from melancholy again? No, she didn’t think so. She was just plain homesick and she felt the despair deep at all she had lost. She missed James and the home they shared. She missed her parents, and her friends in Savannah. Though few remained. They had all been forced to scatter like leaves upon the wind, much like she’d had to do.
Would she ever be happy again? Could she ever be happy again? Would this place ever truly feel like a home?
She cast a wistful glance around her borrowed room and longed for her own things. This place, although elegant and quite beautiful, belonged to someone else. Hiram’s parents were so gracious and warm and welcoming. And although she would be forever grateful to the couple for opening up their home and sharing their only child with an unhappy broken woman in widow’s weeds carrying a child fathered by a man other than their son, she still wished she could return to Savannah and James, no matter how ungrateful it might appear.
She shook her head, galled by not only her selfishness, but by the ridiculousness of her thoughts. There was no home to go back to. No family. No inherited fortune. Nothing. This was her home now, and she had better learn to make the best of it, or her new life was going to be a very sad existence—for her, her baby, and the man who had gone out of his way to save them both.
Hiram arrived at his and his father’s law practice. They had opened their offices almost five years ago when he had been just twenty-three years old and inexperienced at everything. But, thanks to hard work and his father’s guidance, they had done very well for themselves. It seems he and his father had a knack for sniffing out the truth among their clients. Those that were outright criminals, they declined to represent. Those that were falsely accused were able to find justice behind the Hanover & Hanover Law Offices shingle.
He set his leather case on his desk and unpacked the briefs he had worked on until late last night. His secretary, Jacob Palmer, entered his office.
“Um, Mr. Hanover? Mrs. Pendergast is here to see you. I wasn’t aware you had an appointment with her. I don’t have it down on my calendar,” Jacob whispered to keep the woman in the other room from hearing.
Hiram frowned and flipped through the pages on his own calendar. “I don’t have her down for an appointment today either. Are you certain she isn’t here to see my father?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, sir. She asked to see you. Shall I tell her to come back?”
Hiram shook his head. “No, I’m free for another hour and a half before my first court case this morning. I’ll see what she wants. How much trouble can it be?” Hiram joked. “Send her in.”
“Very well, sir.” Jacob nodded and left his office, closing the door softly behind him.
Hiram cleared his files off his desk and set out a fresh piece of paper. Mrs. Pendergast wasn’t one of his favorite people, but Hiram did respect her husband, Henry. The man had made a fortune in shipping.
A quick tap on the door announced his visitor. Before he could invite her in, the door swung open wide and Mrs. Prudence Pendergast swept into the room as if she were royalty. Hiram was certain she thought of herself as such since she was the wife of one of the richest men in town.
Every member of Boston’s elite knew who Prudence Pendergast was. And everyone with an ounce of good sense was a little bit afraid of the woman. Not one person who wished to remain included in Boston’s society would dare to cross her.
Hiram stood and greeted her with open arms. “Hello, Mrs. Pendergast. What a pleasure to see you again and what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor of your visit this morning? You know my father is out of town on business, so if you had hopes of seeing him this morning—”
“No, I didn’t come to see your father, Hiram. I came to see you.”
He took her two gloved hands in his and bowed over them. “Well then, I am a most fortunate man then,” he did his best to act glad to see her even though he was immediately suspicious of the woman’s purpose.
“Thank you, Hiram. It’s so nice to see you again. How is your mother? Is she well?” She took the seat Hiram offered her and he took his seat on the other side of the desk.
He sensed he was going to need its protection from his unexpected visitor. Once he was settled, he tented his fingers in front of him. “And how is your family? I hope Henry is taking care of that broken leg of his.” Hiram hoped once they were through with the social pleasantries, the woman would get to the purpose of this early morning visit.
Mrs. Pendergast rolled her eyes and shook her head before she spoke. It was obvious the woman was perturbed at her husband’s behavior.
“A man of his age really shouldn’t test the limits of a two-year-old colt. I’ve conveyed those sentiments to my husband loudly and more than once since his ridiculous attempt to break that silly horse.
“I don’t understand the man at all these days. He can easily afford to hire an expert to do the job, but it’s as though he’s going through his second childhood and he has something to prove. Although, what breaking one’s neck on the back of a wild horse would prove I haven’t the faintest idea.” The woman sniffed her disapproval.
“Would you care for some tea? I can have Jacob make you a cup.” Hiram rose and started toward the door when she stopped him.
“No, don’t bother. What I have to say will only take a moment.”
Hiram returned to his chair behind the desk and gave his guest his full attention. “Very well. Please, tell me how I can be of service to you this morning?”
“I have been meaning to speak with you about this matter for some time, Hiram, but...” Prudence’s voice trailed off as if she wasn’t certain how to proceed. That was a rare event indeed for this woman. She approached everything with the tenacity of a stray mutt sniffing out a bone.
Experience had taught him to remain quiet and wait.
“The fact of the matter is, Hiram, I’ve wanted to come by your home and meet your new wife. After all, it’s been three months since she arrived in Boston. I’ve sent several invitations to her and your mother hoping to make your wife feel welcome here in Boston. You can imagine how surprised I was to have them declined. Every single one of them. And, without any expl
anation whatsoever. Is there something I should know about this new wife of yours?”
He could tell Prudence Pendergast was very disturbed at what she considered a snub by Aggie. But it wasn’t that at all.
“Mrs. Pendergast—” he started.
“Please, Hiram. Call me Prudence. Mrs. Pendergast makes me think of Henry’s mother and since she’s such a difficult woman to bear, I’d rather not have to bear the name too.”
Hiram had no intention of informing the woman sitting across from him that most people found her as difficult, if not more so than her mother-in-law. Instead, he did as she asked.
“Very well. Prudence. I can see where you would get the impression that my wife’s refusals of your very generous invitations were a social slight, but I can assure you—”
“She did refuse them, Hiram. All five of them. And that is most definitely a social slight where I come from and quite unheard of in this town. Especially when you refuse my invitations.” Prudence’s nose rose in the air with each word she uttered. He had to tread carefully in explaining why Aggie refused the woman’s invitations without giving away too much of the truth. For if he did, it would be all over Boston by sunset.
“Yes, I know that she declined. But not just yours, Prudence. Everyone in Boston has been so generous and welcoming of Aggie. Why, there have been numerous invitations to balls, upcoming summer garden parties, a number of—”
He caught sight of Prudence’s indignation and hastily corrected his approach. “Of course, none of the other invitations held the same social weight as yours, Prudence, but my point is that Aggie isn’t singling you out in her refusals. She has refused all invitations.
“My wife knows how privileged she is to garner such an honor from you. She truly does. It’s just that…
He didn’t want to tell the biggest gossip of Boston the true nature of Aggie’s self-imposed isolation.
“Then what is it? Is she ill?”
Hiram jumped at the woman’s assumption. “Yes, she is ill.”
“Is she going to be alright? Is this a chronic thing she suffers from? It must be chronic since she’s rejected my invitations for the last three months. Tell me, what is it that ails your wife?”
Prudence scooted to the edge of her chair and sent him a look that demanded more information. He hesitated in hopes he could think of a way to distract the persistent woman, but he knew he would lose this battle. As good as he was at arguing with the sharpest legal minds in Boston, he couldn’t keep Mrs. Prudence Pendergast at bay when she had her mind made up to have her way.
“Well...” he hedged. He had hoped to keep Aggie hidden at home until the baby came, but now that was going to be impossible with Prudence sniffing about like a hound dog on the hunt for unsuspecting prey.
“Hiram, I expect an explanation as to why your wife has gone out of her way to snub my invitations and I expect to get an answer. Is she ill or isn’t she?”
“Yes, my wife is…ill, Prudence.”
“Yes, you’ve said that. But what is wrong with the poor woman that she has been ill for months? What doctor is she seeing? Perhaps I can recommend someone who is more experienced in whatever it is that ails her.”
“She’s seeing Dr. Davenport,” Hiram offered, hoping the mention of the most sought-after doctor in Boston would slow the woman’s momentum.
“Ah, well you can’t do better than Dr. Davenport. And I’m sure you are aware that his wife and I are very good friends.” It was apparent the woman was not above name-dropping or using friends to get the information she wanted.
Hiram knew where this was going. It would merely be a matter of an afternoon tea before Prudence learned everything she needed to about Aggie’s condition. He knew Dr. Davenport wouldn’t disclose patient information to his wife intentionally, but his much younger wife was known to extract information through her wifely duties. At least, that’s what his mother had reported on more than one occasion.
“There’s no need to involve Mrs. Davenport. Aggie simply has a weak constitution at present, but I’m sure in a few months, she will return to herself, and be as right as—”
“In a few months? How can you know that, Hiram? The only condition I know where a woman can predict the time of her confinement’s end is if she is with child. Are you saying your new wife is already expecting?” Prudence’s eyes were nearly popping out of her head at the news.
How on earth had the woman correctly guessed Aggie’s condition by a few benign words? He would have to choose his words more carefully where this woman was concerned.
“Is that so hard to believe, Prudence? We are married and we have been married for quite some time—”
“I hardly call three months quite some time, but I suppose it is long enough to get with child, unless…”
The woman’s sly look told Hiram he had let the cat out of the bag. He remained quiet for fear of letting some other tidbit of information slip out of his mouth that the Barracuda of Boston could sink her teeth into.
“I heard around town that your wife was a widow. She was married before? Tell me the truth, Hiram, is that why you married someone so unsuitable for you? Was she in the family way? That would certainly explain a lot.” The woman sat back and preened like the cat who ate the canary.
“Prudence, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t say that around town. I’ve known Agnes Bohanan for a very long time. We’ve been friends for many years. I care very deeply for her.”
“Friends? One doesn’t usually marry a friend unless it’s a business arrangement…or your friend is in trouble. Is that it?” Prudence was sitting on the edge of her seat waiting for Hiram to spill the least bit of information she could turn into gossip. “Was she in trouble? Did she get with child after her husband died?”
Hiram set up straighter in his seat and infused a bit of steel into his tone, “That is not the case at all. Aggie’s husband was killed right after they found out they were expecting a child. And the three of us were the very best of friends.” He hoped his version of the truth would temper the woman’s morbid curiosity, otherwise, he feared his temper might soon be on display and that would certainly give her more ammunition to use against his wife.
“Ah, so your marriage to this Bohanan woman is an altruistic move on your part. Well, that certainly makes sense. After all the respectable young woman I’ve tried to place in your path without success, I can see how your kind nature would stoop to help someone less fortunate in need. But really Hiram, how long can this marriage last? Do you plan to send her on her way when the baby comes?”
The persistence and pomposity of the woman was beginning to rankle his nerves. While it is true she had tried on more than one occasion to match Hiram with a young woman of her choosing, he had simply not been interested. She had been quite put out when he refused to follow her matrimonial matchmaking advice.
“Hiram. Listen to me. You had every eligible woman in Boston chasing after you, most of whom have sizable fortunes of their own. It was puzzling to everyone when you returned from your trip down south with a rebel bride no one knew anything about. But now that I know the reasons behind your marriage, I will spread the word to all the eligible young ladies not to give up hope.”
Hiram wanted to boot this pretentious woman out of his office on her ass, but he knew if he did there would be dire consequences for his wife when she did finally join society. Let Prudence think what she wanted if that would get her to leave Aggie alone because one didn’t best Prudence Pendergast without some sort of retaliation from the overbearing biddy.
He took a deep breath to reign in his temper. When he was satisfied he could speak without berating the woman, he tried again to dissuade her from spreading poison about his wife.
“Prudence, please understand that any stress on Aggie right now could be harmful to her and the baby. Let’s just keep this little secret between ourselves, shall we?” Hiram left the protection of his massive desk and paced the confines of his office while he tried to c
onvince the biggest gossip in town to keep her lips firmly closed. “Agnus Bohanan is a gentlewoman. She was raised in a loving family with every comfort a person could dream of. She had doting parents, a beautiful home, loyal friends—I, myself, among them—and a devoted husband. Her husband was killed through no fault of his own. He was simply in the wrong place at an inopportune moment in time. He was murdered and his home, Aggie’s home, was burned to the ground along with their crops and everything they owned. In the blink of an eye, everything Aggie held dear was ripped from her. Can you imagine that sort of loss, Prudence?”
He could see the woman was empathetic. “That would be a devastating loss to be sure,” she admitted.
“She and her husband held no position in that despicable war. They thought they could remain neutral, but obviously that plan was not to succeed.”
“And how did you come to know these people?” Prudence turned in her chair and followed Hiram’s pacing.
“My father and I have made many trips to Savannah. We represented landowners buying and selling tracts of land, we brokered trade deals, and had many other business dealings there. It was on one of those trips that I had the pleasure of meeting Aggie. She was the most beautiful and graceful woman I had ever seen.”
“You said she had a husband. Was she married then?”
“No. Not then, but soon after. And for the last five years, the three of us have remained friends. Very good friends. Loyal friends. Her husband, James, was an honorable man and his loss was devastating to all who knew him.”
“So how did you decide to hurry down south to save Mrs. Bohanan? Did she write and beg you to come save her?” Prudence’s comment was again setting his temper on edge.
“No, she did not, Prudence. That is not something Aggie would do. When I heard Savannah was no longer safe, I knew I would never forgive myself if I left Aggie alone to fend for herself and her unborn child. I was relieved, no—I was overjoyed when she accepted my offer of marriage.” He wanted to add that she wasn’t in love with him now, and yet he had hopes that she would someday. But that would reveal too much, and he knew he couldn’t trust this woman with that kind of information.
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