Understanding Mercy Page 8

  “I have to go to the Governor’s Ball tomorrow night, but I’ll meet you there the next night.”

  “You’re going to a ball without me?”

  “Well, you weren’t invited, and I have to go. I wish you were going, believe me.”

  “You don’t have to go.” Anger crept into his voice as he commanded, “Get out of it.”

  Shaking her head with a frown, she answered, “I cannot. Besides, I want to go. I’ll get to see many old friends that I haven’t seen for awhile. But I’ll tell you all about the ball the next night when I see you.”

  His eyes darkened as he opened his mouth to respond, when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Ian looked down and began writing as if he didn’t even know she sat in the room.

  When her father walked in, she noticed deep lines creasing his handsome face that she’d never noticed before. He crouched down in front of her and laid his hand across her forehead, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God you don’t have a fever.” With worry etched all over his face, he asked, “Where do you feel sick? I heard about a few more cases of yellow fever breaking out in Philadelphia. I hope it has not come here too. Blasted mosquitoes.”

  Mercy reassured him, “I’m just tired, Daddy. That is all. I promise.” Losing Noah had just about destroyed him. Losing her would finish the job.

  “I’ll have my coach take you home.” Lifting her gently to her feet, he soothed, “Come along, darling.”

  As she found herself being ushered out of the room, she glanced back at Ian to see him glowering. Did he really expect her to stay home from the Governor’s Ball? How selfish. She truly wished he was going. When he became an important man, they could attend functions like this together. In the mean time, she wasn’t going to sit at home. He shouldn’t expect her to.

  When she got home, she took a quick bath. After putting on a simple, cotton dress, she stood at the window and noticed Daisy lurking behind a tree in the garden. With all that happened, she’d forgotten their reading lesson. Grabbing her Bible off the nightstand, she crept out to the gazebo.

  As soon as Daisy saw her, relief flooded her face. “I’m glad you made it, Mercy. I was getting worried.”

  “Everything is fine. Sorry I’m late.”

  “It’s all right. I’m just anxious to find out what happens to Jacob and Rachel. It’s so romantic that he had to wait seven years to marry her, but it seemed like a day because of his great love for her.”

  Mercy nodded and let out a deep breath. She’d only waited three months for Ian and already she grew aggravated as if the wait was an eternity. She just needed to be patient.

  Mercy read the story and then handed the Bible to Daisy to read. She stumbled over a few words, but it was obvious that Daisy had become a good reader.

  “Honestly, Daisy, I think you have got to be one of the smartest girls I’ve ever met,” Mercy praised.

  Daisy beamed and then reached into her pocket to pull out a handkerchief with an exquisite embroidering of daisies and the initials MPC for Mercy Prudence Creed. “This is so you won’t forget me. I wish I could give you more.” She looked away and wiped tears from her lovely brown eyes. “You’ve been good to me, and you aren’t even related to me.”

  Something about those words reverberated inside Mercy and it was as if a candle had been lit, bringing illumination inside her. Related. Daisy was much darker, but her large brown eyes and the shape of her face looked remarkably like Cordelia. She gasped at the thought. “Daisy. Is Mr. Turner your father? Is Cordelia your half-sister?”

  Panic covered her face, and she shook her head. “Why would you think that? I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to. You look just like Cordelia.”

  “Please say nothing. Mr. Turner knows and that is why he allows me to live in the big house. My mama died when I was a little girl, and Mr. Turner took me in. He’s a busy man, but when I see him, he’s kind to me. But Cordelia and her mother don’t. They’d be even more horrible to me if they did.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. We are friends, and I must say I like you much better than Cordelia.”

  Daisy laughed, “I will not tell her you said that.”

  “Good idea.”

  Daisy stood and smiled at Mercy. “I never thought I would have a friend like you.” She turned to leave. “Good-bye until tomorrow.”

  Mercy walked to the house, considering another bath, but as soon as she opened the back door, she heard her mother’s voice.

  “Mercy, come into the parlor.” She walked into the beautifully decorated room and her mother patted the sofa next to her. “Sit, Mercy. I want to talk to you about something.”

  A rising sense of panic filled her. “What is it?”

  Her mother stared at her for several moments. “I know you are keeping something from me, and it hurts that you wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  Instantly, the pressure of all the secrets flooded out. Tears streamed down Mercy’s cheeks. “Oh, mama. I wanted to tell you. I did.” Between sobs she got out, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t see you in the gazebo?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I’ve not been thinking clearly for awhile.”

  Her mother brought her into an embrace. “Oh, darling, don’t weep. I’m actually proud of you.”

  Mercy pulled back and stared. “Proud?”

  “Of course. You are risking the intense anger of the Turner family, and yet you defy their oppressive ways by teaching Daisy to read. I think it’s a noble thing you’re doing. It’s best that no one else knows, but I’m glad I do. I can tell I raised you right. Pastor Thompson prayed you’d be a guide to others, showing mercy. And look at you, darling.”

  Mercy buried her face in her hands and let out a moan of anguish. She couldn’t bear her mother’s praise when she’d been so wicked. She sneaked out almost every night after her parents went to sleep and let Ian hold her and kiss her in the gazebo. Yet her mother was praising her virtue. If only she knew. Mercy wanted to confess, but what if her parents forbid her from seeing Ian again. She couldn’t live without him. As much as she hated the dilemma she found herself in, she saw no way out.

  Her mother patted her leg. “I know you feel poorly so sit here and I’ll get your gown. We can sew on the appliqués together. I’m going to lower the neckline, shorten the sleeves and then add lace to both. I’ll cut away the front, adding an underskirt of lace. It’ll look so different when we’re finished, no one will know the original gown was from two years ago. They’ll think it’s the latest fashion from Paris.”

  With a smile, Mercy asked, “When you’re finished, I’m sure they will. But what about you, Mama? What are you going to wear?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, and I don’t care. No one worries about what an old, married woman wears.”

  Mercy loved her for putting on a brave face, but she knew that her mother loved to dress pretty and wear new gowns. This had to be difficult on her.

  “Well, no matter what you wear, you’ll still be the prettiest, old married woman there.” Mercy said.

  Her mother reached down and kissed her forehead with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  The next afternoon, Mercy tried on her finished dress. She held it out and spun around. Her mother’s magic with a needle had indeed turned this dress into a gorgeous gown that looked entirely new. “Thank you, Mama. It’s truly beautiful.”

  “As are you. Every man there will want to dance with you.”

  Mercy nodded and tried to smile. The man she wanted to dance with wouldn’t even be at the ball. She turned around and asked, “Can you unbutton me please? It’s so hot and humid I’ll sweat all over this dress and ruin it before tonight.”

  As her mother undid the little buttons, she teased, “Ladies perspire. They don’t sweat.”

  Mercy forced a half-hearted smile. Since I’m not much of a lady, I probably just sweat.

  Underst
anding Mercy

  Understanding Mercy

  Chapter Four

  With a frustrated groan, Addison wondered if it was too late to feign illness. Hancock was the only man he knew well. Mercy was the only female he knew, and he didn’t know her that well…and it needed to stay that way.

  “Stand still and stop being so incorrigible,” a harsh voice commanded.

  A white, cloth noose tightened around Addison’s neck. Cecil had insisted he hire a valet now that he wanted to be a respected man of business.

  The fussy Frenchman folded and refolded a dozen cravats saying, “No. No. Not right.”

  Addison didn’t know why. They all looked fine.

  At last, the valet seemed satisfied. “Now sit. If you won’t wear a wig, I must powder your hair.”

  “Do I have to wear powder?” Addison knew he must sound like a whiny boy. He hated the strong perfumed scent of the powder, and the way it always fell all over his dark clothes. But he wore no dark clothes tonight, so maybe the powder wouldn’t show. With the heavily perfumed ladies around him, the little bit of orange scent would hardly be significant.

  “Yes, you have to wear powder. I would not be fit to be a valet if I let you go to a ball with an un-powdered head.”

  Draping a sheet around Addison’s shoulders he covered his head in pomade and then worked and worked until every strand of his dark hair was covered in white.

  The man declared, “We are finished.”

  Addison walked to the mirror. A harsh laugh escaped when he saw a superbly clothed man staring back at him. His tanned skin was a stark contrast to the white that covered his head, the ivory and silver that covered his body, the fine white silk stockings that covered his calves, and the pumps on his feet. What an absurd costume. He felt like an idiot.

  “You look magnificent. Truly magnificent,” the Frenchman gushed.

  Cecil came strolling into the room and chuckled. “Well, look at you. Such a distance you’ve traveled from the little street urchin who wanted my burlap.”

  “But in many ways, I’m still the same person.”

  His friend walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Addison, you look spectacular. You have nothing to feel insecure about. You are smarter than most men there, wealthier, wittier, and more handsome. Hold your head high.”

  Addison gave him an appreciative but unconvinced smile. “Thank you, Cecil. I wish you were going with me.”

  “Well, I’m glad I’m not. I’ll leave the fancy patty-caking to you.” He led Addison toward the front door. “Now that you are a high falutin’ Beacon Hiller, you can walk to the governor’s mansion.” With a hearty pat, he encouraged, “Have fun.”

  Addison groaned as Cecil literally pushed him outside. As he walked along, he glanced down at his ivory colored shoes and hoped he didn’t get them dirty. He let out a laugh and shook his head. What kind of a man had he become? Never in his life had he worried about getting his shoes dirty.

  Within minutes, he found himself approaching the mansion lit up like a firecracker in the night. Carriages and coaches lined the drive and gloriously arrayed people strolled up the wide front steps, as the strains of an orchestra drifted through the open windows. Everything within him wanted to bolt. He felt like a rabbit entering a den of wolves.

  Grabbing his collar, Addison let out a tight breath. “Buck up, man,” he commanded to himself. He paced around the gardens trying to mentally prepare. If he could face down enemy warships, he could certainly do this. Couldn’t he? Slowly, he walked to the stairs, but then turned around and paced the gardens some more.

  ****

  “You look beautiful, Mercy. What a gorgeous dress. That apple-green color makes your eyes look even greener, if that is possible.”

  “Thank you. You look beautiful too.”

  Priscilla glanced down at her elaborate, lavender gown that had probably taken a modiste months to make. “This is a pretty dress. I hope Mr. Ainsworth likes it?”

  Her brow puckered in bewilderment. “Phillip Ainsworth?”

  “No, silly. His son, Luke.”

  “Luke Ainsworth? Are you smitten with him?”

  “A little.”

  “But he’s terribly quiet.”

  “I know, and I’m so fiery and talkative that it makes a nice match, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose so. How old is he?”

  “Twenty eight.”

  “That is so old.”

  “No it’s not. I don’t want a boy. I want to marry a man. Don’t you think he’s handsome?”

  Mercy had never really thought about it, but when she glanced across the room and saw him talking to some other men, she had to agree that he was handsome. “Yes, he is. He has nice dimples when he smiles.”

  “I know. That’s my favorite part of him. I like all of him though. His crooked smile and his dark curly hair. I don’t even mind his limp. Every time I see it, I’m reminded he’s a hero.”

  “Has he spoken to you?”

  “A little, but he doesn’t know I’m interested in him. He will though. I have a plan.” She giggled and leaned in to whisper, “Watch and learn.”

  Slowly, she sashayed close to where Luke stood. Priscilla fanned herself while giving him a flirtatious smile. He appeared amazed, and glanced around him to see if the attention was meant for another. When he looked satisfied that Priscilla’s regard was meant for him, Luke’s eyes widened and a crooked smile curved his lips. Excusing himself, he left his group and walked to Priscilla’s side and spoke with her for a few minutes before leading her to the dance floor.

  Mercy gave a little laugh. Neatly done. She never would have thought someone as mild mannered as Luke Ainsworth would catch Priscilla’s fancy, but she’d heard that opposites attract.

  Mercy gasped in surprise when George Washington walked into the room with his close friend the Marquis de Lafayette. A flurry erupted as people rushed to their sides. Everyone seemed surprised but the governor who wore a smug smile.

  “Mercy, may I have the honor of this dance?” She glanced up to see Noah’s closest friend Able Cotton. The last time she’d seen him was at Noah’s funeral. Powerful emotions engulfed her, but now was not the time to cry.

  “Of course, I would be delighted.” She placed her gloved hand on his arm and looked up into his face that had changed quite a bit. His hair still blazed red and freckles still covered his cheeks, but his features now belonged to a man. “It’s nice to see you again, Able. It has been too long.”

  “Yes, it has. You look pretty tonight, Mercy. Even as a little girl, I knew you’d be a beauty.”

  She saw pain in his eyes and knew his grief over losing Noah was still deep and raw. The two had met in grammar school and remained friends until Able held Noah’s shattered body in his arms. He had carried Noah from the battlefield as he sputtered his last words, “T—-tell my f—-family I l—-love t—-them. A—-and M—-Mercy t—-to b—-be a g—-good g—-girl.”

  Mercy wondered what Noah would think of her sneaking around to meet Ian, letting him hold her and kiss her. He wouldn’t like it. She was sure of it.

  Able reminded her of Noah, and thinking of Noah reminded her that her recent scandalous behavior would displease him. What had she gotten herself into with Ian? He had some sort of hold on her that wouldn’t allow her to do what was right. What had she become?

  Able interrupted her thoughts. “Are you all right, Mercy?”

  She nodded, but then shook her head. “I miss Noah.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  The lilting strains of the orchestra began as he led her into the complicated steps of the minuet. When the final notes played, Able ushered her to the refreshment table and they chatted about his classes at Harvard that would be resuming soon. Noah and Able had planned to attend Harvard together. But now Able had to go alone. Noah’s death left a void in many lives.

  Able started telling her some amusing stories about college. It only reminded Mercy of why Noah had always found him s
o entertaining.

  A ripple of gasps floated across the room. Mercy glanced in the direction everyone was looking and saw a spectacular sight. Addison Berkeley’s large frame filled the doorway. The man radiated powerful energy that she felt across the room. Hundreds of candles reflected off the silver embroidery on his perfectly tailored ivory suit that showcased his broad shoulders and powerful, muscular body.

  Mr. Berkeley had said he thought he looked ridiculous in the suit. But, he was wrong. He didn’t look absurd. In fact, he looked positively smashing. He must’ve sensed her staring at him for his sharp, blue eyes swung around the room and landed on her.