Enduring Love (23 page)

“Yes. But one without John.” Lydia stepped in front of Hannah. “I know you love him.”

“I do. And I thank you for caring about me, but a vendetta will not help. To do evil for self-gain will only bring more heartache.” Hannah looked back at the house. John’s chin rested on his chest. He’d fallen asleep. “I’ll always love John. And because I do, I’ll not interfere.” She gripped Lydia’s forearms firmly. “Please, let this go.”

Lydia frowned. “But what if this Mr. Douglas turns out to be someone suspicious, what then?”

“If such is the case, then I shall consider what to do.”

“You should go to Sydney Town and find out more ’bout him.”

Hannah blew out a breath of frustration. “And what am I looking for?”

“Just see who he is, why he’s in Sydney Town. If he’s a legitimate businessman . . . well, then perhaps Margaret has good cause to spend time with him.”

A breeze cooled Hannah’s hot skin and teased her hair. She studied Lydia. She’d always been a reasonable person, not given to flights of fancy. Perhaps her feelings now were valid. She turned her gaze to the river. If Lydia was right, John should know.

“All right. I’ll go.”

17

Hannah stood in the doorway of the Atherton study, trying to think of the best way to approach Catharine about making a trip into Sydney Town. She was embarrassed to even speak of her intentions, afraid she’d sound as if she were meddling and that she’d be seen as someone trying to fulfill personal desires. She wasn’t even certain she trusted her motives. Was it possible she wanted to believe something was wrong because she longed for the life she’d once had with John?

Catharine looked up from her writing. “Oh Hannah, dear. How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. I didn’t want to intrude.”

She set her pen aside. “Please, come in.”

Still wondering how to explain what she wanted, Hannah approached Catharine. “You look busy. Perhaps I should come another time.”

“No. I’m just writing a letter.”

“Oh.” Hannah glanced at the letter, knowing she was putting off her request.

“I’m writing to the governor, hoping to convince him to provide better care for prisoners. Those poor souls, they live in such appalling conditions. Sometimes I lie awake thinking about them. I do want to help.”

“You already do so much. I’ve been a recipient, remember?”

“I do indeed.”

“It’s not just the food and clothes you provide, it’s your tender way, the love you offer the women. When I think on it, I can feel it still.”

Catharine’s expression turned gentle. “Thank you.” She pressed her hands on either side of the letter. “I’ve written to the governor three times, without success. I thought that if I pestered him enough, he might make some changes, especially in the food and by offering more physician care and bathing.”

“Perhaps this letter will make a difference.” Hannah remembered—filth, rats, inedible food, disease—conditions had been frightful, especially at the Female Factory. “I always believed gaols were for the wicked. But so many of those locked away are decent people who simply fell upon hard times or have been unjustly accused.”

“Indeed. Your offense was not deserving of prison. Stealing a loaf of bread is hardly cause for fourteen years transportation.”

“I was also accused of stealing a silver chalice.”

“Unjustly accused. Judge Walker should have been placed in the stocks for what he did.”

Hannah stifled a shudder at the thought of her former employer, but had to smile at the idea of the judge being constrained in the stocks. “I would like to have seen that,” she said.

“Now then, what is it you needed, dear?”

She met Catharine’s kind eyes, suddenly remembering why she’d come. “I have need of a few days leave, if it’s not an imposition. Especially since I was with John for several days.”

“No imposition. What is it that requires your attention? Is everything all right? You’re not ill are you?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Hannah searched her mind, wishing there were some way to explain a trip to Sydney Town that didn’t include spying on Mr. Douglas. “I’ve no real need, mum.”

“And you’ve no need to be so formal with me. We’re friends, remember.”

“Yes. I remember. It’s just that since I’ve returned to your employ, it feels disrespectful to call you by your Christian name.”

“It’s not at all.” She looked at Hannah with affection. “It would please me if you referred to me as Catharine.” She slid the unfinished letter to the side and clasping her hands in front of her, she leaned on the desk. “Now then, how much time shall you need?”

“I’m not certain, perhaps three days, possibly four. Just enough to drive to Sydney Town, complete some business, and then a day’s travel back.”

Catharine studied Hannah as if waiting for further explanation.

“I have some things to attend to,” Hannah said, knowing she ought to add more details. She stared at her feet before continuing. “There have been rumors . . . about Margaret. It’s possible she may be here on false pretenses. Lydia has convinced me of the wisdom of looking into Margaret’s circumstances.”

Catharine’s back straightened, making her taller in the chair. “What do you mean by false pretenses? Whatever reason can Margaret have other than the one stated?”

“It seems she’s been seen in the company of a man, a Mr. Weston Douglas. And while John was abed, she spent several days in Sydney Town.”

“And you see it as your responsibility to see what she’s been doing?”

“Not exactly.” Hannah could feel Catharine’s disapproval. “I’d rather it wasn’t me, but I suppose someone ought to see that she has John’s best interests at heart.”

“In light of the rumors, that may be, but I’m not at all certain it should be you.”

“I care more about him than anyone.”

“That’s my concern. You care too dearly to be evenhanded. Your affection for him complicates the situation.” Her kind expression deepened. “I worry about you. If you were to make an error in judgment, I know you’d take it to heart and carry the burden of guilt.”

“All you say is true and so I will go with caution. If Lydia were to explore this further, her loyalty to me would cloud her vision—in fact, anyone who cares for me will be prejudiced. For that reason I’m the only one who can seek the truth with pure motives. I have John’s best interests at heart, not my own.”

Catharine met Hannah’s gaze squarely. “Are you sure of that?”

Hannah was taken off guard by Catharine’s directness. “I can’t be completely certain, but I will do my best not to let my emotions tread upon the truth.”

“I know you will do your best. But guard your heart, dear.”

“I will,” Hannah said, and added, “Lydia will be traveling with me.”

Catharine gave a wry smile. “Beware. She has loyalties for you, as you said.”

“Yes, but I have need of support. Her presence will bolster my courage. But I promise you, I’ll not presume anything simply because Lydia has an opinion.”

Catharine nodded. “I trust you. You’re a wise young woman. And of course you have my permission to go. And please take the carriage. It’s more comfortable than a wagon or buggy. And make certain Dalton goes with you. I’ll not have you and Lydia traveling all that way unattended. There are dangers on the road—highwaymen and such. In light of the aboriginal raid that took place at the Johnsons’ recently, I’d feel more at ease with him accompanying you.”

“Of course,” Hannah said, but couldn’t imagine Dalton being of much help in the face of a skirmish. He was much too dignified. “I shan’t be gone more than four days at most.”

“Take whatever time you need.” Catharine picked up her pen. “I’ll keep you in my prayers. And I do hope you find the truth. It’s time you left the past and moved forward with your life. Perhaps this will help.”

“Thank you.” Hannah turned and walked out of the study, feeling the sharpness of a reprimand, although she was certain Catharine meant no reproof. Still, Hannah knew it was time to leave John to his new life and to go on with her own.

I shouldn’t be going to Sydney Town at all
, she told herself, but she knew she would go because she must.

“It was kind of Mrs. Atherton to let us use the carriage,” Lydia said, leaning out the window and watching the river flow past. A front wheel bounced through a rut, followed by the back, tossing the women off their seats. Lydia laughed and tidied her hat. “I say, the baby is getting a good jostling.”

“Truly,” Hannah said, protectively resting a hand on her abdomen. She hoped the rough roadway was in no way harmful to her child. “The road is deplorable. Perhaps we should have waited and taken the barge.”

“We’d have had to wait another three days. What if that Mr. Douglas were to leave?”

“If so, then we most likely will have no reason to investigate him. If something were going on between him and Margaret, he’d no doubt stay in town.”

“We shall know soon enough.”

Hannah’s mind turned to the possibilities. What if the rumors were true? What would she do then? She couldn’t rein in hopeful thoughts of life on the farm—her, John, Thomas, and the baby.

“Hannah, where’ve ye gone to? Ye look as if yer a hundred miles away.”

“I’m here, but wishing I weren’t. I find this whole business deplorable. Sneaking about spying on someone feels criminal. And it’s not right to go behind John’s back. What if he finds out and believes I’m being vindictive?”

“He’ll only hear of it if we discover something he ought to know. In that case, we’ll tell him ourselves and he’ll be thanking ye for looking out for him. I’ve no doubt he’d much rather be sharing his life with ye instead of her anyway.”

“You don’t know that. He once loved her very much. Perhaps he still does.”

With disdain, Lydia puffed air through her lips. “I doubt that’s the case. He’s still in love with ye, Hannah. Ye know that. He’s got no reason to think yer being vindictive. In truth, ye’ve done yer best to be fair to Margaret. And honestly, it’s getting a bit annoying. She doesn’t deserve yer kindness.”

“Until there’s proof of wrongdoing, she deserves respect, especially mine. I know how difficult this has been, not just for me but for her as well.”

Lydia shook her head. “There’s wrongdoing here. I know it.”

“Have you never been mistaken about someone?”

“No one is right all the time, but I’ve a feeling and I trust it.” She looked at Hannah straight on. “And if I am right, then we have cause to worry ’bout John.”

“I fear what it might do to him. He’s suffered so much already.”

Lydia cooled herself with a fan. “This heat is unbearable.” Staring at a man leading a milk cow, she asked, “Did ye find out why Margaret was in Sydney Town when John was sick?”

“Thomas said she’d made purchases for him and for John and that she’d had a dress fitting.”

“And that’s all?” She stopped fanning herself.

“He mentioned something about a friend.”

“A friend? Indeed. How convenient. And was that friend’s name Douglas?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.” Hannah shook her head. “You’re being unfair.”

“Perhaps. But I doubt that she’d spend time with a friend when her husband is deathly ill.”

“She said she didn’t know John was sick.” Dust roiled up from under the carriage and in through the windows. Hannah covered her nose with a handkerchief.

With a cough, Lydia tipped her head against the back of the seat, briskly fanning the air. “And what did ye tell Thomas ’bout our trip to Sydney Town?”

“Just that we planned to do some shopping. I’ll have to see if I can find a little something for him while we’re there.”

When they approached Sydney Town, Hannah felt her tension grow.
What am I doing? This scheme is ridiculous. I
ought to tell Dalton to turn the carriage about and return to
the Athertons’.

“Shall we stay at the hotel?” Lydia asked.

“That’s fine.” Hannah leaned out of the window and shouted up at Dalton. “We’ll be staying at the hotel.”

“Right,” he called as he steered the team into town.

When they drove past the boardinghouse, Hannah studied the building. If Margaret had a gentleman friend, he’d mostly likely be there—the hotel was too expensive for long stays. She tried to remember what the man she’d seen with Margaret had looked like. It had been a long while. He wasn’t very tall, not much taller than Margaret, and built rather stocky.