Goddess Born Page 4

  “Your concern is most appreciated, but I’m sure Mr. Alan will be a good servant.”

  “He had better be,” the captain said as a last warning. “May you have a safe journey home tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” I gave a small curtsy and turned to leave, convinced my true intentions were about to be discovered. Ben left my side to talk with Henry, and I started off in the direction of the inn. Focusing on a familiar point near the road, I began to negotiate my way through the crowd when someone knocked into my shoulder and threw me off balance. Stumbling back, I put my hands out to break the fall, only to be saved at the last second.

  “Ye best watch yer step.” A man pulled me to my feet. I’d started to thank him when he squeezed my waist, bringing me close enough to smell his rotten breath. “It can be dangerous out here fer a lady.”

  “Release me, please.” I tried to push away. His face broke into a wicked grin, and I knew if evil spirits walked the earth, I had just found one.

  “Aye, ma’am,” he said, letting me go. In mock deference he tipped his three-cornered hat to reveal the fiercest red hair I had ever seen. “Dirk Fletcher sends his regards.” Then he stepped away and melted into the crowd.

  I stood frozen in place, my heart pounding like a marching drum, when Ben arrived at my side. “Are you hurt?” he asked. “You left so quickly, it was all I could do to catch up once I got things settled with Henry.” He looked around, but there was no sign of my aggressor.

  My shock abated at the sound of Ben’s voice. Turning to him, I forced a weak smile. “Nothing more than a bruised shoulder.”

  Ben’s patience had been tried enough by my impulsive bidding on an indentured and I didn’t want to tax him further by retelling the whole encounter with that hideous man. Besides, if he knew the man worked for Mr. Fletcher, he might insist on making an official complaint to the sheriff, and then all my plans would be ruined.

  “I saw him creeping around like he was up to no good while you were speaking with the captain. If I’d known you were going to run off soon as my back was turned, I would’ve kept a better eye on him. I sure don’t know what’s gotten into you today.” Ben looked genuinely worried, but rather than questioning me further, he took my arm and led the way to the inn.

  His self-restraint was admirable, though I knew it wouldn’t last much longer, probably only until we got to our rooms where he could speak his mind in private. Guessing his intentions, I cut him off at the last corner. “Get Henry cleaned up and into some new clothes,” I said. “When you’re done, bring him to my room.”

  Ben frowned, clearly displeased by these orders, but I left before he could say another word.

  * * *

  I slipped in through the front door and went straight upstairs to my room, praying all the way that I wouldn’t run into Mrs. Bradford. The last thing I needed was an overprotective chaperone breathing down my neck, trying to make up for being left behind earlier this morning. Once safely inside, I bolted the door, then dropped my hat and gloves on the table. I walked over to the mirror and stared long and hard at my reflection. In light of everything, I was somewhat surprised to see my face staring back. I certainly didn’t feel like the same girl who had rushed out less than two hours ago.

  Maybe it would have been more prudent to have graciously accepted my fate, but by choosing to go down this other road I had learned something valuable: irrespective of the circumstances or odds, I refused to just lie down and let life take me where it may. To discover I possessed such strength in the face of certain defeat was empowering. Regrettably, I had also found something else that proved more than a little disconcerting.

  It wasn’t that I opposed buying indentured servants. More than thirty years ago, Ben had arrived in Philadelphia the same way. He’d been just seventeen, without shoes on his feet or money enough to buy even a small loaf of bread. At the time, my father had been busy building his reputation as a merchant. Finding himself in need of a personal servant, he purchased Ben’s contract. The agreed length of service was five years, but when this time passed, Ben remained with his master despite many offers to set him up in his own trade. Since Ben, my father had purchased the contracts of at least two dozen more indentures. Many of those servants had gone on to be small farmers or tradesmen, though more than a few chose to stay and work for my father once their contracts expired. His most recent purchases were the contracts of Mary Finney and Alice Reed, after two chambermaids left to be married within a month of the other. Only a year into their contracts, Mary and Alice had grown hopelessly devoted to my family and intended to stay at Brighmor for their remaining days, or until proper suitors came along.

  While the idea of indentures didn’t trouble me, my specific reason for buying Henry did. Not for a minute did I think he would willingly participate in my scheme if not bound by contract and threatened by the potential of a far worse situation. To save my own skin, I planned to manipulate another human being, just because I had the power to do so. This very decision made me a despicable creature—no better that Mr. Fletcher or Nathan Crowley.

  Unable to tolerate the sight of my own face any longer, I stepped away from the mirror and started pacing the floor. Am I really as bad as all that? Certainly my offer was better than seven years of backbreaking labor in a brickyard under so cruel a master. Not to mention any additional duties Mr. Fletcher had in mind when purchasing such an attractive young man. And what about the other boy who allegedly stumbled into the oven? Could Henry have met a similar fate? Taking the whole picture into account, maybe I hadn’t acted the villain after all, but had in fact performed a great kindness.

  With this new perspective, I stepped back in front of the mirror to check my appearance. According to the mantel clock I had been back in the room for well over an hour. Assuming that new clothing hadn’t proven too much of a hassle and allowing enough time for a proper bath and shave, I guessed Ben and Henry would be back to the inn within forty minutes. This gave me enough time to ring for tea and improve my own disheveled looks.

  At the armoire, I studied the selection of gowns in search of something more dignified than the cotton frock from this morning. Nothing jumped out at once, but after a moment’s consideration, I decided on a dark blue silk for the sole reason that the color perfectly matched my eyes. Changing dresses was no small feat, and I had just sat down to fix my hair when the maid brought up the tea. She stayed long enough to help with the finishing touches before I sent her away, not wanting her anywhere near when Henry arrived. Hopefully Ben would be discreet, and Mrs. Bradford would be spared any undue scandal on my account.

  To pass the remaining minutes, I sat down with a book of poetry. Generally an avid admirer of Anne Bradstreet, today the verses slipped away entirely unnoticed. Releasing a sigh, I put the book down and started pacing the room again only to find myself back in front of the mirror. I had slipped on a pair of pearl earrings and was pinching some color into my cheeks when Ben knocked on the door.

  “Please, come in,” I called, thankful I hadn’t turned the lock again after the maid left.

  As the two men walked into the room, my mouth fell open. The scruffy indenture from the docks was gone, and a breathtaking gentleman now stood in his stead—bathed and cleanly shaven, his light brown hair was neatly tied back with a black ribbon. They’d had good luck finding suitable clothing, and he wore a dark tan wool coat over a maroon waistcoat and a white linen shirt. Breeches of the same tan stopped right below the knee, giving way to white stockings and black shoes with large metal buckles. He offered a pleasant sight from head to toe, and I stared at him as though in a trance.

  Ben cleared his throat, and I pulled my mouth shut with a snap. “Mr. Henry Alan to see you, miss,” he said.

  “Yes, Mr. Alan, please come in and have a seat. Would you care for some tea?”

  “Thank you, Miss Kilbrid.” He sounded surprised by the o
ffer, but crossed the room all the same and took a seat near the hearth where the tea service had been set out on a low table.

  “Ben, you may wait outside,” I said. Although propriety insisted he not leave me alone with the man, I wished no further witnesses for what I was about to do.

  Ben raised his eyebrows to show he disapproved of my request. I raised mine in return, silently pleading with him to grant me some privacy. “Very well,” he said. “I will be right outside the door.”

  Once Ben left the room, I readjusted my face into a smile before taking a seat opposite Henry. Cold sweat coated my hands and nerves squirmed inside me like newly hatched eels. In need of a minute to gather my wits, I focused on pouring his tea while I debated where to start. Henry looked at me most curiously when I handed him the porcelain cup, and I wondered if he, too, was counting how many rules I had already broken.

  “Would you mind telling me some of your history?” I finally asked.

  Henry took a sip of tea. Placing the cup on the table, he folded his hands neatly in his lap. “I was born in England,” he said. “My father was an officer in His Majesty’s Navy. He retired from service in 1718 after being wounded in the Battle of Cape Passaro against the Spanish. Until two months ago, I was a student at Cambridge.”

  “Why on earth would you leave school to become indentured?” I spoke bluntly, startled to learn that a person of such advantage would actually choose to come to the Colonies in this manner. Usually indentures were among the most unfortunate...or criminals. Oh, heavens above! “Are you a criminal?” I asked, my voice breaking unnaturally.

  Henry looked straight at me. He had the most extraordinary green eyes, flecked with gold. “I am no criminal,” he said coolly. “Someone made a claim against my father, and I was indentured to cover the debt.”

  “I should not have assumed,” I said by way of an apology. We lapsed into an awkward silence while I grappled for more words. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “My mother and infant sister both died in childbirth when I was two years old. My father never remarried, and I remained an only child.”

  “Are you married or otherwise engaged?” I couldn’t believe I had only now thought of this potential problem. The wrong response and all my scheming would have been for naught.

  “No, I’m not,” he said. My relief must have been obvious for he gave me a rather queer look.

  “What are your plans once your contract is fulfilled?” I asked, as much from curiosity as necessity. “Do you intend to make a home for yourself in Pennsylvania?”

  “I will return to England and reclaim my former life.”

  So far, his answers proved satisfactory, and though by no means a complete biography, I had enough information to proceed further. Taking another sip of tea, I placed my cup on the table next to his. “Mr. Alan, as of this morning I find myself in a most unusual predicament. You may recall when you first saw me sitting at the docks?”

  He nodded to indicate that he did.

  “Well, I had just received some unfortunate news from Captain Harlow. My second cousin, Mr. Samuel Kilbrid, was also a passenger on The Berkshire. He died while at sea. We were supposed to be married, you see, and as things stand it is now quite impossible.”

  When I stopped to get my bearings, Henry remained silent, patiently waiting for me to continue. “My father also recently passed away, and with my mother dead these past four years, I find myself in a position of great risk. If I had returned to Brighmor a married woman as planned, I would have been sufficiently protected from a particular enemy. By returning home unwed, I could lose everything I hold dear.”

  I took one last deep breath and then pushed forward to the end.

  “Mr. Alan, when I purchased your contract today, it was with the greatest hopes that you would consent to pose as my cousin and, under his name, take me as your wife on the morrow. I know this is quite forward, but please understand the desperate nature of my situation. If you consent, I would agree to significantly reduce your length of service, and once I am safe from my enemy, you can leave Brighmor. Samuel is already dead, so to say he died in a year or two would not be too far from the truth. The marriage would be annulled at that point, and you would be a free man in every way. If by then you decide to stay in the Colonies, my only request will be that you live a minimum of three hundred miles from Hopewell.”

  Henry no longer looked at me, having turned to stare at the empty hearth. It was so quiet, the sound of our combined breathing and the ticking of the mantel clock filled the room. I began to think that my brazen behavior had rendered him mute when he finally spoke.

  “You want me to marry you?” he asked, facing me again. “Are you serious?”

  “Be assured, I am in earnest.” A deep blush crept into my cheeks from what I had to say next. “It would be a marriage in name only. There will be no conjugal rights. No familiarity beyond what is absolutely necessary to make the right appearance.”

  “I see,” he said, looking slightly amused at my discomfort. “And how can such a marriage save you from this enemy?”

  I had to pick my words with care so not to scare him away. “There is a man who is determined to have me for his wife. He has threatened to bring false charges against me if I continue to refuse him. He is very persuasive and could possibly turn the townspeople against me, and then I would be forced to marry him to clear my name. I wish to move his attentions elsewhere by returning home a married woman.” Of course there remained a chance Nathan would see a husband as just another obstacle to be gotten around in his deranged quest to fulfill God’s will. Or that he may still follow through with his threat and have me charged for a witch regardless of my marital status. I considered mentioning this to Henry, but decided not to clutter the issue with unnecessary details.

  Henry leaned back in the chair, a frown creasing his brows. “You are asking me to commit fraud by assuming another man’s name and enter into a contract under false pretenses. Have you considered the consequences if we are discovered? It would mean certain imprisonment and fines. Possibly even flogging if the Crown is so inclined.”

  Up until now I had been so focused on convincing Henry to marry me, the notion of getting caught hadn’t even entered my mind. My smile wavered for a split second. “Surely not so much as that,” I laughed, trying to mask my anxiety by making light of his. “They do not flog people quite so readily in Pennsylvania as they do in England. Maybe a week in the stocks at most.”

  He narrowed his eyes. Despite my jest, I would have personally chosen death rather than be put on public display for a week in the town’s square.

  “I assure you, no one will find out. Captain Harlow will be gone in two weeks, and Ben would sooner die than betray me.”

  “You have forgotten our friend Mr. Fletcher.”

  “He is not important,” I said with false surety. Remembering the redheaded demon, I almost crossed myself on the spot for added protection, but decided to wait till later when Henry was gone. This was a delicate game. Any sign of weakness would diminish the ground I had so painstakingly gained. “We are leaving in the morning, and Hopewell is fifty miles from Philadelphia. Mr. Fletcher will soon find someone else to work the ovens.”

  Henry didn’t look very convinced. “What if I refuse?” he asked.

  My pulse leapt with panic, but having already answered this question enough times in my own head, the words sprang naturally to my lips. “I would have Ben sell your contract to Mr. Fletcher this very night. In seven years you’ll be a free man, presuming you live that long. I’ve heard some of the lads in the brickyard are prone to accidents. But since you’re sure to be the master’s particular favorite, I guess there’s nothing to worry about.” I could hardly believe the callousness of my own words.

  Apparently neither could Henry. He closed his eyes and drew in several long deep breaths whi
le considering the alternative. “Marriage would be the lesser of two evils,” he said at last.

  I crinkled my forehead, displeased by his choice of words. “Don’t think of it so much as an evil, Mr. Alan, but rather as each of us having the means to help the other. I saved you from Mr. Fletcher, and now you can save me from Nathan Crowley.” My logic was decent if not entirely flawless.

  He regarded me closely with those piercing green eyes. A sudden shadow flickered in their depths, vanishing so quickly I would have dismissed it altogether if not for a lingering sensation of unease. The moment passed and a faint, sardonic smile touched his lips. “So, one good turn deserves another.”

  I forced a tight smile in return. “My thoughts exactly, Mr. Alan. You might even thank me in a year or two once this is all behind us.”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” he said wryly, “I would be a fool to refuse.”

  On a whim, I extended my hand just as I’d seen Captain Harlow do countless times at the docks earlier. “Do we have an agreement?”

  Henry nodded, and our hands met, mine disappearing into his as we shook to seal the deal.

  Chapter Three

  The Redheaded Demon

  No sooner had Ben returned Henry to their room than he came storming back into mine. Having neither the energy nor the inclination to move yet, I remained sitting by the hearth.

  He wasted no time getting right to the point. “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”

  I closed my eyes and sank back into the chair, willing myself to disappear into its dark softness. My head hurt and I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep until morning when it would be necessary to begin again. “I am so tired,” I said. “Can we talk later?” Under normal circumstances Ben tended to act like a doting older brother, readily giving in to my requests, but not today.