A Lady of High Regard (10 page)

Garrett considered this for a moment. “The story I’m hearing is that some of these women are being raped for payment—that their children are being taken and indentured in order to pay back such debts. Please tell me this is not happening among the women who rent from us.”

“To my knowledge such a thing would never be allowed. I do have several men who work under me and collect the rents and other monies due. I could speak with them if you’d like me to.”

Garrett regarded Rodney, sensing his sincerity. There appeared no hint of deception in his manner. “I think we should be about this cautiously, Rodney. After all, there is a great deal of suffering already being perpetuated, and I wouldn’t want to cause further grief for these families. I suggest we be very covert in our investigation.”

“What do you suggest?”

Garrett had thought a great deal about this ever since Mia brought it to his attention. “I will look into this for myself. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open. If you have someone you know well and can trust with the truth, then perhaps we could secure their assistance.”

“My nephew is a good God-fearing man. He helps to collect rents, but not on the docks; he’s usually in the textile district. I could send him down there, however. I would trust him with my life.”

“Good. That’s exactly what I was hoping for—someone who wouldn’t be out of place and could get information. I won’t tolerate any of our men putting this kind of burden on our renters. We have never been given over to such cruelty.”

Rodney looked thoughtful for a moment. “Do you realize that even if such things are going on, we won’t be able to stop it—not all of it? The law favors the debt collector. Oh, for certain the law would not advocate rape, but taking a person to indenture is not that uncommon. I’m afraid the legal courts would look the other way, even if there were reasons to call it into question. My guess is the same might happen with the charges of rape. The pure and simple truth is no one cares about the poor.”

“I care,” Garrett said, slamming his hands onto Rodney’s desk. “I care, and I won’t see it continue because of ignorance. It doesn’t make it right, just because I don’t know about it. I won’t have the Wilson name sullied by such practices.”

“Calm down, Garrett. I’m not the enemy here. I completely concur with you. I do not advocate the things you’ve spoken of here today. I am merely stating the sad truth of the matter. Do you realize how many poor and homeless go missing every day? The numbers are quite high. Many die of sickness and exposure, and little is done. I have on occasion seen the indigent dying on the streets, with no one to even see them taken to a hospital or other means of care. When epidemics strike, it is always the poor who suffer the greatest loss—yet their numbers are often inaccurately counted. You cannot count what you will not acknowledge even exists.”

“But these are wives and children of wage-earning men. Certainly working a ship is still an honorable way of making a living. The situation presents itself because the men are long gone from home. These women need a protector—a champion— and I mean to be that man if no one else will rally to the cause.”

Rodney sat back and folded his hands at his waist. “You cannot change the world, Garrett.”

“Maybe not, but perhaps I can change Philadelphia.”

“Garrett, the world is indifferent to those of little means. People care not what happens to the poor because they have nothing to offer the world but their poverty and pain—two things that most everyone would just as soon forget exist.”

“Just as they wish they could forget that the poor exist.”

“Exactly. I wish I could offer you better counsel on this issue, but the truth is as it always has been: The poor will always be with us.”

Those words haunted Garrett as he rode his black gelding through town. He had said that very thing to Mia. How hollow and empty the statement was as it resounded through his troubled heart and head. No wonder Mia had resented his attitude—he resented it himself. He’d only said those things because the very thought of Mia being injured or placing herself in danger was more than he could bear. He would never forgive himself if harm came to her. Especially if he might have prevented it.

He left his horse with a groomsman and walked to the backyard garden, where Agnes and Bliss were happily playing with their dolls. When they spied Garrett, they ran to greet their big brother.

“Did you bring us a present?” Bliss asked as she threw herself through the air and into Garrett’s arms. He lifted her high in the air before tickling her. She giggled and squealed in delight.

Agnes watched in frustration, but Garrett wasn’t about to leave her out. “Miss Agnes, why don’t you reach into my coat pocket and see if I don’t have a surprise for you.”

“I want to look in your pocket,” Bliss complained as her sister searched.

“You are my captive. You attacked me, and I am holding you hostage,” Garrett said, laughing as he kept Bliss high in the air. His arms ached from the way she squirmed and tried to break free, but he held her fast.

Bliss giggled. “You are too strong.”

“Peppermint sticks!” Agnes exclaimed in delight.

“One for you,” Garrett told her, then gently lowering Bliss, he set her upon the ground and added, “and one for you.”

Agnes gave him a curtsy before handing a stick of candy to her sister. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to curtsy when you get candy,” Bliss declared. She grinned up at her brother. “I liked being up so high. I could see the whole world up there.”

“And what did the world look like to you, Miss Bliss?” he asked.

“It looked very big.” Bliss giggled as Garrett nodded in affirmation.

“ ’Tis very big indeed.”

“Where have you been?” Mercy asked as she came down the back steps with baby Lenore.

“I was merely tending to business,” Garrett replied. He offered his stepmother a smile. “I have spoiled my sisters with peppermints; I hope you will not scold me overmuch.”

“I will not scold you,” Mercy assured him. “You are all that a big brother should be.” She looked at Bliss and Agnes and shook her head. “You need to gather your things and wash up. Your music teacher will be here very soon.”

“I don’t want to play the pianoforte,” Bliss said, hands on hips. “I don’t like the keys—they are too big.”

“Stop being a baby,” Agnes scolded.

“Girls, no fighting. Go inside now and have Cook keep your peppermint for after the lesson. That way you shall have something to look forward to.”

The girls gathered their dolls and went into the house without further argument. Garrett was impressed with Mercy’s ability to get them to do as they were told without too much protest.

“Your father has been attending to business as well,” Mercy said. “I wonder if you know what it is about.”

Garrett shook his head. He truly had no knowledge of the matter. “I cannot say for certain. A new shipment of crystal is scheduled to be ready in another month. I will head over to Ireland to oversee the transaction, place new orders, and bring back the shipment—perhaps he is seeing to the final arrangements.”

“Perhaps. He seemed much preoccupied this morning, however. I worry that something might be wrong.”

“Wrong?” Garrett stiffened. He tried to make a pretense of straightening his coat. “Did he say something to lead you to that belief?”

“No, it wasn’t what he said so much as what he didn’t say. Garrett . . . I think your father is quite ill. He will not speak to me about it. Whenever I try to bring it up, he hushes me or changes the subject. I am very worried.” The concern in her expression betrayed the grave worry in her heart.

“Do not fret. I’m sure if there is something for us to know, he will tell us. He’s never been given to deception.”

Mercy nodded. “Of course, you’re right. I will trust him to speak to us if something is wrong.”

Garrett forced a smile. “I’m certain he will. Now, come. Let’s head indoors before you and baby Lenore get too much sun.”

Mercy allowed him to lead her back inside and said nothing more on the topic. She didn’t need to. Garrett already felt awful about it. Mercy was no fool. She had good reason to fear the truth about her husband’s health. Just as he did.

CHAPTER 8

M
ia approached Sarah Hale’s office in trepidation. She had dressed carefully in a sage green walking-out dress, giving special attention to her bonnet and hair. Mrs. Hale was a stickler for looking respectably elegant. She adamantly believed that a person should dress fashionably when appearing in public.

Setting the example, Sarah Josepha Hale was known for her simple, yet elegant, manner of dress. The small woman always appeared carefully groomed and ready to meet her public. Mia admired that and tried to follow suit. Today was especially important, since she wanted to speak to Mrs. Hale not only about the seamen’s wives, but also about her father’s determination to put an end to Mia’s job at
Godey’s.

Sarah looked up over the drawings one of the associates was showing her. “Come in, Mia. Don’t waste time out there.”

Mia swept into the office with a smile. “Thank you for seeing me.”

Mrs. Hale made several comments to the man beside her before dismissing him. She turned her attention on Mia and asked her to have a seat. “I’ve been very pleased with the articles you’ve written. Also, the poetry you’ve brought us has been top quality. We’ve had several wonderful letters regarding the poem ‘My Mother Now Departed.’ ”

“I’m glad the response has been positive. I’ve brought you additional poetry and a few recipes. Oh, and an article that addresses flower arrangements for autumn.” Mia leaned forward and deposited a stack of papers on Mrs. Hale’s desk.

“But I believe there is something more pressing that you wish to discuss.”

“Indeed. I have continued to get information from the seamen’s wives regarding their plight. I had a conversation with a woman who desperately requested she remain anonymous lest harm come to her or her family.”

“And isn’t that a pity—a woman lives in fear of even speaking the truth. Go on.”

“She confirmed our worst suspicions. She spoke of women being forced to pay debts left by their dead or departed husbands. She said some women are even forced to give of themselves physically, and in extreme cases some of the women have had their children taken as payment.”

“Outrageous! And we call ourselves a civilized nation.” Mrs. Hale was clearly upset. The lady editor, as she was often called, could not accept such injustice. “We must see an end to this. I am working with the local politicians, but I’m afraid it is time for an editorial. Such a situation should not be tolerated.”

“It is tolerated because those women have no voice. As poor women, they are completely ignored—their plight is of little concern to those in power.”

“True. However, if we educate the masses of people who read our magazine—particularly the women—we may yet be able to bring about change. We need to humanize the story and make those people real to the reader. They need to be something other than faceless, nameless entities in a newsman’s story. I need to find one of these women who will bare her heart for the magazine. We could write an entire series on the issue and turn the tide of opinion.”

“Do you really think so? I would like to believe people would care, but . . . well . . . one person I mentioned the problem to said, ‘The poor will always be with us.’ As if that somehow explained the matter.”

“Ignorance. Pure and simple. That person spoke out of his or her ignorance—and perhaps out of a lack of compassion. Problems abound for these people. Even now women and children are working excessive hours in the factories. They are even dying for lack of decent rest. In exhausted states they work at machinery that eats them alive if they fail to be alert and skilled. A child died just yesterday in a loom accident. I needn’t tell you how disturbing it is to me that children are forced to seek manual labor.”

Mia nodded. “But what is to be done? You are only one woman.”

“One woman with the eyes of nearly 150,000 readers upon her. We will utilize
Godey’s
to educate the people about the reality of such tragic situations. Once educated, people will not sit idly by. They will act upon their convictions and bring about change.”

“I do hope you are right. I know the seamen’s wives are in desperate need.” Mia took a deep breath before continuing. “I need to speak to you about another concern as well.”

“By all means, but make it quick. I have plans to meet with several women over the dinner hour.”

Mia struggled for the right words. “My father would like to see me cease my reporting activities. He believes I risk bringing disgrace on the family and that I endanger my social position by involving myself in a career. He has asked me to quit immediately.”

“Of course I would not wish you to displease your father, but neither do I want to lose you. Your work for this company has been superb.” Mrs. Hale studied Mia with an intensity that caused discomfort.

Mia shifted anxiously and twisted her gloved hands together. “I must admit I am torn. I cannot hurt my family, but I am also deeply concerned with the issues we have discussed. I have thought perhaps of a compromise.”