Understanding Mercy Read online

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  Abruptly, he cut her off, “Don’t be naïve. Mr. Berkeley is an arrogant and dangerous man.”

  “You never even met him before today. How can you make such an assumption?”

  “I can tell by the way he walks that he thinks he should be the king.”

  Funny, she’d thought the same thing and other negative things as well, yet whenever any one said anything negative about Mr. Berkeley, she felt the need to defend him. “Ian, how can you make a railing accusation about a man’s character based on the way he walks? You know nothing about him.”

  “And you do?”

  “I don’t know if anyone could ever truly know the man, but I know him more than you do. I just found out he gave a vast sum of money to help the Abolitionist movement, and I only found out about that by accident. He didn’t even want anyone to know. I’ve even seen him show great kindness to people who could never repay him in any way.”

  She smiled inwardly at his kindness to the little street urchins. “I’ve seen aspects of his character that are sweet and gentle and I don’t think it’s fair to malign him when you don’t even know him.”

  “Why are you so defensive of him?” Anger and suspicion flashed in his eyes. “Is there something going on between the two of you?”

  “No. I’m not a cheater. If anything was going on with him, you would be the first to know.”

  “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “Yes, I’m telling you the truth. I’m not in love with Mr. Berkeley. I’m in love with you, Ian. I’m committed to you, and I will remain faithful to you.”

  “I believe you, but if Mr. Berkeley comes near you again, I want you to tell him to stay away.”

  “Oh, right. I can picture it now…Mr. Berkeley approaches me in the street with a friendly greeting but I put up my hand and yell, ‘Stay away from me!’”

  “I’m being serious, Mercy. I don’t want that man around you. He has feelings for you. I could see it in the way he looked at you, and you aren’t being kind to him if he thinks he has a chance with you. Let him know you are taken. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Perhaps Ian was right. Mr. Berkeley had called her sweetheart and made suggestive comments. She knew so little of men. She should listen to Ian.

  “How can I let him know I’m taken? No one can know about us yet.”

  “You’re a smart girl. Figure out how to let him know he shouldn’t be wasting his time on you.”

  “I will, Ian. I don’t want you angry with me.”

  “I don’t want to be angry with you either.” Then in a soft voice that washed over her and soothed her frazzled nerves, he commanded, “Come here.”

  She found herself folded into his embrace as he laid soft kisses up her neck. “I’ll never give you up.”

  “You don’t have to,” she assured him. Trying to find her footing she asked, “Do you want me to tell you about the abolition meeting I went to today?”

  “No,” he whispered against her skin.

  “Do you want me to tell you about the ball?”

  “No,” he whispered again as he silenced her mouth with his lips.

  A breeze drifted into the gazebo bringing with it the fresh scent of honeysuckle—the flower of ardent and passionate love. She tried to ignore the scent and did her absolute best to concentrate on the man who held her in his arms.

  Understanding Mercy

  Understanding Mercy

  Chapter Six

  Addison wrapped his cloak around his body in an attempt to keep out the cold bite in the early autumn wind. Standing at the railing of the ship, the warm glow of the lighthouse on Beacon Island welcomed him as the Boston Harbor came into view.

  He was glad John Hancock had ordered the beautiful lighthouse to be rebuilt after the British destroyed it in the war. Somehow Boston wouldn’t be Boston without the lighthouse’s welcoming light.

  Glancing up at the billowing sails above that pulled the ship toward Boston, Addison allowed himself to enjoy the wind which almost seemed to fill him up with something…maybe like hope?

  When his ship slipped by Castle Island, he studied the impressive Fort Independence, and then took in the rest of his splendid surroundings—picturesque shores of sand and rocks, shaded by groves of lush trees, and charming villages. Seagulls danced in the wind and sang out as if in welcome.

  His time in Philadelphia had been profitable as well as pleasurable. His meetings with Stephen Girard had gone exceptionally well and his time spent in the bustling city with his two friends was thoroughly enjoyable. George Washington and the Marquis de Lafayette stayed in Philadelphia, but three weeks was long enough to be away, and he needed to get home.

  Home.

  The word felt foreign to him. This was the first time in his whole life he’d really had a home, and it filled his heart with a warmth he could not explain.

  The ocean was unusually rough the past two days and he hadn’t wanted to risk shaving, so he knew he must look a fright. He hoped he didn’t see anybody he knew or the rumors of him being a wild and uncivilized man would be confirmed.

  He sighed deeply, relieved at the thought of a warm bath and clean bed awaiting him. But that was all that awaited him. He needed to get a dog. When a man walked in the door and no one cared, it was merely a house and not a home.

  For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine Mercy as his wife, lighting up with a dazzling smile as he opened the door. She’d greet him with a welcoming kiss—a very long, delightful kiss.

  These past three weeks away had not helped him to forget her in the least. He’d thought of her every day and dreamed of her several nights, and in some inexplicable way she slowly seemed to become a part of him.

  When he heard something interesting, he wanted to store it away so he could share it with her later. When he saw a pretty sunset, bird or flower, he wished she was beside him so she could see it too. He hardly knew her, yet when she was not near him, he missed her.

  He wondered how much longer he could fight these feelings and then he began to wonder if he even needed to fight them. Perhaps Mercy felt the same way about him, and her parents would allow him to court her if he asked.

  They might say no , but then again, they might say yes . Perhaps he needed to meet with her father. As Chaucer had said hundreds of years before, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” It was as true now as it was then. Or as the French said, “Qui ne risque rien, n’a rien.” He who never undertook anything, never achieved anything. That had been his motto in life, so why now should he be a coward as far as Mercy was concerned? As soon as possible, he needed to find her and try to discern how she felt.

  As the ship slipped into the bustling port, he looked around in amazement at the activity surrounding the forty wharves that compromised this thriving seaport industry. Even though hundreds of people dashed about, he looked though his spyglass to see if he could spot Cecil. Sure enough, he found Cecil leaning against the wall of a warehouse talking to the widow Mrs. Turnball.

  Addison smiled as he saw the woman gazing up at Cecil as if he were the only man around. Good for Cecil. He should marry the woman. She’d been sweet on him since the first week they’d moved to Boston. She ran a bake shop and Cecil loved sweets. It seemed like a match made in heaven.

  Cecil looked up and waved to him on the ship. Addison lifted his hand in acknowledgment of his greeting. His heart filled with appreciation for Cecil, his faithful friend. At least someone was glad he’d come back to Boston.

  Soon, he said good-bye to his captain and crew. He held his hat as he walked across the rope walk, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Mercy coming out of her father’s office.

  A smile lit up his face but fell away when he saw she was crying. Addison exchanged a few words with Cecil, and then handed him his bags, making his way toward Mercy.

  She glanced up at him. Mortification filled her eyes as she frantically wiped at the streaming tears making salty pathways down her cheeks.

  With deep concern, he as
ked, “Miss Creed, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  Weakly she replied, “Would you believe I have something in my eye?”

  “No. But I’ll pretend to believe it if that’s what you want me to believe.” He stepped closer and touched her elbow. “Can I help?”

  She bravely shook her head but still trembled with repressed sobs. He forcefully had to restrain himself from wrapping her into his arms, allowing her to hide from the world that had hurt her so.

  Clearing her throat, she mumbled, “This is certainly embarrassing.”

  “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone cries sometimes.”

  “Do you cry?”

  “Sometimes. When I’m really sad.”

  “Yes, well, I am really sad.” Then lifting her chin in a show of control, she added, “But I’ll be fine. When did you get back?”

  “I just walked off my ship.”

  Her gaze roamed over him from head to toe and she muttered, “You look…you look…”

  “Uncivilized? Like a pirate?” He finished for her and then teased, “Are those the words you were looking for, but too polite to say?”

  She wiped away one errant tear with the back of her hand as she let out a nervous giggle. “I suppose so. You do look like a pirate right now.” She stared up at him and then looked away.

  He wondered what thoughts filled her mind, because for no apparent reason, she blushed deeply. More deeply than he’d ever seen her blush before.

  He glanced around and then asked with concern, “Are you here alone?”

  “No, my mother is still talking with my father. She should be out soon, and then we are going to walk home.”

  “Cecil is bringing around my coach right now. I think it’s too cold for you to be out walking in this weather. Let me give you a ride. It’s not like your house is out of my way.”

  “I don’t know how much longer she’ll be.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “You are a busy and important man. You don’t need to wait for us.”

  “I’ll wait.” Then he slid his hand down to hers and squeezed. He added in a tone he knew must reveal his feelings, “I’m never too busy for you, Mercy. You will always be my top priority.”

  She glanced down at their joined hands and then her eyes flashed up to his at the use of her given name and the heated promise in his declaration.

  The second the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them, for she stiffened and sounded aloof as she replied, “Mr. Berkeley, I don’t think I should ride in your coach. People will get the wrong idea about us, and I would never want that to happen. I’ve already had people question me about you after our walk in the park, and I’ve made it clear that you and I are barely even acquaintances. I keep insisting to people that there is nothing between us, nor will there ever be. If I ride with you, the rumors will stir up again. If I stand here talking to you any longer, they will stir up as well.”

  He watched resolve fill her eyes. “I’m glad you are back safely from your journey. Good day, Mr. Berkeley.”

  She turned and disappeared back into her father’s office. Slowly, he covered his chest with his hand in an attempt to stop the unbearable pain. Surely a mallet had just shattered his heart into a thousand jagged pieces, leaving him hollow inside.

  ****

  Mercy stepped back into the office and leaned against the door as she let out a soft moan of despair. Relief filled her that Ian was not in the office today. He would take one look at her and know. He would know she lied when she said she had no feelings for Mr. Berkeley.

  For three weeks, she’d tried to not think of him. But he had some sort of strange hold over her that she could not even understand, let alone explain.

  Just last night, she’d dreamed she was kidnapped by evil men, and he came bursting into her room. His powerful presence surrounding him and making him look like a pirate.

  With his black cape swirling around him, he carried her away to safety and then kissed her passionately. And she didn’t want him to stop!

  Finally, she’d awake and then let out a groan of mortification. She didn’t want to be unfaithful to Ian—not even in her sleep, although she couldn’t control her dreams.

  But the dream was so real, she’d never been able to go back to sleep, for every time she closed her eyes Mr. Berkeley’s magnificent image filled her thoughts until she wanted to cry. What on earth was wrong with her? Her lack of sleep partly explained her emotional state right now. Partly.

  Her mother had wanted to visit her father again with treats. They had walked into his office to find him crying. The financial pressure upon him was causing him to break before their eyes. He now was only a shell of the man he used to be.

  Her father had told them he’d just sold his coach and four black horses to pay off his creditors. He loved those horses and needed his coach.

  Mercy had fled from the room to keep her father from seeing her tears. They would only make him feel worse. She had merely gone outside to get some fresh air but conflicting emotions about Mr. Berkeley whirled around her head and made her dizzy.

  Was he responsible for her father terrible situation? How could a man who seemed so kind one moment then be heartless the next?

  The confusing image of his face filled her mind and then she’d glanced up and there he stood! In a black cape, unshaven, with windblown hair—looking every inch like the wild and dangerous pirate of her dream. But his eyes were tender. Instinctively, she knew the only dangerous part of this man was the hypnotic hold he had on her.

  She already felt guilty about the way she reacted to Mr. Berkeley in her dreams, but the way she reacted to him just now consumed her with shame. Rushing outside her father’s office, she’d forgot to put her gloves back on, so when he held her hand and she felt his warm skin upon hers, shivers had danced up her arm and took away her ability to breathe. The sound of his deep, rich voice saying her name while promising she’d always come first in his life made her want to fall against him and let him hold her forever.

  Only the thought of Ian kept her strong, and gave her the ability to push Mr. Berkeley away with her harsh words. But she had the sickening feeling that her harsh words had broken his heart.

  But how could that be? A dashing man like him could have any sophisticated woman he wanted. So why would he want a simple girl like her? Even if he did want her, he’d get over it quickly enough.

  Ian had asked her to say something to keep Mr. Berkeley away, and she’d just done a smashing job of it. From the look in Mr. Berkeley’s eyes she could see that he probably wouldn’t even speak to her again. She knew this was good—it was necessary—but the thought of never again speaking to him brought a fresh wave of grief upon her. She buried her face in her hands as her body racked with sobs.

  The door moving against her back caused her to suck in a breath of panic, and she moved as Ian pushed his way into the room. Instead of compassion in his eyes, she saw irritation. “Why are you crying?”

  “Please don’t tell anyone, Ian, but my father had to sell his coach and horses to pay off his creditors.”

  Flippantly, he replied, “Welcome to the real world. Few people can afford a coach and horses.”

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise at his callousness. Sometimes she wondered if she knew Ian at all.

  He lowered his voice, his eyes narrowed and he asked, “Was that Addison Berkeley I saw walking away from here?”

  “Yes. He just got in from Philadelphia. I spoke with him briefly, and I let him know that he never had a chance with me. You would be proud of the way I handled it, Ian.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, love, I’m glad to hear it.” He looked around and then nuzzled the side of her face. “I’m glad you did that.” While laying kisses on her cheek, he encouraged, “I’m sorry your father had to sell his coach, but things will turn up for him soon and he can get it back.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just
know he will. Meet me tonight at eleven?”

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Ian quickly walked to the other side of the room and began rummaging in a cabinet as her father walked in. “What are you doing here, Ian? I thought you worked from home today.”

  “I have been working at home, but I needed some more ink and paper.”

  “Well, I’m glad you are here. I have a few questions about some recent accounting, and I need you to explain things to me. Do you have time?”

  “Certainly. I would be happy to explain any questions you may have.”

  “Good. Let me walk my wife and daughter out, and then we can get started.”