Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [146]
“Well enough to return to his duties,” Dinah had reported with a sniff. “He might have exposed Harlan Wilkins for a blaggard and a traitor, but he’s still a redemptioner.”
“He won’t be when his uncle gets here,” Tabitha had responded as a counter to the girl’s condescension.
Now the uncle had arrived and she’d been summoned. No doubt they needed her testimony of what had occurred aboard the Nemesis.
“I’m surprised they haven’t gone on to Richmond,” Tabitha said. “Wouldn’t the governor want to know about all of this? Or the Navy, such as it is? Or even President Madison?”
“They’ve sent dispatches to all of them.” Letty pulled needles and yarn from a basket at her feet and began to knit something fluffy and pink. “As soon as the doctor tells Dominick he can travel, I expect they’ll be heading up to Washington City.”
“Before he returns to England?” Tabitha stared out the window as she spoke. A falling mist made the trees look like sentries along the road. “Kendall will sell his indenture, won’t he?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Letty pursed her mouth.
Tabitha smiled. Letty, so loyal to her master, wouldn’t divulge such information to anyone who didn’t need to know. She would be a good cook and even housekeeper for a budding politician.
“So what are you knitting?” Tabitha changed the subject to the mundane.
They discussed the merits of a knitted blanket over a quilt for a baby, and other inconsequential matters. Tabitha fidgeted. The mist made the light too poor for reading. It slowed the coach. A four-hour journey took six. Then the first lights of Norfolk broke through the gloom and she began to fuss with her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear, then pulling it out again to curl against her neck, tilting her hat to the left, then tilting it back to the right. Her blue sprig muslin gown looked too cheerful for a lady mourning the death of a friend, even if that friend had betrayed his country. The men would think her irreverent. The vice admiral would find her dowdy and out of fashion, wholly unsuitable for his nephew.
When Tabitha began to untie and retie the ribbon around the high waist of the gown, Letty tucked her knitting into the basket and grasped Tabitha’s hands. “You’re going to wrinkle it.”
“I look like what I am—a nobody from nowhere, an insignificant—”
“The most respected woman on the eastern shore, Tabitha Eckles. Now, lean forward and hold up your shawl.” Letty smoothed the bow against Tabitha’s back.
She winced.
“I declare that man could have stopped the lash from striking you,” Letty grumbled.
“He certainly could have the second time.” Tabitha recalled the sight of Dominick’s scarred back and shuddered. “How could a father do that to his son?”
“Some people just have anger inside them when others cross them.” Letty leaned forward. “We’re here.”
“It’s a house.” Tabitha had expected an inn.
“It’s the mayor’s house. The Norfolk mayor, that is.”
Tabitha’s heart began to race. Only Letty’s presence stopped her from flinging herself out of the carriage and racing to the door, calling Dominick’s name. Letty, and Tabitha’s desire not to shame him for even being friends with her.
What felt like an hour later but was likely only a quarter of that time, the coach stopped, the door opened, and a servant in crimson livery held up his hand to assist her to the ground. “They’re waitin’ in de parlor, Miss Eckles. But here’s Molly to help you freshen up before you go in.”
“Thank you.” Tabitha spoke in a breathy voice unlike her own.
She needed water to quench her dry throat. She needed a new gown, something of silk and lace from London, though she’d never cared about what she wore in her life. She didn’t even own any jewelry.
Her legs felt like year-old carrots as she climbed