Understanding Mercy Read online

  “Don’t sell it. You didn’t make a mistake. Mine was the first house on Beacon Hill, so I should have more say so about the neighborhood than anyone. Most of your neighbors don’t care if you are there or not. A few, like me, will be proud to have you, and a few will not want you. Those few are idiots, so just ignore them.” Placing his forearms on his knees, Hancock leaned forward and said sincerely, “I’m glad you feel you can talk to me about this, Berkeley. Everyone needs a friend, and with George Washington gearing up to run the country, and Benjamin Franklin and Lafayette back in France, I suppose I will have to do for now.”

  Addison was touched by the man’s sincerity. “Thank you. I’m not sure why I just dumped all that on you, but I’m glad I did. I have to admit I feel better.”

  “Berkeley, I’m accustomed to your usual witty and teasing manner, which I enjoy, but I want you to know that I’m glad to see this serious side of you. It’s important to have someone in your life you can pour your heart out to.” His face softened and he said with great conviction, “But I’m not the only one you can cast your cares upon. ‘Cast your cares upon Him for He cares for you.’”

  “Who? Who cares for me?”

  “The Lord. That is a scripture. Jesus goes on to say that He wants you to find rest for your soul.” He stood and placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “I wish I could stay longer, but I have another appointment. But you know where I live and where I work, so feel free to stop by anytime. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you at the ball. Good day, my friend.”

  Addison stood and ushered him outside, and after the Governor got in his coach and rolled away, he walked over to the harbor and watched the hustle and bustle of the sailors releasing the sails on The Pale Moon in order to catch the afternoon tides. One of the sailors looked down and called out, “Hello there, Captain.”

  He waved and called back, “Hello.” It felt somewhat strange to still be called Captain when he no longer captained the ship. Now he was a shipping merchant. Part of him envied the new Captain about to embark on a journey while he himself stood on dry land, rooted to the ground. But he was tired of his life spent adrift, both literally and figuratively. Now he stood at glorious Boston Harbor. He’d come in from the storm and found his safe harbor, so to speak. The sun shined brightly against the light blue sky, the birds sang from the trees, and the cherry blossoms floated to the ground like snow, yet in spite of all the beauty and security around him, he felt unsettled. Somewhere inside him loomed a fierce longing for something…he just wasn’t sure what. But the longing squeezed at his heart with such pressure it almost hurt. Letting out a sigh from the depths of his soul, he wondered if he had found a safe harbor, and if so, then why did he still feel so terribly adrift?

  Understanding Mercy

  Understanding Mercy

  Chapter Two

  Mercy sat in her front yard, working in the garden. It had become the pride and joy of the neighborhood. She loved it when people walked by just to enjoy the flowers she tenderly nurtured to life. It felt nice to be out of her tight whalebone corsets, and cumbersome petticoats and hoops, and heavily brocaded gowns. This simple poplin gardening dress was the perfect thing to wear on this warm and wonderful day.

  While she dug at the rich earth with her spade to remove weeds, a robin serenaded her from the crabapple tree above her, and a light breeze carried the scents of springtime in the air. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the day before. What an odd day that had been. The two most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life, giving her attention that confused her. Well, Ian was handsome, but Mr. Berkeley was too terrifying for her to consider handsome. Oh, who was she kidding, he was handsome. She knew they were both inappropriate men for her, so she needed to stop thinking about them. Her family had enough problems without her acting like a silly girl and making it worse.

  Suddenly, Mercy had the feeling that someone watched her. She swiveled around to see the startled face of Cordelia’s pretty, little slave watching her. “Oh, Daisy. You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Please forgive me.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.” She noticed the girl’s large brown eyes sweeping around her garden in admiration, so she asked, “Do you like flowers?”

  She nodded shyly. “I do. I’m named after a flower. My Mama named me.”

  “That’s right. You are named after a pretty flower, I might add. Would you like to help me garden for awhile?”

  Apprehension washed across her face. “I would need permission first. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  Mercy couldn’t imagine getting in trouble for gardening. How stupid.

  Daisy asked softly, “But can I watch you?”

  “Of course you can. I’m just weeding right now. I was actually getting ready to take a break for a little while and sit under the arbor and read for a bit.”

  “Read?” She spoke the word as if it was full of wonders and mysteries.

  “Yes, read.” She held up the novel she’d stuffed into the pocket of her apron. “This is Clara Reeve’s novel The Old English Baron . Have you read it?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “I’m almost finished. It’s set in Medieval times, and full of danger and drama, but most of all chivalry. The hero is honest, courageous, worthy, and fearless, ready to risk his own life to save the damsel in distress. It’s terribly romantic. I’m sure you’ll like it. Come tomorrow and I’ll give it to you.”

  With a slight frown, she shook her head. “I’m not allowed to read.”

  “Not allowed to read? Why?”

  “I’m a negro, ma’am. We aren’t allowed to read. It’s forbidden and against the law.”

  “Poppycock. Everyone should be allowed to read, no matter the color of their skin.” Mercy held her own olive-skinned arm up against Daisy’s. “For pity sake, your skin isn’t much darker than mine. Anyway, those laws are ridiculous. Tomorrow, I’ll give you this book.”

  “But it would do me no good to take the book from you. I don’t know how to read.”

  “Imagine that. I think it’s horrible you don’t know how to read. But we can fix that problem easily enough.” Mercy stood and took Daisy’s hand, leading her around the back of the house to a little hidden gazebo in the garden nestled amongst a plum grove. “Here sit by me and I’ll teach you to read. Books are the door to all wonders in the outside world. We can’t actually visit Medieval times, but with this book we can.”

  Sitting together on the bench of the gazebo, under the shade of a plum tree with fruit in the first stages of life, the two girls enjoyed one another’s company as Mercy taught Daisy the tools of a whole new world. She pointed out letters and sounds and her heart filled with pride as Daisy’s face lit with delight when she repeated a sound correctly. Finally, Daisy stood with a look of concern. “Cordelia was taking a nap, so I slipped out, but I need to get back before she wakes up. Thank you, Miss Creed. You are powerfully kind.”

  “Teaching you to read is my pleasure. Come by tomorrow, during Cordelia’s nap time, and I’ll teach you some more.”

  “Don’t you take naps?”

  “No. I have too much energy for that. Besides, I would rather teach you to read than sleep. By the way Daisy, how old are you?”

  “Almost nineteen.” With a curtsy, she gifted her with a beautiful smile. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  Mercy watched Daisy walk next door to Priscilla’s house where Cordelia and her family were staying and wondered why the girl seemed so familiar. She never met her before last week, but something about her stirred recollections. Oh, well, she couldn’t imagine why she thought that.

  Remembering Daisy’s earlier statement, she frowned. She hadn’t known slaves weren’t supposed to know how to read. How stupid. She was glad she could fix that.

  With anticipation, she picked up the novel and entered another world. An hour later, she finished and lowered the novel to her lap with a dreamy sigh. How wonderful to be loved by a dashing hero willin
g to risk danger just to be by your side.

  Her drifting thoughts halted when a slightly familiar voice call out, “Miss Creed. Come here.”

  Setting the book on the bench, she stood and looked around. “Come where? Who are you?”

  “It’s Ian Magregor. Come behind the tree. I need to ask you something.”

  She walked to a large and lofty elm which waved its elegant branches above her. When she peeked tentatively behind the trunk, a strong hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. Suddenly she found herself against a warm and terribly male body.

  An urgent voice whispered, “I had to see you. I shouldn’t be here, but I had to see you again.”

  Her very own dashing hero. This had to be some sort of dream. Things like this didn’t happen to her in the real world. But then her mind cleared a bit. Ian was not a knight, he was an office worker. Pulling away, she asked, “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Sometimes I lose track of the days,” she babbled, unsure of what to say. “How did you know where I live?”

  “I’m your father’s accountant. I put his return address on his correspondence. And, I had to see you. Miss Creed, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special between us. Tell me you feel it too.”

  Gazing into his dazzling brown eyes, she felt drawn to him. Slowly, she nodded. “I feel something too. I’m not sure what, but I know I feel something.”

  He reached out and held her face in his hand while his thumb brushed across her cheek. “Oh, Mercy, you are so sweet and innocent.” Pulling her closer again he asked, “May I call you Mercy?”

  She knew she should say no, but she feared she’d never be able to refuse him anything.

  His breathy voice tickled her cheek. “I know we just met, and I should not be so forward to ask such a liberty, but Miss Creed sounds too formal for the way I feel about you.”

  She managed to say, “You may call me Mercy, but I’m sure you should not hold me so closely. I like it, but I don’t think my father or mother would.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled away with a nod. “You are right, of course. I don’t know how to court you properly. If I asked your father, I’m sure he would refuse me since I have nothing to my name, but I will soon. You’ll see. I’ll have great wealth, and when that day comes, I’ll ask you father for his permission to win your hand. He won’t deny me then, I’m sure.”

  “How do you plan to become wealthy?”

  “I’m working on something right now. I will do anything to make myself worthy of you,” he pledged.

  She thought of the unscrupulous Mr. Berkeley with all his money and no morals. “Money alone does not make someone worthy.”

  “That is true. But without money, I could never be considered a suitable match for you. And I must have you for my own.”

  His possessive tone frightened her a bit, but as she gazed into his beautiful face the conviction seeped inside her too. The romance thrilled her. It was as if she’d stepped into the pages of her favorite novel where true love overcame any obstacle, no matter how high.

  He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Will you wait for me Mercy? Say you will.”

  “How long?”

  “As long as it takes.”

  “Will I be able to see you?”

  “Of course. We will find ways to be together until I can officially ask for you.”

  It sounded terribly romantic. But this wasn’t a novel. This was real life. Her life. An overwhelming sense of guilt assaulted her. With wariness, she said, “Somehow sneaking around feels wrong.”

  “I know,” he breathed against her cheek. “I don’t like it either, but I see no other way. I’ve waited my whole life for you. When I shivered in the cold at Valley Forge, I kept myself alive dreaming of someone like you. When I met you yesterday, I knew you were the one. Fate has brought us together.”

  Mercy didn’t believe in fate. She’d always felt that God’s loving hand directed the ways of men. Would God lead her to betray her parents by sneaking around with Ian? It was hard to imagine.

  Ian brushed his lips against her cheek. “Oh, Mercy, my love, tell me you will wait for me.”

  She felt herself dissolve in his arms. All her reason and resistance disappeared. “I’ll wait for you, Ian. But make your way quickly, so I don’t have to wait long.”

  “I will, my love, I promise.”

  Pulling her head away, she gazed up at him. “You were at Valley Forge. You served in the Continental Army?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You are a war hero?”

  “Yes, I am.” He replied with a nod.

  “My brother was at Valley Forge.”

  “Yes, Noah Creed.”

  “You knew Noah?”

  “A little. I’m sorry he died at Yorktown.”

  “Will you tell me of him?”

  “He was brave and kind. George Washington favored him, and he slept in the huts with the other officers, so I didn’t see him much. What I remember is that he was always writing letters to his family.”

  “Yes, we got letters from him all the time. I missed him terribly. I still do.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Mercy let out a heart-weary sigh. “Noah came home a few times, and I begged him to stay. But he said he had too much honor to be a deserter, and had pledged to see the war through to the end. And he did...only to die in the last battle.”

  He reached over, plucked a flower from a nearby lilac bush and brushed the fragrant bloom across her cheek. “We have such little time together. Let us speak of happy things.”

  She wanted to talk of her brother but understood why Ian didn’t want to recall painful memories from the war. She longed to remove the dark shadows that formed in his eyes when he spoke of Valley Forge. Determined to bring a smile to his face, she asked, “And what happy things do you wish to speak of? Tell me and I will speak of them.”

  A charming smile broke forth on his face. “I would like to speak of us.”

  “Us? Hmmm. Let’s see—” While she decided what to say, she noticed his gaze dropped to her mouth. A chill raced up her spine. In nervousness, she licked her lips, and his mouth curved into a crooked smile, as if he understood how she felt. She should speak—she tried to speak—but before she could say anything, he pulled her against him and brushed his lips lightly against hers.

  Everything within her screamed to pull away, but somehow she couldn’t. Closing her eyes, she sighed and felt his smile against her lips. She wished she knew what to do, but she had no idea. She’d never seen anyone kiss like this before. Who knew that lips merely touching felt this wonderful? He deepened the kiss until her head spun, the ground disappeared, and she felt like a rag doll hanging limply in his arms.

  Finally, he dragged his lips from hers and whispered, “Was that your first kiss, Mercy?”

  Nodding, she answered breathlessly, “Yes.” Blinking a few times, she pulled back and looked at him. “I think you are good at that.”

  “I think you are too,” he replied with a mischievous smile. He looked around and then said reluctantly, “I need to go, my love, before someone sees us.” Thrusting a piece of paper in her hand, he stated, “Here’s my address. Write to me. And don’t worry, we’ll find ways to be together until I can court you properly.” Before she could say anything, he was gone as quickly and quietly as he’d appeared.

  With a sigh, she lifted her fingertips to her lips and leaned against the sturdy trunk of the elm tree. What had just happened? She’d just kissed him. Now she had to marry him. A proper girl didn’t go around kissing men she didn’t marry. That kiss had sealed her commitment to him. They were bound, and she’d wait for him, no matter how long it took.

  Mercy walked back to the little patch of earth she’d been weeding earlier, and sat down with a contented smile. She began to plan what her garden would look like in the house that she and Ian would own someday. Her garden, her h
ome and her whole life would be beautiful. She hummed happily as she picked up her spade and got back to work.

  Understanding Mercy

  Understanding Mercy

  Chapter Three

  The sun rose with splendor and bathed the city of Boston in a warm, golden light. White, puffy clouds remained immobile in the clear and serene sky. The sails on the ships in the harbor hung limply from lack of the slightest breeze, and the unruffled waters remained as still as a mirror. Addison’s morning at the docks had been pleasant, but as the day wore on, the heat became almost unbearable.