Blessing (29 page)

JANUARY 19, 1849

Answering a quiet knock, Blessing opened the back door of the orphanage and found Ducky Hughes standing there. “Come in.”

The subdued woman followed her into the kitchen, and with a nod to the cook, Blessing requested tea and cookies for their guest. Ducky sat down at the table, looking nervous, more nervous than before. What was the matter?

“I’ll go get Danny,” Blessing said, hoping this would calm the woman. She returned in a few moments with the baby in her arms. She sat adjacent to Ducky. The woman was sipping her tea and nibbling a cookie, obviously tense. But she smiled as soon as Blessing turned Danny toward her.

“Oh, he’s getting chubby. And he looks good.” Ducky drew in a deep breath of relief.

“He’s growing fast,” Blessing agreed, noting that Ducky still seemed restless. “I want thee to know that I’ve started the legal process to adopt Danny as my own.”

Ducky looked stunned. “Why would you do that?”

Blessing tried to come up with an explanation. “I don’t know. I’ve just felt drawn to him from the very first night. I had always planned on adopting a few of the children. Danny will be the first.” She could look forward to having a family of her own, not living a completely solitary life.

Ducky blinked away sudden tears. “I don’t know what I can say but thank you.”

The cook excused herself and left with her shopping basket.

Ducky looked around furtively and lowered her voice. “Are we alone?”

So Ducky was indeed going to tell her what was wrong.

Blessing glanced behind her and nodded. “Since it’s raining, the nurses and children are in the parlor, drawing pictures and playing jacks.”

Ducky leaned forward and lowered her voice even more. “I came to see Danny, but I also wanted to warn you.” The woman paused and looked around again as if fearing to be overheard. “Smith is becoming . . . I don’t know how to put it. He’s always been bad, but now he’s worse somehow.”

Blessing stiffened.

Ducky sipped her tea and set the cup down. “His mistress left him, poor girl. I don’t know how she managed to get away, but ever since she left, he’s been really . . . dangerous,” Ducky said, shrugging.

Blessing had known there might be reprisals over what she’d done.

“He’s been heard saying things about you. My man, the one who protects me—” she looked down as if in shame—“he heard Smith’s got it in for you. He told me because he
knows you took in Danny and knows I wouldn’t want anythin’ to happen to you. My man says for you to watch out comin’ down to the docks. Smith might try something. He’s dangerous,” Ducky repeated.

Dangerous. Yes, Smith could be dangerous.

“I don’t know why he should think you had anything to do with Jewel leavin’ him, but . . .” Once more the woman shrugged.

Blessing also could think of no verifiable link between herself and Jewel’s disappearance. She was sure she’d covered her tracks, though Smith no doubt had his suspicions. She was a person he had not been able to twist to his purposes, in spite of his every effort. And she certainly stuck in his craw, though he couldn’t have been more successful in destroying her husband. It was through Richard’s periods of confession and promises to change and not return to the docks for long nights of drinking and worse that she’d first learned of Smith. The man had actually had the effrontery to attend Richard’s funeral and speak to her in veiled and insulting terms.

But her husband wasn’t the only young gentleman Smith had ruined. He seemed to target them in particular. Over the years his ability to profit and coerce had only grown—to the downfall of many like Richard Brightman.

Now, however, she’d foiled Smith’s attempt to ensnare Ramsay. Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised that he believed her capable of interfering in his other enterprises as well.

She came out of her thoughts. “Thank thee, Ducky. I’ll be cautious. I won’t come down to the docks alone.”

“You might just stay away. I noticed you ain’t been down for a while.”

Blessing sighed and felt the pinch of guilt. “I’ve been busy with other matters. Tell thy protector that I will heed his advice. I thank him.”

“Good. I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you.”

Blessing smiled and began to distract them both by telling Ducky about her nephew’s progress in rolling over and smiling. The woman stayed for about an hour before leaving. Holding Danny, Blessing remained on the back porch, praying for wisdom on how to proceed. Danny prattled, watching a bird on a nearby branch.

The only person she really wanted to accompany her to the docks was Gerard Ramsay. But should she ask? She knew she shouldn’t, if only because she so wanted him with her in this, wanted him with her—period.

FEBRUARY 14, 1849

Tippy and Stoddard were giving their first dinner party on Valentine’s Day. Blessing had guessed that Ramsay would attend, and here he was, right beside her at their dining table. Yet he sat as removed from her as if she didn’t exist. She tried not to show how awkward this felt, tried to relax and act as if nothing between them had altered.

If she didn’t know Tippy better, she would have suspected her of matchmaking. Blessing sincerely regretted the events and decisions—hers and his—that had drawn Ramsay more deeply into her life, her work. And obviously he was regretting them too. But she couldn’t have let him go to destruction and done nothing. That she didn’t regret.

Across from her sat Stoddard’s mother and Tippy’s parents.
Her father had won the legislative seat and had been recently sworn in, and now he was back from his inaugural session.

“I’m so glad your father didn’t have to miss your first dinner party,” Mrs. Foster was saying.

Everyone made agreeable sounds at this. Gerard’s voice, so low and near, caused the hair on Blessing’s neck to prickle. She hoped this special awareness of him would fade. Unfortunately the attraction to him was so similar to what she’d felt for Richard before they married.

The pleasant, inconsequential social dinner conversation progressed, and Blessing made suitable innocuous comments as necessary while Gerard remained impervious beside her. Her hand underneath the tablecloth so wanted to reach for his.

“The treaty with Mexico ending this dreadful war has certainly altered matters in the upcoming presidential election,” Stoddard observed to his father-in-law as the second course was served.

Blessing listened with only half her attention. Over the past several weeks, on a number of occasions, she’d started to go to Prudence Mather’s in order to consult with Ramsay over Ducky’s warning about Smith. But each time she’d turned around and gone home. Somehow she hadn’t been able to ask him to go with her to the docks nor to resume her usual independent nightly rounds. Some invisible barrier was holding her back. However, she wondered if she should warn him in spite of her worries.

“What are we to do with the vast southwestern desert we’ve won?” Ramsay challenged. “Was it worth the fifteen million dollars we paid?”

Though acutely aware of the sharp edge to his voice, Blessing couldn’t let this go undisputed. “California is not to be despised. We now have gained Pacific ports,” she countered, barely glancing at Ramsay.

She forged on, his intense gaze making her more and more uncomfortable. “But I’m worried what the Democrats in Congress may do to extend slavery into new territories.” Her last few words trembled and she hated letting her discomfort show.

Maybe her preoccupation with Ramsay was growing all out of proportion because of his visit to Boston and his subsequent avoidance of her. Perhaps if she simply had it out with Ramsay, she could go on with her work. She should ask Ramsay to go with her to the quay. He would tell her to stop going to the docks, to stop her ridiculous activities. They would argue, and then she could break free of him.

Smith’s threat had made her cautious, even a bit fearful to proceed with her work. But what did that have to do with her fascination with Ramsay? She didn’t need him to go with her to the docks. If necessary, she could hire a bodyguard. Her thoughts chased each other around in confusion.
Stop.

At that moment, as she lifted her napkin, their hands brushed. Waves of awareness tested her composure.
I must break free of this foolish attraction.

“Yes,” Tippy said, taking them back to the vast new lands just acquired from Mexico. “And most important of all—will these territories enter the country as slave or free?”

Gerard found himself falling silent. He knew it shouldn’t bother him, especially considering the two women in question, but the participation of ladies in a political discussion still threw him off his stride. But more than that, the widow’s presence right beside him was weakening his ability to concentrate. His hand still vibrated from their chance touch. Maybe if he just stopped avoiding her, faced her, he could get over this preoccupation with her and move on with his life.

At the end of the dinner, Stoddard unexpectedly stood and lifted his glass. “We are going to have a special toast tonight.”

Tippy blushed a bright, rosy pink.

“This news is just for the family and our closest friend—” Stoddard nodded toward Blessing—“but Tippy and I are expecting a blessed event before the end of the year.”

Gerard sat, stunned.

The ladies all hurried to hug and kiss Tippy.

Gerard shook himself free from his stupefaction and rose. He lifted his glass. “To the blessed event.” Another unwelcome proof his friend was moving deeper into family life, leaving Gerard behind, solitary, alone.

The end of the evening came soon. While Stoddard walked his mother to her cottage and Tippy’s parents rode away in their carriage, Ramsay stepped out into the chill night.

Blessing was waiting by the front door for her carriage to arrive. “Ramsay, may I drop thee at home?”

He’d heard the invitation force itself through her lips—out of social obligation, no doubt—and he didn’t want to accept.

His own words came before he could stop them. “Thank you.” He walked right beside her, his rampant senses surging to life. He helped her into the carriage and followed her inside. At her command it rumbled away.

Concealing all he was feeling, Gerard sat like a statue. Blessing sat opposite him just as stiffly.

“We haven’t spoken privately since thy return,” she said finally.

“I’ve been busy with business.”
And preoccupied with my father. And avoiding you.

“I’m glad you accepted my offer of a ride. I’ve heard some disturbing news . . . about Smith.”

He stirred at the mention of the man. “He accosted me outside your home that December night I bid you . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to mention more about the evening he’d nearly kissed her. “He accused me of having something to do with his mistress disappearing.”

“Thee knew that might come.”

“Yes, and I stuck to the truth. His mistress came, left by the back door, and I don’t know where she went.”

“Good.” She looked away.

“I take it you know where she went.”

“I only know she is no longer in Ohio,” Blessing said, obviously choosing her words with care.

Her fencing sparked his temper. “I’m not going to tell Mr. Smith—”