01 - Captured Dreams Read online

“I think not, Miss Middleton,” Mrs. Green immediately objected. “There is a cool breeze coming in off the harbor.”

  “The garden is protected, and I shall be comfortable enough in my shawl.”

  “You’ll not be going out today, miss,” the woman declared. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day. The doctor has prescribed rest, and ‘tis my duty to see that you get it. You shall retire to your bedchamber for the afternoon.”

  “You’ll not tell me what to do, ma’am,” Helena retorted.

  “Indeed I shall.”

  As the quarrel between the two women escalated, Portia and four servants looked on silently. If she had any lingering doubts that taking her mother away from this place was the right thing, those doubts now evaporated.

  “This young woman has been brought here to read to me,” Helena protested strenuously, her voice cracking. “But you have given her no chance to spend any time with me.”

  Mrs. Green gestured to one of the servant’s, who tried to help her mistress to her feet. Helena shook off the woman’s touch.

  “Do not worry about Miss Edwards,” Mrs. Green retorted, motioning a second servant to assist the first one. “She is being paid more than enough for coming here.”

  “I care nothing about payment. I wanted her here for a reason, and you are determined to ruin that for me.” Frustrated, Helena twisted in the chair to get away from the two sets of hands. “I want her here to spend time with me. Just the two of us. I want to hear her read.”

  “There will be time enough for that tomorrow.”

  Portia watched the housekeeper go quickly to a side table and pour something into a cup.

  “Tomorrow you will say the same thing. And the day after. You do not want her here. Now you are determined not to give me time with her.”

  “You are becoming hysterical,” Mrs. Green said threateningly.

  “I am not. I am perfectly well.” Helena’s gaze searched the room, unable to focus on anything. She stood up unsteadily. “I am ready to go outside now. I believe ‘tis a sunny day. I could feel the warmth coming through the window this morning. I know the perfect place in the garden where I should like to sit and hear Miss Edwards read.”

  “Not today.” Cup in hand, the housekeeper approached. “’Tis time you took your medication. Then you shall rest.”

  “I do not care to rest. I get plenty of rest.” She backed away and stumbled against a chair. The servants’ hands reached out to steady her, but she pushed them away. “Do not touch me. None of you. I do not need any of you.” She took another step and put a hand on the back of the chair to steady herself.

  “Miss Edwards…Portia, where are you?”

  “Here, Miss Middleton.” She moved toward her, ignoring Mrs. Green’s severe look.

  Helena extended a hand toward her. “Come and help me. I want you to walk me to the garden. I am fond of sun. Bring your book. I want none of you to follow us.”

  Mrs. Green stepped into Portia’s path and pushed the cup she was holding into Helena’s hand. “As you wish, milady. I shall let you have your way for today. Just drink this, and you can go out.”

  Portia had to restrain herself from voicing her objection when her mother took the cup. There was no need. A second later the cup flew across the room, shattering into a hundred pieces as it hit the marble hearth.

  “You ungrateful wretch!” Mrs. Green snapped, taking hold of Helena’s arm and motioning for the other servants to restrain her. “How dare you?”

  “No! Do not touch me.”

  “See here, Mrs. Green,” Portia cried out, trying to get around her.

  “Let me go. Portia…please help me.”

  As Portia reached out for the struggling woman, Mrs. Green grabbed her arm sharply and spun her around. “You interfere here, and I will make certain that this is the last time you ever step foot inside this house again. I care not a whit how influential you think your friends are, Miss Edwards. There is only one person in charge of Miss Middleton. And that is I.”

  “Portia!” The two women were practically dragging Helena from the room.

  “Tomorrow,” Portia managed to call out over the uproar. “I shall be back for you tomorrow.”

  As her mother went out of the room, Mrs. Green whirled on Portia.

  “Do not incite her to hysteria again, Miss Edwards.”

  Portia stared at her, dumbfounded by the accusation.

  “You will leave now,” the older woman said, turning and following the wailing woman down the corridor.

  ****

  Leaving Admiral Middleton’s mansion on foot, Portia glanced at the stacked muskets by the gate house. The four guards recognized her from this morning, when she had come in with Captain Turner. She exchanged some pleasantries as she passed through, for she needed every advantage she could garner for what she was now planning.

  She had not left the house before deciding that she could no longer wait. Portia had been upset enough to go after Mrs. Green, throw her on her scrawny rump, and run off with Helena. Knowing, however, that a dozen steps was as far as she would get away had stopped her.

  Her original plan was again brewing in her mind. Everything had to happen quickly, though. She could not tolerate leisurely rides with Captain Turner every morning and night going back and forth from the mansion. She was not about to sit through any more bullying of her mother, either. And she was terrified of meeting Admiral face-to-face. The possibility that something about her could trigger some recollection or recognition in him was a risk she did not want to take.

  Portia just wanted to take her mother and leave for England. Now. Today. And though he’d probably need a great deal of convincing, there was only one person she knew who could help her.

  By the time she arrived at his business offices on Long Wharf, her shoes and clothes were dusty, she had removed her hat, and she knew she must look a fright. But she was past caring. Portia was relieved when the clerk recognized her.

  “I am very sorry, Miss Edwards, but Mr. Pennington is not in the office at present.”

  “Do you expect him later, Sean?” she asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know, miss,” he replied with a shrug. “He was not in at all, this morning, so I cannot tell you when he is planning to come in.”

  “Do you know anything of his schedules? Perhaps I can catch up with him somewhere?”

  “Sorry, miss.” The young man shook his head earnestly.

  A door behind him opened, and Portia saw Nathaniel Muir step out of his office. “Well, Miss Edwards. You honor our humble offices.”

  “Mr. Muir,” she said. “I do apologize for the intrusion, but I need to speak to Mr. Pennington.”

  “If I am not being too forward, may I ask what it pertains to?”

  “’Tis…” She searched for words, trying to come up with a logical explanation, with anything that might make sense. She waved her hand, hoping at least to come up with a convincing lie, but nothing came.

  “I am afraid I can only say ‘tis personal,” she finally croaked.

  She must have looked even more desolate than she had sounded, for Muir gave her a sympathetic look and opened his office door all the way. “Why not come in. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

  Portia thought of Mary’s objections the first time she’d been here, the warning about propriety. All of that was absolutely the last of her concerns now.

  Inside, he offered her a seat. She wasn’t aware how weary she was until she sat down.

  “My apologies to bother you, Mr. Muir, but is there a way you can get a message to your partner that I need to see him?”

  “I’m certain he would be rather difficult to get hold of at this moment, but I would certainly be delighted to deliver a message when he returns.” He cocked his head slightly. “ But is there anything I can help you with?”

  Portia hesitated, but then decided to test her luck. “I need to speak with Mr. Pennington about securing passage…to England.”

  “Pass
age to England?”

  “Yes.”"> “Yes.ckquote>

  A moment of silent scrutiny passed, and Portia tried to sit still. Though partners and apparent friends, Nathaniel Muir did not have his friend’s surly disposition. On the other hand, she was not fooled by his quiet approach and boyish features. He appeared to have mastered the gullible look, but there was a shrewdness that lurked just beneath the surface.

  “Is this passage for yourself, may I ask?”

  “Yes. For me,” she replied. “My situation has changed here in Boston. I am no longer in the household of Reverend and Mrs. Higgins.”

  “This change came about very suddenly.”

  “Yes, I was able to find a place to live, however. And I found a new position at Admiral Middleton’s house.” She had told Pierce what the position entailed, and she wondered now if Muir knew, as well. “Unfortunately, that situation will not work out. Whatever I thought I could accomplish working there, I have since learned was a mistake.”

  “I am sorry to hear that.”

  Portia let out a weary sigh. “There is simply no way that I can continue on there. That is why I am in desperate need to get back to England, preferably to Wales. You see, I am certain that Lady Primrose, the benefactor of the school I attended, would be willing to hire me as one of her teachers.” Portia stared at the weave of the fabric of her skirt, unwilling to look up. “I…I have a little money, but due to my present financial situation, I was hoping to make an arrangement where I could pay for the crossing after arriving at Wales. I am certain that Lady Primrose would reimburse all the expenses of the journey. ”

  Finally, Portia looked in embarrassment at the man across the desk. “I am sorry. I have the terrible tendency to talk too much. I did not mean to burden you with my troubles.”

  She began to stand, but he waved her back into her chair.

  “Please, Miss Edwards. There is no need for apologies.” He shook his head understandingly. “I would be happy to explain all of this to my partner. And I am certain we can find some way to accommodate you. But you appear to be in such haste to leave Boston, if I am not mistaken?”

  “I am quite…well, anxious.” Portia said quietly. “Many things are pulling at me. My financial concerns are primary. My savings is small and—”

  “We are not so hard-hearted. We can make some arrangement about that.”

  “No, sir. I cannot accept charity.” Portia reddened. She sounded worse with each passing moment. “But another reason why I should like to leave as quickly as I can is that since Lady Primrose is not expecting me. I need to arrive in Wales by the first part of summer, or she will have left for Scotland. I know from a recent letter from her that she is planning a journey there. If I don’t reach England before she leaves, I shall be as helpless there as I am here until she gets back.”

  “That is quite understandable.”

  “I do not know how much Mr. Pennington has explained to you about my recent discovery…or at least my search…”

  His expression gave nothing away. Portia decided her best chance at convincing him lay in talking, explaining.

  “May I speak to you in confidence, sir?”

  “Of course, Miss Edwards.”

  “Thank you. I…I was under the impression that Miss Middleton might be my mother. That was my reason for securing that position. I wished to spend more time with her. Perhaps get to know her. But after today, I know that there is no point in it. The housekeeper that has charge of her is a bully and a tyrant. ‘Tis too painful to watch what goes on there.” Her voice wavered, and Portia made no attempt to hide her distress. “I much prefer the strong image of her that I had in my mind to the frail spirit that I encountered there.”

  Portia brushed away a tear and looked up. Nathaniel was leaning forward in his chair. Concern was etched in his handsome feature.

  “I am certain we can help you, Miss Edwards. I need to do some checking into the schedules and the space available on our departing ships. Pierce is the one who usually sees to those matters. But I promise to get back to you very soon. Now, if you would just let me know where I can get hold of you, I shall send you a message as soon as I have an answer.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The evening was steadily encroaching, and light was failing inside the silversmith’s shop. The air inside was stifling from the heat of the forge, in spite of the open doors and windows. Trying to ignore it, Pierce busied himself inspecting the shoe buckles he had been handed. In a moment the young apprentice went out the door, however, to deliver a wrapped and crated pitcher to an address on nearby North Square.

  The short stocky silversmith approached him immediately. “What news, sir.”

  “My ship, the Lothian, is anchored off Newport,” Pierce told the man. “Tomorrow night, the tide will be coming in. When ‘tis dark enough, they’ll make the run past the lighthouse up into the bay. You shall need at least three longboats to take what you need. You can get them out of Bristol. You know our friends there.”

  “Aye, and we’ll have no trouble bringing them up from there. But how are ye going to slip by the arrogant bastard commanding the Gaspee, if ye don’t mind my asking?”

  “We have already planned a distraction for our friend, Lieutenant Dudingston.”

  The silversmith flashed with a quick set of white teeth. “I cannot wait to hear about that.”

  “You shall, Paul. Everyone shall hear soon enough.” Pierce studied the fine workmanship on the buckles. “Beautiful piece of work. How much do I owe you for them?”

  The master craftsman smiled, holding up both hands. “Yer money is no good here, sir. We shall see ye tomorrow night.”

  Pocketing the buckles, Pierce left the shop and headed directly for Long Wharf. A stiff breeze off the water brought with it the smell of the sea—something that he was going to get plenty of over the next couple of months. He had made up his mind. Once tit thei>Lothian’s illicit cargo was transferred, they wouldn’t be sailing around the cape to Boston. If need be, Nathaniel could use the excuse of not finding any customer for the molasses that the Lothian was carrying. Instead, they would set sail for England.

  And Pierce was going back on the ship himself.

  As he went along the street, passing tradesmen and shopkeepers, coffee houses and taverns, he drank in the sounds of the street vendors and carters and inhaled the familiar smells of the chop houses and the bakeries. Pierce knew he was going to miss much about his adopted city, but he told himself that he was coming back. This place had become home, and whatever troubles lay ahead, he wanted to be part of it.

  Pierce had a fleeting thought of stopping to say goodbye to Portia, but he knew that Nathaniel was waiting for him at their offices. They had seen each other only momentarily when he’d arrived back in Boston a couple of hours ago, and there was much to be done in the office and at his own house before he left for Newport again tonight.

  On the Long Wharf, the shops were beginning to close their doors. The day’s work was over. Upstairs in their offices, Sean was still at his high desk, hard at work. Pierce shook the hand of the young man, telling him that he knew Sean would do well.

  Nathaniel had been hard at work, as well. He already had ready the books that the ship’s master of the Lothian would need to hand over once they arrived in Scotland. The expense of the crossing would be paid for by the arms they were unloading tomorrow. Still, the reports would be needed to account for the less than full hold of the ship. Pierce was not too concerned about the customs officials, however, on that side of the Atlantic.

  There were other documents that the two of them had to go through, as well. They had to discuss items having to do with the business, since there were transactions that Pierce had begun but Nathaniel needed to finish.

  Ledger books and maps and sheets of paper cluttered Pierce’s desk in no time.

  “What would you think if I asked you to take a paying passenger back with you aboard the Lothian?”

  Nathaniel’s unexpected questio
n made Pierce look up from his desk and glance curiously at his friend.

  “I must correct that,” Nathaniel added. “A passenger who shall be making good on the cost of passage upon arrival.”

  “I would think you’ve lost your mind. The Lothian shall not be entering any port here. We shall not be carrying any passengers.”

  Nathaniel sat on the edge of the desk. “Even someone who is desperate to go? Someone that I believe you might be slightly partial to?”

  There was a slight jump in his pulse. Pierce attributed it to spending more than twelve hours on horseback in the past day and getting less than a couple of hours sleep. “When was she here?”

  “This afternoon.”

  “What about her position? All that business about spending time with her mother?”

  “It took her one day to realize that she cannot do it, apparently. She came here directly from the Admiral’s house. She was nearly frantic when you were not here. Using my undeniable charm, I was able to get her tell me what she wanted. She was hoping that you would help her to get back to Wales. She has decided that she wants to fly back to the snug little nest of Lady Primrose.”

  Pierce glanced at all the paperwork that he still needed to go through, at everything else that still needed sorting in his office. He was trying to stuff a fortnight of preparations into a few short hours.

  “I do not need this distraction now.”

  “Have no fear. I shall arrange it so that she will be there when you are ready to sail. You do not need to concern yourself with any of the details.”

  “Nathaniel, the woman is too unpredictable. Knowing her, she will start a mutiny on the ship, and we’ll end up in China or Madagascar. She is trouble, I’m telling you.”

  “But you can handle her. The same way that you have handled her here.”

  Pierce straightened up and ran a tired hand down his face.

  “If you were here and listened to her tale of woe, you would have agreed to take her along. She has no money, but she is desperate to go. At the same time, she was too proud to accept charity.” Nathaniel lowered his voice. “And despite the fact that she must have guessed by now at the connection between you and the notorious Captain MacHeath, she made no attempt to use that to her advantage.”