Understanding Mercy Read online

  She had to admit she did feel a little flattered, but a known rake like him probably knew all the tricks and had flattering girls down to an art form. She glanced down at her skin that still tingled from his touch. Did all the men in Boston today want to feel her like a petal?

  Mercy glanced up to see Cordelia glaring at her with dark eyes that almost looked black. A shiver of apprehension made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Suddenly, Cordelia lifted her chin and said haughtily, “Mr. Berkeley gives attention to all the pretty girls, so don’t be too flattered. He held my hand for much too long last night.”

  Priscilla rolled her eyes in annoyance. “He did not, Cordelia.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “He did not. I was there. Remember?”

  Cordelia tossed a perfect ringlet over her shoulder and seethed, “Think what you want.”

  “I always do,” Priscilla replied with a harsh laugh, and then tugged on Mercy’s hand impatiently. “Walk faster. Shopping awaits.”

  Mercy knew no shopping awaited for her. Just that morning her father had reluctantly told her that she could not buy anything for awhile. Intense shame flickered in his eyes and it broke her heart. She assured him she had enough already and not to worry, but her words only seemed to make him even sadder. And all because of Mr. Berkeley. She didn’t care how much he protested his innocence in the matter, he had to have something to do with her father’s financial difficulties. What else could explain it? Thinking these thoughts quickly doused any flickering of warm feelings she had for Mr. Berkeley as effectively as throwing water on a flame.

  “Oh look,” Priscilla cried with enthusiasm. “That fabulous hat in the window is covered in cherry blossoms. I think I want to buy it.”

  “Go on inside. I’ll be right there,” Mercy assured her. Priscilla and Cordelia busily began trying on hats and Mercy watched them, doing her absolute best not to feel envious. Stepping to the cherry tree outside the shop door, she snapped off a twig full of blossoms and stuck it in the brim of her wide straw hat. This would have to do for now. Because of Mr. Berkeley, her life from here on out would be quite different.

  ****

  Addison rode back to his office wondering what on earth had just come over him. Why had he touched Mercy Creed like that? It must be because she was so astoundingly beautiful that she knocked the wind right out of his lungs, and his brain suffered from lack of oxygen and stopped working. He rolled his eyes in disgust at himself. What an idiot! This young, innocent girl was certainly not the type to be dallied with. He had plenty of shopkeepers and dressmakers and such practically throwing themselves at him on a daily basis, and any of them would do perfectly well for a wife, if he ever decided he wanted one.

  Mercy Creed was completely unattainable, out of his realm, untouchable…and yet he’d just touched her. He smiled when he thought about how her pretty cheeks turned such a delightful shade of pink and her whole body trembled just from him touching her wrist. She had a goodness and sweetness about her that he found intoxicating. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching her hair that hung over her shoulder in a curl that looked exactly like shiny, spun gold. He could only imagine how it would feel. From a distance he’d known she was beautiful, but when he stood before her and she lifted her lashes to reveal her startling jade green eyes, he almost forgot how to breathe. Never in his life had he seen eyes as large and astonishing as hers. They had not changed a bit since she was a baby—a perfect baby that had turned into a perfect young lady.

  His mind wandered back to the first time he saw Mercy since she’d grown into such a beauty. He’d been all over the world establishing his shipping empire and had not been in Boston for over three years. He’d gone to Governor John Hancock’s office to let him know that he was back, and none other than his good friend George Washington was there visiting. Both men were thrilled to see him and after discussing politics and shipping for over an hour, Washington stood and announced, “I’m off to buy a pair of gloves. Would you like to join me, Addison?”

  Of course he’d agreed to accompany him, and they strolled down Boylston Street as the chilly autumn air loosened the red and orange leaves that drifted to the ground and crunched under their feet. Addison listened intently to what his friend said, but then he looked up and saw a sight which made his breath catch as it never had before. Wearing a yellow satin dress, Mercy scampered along the street toward him as she laughed with her friends. In an instant, she lifted up her skirts and stepped onto a low stone wall and walked along, balancing herself with her arms outstretched on either side. He blinked a few times, trying to take in her almost blinding radiance. She looked like sunshine itself against the backdrop of the gloomy, gray sky. Washington had seen him staring and teased, “So James Creed’s daughter has caught your eye. Believe me, you are not alone.”

  As casually as possible, he remarked, “She is a pretty girl.”

  “She is a beautiful girl, inside and out.” Addison nodded and continued to stare at her in open admiration as she hopped off the wall and piled into a waiting carriage. She had disappeared from his life as quickly as she appeared. Today, Mercy wore that same yellow dress and she looked even more like sunshine up close. She positively glowed with light.

  Addison had told Mercy that he’d seen her in town and thought she was pretty. But he didn’t tell her that this had occurred over six months ago and he’d thought of her at least once every day since. For some strange and inexplicable reason he could not seem to rid his mind of her. Now it would only be worse. He’d touched her and he was sure that even the finest materials he imported from India were not as soft and silky. His mind began to wander to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her. He quickly reprimanded himself, “You idiot.”

  If he ever wanted to court Mercy, he would have to ask her father’s permission first, and he would certainly not allow his innocent daughter to associate with someone like him. Especially now that her father thought he was responsible for his financial troubles. He must think that. Mercy wouldn’t have come up with such an idea on her own.

  But what did any of it matter? He needed to try harder to put Mercy out of his mind. For as long as he could remember, he’d promised himself he would never be a man like his father, letting a woman consume him. If he ever chose a bride, it would have to be someone who meant little to him, and he had a feeling that if he got too close to Mercy she would eventually come to mean a great deal to him, and that he could never allow. He hadn’t worked this hard to become a strong man just to let a woman make him weak.

  After taking his horse to the stable, he walked to his office for a meeting with John Hancock. The governor had asked to speak with him, and Addison was glad, since he truly liked the man. As he approached the door, Cecil met him with a smile that quickly slid away into a look of concern. “Why do you look so forlorn?”

  “Do I? I was just thinking about something, I suppose. Is the tea ready for my meeting?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Cecil. I truly don’t know how I would manage without you sometimes.”

  “I cannot imagine how you would manage either, so let’s hope neither one of us ever has to find out.”

  Addison gave him an appreciative smile and at the clatter of approaching hoof beats, he turned to see Governor Hancock’s coach pull up and lurch to a stop. The commanding man jumped out and bounded toward him with an outstretched hand and an enthusiastic, “Good day, Berkeley. Thank you for seeing me.”

  Addison shook his hand and replied genuinely, “Thank you for wanting to see me.” He ushered him through the door. “Come inside and tell me what I can do for you.”

  As they walked into the luxurious office, a cheery flame danced in the fireplace and reflected off the surfaces of the highly polished ebony wood furniture and glistening silver accessories scattered around the room. They both took their seats in comfortable black leather chairs and Addison poured them each a cup of tea.

  “
So tell me,” the Governor asked, “Did Paul Revere make this silver tea set for you?”

  He shot him a look of surprise. “How did you know?”

  “He made one quite similar for me. Extraordinary workmanship. No wonder he is famous for his work with silver.”

  “He is amazingly talented. He engraved it here on the platter. See.” Leaning forward, he read, “To my friend Addison Berkeley, a true patriot. With sincerest appreciation, Paul Revere.”

  Hancock’s eyes lifted to him with a warm smile. “I’m sure you must cherish this.”

  Nodding, he agreed, ”I do.” When a silence ensued, he broke it by saying, “You are looking well, Governor Hancock. I’ve heard it said you are the handsomest man in Massachusetts and I must say it’s true. I wish I could wear a white wig with as much finesse as you, but alas, I’m a sailor at heart, and I feel I just look silly.”

  “Nonsense. But I’m glad you don’t wear a wig, because then you would become the handsomest man in Massachusetts and I would lose my title.” He leaned forward a bit. “And please call me Hancock. I call you Berkeley.”

  He shook his head. “Somehow I would feel disrespectful.”

  “Why? You call General George Washington, just Washington.”

  “Only because he absolutely insisted.”

  “Well, I absolutely insist as well. I consider you a friend. I’m greatly in your debt, since I could never repay all you have done for this country. I know you were born in England, yet Paul Revere is right—you are a true patriot.”

  Embarrassed by the lavish praise. Addison shrugged. “I didn’t do that much.”

  “Yes, you did. You risked your life to raise funds to supply the Continental Army with food and supplies. Don’t forget, I used to be a privateer, too. Nasty business. Dangerous business. Yet you made it look easy.”

  “Privateering does not make me feel like a hero. I’m glad I’m finished with it. My whole life I prided myself on not being a thief, yet I roamed the waters looking for loot. I’m not proud of what I did, and I would rather forget it.”

  “You should be proud. Many of the soldiers would’ve starved if not for your brave efforts. Washington himself said the day he hopped on the Pale Moon for a quick trip from Philadelphia to Boston he had no idea that meeting the twenty-one-year-old Captain would be life-changing for him. He sings your praises, and for good reason.”

  Addison wanted to change the subject. Any type of praise made him uncomfortable, but especially if he had to endure praise about something he wasn’t proud of. Trying not to sound rude, he deftly changed the subject. “So your shipping business is doing well?”

  “Tremendous. Booming, as is yours, I hear.”

  “Yes, I’m doing well. I’m glad to hear you are doing well, also.” He was glad to hear it. His own booming business had not put a damper on John Hancock’s business, so it made no sense that it would be affecting Mr. Creed’s business negatively. He wished he could get to the bottom of this mystery, but he didn’t want to poke his nose into Mr. Creed’s affairs if his help was not wanted.

  “So, Berkeley,” Mr. Hancock’s steady voice interrupted his thoughts, “I know you are an extremely busy man, so I’ll get right to it. I’m here for two reasons. First of all, I want to personally invite you to a ball my wife and I are having at Hancock Manor near the end of August. I know that is three months away, but I wanted to give you plenty of notice. I knew if I sent you an invitation, you would probably just throw it away, so I wanted to personally invite you and let you know how much I want you to attend.”

  Addison stared at him in shock and finally muttered, “Why would you want me there? Do you need to meet a certain quota of riffraff?”

  “Be serious. You are not riffraff.”

  “Maybe not according to you, but believe me, most of the Old Money crowd would not appreciate me being there. I’m New Money, in case you didn’t know.”

  “Well, I’m inherited money. You know my uncle left me his shipping business, Hancock Manor and a large bank account. People talk about how I’m one of the wealthiest men in this country, but I would have little if it wasn’t all left to me.”

  “You are an open-minded man, Hancock, and that is why I like you, but you are in the minority.” He glanced out the window and watched one of his new schooners gliding into port before he turned back and continued, “If I come to your ball, there will be murmurings and complaints.”

  “I don’t mind. Most people want to murmur and complain about something, so at least it will be you, and not my wife’s outlandish decorating, or the poor quality of the food, or the inadequacy of the orchestra we have hired. You see, Berkeley, the older I get, the more I realize how annoying men are.”

  Propping his ankle across his knee, Addison leaned back in his comfortable chair. “Not all men are annoying.” Then he added with a mischievous smile, “Some men are dead.”

  With a snort of amusement, Hancock asked, “How did you get to be so cynical at such a young age?”

  “By living a stressful life, I suppose,” Addison said with a shrug.

  “I’ll tell you what stress is—trying to be a Governor.”

  “I’ll tell you what stress is—staring down a cannon while an Englishman ignites the fuse.”

  Trying to top that, he added, “I say stress is being the first to sign the Declaration of Independence and then having nightmares that if the war failed I would go down in history as a monumental failure.”

  “Well I say stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you haven’t even fallen asleep yet.”

  He chuckled. “Benjamin Franklin warned me even he couldn’t keep up with you in a battle of wits.”

  “Then Benjamin Franklin is a blatant liar. No one can keep up with him and he knows it. I’m a mere ant in the presence of a giant like him.”

  “The man is amazing. I will not argue with you there. Anyway, Berkeley, you never agreed to attend my ball.”

  “Hmmm. Imagine that.”

  “I will not let you out of this.”

  He didn’t want to go, but how was he supposed to tell the Governor to get lost? Reluctantly, he mumbled, “Just send me the invitation and I’ll mark it on my calendar.”

  “Good. I’m pleased.”

  “You said there were two things you wanted to ask me?”

  “Yes, my wife and I are raising money to start an orphanage for the children whose parents died in the war. No pressure, but I wanted to let you know there is a need for additional funds.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Believe me, helping orphans is dear to my heart since I once was one. Raise what you can, and let me know what you still need. I will make up the difference.”

  “I knew I could count on you, Berkeley. You are a good man.”

  “Well, that’s not particularly true,” he replied dismissively with a wave of his hand. “But the one thing I ask is that you don’t let anyone know I donated the money.”

  “Why?”

  “Because people will say I’m just throwing my wealth around trying to look good. I can’t win for losing. People long to criticize me, so I try my best to just blend into the crowd and escape notice.”

  Hancock threw back his head and laughed heartily as Addison watched him in confusion. Finally he said with a smile, “You, my dear friend, could not blend into any crowd, no matter how hard you tried. Your unusual looks are arresting, your authoritative manner is captivating, and your reputation for living dangerously has made you famous. Get used to the attention. It will be a part of your life for as long as you live. A man like you will always have jealousy following you wherever you go. Try to take it with a grain of salt.”

  With a deep sigh, Addison nodded. “I try. People talk about me as if I’m an object, but I’m a human being with emotions and feelings, and people seem to forget that sometimes. When I was younger, Benjamin Franklin made it clear to me it’s wrong for people to judge harshly when they don’t know the whole story. Since we often don’t even know a pa
rt of the story, it’s best if we don’t judge or criticize at all. I cannot help that I was abandoned as a child. I cannot help that George Washington personally asked me to be a privateer. I’m not a perfect man, and I have never claimed to be, but I don’t understand people hating me for no real reason.”

  He took a sip of tea and then for some reason continued, “When I was a small child I used to walk up to Beacon Hill and imagine that I would live there someday. I knew if I worked hard that maybe my dream would come true. I’ve worked hard, and saved hard, and now I can afford to live on Beacon Hill, but people who inherited their money and have never done a day’s work in their lives, criticize me for wanting to live there. They did their best to block me from buying, but I fought it on principle’s sake. I could live anywhere in Boston and be content, but my money is as good as anyone else’s, and I wanted to live on Beacon Hill. But now I know that my neighbors don’t want me, I’m not sure if I made a mistake or not. I’m thinking of selling it before I even move in.”