A Lady of High Regard (29 page)

Ruth quickly assisted Mia from the gown she’d worn to the wedding. “What’s happened, Miss Mia?”

“One of the women has had her son taken from her in demand of rent owed. I cannot believe how outrageously this Mr. Barrill conducts himself, but I do mean to see an end to it.”

“Will you go to her?”

“Yes. I cannot believe the audacity of that man to harm women and children. And Mrs. Smith is a widow. Poor woman. Her son Davy is all she has.”

“Here.” Ruth handed Mia her blouse, then turned to quickly retrieve her skirt. “I hope you’re able to stop them from hurting the boy.”

Mia suddenly remembered the agreement with her father.
But if I delay, things might get much worse, and if I do nothing at all, Mrs. Smith will feel I have deserted her.
Mia did up the buttons of her blouse and continued the internal debate. “Surely he will understand that this needs our immediate attention. I’ll simply go to him and explain the situation and he will help me.” She frowned. “But what if he doesn’t?”

“What’s that, Miss Mia?”

“Nothing. I’m just thinking aloud.”

What if her father wanted to do the sensible thing and turn it over to the police? It would be just like him to leave it in the hands of the authorities, thinking that they would protect Davy and Mrs. Smith. With the corruption of some police officers, Mia felt certain it would take the protest of men in power to see this thing resolved.

Mia made up her mind. She couldn’t tell her father. She couldn’t risk his turning it over to some incompetent who would fail to follow through because it was only a seaman’s wife.

“Look, Ruth, I want you to go to the kitchen. That way, if anyone asks you where I am, you can tell them that you last saw me in my room. It won’t be a lie, and you don’t know where I’m planning to go anyway—at least not exactly.” Mia didn’t want to force the woman to tell a falsehood, but she knew that no one would be happy if they knew where Mia planned to go. Especially Garrett. Why, if he found out, he might never speak to her again.

Mia finished dressing as fast as she could, then raced down the stairs. She didn’t want to waste further time by calling for the carriage, so she determined then and there to walk or run the distance to Mrs. Smith’s.

“It’s not that far,” she muttered aloud. She hurried as quickly as propriety would allow without running; society would never forgive her if she dared to perspire.
Perhaps I should have taken a carriage. The time it would have taken to hitch one surely would have been quicker than my trying to hurry my way to the waterfront.

This time when she turned down the alley to Mrs. Smith’s house, Mia found no one to accost her. They wouldn’t dare, she thought. Her anger served to drive her onward, and she pitied anyone stupid enough to cross her path.

Elsie Smith opened the door to her home. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was mottled in patches of pink and red against pale white skin. “I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“You did the right thing by sending for me,” Mia said, putting her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Now, tell me everything that happened. Start at the beginning.”

“It was Barrill. He was mad that I’d taken in Deborah Denning. Mad that I would dare to refuse his demand to pay higher rent. I showed him my contract and he snatched it out of my hands and ripped it to shreds. Said it meant nothing. Then he told me my husband owed him sixty dollars. Sixty! Imagine that. I couldn’t get sixty dollars in my hands if I worked from now till I died.”

Mia patted her arm. “There, there. We’ll find a way to set this right. What else did Barrill say?”

“He told me it’s what I got for speakin’ my mind and causin’ him problems. He took my Davy and said I had until five o’clock tomorrow to get him his money, otherwise he’ll send Davy out to friends of his in the West Indies.”

“I want to talk to Barrill. Let’s go to him now.”

Mrs. Smith looked at Mia as if she’d lost her mind. “He’ll kill you if you show your face. He knows you, Miss Stanley. He knows who you are. He called you by name when he threatened me. Told me not to be tellin’ you my problems. Said, ‘Your Miss Stanley can’t save you.’ ”

Mia seethed. She strode purposefully to the door. “I may not be able to help all of the women in jeopardy, but I can help you. I can help one person, and that is enough for me. Will you come with me?”

Elsie Smith straightened her shoulders. “I’ll go.”

On the street, Mia spotted a policeman and motioned to him. “I need you to accompany us. We have a problem with a Jasper Barrill.”

“What kind of problem could a lady such as yourself have with the likes of Barrill?” the man questioned. He stepped in line with Mia’s march but pressed to know more. “I need to know what this is all about.”

“He has taken this woman’s son. He has threatened to sell the boy into slavery for a debt he claims to hold against Mrs. Smith. It’s a false debt, however. He has no proof and has simply done this because he’s angry at me.” She turned to face the man, but never broke her stride. “Do you understand?”

He grinned. “Did you refuse his attentions? Is that what this is all about?”

“Goodness no.” The very thought of Jasper Barrill showing her any sort of attention was distasteful. “He’s angry at me for exposing his ill deeds. He’s been abusing the women in this district. Forcing them to pay monies they do not owe, and when they cannot pay, forcing them to give other things. He’s taken liberties.”

The police officer said nothing as he followed Mrs. Smith and Mia into the dimly lit confines of Barrill’s office. The man sat behind his desk as if expecting them. “Ah, Mrs. Smith. I thought I told you to leave Miss Stanley out of this. You don’t listen any better than your brat.”

“If you’ve harmed him . . .” Mrs. Smith rushed toward the desk, but the police officer held her back.

“There, now, Mrs. Smith, don’t be threatening the man with harm. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“Officer, this woman is clearly distraught. I understand her condition and pity her. However, her husband died, leaving me a debt of sixty dollars. She cannot pay it and has refused to pay anything at all for these months since her husband’s demise. I was forced to take the only action available to me. I took her son in lieu of payment. However, I gave her one final chance. I told her if she had even half of the money to me by five o’clock tomorrow, I would give her boy back.”

“That’s not true. You never said anything about half of the money.” Mrs. Smith pushed away from the officer and pounded her hands on Barrill’s desk. “You said sixty dollars. I don’t believe my husband even owed you sixty dollars. You’ve got no proof of such a debt.”

“Ah, but I do. I have this—a contract agreed to by your husband.” Barrill held up a piece of paper. “It was witnessed by two other men.”

“My husband didn’t read or write.” Mrs. Smith puffed up as if she’d caught him in a lie.

“Which is exactly why it’s his mark,” Barrill said, putting the paper in front of them. “The X was his doing, but as you can see the written document explains the rest.”

Mia stepped forward and picked up the paper and read it aloud. “ ‘I, Donovan Smith, do hereby declare that I am pledged to repay a debt of sixty dollars owed to Mr. Jasper Barrill.’ ” It was dated and signed by two witnesses.

“I do not believe this paper is legitimate,” Mia declared.

“Officer, I am a patient man, but as you can see, that debt was owed me for two years. I now find my own resources stretched, and because of this I must collect what is owed me. The man died last winter so I now seek recompense from his widow.”

“Seems perfectly legal to me, ladies.” The policeman turned to Mia with a sympathetic look. “He has a right to be paid.”

“By stealing this woman’s child?”

“The boy is nearly twelve. He will be indentured until the debt is paid. Then he may return to his mother.” Barrill took back the paper and folded it very slowly. “I suppose I could take the mother, but then the boy would be left with no one.”

“You’ll take neither one. I’ll pay you the sixty pounds,” Mia said angrily. “Then I intend to turn over all the evidence I have on you to my father and see you put in jail for the rest of your life. Your kind isn’t welcome in Philadelphia.”

Barrill’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. It wasn’t very noticeable, but Mia instantly saw that her words had hit their mark.

“Bring me the money by tomorrow.” The statement was delivered in a low menacing tone. Mia felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. This man meant to do her harm. She could feel it.

“Very well. I will return with my father, and perhaps others will join us as well.”

“As you wish.”

“What I wish—what I demand—is the return of Davy Smith. Right now.”

“I’m holding him as collateral.”

Mia shook her head. “He and his mother aren’t going to run away, if that’s what you’re worried about. I told you I’d bring the money, and I’m a woman of my word—in all things.” She narrowed her gaze, hoping to look as determined as she felt. “I want that boy brought here now so that he can remain safe. If he stays with you, he might well cause himself harm in trying to escape.”

“Seems fair enough,” the officer said, nodding. “Why don’t you let the boy go home with his mother?”

Barrill appeared to barely contain his rage. “Very well.” He left the room and returned about five minutes later with Davy Smith in hand. “As you can see, he is just as you saw him last.” He pushed the boy toward Mrs. Smith.

Davy clung to his mother. “Mama! He tied me up and gagged my mouth. I heard you out here, but I couldn’t call to you.”

“You gagged him?” Mia asked in disgust.

Barrill shrugged. “I could hardly have him screaming the whole night. Now get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow for my payment.”

Outside, Mia was surprised when Mrs. Smith turned and hugged her close. “I don’t know what to say. I cannot hope to pay you back.”

“Nor should you worry about it. My father can afford such a donation. If it keeps Mr. Barrill from troubling you, it will be well worth it.”

“I’m afraid it’ll only put a stop to it until that awful man comes up with something else,” Mrs. Smith declared.

“Now look, go home and lock your doors. Open them to no one. I will come tomorrow after church and bring my father. Perhaps I’ll bring another man I know as well. Together they will certainly see Mr. Barrill dealt a blow of justice.”

“Thank you again. My Davy is all I have. He’s everything to me.” She hugged the boy close. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mia turned to thank the police officer and found he’d already gone on his way. The dusky twilight skies seemed ominous, even threatening, as she began the walk back to Market Street. Shadows draped the alleyways and corners of every building, and the number of people wandering the streets had increased since her march to Barrill’s. The excitement of the cause had powered her forward when she’d first come to the docks, but now that energy was gone, and in its wake was the fearful reminder of Barrill’s angry face.

She picked up her step and tried to put aside such thoughts. They would serve no good purpose. Losing her nerve now would not help anyone.

She had nearly made it to Fifth Street when a carriage pulled up alongside her and came to an abrupt halt. Mia looked frantically in both directions as the door opened and a man came flying from the interior.

Opening her mouth to scream, Mia barely registered that the man was Garrett Wilson before he took her arm and yanked her back toward the carriage.

“Are you out of your mind? I thought surely you’d learned your lesson about risking your life. Get in the carriage!” He pushed her up unceremoniously.

Mia fell against the leather seat and tried to right herself before Garrett plopped down in the seat beside her.

“I can explain,” she started.

“I don’t want to hear it. You’ll just fabricate some story about how you were the only one who could take care of the problem at hand.”

“Well, I was. I received an urgent message. A woman’s child was in jeopardy.”

“And you were going to single-handedly save the day. How exhausting it must be to be Mia Stanley—defender of the downtrodden.”

“You have no right to take that tone with me, Garrett Wilson.

I did a good thing. I saved a boy from being sent into indentured servitude. I don’t expect you to understand—especially not now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted.

“You’ve changed.” She looked at him hard. “I used to think I knew you. I thought you cared about people. Now you’re just consumed with your own problems and thoughts.”

“I’m concerned with keeping you alive, if that’s what you mean.”

“You don’t care about me—you only want to control me. Now stop this carriage.”

“No. I want you to sit there and be quiet. When I think of what might have happened today . . . Your poor mother and father would never have forgiven themselves for allowing you such liberty. Why they ever agreed to let you go back to
Godey’s
I’ll never know.”

Mia gritted her teeth and clung to the carriage side as Garrett took the corner onto Walnut much too quickly. “They let me go back because they trust me to use good judgment—while you only trust me to make mistakes. Now stop this carriage.”

“I said no. You need to learn to stop interfering. I’m going to see you safely home. Then I’m going to explain to your father what you’ve been up to tonight.”

“I plan to tell him myself. I need his help.”

“You should have thought of that sooner.”

Mia’s anger took over. She was no longer capable of rational thought. “Garrett, you are . . . you are . . .” She let out a gasp of frustration. “I cannot believe that you could be so cruel. I cannot believe I’ve fallen in love with someone so heartless.”

He pulled back on the reins so hard that Mia slammed back into her seat. Seeing her opportunity to escape, she pushed open the carriage door and jumped to the ground. “I don’t ever want to see you again!”

CHAPTER 23