A Lady of Hidden Intent (33 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious

BOOK: A Lady of Hidden Intent
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“What do you plan to do?” Winifred asked, getting to her feet.

“Go after her. What else?” He grinned and gave Mrs. Clarkson a brief bow. “Thank you for your help.”

CHAPTER 25

C
arter sent for Leander and together the trio tried to figure out the best plan for going after Catherine. Grateful to find his parents preoccupied with several New Year’s Eve parties, Carter arranged supper with Cook. They sat down to the meal at exactly six-thirty, none of them really able to focus on the food.

“It’s too late to go yet tonight,” Winifred declared. “I don’t know what the train schedule might be, but the trip takes hours and snows may cause further delays. You wouldn’t get into New York City until the early-morning hours at this rate. I think you should wait and take the morning train. That will allow you to be well rested.”

“Hardly,” Carter said. “I doubt I will sleep a wink tonight. I don’t know where she is or if she’s safe. How could I sleep warm and comfortably in my bed without being sure of her circumstance?”

The servants offered them roasted lamb and mint jelly, along with creamed peas, baked squash, and a bevy of other delicious foods. Carter took an ample portion, but his heart was far from the meal.

“Still, I think Winifred makes a good point,” Leander replied.

“Better to arrive in the afternoon. We will have better luck with transportation to the boardinghouse.”

“I suppose so.” Carter pushed the food around his plate.

“It will also allow me to have a little time with Winifred,”

Leander said, smiling. “After all, if I’m to leave for England as soon as Captain Marlowe is ready to return, I will be gone for some time. I want to have every possible moment with my betrothed.” He gave her a wink.

Carter tried not to allow the feelings of jealousy to overtake his sensible mind. He needed to plan wisely for Catherine’s sake.

“When is Marlowe due back?”

“He told me he would dock in New York on or around the fourth, barring complications. He plans to leave again on the seventh and will take me with him.”

“I can hardly bear to think of your being gone for so long.

Weeks and weeks,” Winifred said with a sigh. She pushed back her plate as if she’d lost her appetite. “I’m blessed that you care enough to do this for Catherine, but I’m selfish enough to wish it already said and done.”

“Travel is much faster these days,” Leander said, trying to encourage her. “You needn’t fret. There are good trains in England,

I am told. And if all goes as well as we hope, Mr. Newbury will be near the western coast and ready for his trip to America.”

“But what if he doesn’t wish to come here?” Winifred questioned.

“What will you do then?”

“Remind him that his daughter is in America,” Lee said with a smile.

“But if Catherine knows you are going to England to bring her father back, she will insist on going with you,” Winifred said with conviction.

“Then perhaps we will not tell her,” Carter replied. He knew he sounded selfish, but he didn’t want her exposed to more pain and misery, should the duke have been unable to complete the matter of setting Newbury free.

“Better still, we’ll just be honest with her and remind her that her father could be on his way to America without waiting for my arrival. It’s a possibility, and if she accompanies me and that happens, there will be no one here to greet him.”

“That’s true enough.” Carter imagined the fight Catherine would give, but he knew this explanation would also calm her.

“I’ll pray for you all without ceasing,” Winifred said, shaking her head. “I’ll pray first and foremost that you will find Catherine and the Shays and that they are safe. Then I’ll pray that you be wise in your choices of words and deeds. I don’t want anyone to suffer because of further deceit or secrets. We’ve seen where that has gotten us.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest we would be less than honest with Catherine,” Carter said, feeling a little guilty. “I just . . . well . . .

I don’t want her to go. For myself, as well as the situation Lee stated.”

Winifred nodded. “I know. Just as I wish for you both not to go.” She smiled. “I suppose I shall just busy myself with plans for our wedding.”

“That would be a very worthy project,” Lee said with a wink.

“That way we can marry as soon as I return.”

“Then that is what I shall do,” she said, not sounding at all like the shy young woman she’d been just a couple of months ago.

Catherine finished mending a shirt and put it aside. Her neck ached from hours bent over the pieces. The men in the boardinghouse had been happy to have her help in repairing their clothes, even if they had to part with a little of their drinking money. Two of the men staying at the house were fishermen, whose clothes were more ragged than any Catherine had seen in a long time. She worked her skills to see the shirts put into better order, but it hadn’t been easy. One of the other gentlemen had actually asked her to make him a new shirt, and she had immediately gone to work on that project. Now the creation was nearly done.

Getting up, she stretched and suppressed a yawn. It was New Year’s Eve, and once again it served only to mark yet another year without her father. Now they didn’t even know where he’d gone, and Catherine had no idea where to get answers.

Downstairs there was a bit of a party going on. Mrs. Samuelson encouraged the revelry, telling everyone that 1856 was destined to be an exceptional year. Why she felt that way, Catherine didn’t know, but she hoped it might be true.

“Catherine?” Selma’s voice called from beyond the door.

“Come in,” Catherine called back. She turned to greet Selma.

“It sounds like the party is going quite well.”

Selma nodded. The sounds of music filtered up from downstairs. “Dugan is playing his fiddle and the men seem to enjoy the entertainment.”

“I wish I could be more enthusiastic. I just feel so overwhelmed with my emotions.” Catherine sank to the edge of her bed.

Selma smiled and pulled up the chair Catherine had only recently vacated. “Is this about your father or about Mr. Danby?”

Catherine met the older woman’s eyes. “Both. Oh, Selma . . .

I believe I’ve fallen in love. Carter Danby has managed to worm his way into my affections.”

“What a romantic way of putting it,” Selma said with a laugh.

A smile crept onto Catherine’s face. “All right, so it isn’t a very complimentary way of stating the fact, but it is true. I didn’t want this complication. I never intended to remain in America one second longer than it took to get Father the justice he deserved, but now I feel torn. If I go, I know I will leave my heart behind.”

“And if you stay?”

Catherine’s brows knit together. “If I stay? How can I? Father is in England, and that is my home too.”

“But America has been your home these last five years. And they have been good years overall. Hard years, but good.”

“It’s true,” Catherine admitted, “but I never considered staying . . . until now.”

“Child, you have borne a tremendous burden for such a long time. It started with the loss of your mother and brothers and continues right through to this moment with your father’s whereabouts still unknown. You needn’t bear this alone. God has now provided true love for you; why be afraid of that?”

Catherine got up and paced the tiny space. “Because when Father is freed, he will need care. He might be sick by now.

Prisons are notorious for consumption and other diseases. His constitution might have failed him. If I were to allow Mr. Danby’s attention and affection, would I be sacrificing my father’s well-being?”

“Your father was not a man who would ever want his only daughter to forgo the love of a lifetime for the sake of tending to him. Besides, America might well be the best place to bring your father. If you can find a way to see him set free, he may want to put England behind him.”

“I suppose all these years and the betrayals done to him by his friends may well have that effect. We shall see in time, but for now, I don’t know what to do. Carter Danby wants to court me—to marry me.”

“And what do you want?” Selma asked.

Catherine wrung her hands together. “I think I would very much like that, but I cannot allow myself that liberty. Not with Father having such a great need. Not only that, but Carter has no idea of what’s happened. Even if he remembers me and where we first met, he doesn’t know about Father. That’s a great deal to expect any man to bear for the sake of love.”

“Perhaps Captain Marlowe told him the truth.”

Catherine nodded. “Perhaps.”

“What if you were to tell Mr. Danby everything and allow him to be the judge of what happened and what it means to him?”

“What if I told him the truth and he decided to take me to the authorities?”

Selma chuckled. “Do you honestly believe Carter Danby would do that?”

Catherine searched her heart and immediately knew the answer. “No. No, he would protect me. I know that.”

“Then why not be honest with him? Tell him what happened and let him decide if he can bear the burden. Two sharing the load is much easier than one. Remember, the Bible speaks of such things in Ecclesiastes.”

“I do remember. It says something about how it’s better because if one falls down, the other can help them back up, right?”

Selma nodded. “Mr. Danby wants to come alongside you and offer you his shelter and protection. And from what you say, you would very much like to have that attention from him.

So why not allow your love to grow—to bring you to a place of matrimony?”

“But what of Father? Surely I should consider him in this and what he might want for me.”

“I think your father would want you to be safe and happy, but above all to be loved. He never planned to dictate your union or arrange your marriage. I believe he would be pleased to see you happily wedded to Mr. Danby, even if he couldn’t be a part of it.”

Catherine knew in her heart that Selma was right. The thought of finding Carter and telling him the truth was almost overpowering. “So should I write Carter a letter? Surely I cannot go back to Philadelphia.”

“I think a letter would be appropriate. Maybe remind him of the past and where you met, even though you’re sure he now remembers. Then tell him why you came to America and why it was necessary to remain so secretive. I would also tell him how you feel about him. Leave no question of it—play no game. If you toy with his affections, you might well lose them altogether.”

“Very well. I will write to him.”

“Good. Now do you feel better?” Selma asked.

“I do.” Catherine came to Selma and gave her a hug. “Thank you for your counsel. You always seem to know just the right thing to say.”

Selma pulled away just a bit to see Catherine’s face. “You are dear to me, child. You always have been and always will be. My most fervent desire, outside of seeing your father freed, is seeing you happily settled.”

“You and Dugan have been so good to me. My pain is cut in half in light of your tender love.” She hugged Selma one more time, then released her. “I think I’ll write that letter now.”

Selma smiled. “It’s a very good start to the new year.”

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