A Lady of High Regard (8 page)

“Of course you can. I always try to pay for information. It isn’t always possible, but tonight it is.”

The woman looked at the coins for a long minute, then took them and nodded. “We ain’t got any food. Ain’t had any for days. This’ll buy a feast.” She turned and hurried her children out the door before Mia could say another word.

“Are we gonna eat, Mama?” one of the boys asked.

“I reckon we will,” she told him before pulling them out into the night.

Mia sighed. She’d parted with less money than she had often spent on ribbons, and the realization of their desperate situation made her ache.
I don’t know how to help them, Lord,
she prayed.
There’s so much to be done and I feel so insignificant.
Mia pulled on her shawl and made her way outside.

The darkness had deepened and she picked up her pace. At least the rain had stopped, but in its place there was a feeling in the air that made her uneasy. She felt almost as if she were being watched. Tripping over a rough spot, Mia straightened and grabbed her skirt with both hands. It was a completely unacceptable manner in which to walk. A lady was always taught to hold her skirt gracefully with one hand—preferably the right. To hold one’s skirts with both hands was to suggest less than decent breeding. The only time Mia had ever seen it be considered acceptable was when the mud was truly bad.

She rounded the corner and slowed only the tiniest bit. She was less than three blocks from home, but her corsets were preventing her from drawing a deep breath and the heaviness of the night air seemed to drop upon her shoulders like a wet blanket.

What a wretched night.
Mia thought again of the poor Denning woman and her children. They had so little and she had so much. There had to be a way to make things better for them.

When I get home, I’ll try to—

The thought went unfinished. Without warning someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her backward. Mia tried to scream, but her mouth was quickly covered.

CHAPTER 6

“
M
ia. It’s me. Stop screaming. Stop fighting me.”

She didn’t recognize the voice at first, but by the time Garrett repeated his words, she stilled and fell against him. Gasping for air, Mia grew light-headed. “I . . . I . . . think I might faint.”

He turned her in his arms and lifted her. “Just relax and breathe deeply.”

Mia chuckled as she fought to remain conscious. “I can’t . . . draw breath . . . that’s the problem.”

“If you weren’t so tightly corseted, you could breathe,” he countered. “Honestly, why you women wear such contraptions is beyond me.”

“You aren’t . . . supposed to know . . . about such things— much less . . . speak of them,” she said, halting to draw air.

Garrett shook his head and began walking. “I know about a great many things. What I don’t understand, but mean to, is why you have been making these late-night walks.”

Mia felt her breathing even and suddenly became aware that Garrett was holding her—carrying her. “Put me down,” she demanded. She felt safe and warm in his arms, but at the same time there was something else. Something she didn’t understand, and it disturbed her a great deal.

“Are you sure you won’t faint?”

“I’m quite all right—just put me down.”

“And you’ll tell me why you’re out here?”

Mia looked into Garrett’s face. She couldn’t see any detail, but she felt his warm breath against her cheek. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself. People’s lives are at stake.”

“Yours, for one. I could have been a robber or something worse.” He gently put Mia back down and held onto her as she steadied herself.

“You could have been a great many things.” She took hold of his offered arm. “I’m glad, however, that you are simply you—my friend and confidant.”

“So tell me what was so important that you went to church when there is no service or other event going on?”

“I went there to meet a woman. She’s one of the seamen’s wives who lives down near the docks.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you want to meet with someone like that?”

“There are things happening to these women, and I intend to see it stopped. We were gathered one day in Mrs. Hale’s office talking about it. There are several of us who work to bring her stories and publishable pieces. She told us of trouble she’d seen for the seamen’s wives in Boston. She’s working to get Congress to make a law of protection for those women. It caused me to think that some of the same problems were going on here. After all, the river traffic on the Delaware goes out to sea and some of those men are gone for years at a time. Why should Philadelphia be any different than Boston?”

“And what did you find?”

“Something is happening that is most distasteful. I’m not at all sure how to help or how to eliminate the problem.”

“What exactly is the problem?” Garrett tightened his grip on her elbow as they approached Mia’s house. “Tell me, or I won’t let you go.”

She laughed. “Shall you make me stand out here all night?”

“If need be. Mia, this is serious. You could have been killed tonight.”

“It is serious, Garrett. Some of those women are being forced to pay money on debts left behind by their husbands. They can barely earn enough money to buy food and pay rent. Some of them are being forced to . . . well . . . to provide other means of payment—including offering themselves or their children to their debtors.”

Garrett turned her to face him, his fingers digging into her shoulders. “Mia, you need to stay out of this. You cannot be involved in this problem any longer. A situation like this could well see you being forced to do unspeakable things.”

“But someone has to help them. I cannot stand idly by, knowing this is going on in my community.”

“But that isn’t your community. That’s the docks, and those people are not like you.”

“What a snobbish thing to say. They are God’s children, the same as you or I.”

Garrett let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course they are, and I didn’t mean to imply that they weren’t. I don’t even mean to imply they are of a lesser value than we are.”

“Then what are you saying?” she asked, frustrated.

“You are a young woman of good breeding. You are from one of the better families in Philadelphia. Your life here has not prepared you for what they endure. Mia, they have so little, and I know you. You will fret and fuss over how to save them—how to bring them all up to a comfortable standard. But it cannot be done.”

“Why not? Surely there is a way to give them a better life. At least there must be a way to end this tyranny of injustice. We are from a better social class of people; therefore it should be our responsibility to see them fed and properly clothed. To help them have the bare necessities of life.”

“Mia, the poor will always be with us. We cannot make their lives rosy and well ordered.”

“Well, we certainly can’t if we won’t even try, Mr. Wilson.” She jerked away from his hold. “I cannot believe that someone who appears as compassionate and caring as you would begrudge those women a champion. You would strip away all hope they have.”

“Only if that hope is you, Mia. I don’t want to see you hurt in this. This isn’t an affair for a woman to handle.”

“It’s an affair that we should all take into consideration. There is much to be done and too few who recognize the need. I’m disappointed in you, Garrett Wilson. I am angry too and do not wish to further discuss this issue.”

She hurried up the walk to the garden and passed through the gate before Garrett could say another word. He sounded like the same obstinate people Mrs. Hale had come up against in Boston and elsewhere.

“I don’t understand you, Garrett,” she whispered. “I thought you were different. I thought you would realize the importance of this, even if no one else did.”

Garrett felt a deep sense of emptiness after Mia left. He stood for several minutes looking at the gate through which she’d passed into the garden. No doubt she was safely in the house by now. He should simply put the matter behind him and return to his own home.

But I can’t just put this behind me—because she won’t.
He blew out a heavy breath and walked very slowly to the back door of his house. Knowing what she was involving herself in only served to make Garrett more uncomfortable. Mia would see this as a grand cause but would never recognize the danger in which she had placed herself. Those men who were seeking to have their monies repaid would not care that Mia was a lady of high regard. Of course, society as a whole would rise up in protest should something happen to one of the elite, but even then it would only be a nominal effort at best. No, if something happened to cause Mia harm, people would openly detest the matter and speak against it while muttering under their breath that perhaps she’d gotten what she deserved. After all, what woman of means would put herself in such a dangerous position to begin with? What properly brought-up young lady would even dare to dabble in such unacceptable situations?

Garrett entered the kitchen and was surprised to find his father there. A single candle had been lit and placed on the table. The glow afforded Garrett the chance to see that his father was eating milk-soaked bread.

“You gave me a start,” his father said. “What in the world were you doing outside at this hour?”

Garrett sat opposite him at the table. “I went for a walk.” At least that wasn’t a lie. There was no chance he could tell his father what had really happened.

“Did it rain?”

“Yes, but only lightly and not for long.”

“I thought to come down and see if I couldn’t settle my stomach with some milk and bread.”

“Has it troubled you for long?”

His father shrugged. “I’ve not wished to worry anyone, but of late I’ve had a bad case of sour stomach.”

Garrett frowned. “It’s more of a worry to know you’re ailing and not receiving proper care. When did it start?”

His father put down his spoon. “Before Christmas. It’s gradually grown worse. I meant to say something to you, but as I said, I did not wish to cause you concern.”

“You should let a doctor consider the matter. This could be serious.”

His father waved him off. “A doctor considered your mother’s condition and it did little good.”

“Mother was stubborn like you and told no one she was ill until it was too late. You might yet have a chance to treat whatever the malady. Perhaps it’s nothing more serious than eating rich food. But you’ll never know unless you seek the doctor’s opinion.”

Garrett looked at his father and realized for the first time how very thin he appeared. He’d lost a good amount of weight in the last months. Even Mercy had commented the other morning at breakfast how pale he’d been. Garrett hadn’t really thought about it then. His father had attributed his coloring to poor lighting, but Garrett knew the light had been just fine.

“Are you in pain?”

His father said nothing for several minutes. Garrett thought perhaps he’d refuse to discuss the issue further, but finally he spoke.

“Yes. Sometimes the pain is quite intense.” He looked up to meet Garrett’s expression. “I do not want your stepmother to know.”

“Don’t you think that a bit cruel? If something serious is happening to you, she would want to be prepared.”

“She cannot prepare for her future. We must do that. You know this house and everything in it belongs to you. The business is already a partnership, with my share going to you upon my death. Of course there is a yearly stipend to be given to my wife and daughters. But it would never be enough to support their current style of living.”

“I would never see them put from this house. As far as I’m concerned, this is their home. I have even thought of buying my own home of late.”

“I would rather you stayed on—at least for a time. Let us see what might happen with this . . . this problem.”

Garrett shook his head. “Father, I insist you see the doctor tomorrow. We need to know what the problem is. Mercy needs to know. Then I want you to rewrite your will to give your shares of the business to Mercy and the girls. I have more than I will ever need. I have invested my profits wisely and they are paying a good dividend.”

“You are a godly and compassionate man,” his father said, his voice breaking. “I could not have asked for a better son.”

Garrett reached out and touched his father’s hand. “It is by your example that I have become the man I am. Your wife and children have been a blessing to me. I will see them well cared for in the future should you be gone.”

“No man could ask for more.” His father pushed back the bowl and got to his feet. “I will do as you have asked and speak to the doctor. But I beg you, say nothing to your stepmother. She has been so happy of late. I would like to see that sustained for as long as possible.”

“I promise to remain silent for as long as I can,” Garrett replied. “I would do nothing to cause Mercy pain.”

“Thank you. I will retire now.” His father took up a candlestick by the stove and lit the wick. “You have always made me proud, Garrett, but perhaps never so much as this night.”