Breakwater Beach (21 page)

Bethea cried out.

Elisabeth held her hand. She heard Clement come in, but couldn’t make out what he and his wife were saying.

Addie returned with a steaming black kettle, cloth strips, and a knife. “Doctor Fergus is not home, and Mrs. Wilfred is on another call. We’ll have to do this ourselves, Elisabeth.”

She pushed memories of Wilhemina Howell from her mind. Bethea squeezed her hand so tight the thin gold wedding band Elisabeth hadn’t yet taken off dug into the flesh between her fingers. Addie folded back the sheets and looked between Bethea’s thighs. A mound of black hair protruded. Addie placed her hands on the head as Bethea bore down. A blue face emerged. One second later, the rest of the baby’s body tumbled into a pool of blood on the bed. The baby grimaced and gave a gurgling cry.

Elisabeth held her breath while Addie lifted the baby and wiped its face and body. Bethea reached out. Addie placed the now squalling infant on her chest, tied the cloth strips around the pulsing coil protruding from his navel, and sliced it with the knife.

“Kyle,” Bethea whispered, her head falling back on the pillow.

Elisabeth shivered. Was he speaking to his wife?

Bethea cradled the boy in her arms and put him to her breast.

Elisabeth covered them both.

“His name will be Kyle, after his father. It was such an easy birth, I’m sure he was here with me, helping.” Bethea grimaced.

“The afterbirth is coming.” Addie allowed the bloody tangle to plop into a pot, which she put on the floor beneath the bed.

Elisabeth removed layers of wet sheets from under Bethea and replaced them with another pile at the ready. She placed wads of absorbent cloth between Bethea’s legs, relieved the flow was no more than a trickle.

Addie poured warm water from a kettle into a washtub. Elisabeth took the babe, settled him in, and washed the blood out of his hair. She wrapped him in clean blankets and handed him to his grandmother.

Bethea’s eyes remained closed while Elisabeth bathed her and changed her clothes. Clement took the afterbirth and blood stained sheets outside. The whole affair had taken less than two hours.

Elisabeth felt relief Baby Kyle was born before her trip to Boston, and that Bethea and her son were healthy.

Ruddy trotted home, past the church. What a fine excuse she had for her first absence from services. Being in riding breeches on Sunday was another matter. Was being left alone punishment for believing in Edward, trusting him, running off with him?

Jealous anger pierced her heart once again. The Lord could have at least let her have their child to remember him by. Then again, being pregnant, penniless, and about to lose her home would be worse.

Chapter 24

March 1877

Boston, Massachusetts

Jared booked passage on a clipper, and the captain delivered on his promise to have them in Boston by Tuesday afternoon. They settled into tiny but neat rooms. Elisabeth peered out the window at passersby in the Public Garden, overcoats and muffs on, their boots tromping through the fresh snowfall. Flakes still fell, fuzzy motes dancing in the gaslights’ yellowish cast.

She unpacked her formal dress and hung it to shake out the creases, and laid out the matching hat and shoes, pleased that the deep green projected an air of authority and control.

Sara started to the door when she heard Jared’s knock. “Let’s get supper, Elisabeth.”

“Go on without me. I’m not hungry.” She hadn’t slept well on the overnight trip, and perpetual anxiety had ruined her appetite.

Sara didn’t argue, closing the door behind her. It would be wonderful if Jared proposed to Sara, and Paul and Katherine went to work for him. Then she’d only have to worry about herself. The thought of selling Ruddy and closing the door of the house behind her forever brought tears to her eyes again.

She passed the time practicing her speech to Somersell in the mirror, perfecting the art of tilting her chin up and looking down at him, to show she was in charge.

Sara came back with a tray of soup, and some bread and cheese. “I thought you’d be hungry and brought something from the dining room.”

“Thank you.” Elisabeth nibbled at the cheese and sipped the soup before testing the waters. “Did Jared have anything to say about the situation?”

Sara stopped putting away their things and stiffened. She rarely smiled, but her face was now frozen into an expression somewhere between abject disgust and cold fury. “He talked about you and the situation, of course. He has some ideas, but wants to wait until after the meeting tomorrow.”

She completed her tasks, washed, and settled onto one side of the double bed. The deafening silence pressed down like a leaden weight. What had she done to anger Sara so? Pushing aside the worry, wanting to be well rested, she slipped under the covers and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Edward, stranded somewhere, called to her, but his words were garbled. She awoke in a cold sweat.
He wants to tell me something. Why can’t he?

Elisabeth calmed herself, sitting by the light of a small lamp. The bread left from dinner quelled the nausea a bit, but she slept no more that night.

They all walked into Neville Somersell’s office at the appointed time. The room seemed like it hadn’t a breath of air for years and smelled of musty rope and stale pipe tobacco. The dark wooden door thudded closed like the lid of a coffin. A young clerk behind the desk rose.

“I’m Mrs. Edward Barrett.” She extended her hand, and he shook it, limp-wristed.

“Of course, Mrs. Barrett. Mr. Sommersell will be here shortly. Please sit down.” He didn’t acknowledge Sara or Jared, nor offer even a sip of water before going back to his pile of papers.

Elisabeth imagined Edward sitting in any one of these chairs waiting to meet his employer. He might even have sat in the same one as she on the day he signed his final contract and death sentence.
Not now, you mustn’t become emotional.

Somersell strode in at eleven, a full half-hour late, and didn’t apologise. He went directly into his office without a word to anyone. The young man, using hand gestures only, escorted them inside and closed the door.

Somersell stood behind a mahogany desk without a single sheet of paper on it.

“Good morning, Mr. Somersell.” Elisabeth forced herself to stand tall and locked her knees to keep them from shaking.

He didn’t take her extended hand for even a weak handshake. She let it drop back to her side. “May I present Miss Sara Storch and Mr. Jared Sanders?”

Somersell grunted in acknowledgement and leaned forward on the desk, and his hands pressed smudged palm prints onto the gleaming wood finish. “Please, sit down.” His chin pointed at the chairs in front of him.

Elisabeth perched on the edge of the hard wooden seat, trying once more to forget that Edward spent one of his last days in this place, speaking to this horrible man. Jared and Sara sat, hands folded on their laps.

Somersell sank into his chair, bringing himself eye level with Elisabeth. “Mrs. Barrett, your husband has been missing, presumed dead, for eight months. I lost two engines. I am about to demand the sale of your property unless my claim is paid within one month’s time.”

Elisabeth tried not to react to his callous statement of fact. She spoke slowly so her voice wouldn’t waver. “Mr. Somersell, I am fully aware of what you intend to do. Have you considered that, since you insisted
The Sea Mist
sail overloaded, you are as responsible that she sank as anyone else? I am here to appeal to your sense of honour. Edward paid the mortgage you extended him in full. There should be no further issue with my ownership of the house. I would be willing to negotiate a reasonable settlement of the terms of his last contract with you through my attorney, Mr. Wilcox. I will pay you over time.” She had no idea where she would get such a sum, but would cross that road when she arrived.

“May I ask Mr. Sanders and Miss Storch to leave?” Somersell went to open the door without waiting for an answer.

“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of them. They are my trusted advisors.” Elisabeth rose from her seat to prevent him from looking down at her.

“Mrs. Barrett, I must speak to you alone. If you do not agree, I shall consider this meeting over.”

“Perhaps you should wait outside.” Elisabeth glanced at Jared and Sara.

They rose to leave, and it felt like her bones had turned to jelly. Her heart fluttered, and the room seemed to fill with a cloud of dust. Taking deep breaths, she blew away the fog.

“Summon me immediately if necessary.” Jared stared so intently that Somersell looked away.

They barely had time to exit before he slammed the door. “Mrs. Barrett, I have a proposal that could settle this matter easily. If you marry me, not only would I forgive the debt, but you would come to live in Boston, in surroundings befitting a lady of your stature. Summers on the Cape are delightful, but the conditions there year round are far below what you deserve. I will allow you to retain full ownership of the house.”

Any fuzziness dissipated like smoke up a chimney. Elisabeth struggled to contain her fury and keep her voice strong and modulated. “Mr. Somersell, I am not a piece of chattel. That house is mine, and if you had any conscience would recognise that. Edward and his entire crew are dead because of you. Dozens of widows and orphans, and all you can think about is money and your own lascivious pursuits?”

“Mrs. Barrett, you have twenty-four hours to make your final decision. A maid and a farmer, or a gentleman? A shack, or a mansion? Good day.” Somersell sniggered and strode to the door.

Jared and Sara jumped up as Elisabeth stepped out.

Somersell sneered at Sanders who went to Elisabeth’s side. “I’m sure you’ll think better of my offer once you sleep on it, Mrs. Barrett. There is no one in Brewster who can offer you the kind of life I can.”

“I have a mind to wipe that smile from your face with the back of my hand, Mr. Somersell. You aren’t fit to lick our boots.” Elisabeth stared at him until the door closed in her face.

She maintained her composure until they exited the building then slumped against Sara, unable to hold back tears of rage and grief. The total lack of remorse Somersell exhibited only intensified the horrific vision of Edward walking out of the office, and down the same steps to his death.

Jared quickly hailed a cab and helped her inside, patting her arm and shoulder gently. Sobs racked her body. Sara stroked her arm in a feeble attempt at consolation.

The carriage arrived at the hotel, and Jared jumped out to pay the driver. He helped her and Sara down in turn. Burying her chin in her chest to hide her tear streaked face, Elisabeth hurried into the lobby ahead of them, desperate to get into the privacy of her room.

Jared stopped her at the stairs by catching her arm. “I’ll escort you up. Sara, could you please ask them to bring up tea? We need to discuss something in private.”

“Of course.” Sara glared at him then went to the desk.

Elisabeth leaned heavily against Jared as he supported her up the stairs.

“I can help, Elisabeth.” He guided her to the settee by the lone window.

“How?” After all this time and trouble, she was still being sold to the highest bidder.

Jared spoke calmly, resolutely, holding her hands like the consummate gentleman he was. “I’m going to say something that might garner me the same back of your hand, but I am prepared to sell my property, or negotiate it in trade for the lien on your house. I’ll marry you and have Mr. Wilcox draw up documents that assure you of the right to live there for the rest of your life. My income is sufficient to support you, the upkeep on the house, and pay the salaries, room, and board of your companions.”

“But you’re courting Sara.” No wonder her maid was acting so strange.

Jared’s voice was calm and his manner, as always, patient and kindly. “Sara is a lovely woman, but I’ve been smitten by you since the first day we met. Edward once asked me to take care of you in his absence. I believe this is what he would have wished.”

“Jared, I haven’t yet accepted that Edward is dead and I’ve had two men propose marriage to me in the last hour. I could never agree to anything like this.” It was almost as if Edward suspected his own impending demise and foresaw this. How could she have been so naïve, so stupid?

He moved so close to the edge of the settee it appeared he was about to get down on one knee. “Elisabeth, if I settle the debt, I own the house. In the event something happened to me, you could inherit it only if we’re married. I recognize you’ve never considered me more than a friend, and I assure you I’d never make any physical demands unless and until you consented. Love often grows between two people, but if it doesn’t you should consider this a matter of convenience.”

Despite Jared’s touching generousity, the idea was preposterous. “I’d be betraying Edward, Sara, and myself.”

“Edward built that house for you and died expecting it would be yours forever. He was a good man, who’d be homicidal if he were here to see what Somersell is doing. I wouldn’t have proposed to Sara under any circumstances.”

“Why would you do this?”

“I’d rather live in a house full of friends than alone.”

She paced off her anxiety. “I must discuss this with Mr. Wilcox.”

“I already did. He considered all the legalities and felt it was a reasonable solution, if you’d agree. I can marry you tomorrow morning. The court is within walking distance. Somersell will be forced to renegotiate since I would be in charge of your affairs.”

Elisabeth did not have time to respond. Sara came in, followed by a bellman carrying a tea tray. After he left, she tossed her cape on the bed and stared down at Elisabeth. “What did you decide?”

“No matter what happens, I would never marry Neville Somersell.”

“I was talking about Jared’s proposal.”

“Did the entire town of Brewster know about this before I did? Jared, how could you have discussed this with others before me?” Her fury subsided when she saw the expressions on their faces.

Somersell’s arrogance was in stark contrast to Jared’s bowed head. Sara had tears in her eyes. Elisabeth now understood the depth of her smouldering anger.

Jared dared to approach and touch her arm. “I discussed it with your attorney, and with Sara, both of whom are very concerned about you and the situation. I wanted to be sure of the legalities and social conventions before I brought this up.”

“Please go. Now.” Elisabeth clasped her hands to stop them from shaking.

“Goodnight, ladies. Elisabeth, I remain ready to marry you tomorrow morning and deliver the news to Somersell on time.” He smiled, and his blue eyes seemed to twinkle. “I’d be delighted to offer him the tip of my boot.” Jared took his coat and closed the door after him.

Elisabeth approached Sara who stared out the window, arms crossed over her chest. “I always assumed you and Jared would marry someday.”

Sara spun and glared into Elisabeth’s eyes, her face pale, her jaw trembling. “You can’t force someone to fall in love. How many times did we discuss this when you refused to marry the men your father picked for you?”

“I don’t know what to do, Sara.”

“You’ll do what you have to. You always have. Perhaps that’s why gentlemen fawn over you. It’s more touching when they can effect a rescue. It’s back to London for me. I trust you’ll at least give me a recommendation for a new position.”

“I didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”

“No, of course not. But you’ll let Jared save you. Hypocritical, is it not? I helped you get out of marrying men you didn’t love. Now you’re doing that very thing. I’ve lost a chance for my own happiness, as well as my sister. She’ll never leave her husband to go back to London. I’d do the same if I were in your position, but you wouldn’t like it any better than I.” She left Elisabeth alone to cry, sip tea, and consider her options.

Sara returned late, and said nothing before settling into bed and blowing out the lamp, her back to her former mistress, now turned rival.

Elisabeth spent another night sitting in the chair. She couldn’t bear to dream of Edward again, perhaps this time telling her not to do what she knew she must.