The Old Cape Teapot (11 page)

I took out the map from my journal for another look and then refolded it. Both the pottery shard and map would be better off in the small safe stored in the back of our closet. A little key dangled from a chain on its brown handle. We never hid the key. The safe mainly served as protection against fire damage. I placed both items inside
the
safe, next to the cotton pouch that contained a dozen silver pieces of eight. I kept these small treasures at home for my own enjoyment,
whereas the others were stored at the bank.

The thick steel box was closed with a quick turn of the little key. Suddenly a wave of sleepiness caught me by surprise, and I realized I was still suffering from jet lag. I knew I’d better get some more rest before making inquiries about the shard; my search would have to wait. Paul has got to see both of these, I decided. I’d show him after supper, when things are quiet.

As I turned the corner to go down the steps, I got a text from Brian.

Had small event for orphanage. John’s house broken into. Earrings
gone. Call you later with more info. Love you

Brian

September 1722

YARMOUTH - CAPE COD

FOR TWO DAYS,
Tobey waited at the dock for the appearance of Davis. Nervous and unsure of what lay before him, he kept himself hidden from unfamiliar faces. On the third day, Davis finally arrived and said nothing to Tobey; only a glance was given toward the slave
as he boarded the packet
Marie
. Tobey understood Davis’s signal and followed behind him. Their destination was Yarmouth; silence
between them remained through the rest of the voyage.

When news of the
Marie’s
arrival spread through the small seaside village, Davis’s manservant, Jacob, was summoned to pick
up his
master at the landing. Old Jacob, an Indian from Nantucket, tied his muffler tighter around his open neck as he set out for the sea’s edge. He had several blankets in the wagon, knowing that his weary
passenger would surely be cold and damp in the chilly fall air.

Jacob was surprised to see a black man accompanying his master but held his questions.

Tobey remained staid in his demeanor and undaunted in fulfilling John Julian’s orders as their wagon rumbled along the
cartway through the sparse forests of Cape Cod. In contrast, Thomas Davis whistled and looked forward to bedding his wife.

***

Smoke drifted from the main chimney atop Davis’s house in
Yarmouth, which fed several hearths on the two floors where they lived.

Hephzibah hurried up the winding back stairs from the kitchen
to the third floor attic to change her apron. These sparse quarters were reserved for the live-in servants. The air was chilly to the young girl as she grabbed a clean covering; the room’s warmth came only from the
heat of the bricks that formed the chimney. She was going to meet Master Davis for the first time and couldn’t bear for him to see her unkempt.

Felicity remained in the parlor, with her tea, and waited for her husband. It had been six months since he took his leave and she had news for him.

“It’s good to be home,” Davis said as he jumped down from the wagon’s bench.

Hephzibah opened the front door and welcomed him with a
curtsy. “Mr. Davis.”

“Well, whom do we have here?” he asked surveying the young woman.

“Hephzibah, sir.”

“I see,” he said, noticing the shape of her body and comely features.

“Madam awaits you in the parlor,” Hephzibah said keeping her eyes downcast.

Davis turned to Tobey. “Go with Jacob, he’ll see to you.”

Once inside, Davis passed his hat and coat to the servant girl and ordered, “Bring my ale to the parlor.”

“Yes, sir.”

He watched her walk into the kitchen until she disappeared behind the door. Aroused by this young beauty, he adjusted himself
before entering the parlor. “Felicity, my dear. How are you?”

“As well as expected.” Her voice was sharp and curt.

“Do I detect a slight bother in your voice?”

“I’m sorry, Thomas, but since you left me here in this place, some events have occurred that I’m quite anxious about.” Felicity folded her hands across her stomach, over her unborn child, and
looked straight
at her husband. “Do you remember the day before you left for
Antigua, when you forced your way into my bed?”

“Why, yes, it was quite enjoyable,” he said, smirking with relish for the coming night.

“Maybe it was for you, but your carnal desires impregnated me. I am now with child and in my sixth month.”

Davis knelt at her feet. “My good wife, your news brings great joy to me.”

She looked away to the window.

He took her hands into his. “No matter what you may tell me, either by words or actions, I know that you’re pleased, if not with
me, then with the thought of a new life for you to love.”

He was right about the child. Her features softened and she smiled.

Hephzibah entered the room carrying tea and a mug of ale.
Davis rose from his knees and stood behind his wife.

After inspecting the tray, Felicity dismissed the servant with, “Leave us.”

When they were alone, Davis took note of the rose patterned
teacup and asked, “My sweet, do you not favor the tea set that I gave to you on our wedding day?”

“Oh, forgive me,” she explained, “It’s the new servant, I told her to always use that lovely blue tea set that you gave me. She never listens to me.”

“I’ll handle it,” he said.

“No, I shall see to the matter myself.” Felicity was determined to prove herself worthy of her husband’s respect in managing the household. When
the time comes for her to leave this awful place and return to Boston, he will surely accept her decision to leave as a wise one and in her best interest.

***

As Jacob steered the wagon to the rear of the house and into the barn, no words passed between Tobey and the old servant. When the wagon stopped, Jacob climbed down from his seat and led the horse into a stall. “Come wit’ me,” he said to Tobey. He pointed to a small
room to the
side of the barn where a single roped bed was positioned under a window. “That’s where you’ll be sleepin’.” It had a blanket and a
small pillow on its top.

“Yes, sir,” Tobey said.

“How long you staying, boy?”

“My name is Tobey, sir, and I’ll stay…‘til I do my job.”

Jacob understood the reference to the word, ‘boy’ and responded
with a fatherly mockery. “Oh, pardon me…Mister Tobey.” He spat some tobacco juice from his lips and waited for the young black man to react to his sarcasm. When nothing came, he shrugged and continued his chores of feeding and grooming the horse with no further conversation.

Tobey rose and began to help Jacob. He ignored the old man’s remark, thinking Jacob may be his only friend in this new place.

“Been here long?” Tobey asked as he looked for more to do.

“Almost a year now. Got one more to go.”

“You can’t leave?”

“I be indebted to Mr. Davis.”

Tobey found a pitchfork and threw hay to the horse.

Jacob was grateful for Tobey’s help and began to feel at ease
with the young man. He leaned against a barrel to light his pipe and then
shook his head back and forth. “One day I woke up and was told I
had to go with Davis.”

Tobey looked over to the old man. “What’d you say?”

Jacob exhaled a long stream of smoke. “When I lost my wife and
family to that sickness from the white people, I started my drink and couldn’t stop, even after the money ran out.” He squinted his eyes and curled his mouth up to the side. “My people are the
Wampanoag, peaceful, strong and welcoming. Too welcoming, perhaps. We didn’t deserve what happened to us. There ain’t many of us left.”

Tobey understood. He, too, had felt the meanness of those in authority. The strong heft of his next throw of hay almost hit the horse.

“Hold your temper, son.” Jacob cautioned his charge and continued. “I owed to Mr. Cathcart, the tavern keeper, and was working off my debt. One night, he lost me in cards to Davis. It was
a stupid game, and I was
forced to leave my home. Now here I be.” More puffs of smoke
drifted into the air. “What’s your story?”

Tobey wasn’t keen on telling too much about himself. He was on a mission for his freedom and the sooner he returned to his island, the better. “I come from Antigua. Belong to the Smith Family and their sugar plantation.”

“What you doin’ here?”

“Business with Mr. Davis. As soon as I find what belongs to the Smiths, I go home. I can’t say more.”

Jacob tapped the ashes from his pipe outside on the barn doors.
“I’ll not be meddlin’ then.” He motioned to Tobey. “Come, I guess
you be hungry.”

The savory smells of clam chowder and fresh baked bread
drifted
towards the two men as they entered the kitchen from the rear of the
house.

“Ma’am,” Jacob greeted Hephzibah as she stood near the hearth.

Turning around, she answered, “Hello.”

Jacob gestured to the tall black man. “This here’s Tobey, from
Antigua. He might be stayin’ with us for a bit.”

“Good to know,” she said.

Hephzibah was used to men. The youngest in a family of four brothers, she knew how to handle herself in most any situation. She was not fearful of the stranger “Can I interest you in a pint?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tobey politely answered and stayed seated at the
table. As he watched this attractive woman move back and forth, almost dancelike, attending to the final preparations of the evening meal, he wondered what it would be like to bed her, a white woman.
Finding himself staring at her, he shook his head and rubbed his weary eyes, trying to rid any notions of this woman from his mind. It had been a long journey. He felt weak and exhausted. Best keep to himself.

September - 1722

YARMOUTH - CAPE COD

THE COLD NIGHT AIR
crept in and around the Davis house. Felicity
retired early, while Thomas finished his last ale for the day as he
studied Julian’s map. After securing the doors downstairs and snuffing the candles out, he went up to the second floor. Eager to pleasure
himself
with his wife, he stripped off his clothing, pulled back the heavy
drapes around the bed, and slid in next to her.

“Felicity,” he whispered. Not hearing any movement, he spoke her name again, “Felicity.”

His wife kept quiet. Just as single-minded in his pursuit of
getting
his way, Felicity was also; she feigned sleep. He placed an icy foot
against the calf of her warm leg that lay nearest to him.

She screamed, “Mr. Davis!” and sat upright. “Stop it!”

“Something wrong, my dear?”

“Yes, your feet are freezing. Get them away from me this instant!”

Thomas let out a quiet snicker.

Felicity adjusted her nightcap then turned to him. “Now that
you have so rudely woken me, I have something to tell you.”

“Is it that you desperately want me to ravage you?” he asked in anticipation of the coming events.

“Heavens no,” she spat her words out at him. “I must return to Boston.”

“What’s that you say?”

“Mother Gibbs thinks it’s best
for my health and for the child that I reside in a place closer to civilization.” She smoothed the
coverlets with her hands. “And I agree with her.”

Thomas lay back onto the bed, exasperated.

She waited a few seconds before continuing, “I’m not comfortable here, and distancing myself from the attention of
doctors with whom I’m familiar is not in my best interest.”

“Oh Felicity, must you leave me here all alone?” he grumbled.

“Mother Gibbs has already sent word to reopen our living
quarters
in Boston. We will leave in a few days.” Her voice was firm and unemotional. She returned to her cocoon under the coverlet and
closed her eyes, satisfied that the subject was finished.

Thomas remained on his back, not moving. He stared at the
flower-patterned material that hung above his head across the bed’s canopy frame. Rolling on his side towards her, he asked in one last desperate
attempt to satisfy his needs. “My sweet thing, since I will not be
enjoying your company for a while, may I create a memory of you that will tide me ‘til your return?”

Confident that she had prevailed in her demands to leave
Yarmouth, Felicity relented to his request, having decided that this was the least
she could do for him. Throwing back the covers, she lifted her shift
up to her neck, exposing her breasts, and invited him in.

Thomas formed a lustful smile as he rolled his naked body over hers.

While he enjoyed himself, Felicity closed her eyes and made mental notes of what to bring to the city and what attire would be
the most flattering to hide her swollen stomach.

***

The sun had not yet made its presence across the land when Tobey
rolled onto his side to face the opening of the barn stall. He pulled the coarse blanket up over his shoulders in the chilly morning air
and tried to fall back to sleep.

Jacob entered and called out, “Tobey!”

The old servant stepped across the straw covered floor and over
to the lone horse. He patted the gentle steed a good morning and
gave
him his feed. He called again, “Tobey! Get up!” After lifting the
saddle over the horse’s back he secured a strap under its belly. “Best you get up, boy. Mr. Davis don’t like to wait.”