My Name Is Resolute

  * * *

  Wallace returned and spring forced us to abandon our grief, for though we behaved with decorum, we could not deny the warmth or rousing thunderstorms or verdant fields and meadows alive with every form of life. Mistress Roberts sent for the dresser in Boston to come to their home and create a gown for Serenity. The cost would be paid on account, she said.

  Serenity, Wallace, and I made it our business to go abroad in town twice a week or more, and to Boston for Serenity to have her gown fitted. That time we rode in the Spencers’ new coach. While she was thus engaged, he and I sat in the coach and he moved from his seat facing mine to the empty one next to me. Though it was the warmest day yet, he pulled down the window coverings. “We are quite alone here,” he said.

  “Though much may be heard through those windows,” I ventured. “Have you proposed to Miss Roberts, yet?”

  “Do not toy with me, Miss Talbot. You know my intentions.”

  “I do. But does she? I trow that is her wedding gown she is fitting, and none other. She must be told. It is only right.”

  He said, “Alas for her. She may not marry for at least a year, with her father so soon dead.” He smiled, took my hand and held it in his. When I made as if to take it away, he wrapped both his around mine so tenderly it made heat rise on my cheeks. “Ah. Perhaps you need some air.”

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Do you know my heart, Miss Talbot?”

  “As it concerns Miss Roberts?”

  “Silly goose. You know in days of old, a man and a woman would ply their troth by the fast holding of hands. It was a quite tender tradition.”

  “Along with a public blessing, it was. Here in this coach would not qualify, I believe. Tell me of your plantation in Virginia.”

  “Why don’t I rather tell you of the other house I have purchased in Boston? It is that direction.” He raised a hand across me to raise the window shade.

  I followed his finger and turned my head. “Which one?” I turned back to him in case he had not heard me. As I turned, I found he had leaned in against me to better reach the window and was still in that place, so that his face was less than an inch from my own. I felt soft breath near my cheek, saw the lashes on his eyes, the delicacy of his chiseled lips, so near my own. I said, “I do wonder what is keeping Serenity.”

  “I bless whatever it is. The only serenity I shall ever know is in your presence.”

  My mouth was as dry as if I had breathed dust. “Sir, you must give me air.”

  In reply, he raised the hand with which he held mine, and kissed my fingertips, one at a time, while staring into my eyes. “I am bewitched by you, Miss Talbot. But surely you know that.”

  “Do not speak of this, Mr. Spencer, unless you will answer me in truth. Have you proposed marriage to Serenity? Have you let her believe you are intended for her?” I licked my lips, fighting the dryness of my throat.

  “No to both questions. Naturally, their family and mine have been long acquainted, and as we are young people, it is customary to befriend—but let us talk of what I do have and wish. I have houses and land. I have horses and coaches to carry you about and servants ready to do your bidding. Will you marry me?”

  I knew not whether it was because of the hesitation in my eyes, or in spite of it, but when his lips covered mine with such tender caress, such pure feeling, I let myself wilt, enfolded in his arms, and we stayed thus, our lips pressed tightly, for many minutes. When at last he pulled away, I sank, breathless, against his neck. The crisp-softness of his clothing, the enticing strength of his arms, the kiss I had just known, all seemed too much to think about. I could do no more than just stay right where I was for a hundred years. As I caught my breath, I said, “I will marry you, Wallace. As soon as I get to Jamaica and find my mother. When I return I will marry you. Providing you tell Serenity.”

  He pulled away, astonished. “That could take months.”

  “We are young. We have all the future. Come with me.”

  “Could you not send a letter and inquire?”

  “I have tried. It served me not. Come with me. It will be a voyage to my past, and then I shall be yours for the future.”

  He seemed to be pondering this. “Dear Resolute. Dear one, do not place this yoke upon me, upon us and our future. This is too dangerous, too lengthy. I should not allow you to go, either. As an engaged person you will have certain responsibilities. I would have us marry this fall. You have often told me how the season suits you.”

  “We could marry in the plantation great house at Meager Bay. Ma would adore it.” I clutched his hands and smiled my most beguiling smile at him.

  “Kiss me again, and tell me you cannot wait all that time to be wed.”

  I kissed him again, and then pushed him away and said, “It is all I ask of you. Wait until I return, or take me to Jamaica. I have lived on no other wish for six years.”

  His breath came hard and fast, as if he had run to this place. His eyes seemed to have grown larger and darker, and he said, “When Miss Roberts is finished with her errand we will go to a shipping master and inquire. Now is the best time of year to travel. Marry in the West Indies? It seems the perfect solution. We would not have to tell Miss Roberts, not hurt her so greatly, just travel there with me as your escort, and marry there, and come back husband and wife as if it were a natural occurrence, the happy accident of travel. She will be much the less harmed and you will be out of their home and so will suffer no ill accusation. After their recent bereavement, it would seem cruel to break her heart, don’t you agree? Of course you do. There, then. Dearest.”

  The door to the shop rattled the wee bell which overhung it. The heat in the coach, combined with the thought of traveling unmarried with him, left me near to fainting. “Raise the shade, please,” I said.

  “Of course.” He reached across me again and planted a quick kiss on my forehead as he sat back in the seat across from me.

  Serenity opened the coach door, all asmile. “Why, it is dreadful hot in here! Why did you have these closed on this side?”

  Wallace said, “There were common people passing by and peering in as if we were a curiosity.”

  “Miss Talbot, I have brought you a gift.” She placed a large round box in my lap. “I know it is soon after Father’s death, but I saw it and thought of your fair coloring and knew it was the right thing to do. Please tell me you love it. If you don’t I will get another, for I mean to give you something.”

  I opened the box, and feeling ever more guilt, I wept when I saw the delightful bonnet it contained. It was the newest fashion, small and costly, and in a shade called Prussian blue. “Oh, Serenity. It is exquisite!” As I sat, stunned, she put it on my head, tied the bow, and begged Wallace for his approval, which he gave with a nod, watching us all the time as a cat would watch two mice at play. When he informed her that our next stop would be one of the harbormasters, she did not seem at all disappointed. She was not happy about my going away, she declared, but made me promise to return and to write, which I did with some reservation and a twinge at my promise to myself about honesty. Serenity insisted she was happy to drive about with us, her best friends, all evening.

  At the harbor office, though, Wallace bade us both sit in the coach where we opened the shades to get the ocean air; foul as it was with fishy smell and oils, at least it was cooler. When he returned, he said, “Miss Talbot, your passage is arranged. You leave on the Aegean in six weeks’ time. She sails at high tide on June sixteenth or seventeenth. You must be here on the fifteenth.”

  I sighed so deeply I almost fainted. Home. Ma. Two Crowns. At last, at last. “How long will the voyage take?” I asked. “How shall it be paid for? What—”

  “About two months. And think nothing of it. Anything you want onboard is already paid for. You will of course need a chaperone.”

  “And you arranged for me a cabin, not just a place in the hold?”

  He laughed. “You have a cunning sense of humor, dear Miss Talbot.
”

  Serenity took my arm and we hugged each other. I was happier than I knew I could be. So many wonderful things in a single day. I looked at Wallace and thought, Oh, my blessed betrothed, thanked him with my eyes and a small smile. We pulled away from the Neck talking of any and every thing and nothing of import.

  Two days later, the Spencer family sent to me a gift of a traveling trunk for my voyage. When next Wallace called, I found myself surrounded by the Roberts family, with no chance of speaking to him privately. A game of whist, an afternoon tea, and a light breeze though it threatened of rain later, we girls were aglow with happy chatter. It was Herbert who caused everything to change. He came to Wallace, smirk on his face and hands on hips, and demanded an audience. “I will speak with you, Master Spencer,” Herbert said, drawing himself up to his fullest.

  Wallace said, “You address your elders as ‘mister,’ not ‘master.’ That is for boys. As yourself.”

  “I say, sir. I am now the man of this family. I just intend to know if you are going to marry Miss Talbot.”

  His sisters erupted in laughter. Serenity said, most condescendingly, “Herbert, that is not the type of question you ask an adult. You are far too impertinent.” Uneasiness settled upon us all, then. Wallace excused himself early, before dinner, and his empty place already set at table seemed a burning firebrand in the room, a thing we could not explain or condone.

  Before the pudding came out, I excused myself claiming a headache, but in truth it was my heart that troubled me. I promised them I would be recovered by morning if allowed to retire early. I had never before been given to fits of dramatic anguish, such as was common in this family. I had witnessed America Roberts throwing herself upon her coverlets and weeping, or the twins clubbing the floor with fists and feet and felt ashamed of them, yet I felt compelled to do just that. I supposed they were excused by their youth for such villainy, and composed myself to dress for bed and then sit at my dressing table and cry. A soft tapping at the door gave me to sigh, for I had no wish to discuss my sorrow, could not do so, for I knew not why I was disconsolate. “Please enter,” I said.

  Serenity opened the door. She had on her dressing gown of violet satin, the collar of which I had embroidered with lavish white and gold roses. “Why are you so disturbed? Was it because of what Herbert said? He is just a child, you know. You will find a love, someday. Wallace and I have been closest friends since we were children.”

  I felt my resolve for honesty melt like candle wax. “My mother is my only hope. At least you have yours here to be with you in any sadness or joy, to help you.”

  She made a sound, pursing her lips. “I never pictured Mother helping me. I hardly knew Father. He sat in his office and went to town. He treated us no better than he treated the servants. In truth I feel as if a great weight were lifted off my shoulders, not having to please him all the time when I never knew how.”

  I wept anew. “That is so—” I meant to say pitiful, but stopped the word. “Sad. My father was heroic and kind. He would sooner wink at me than scold me. It pains me now that I ever gave him distress.”

  “How sad for you.”

  I straightened in my seat. “If he had lived, I would never have suffered so.”

  She paced a bit, and then settled in the other chair, a cushioned wingback next to the fireplace. “What have you suffered? You seem so elegant. So knowledgeable. Two languages learned well, fine handiwork. Father told us nothing of whence you came, only that you were to be our ward. Only your want of returning to your homeland would suggest you were not as Bostonian as any of His Majesty’s subjects.”

  “I have lived my life waiting to return home. I am going, thanks to Mr. Spencer.”

  A look of displeasure crossed her face, as if my saying his name were an affront to her. “He is most kind. You must have accompaniment, and protection. Perhaps Wallace and I should go. The West Indies? Could be adventurous. A memory to last all our lives.”

  “Serenity, I should tell you about Wallace and me.”

  “Tell me what?” She seemed to shrink into her clothing then, as if a blow had been dealt, a real blow, much closer to the bone than her father’s death. “He’s going with you? Is that it? But not I? Does he not intend to take me along? You have plotted behind my back, whilst I show you the tenderest affection?”

  “I implore you, Serenity. I cannot deny our affections.”

  “Your affections? You have seduced Wallace? You cannot presume to speak for him as well for I have known him my whole life.” She stamped one foot, rose and made for the door. My new bonnet hung on a hook near it. She clutched it and threw it toward the fireplace as she went out. One of the ribbons caught fire but I pulled it out before more damage was done.

  Mistress Roberts came to me an hour later. “Your scheme will not happen. I have sent a letter to Lady Spencer with all the details. The only person who will convince me of it is young Wallace himself. I hope you know how ashamed I am of you. How sorry that we showed you all the kindness of family, to be repaid by this.”

  “Madam, he and I are quite in love.”

  “Love? What has that to do with it? Men have their dalliances. It means nothing compared to a proper marriage.”

  “But we will marry. In Jamaica.”

  “You shall not. He has promised Serenity. Even if you travel as a paramour with him and go around the world, you shall not marry him.”

  After that night, my presence in their house was tolerated but coldly. I made a promise to myself to suffer any bitterness until I could leave. For a few more days, I could stand anything.

  Three days later, when Mistress Roberts’s personal serving maid unbolted the door to a knock in the morning, I thought nothing of it until I happened to look up from my packing and see out the window. A file of eight uniformed men on horseback waited in two lines under the carriageway. It was too intimate a place for a cadre of uninvited soldiers. I joined the Roberts daughters on the stairway as Mistress came into the receiving parlor. We heard shouting, Mistress crying out. Betsy and Tipsie ran down the stairs and I followed close on their heels with Serenity, America, Herbert, and Henry.

  The boys darted between us to plant themselves squarely in the midst of their mother and the men with whom she argued. Between Mistress Roberts’s cries and the sobbing of the staff and daughters, what we learned was that Mr. Roberts had put up his house against the promised boon from a ship that did not exist. The Roberts family had been cheated out of everything by Peterson Cole, who before the ink was dry had sold the wager to another and disappeared. The new owner, Mr. Barrett, had called in the debt and was taking possession of the house and all its contents. We were to be put into the street that very day with what personal effects we could carry. Mistress begged for more time, but the man in charge told her she had already been given two months in which to make things right.

  I ran to the carriage house. After I pleaded with the groom, he drove me to Lord Spencer’s mansion on the finest avenue in Boston. I walked inside the cool entrance, breathing in the smells of wood and coffee, rum, tobacco, and old wool carpets. It smelled like home.

  I followed the butler to where Wallace sat reading in a drawing room furnished in shades of umber, so dark that it needed candles lit at noon. “Oh, my dear,” I said when I saw him. I ran to him and knelt at his knee. “There is terrible news at the Roberts home.”

  Wallace raised one hand. “Bring us tea, Oswald.”

  When Oswald left, I said, “They are to be turned out.”

  Then he faced me. “Turned out?”

  “Soldiers came this morning with a magistrate and constable. Mr. Roberts had lost everything to the Seaman’s Mercantile. The owner is calling in the debt, taking the house. Mistress Roberts has to leave immediately and will be guarded so that they take nothing of value.” My heart was not brought down for them, for I had my own life ahead of me. I had Wallace ahead of me. I would be in the arms of my mother in two months or less.

  “Are you asking
me to take it on? You know, do you not, that I am dependent. I could not ask my father to assume such a debt.”

  “I am asking you to marry me now. Take me off their hands. We are promised. Let us marry and be wed, and they will have that much less with which to concern themselves. When I am come to Jamaica, my estate will be yours. Then if you agree with my wish to help them, we shall be able to do it.”

  Wallace grew still and silent. He lost all his merry ways and gentle looks. He said, “There’s one thing to be said for changing horses in the middle of the lane.”

  Oswald appeared carrying a tray. I poured tea into the delicate porcelain cups. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Tell me how it happened, for I have been so busy preparing our new lives I gave it no thought at all. I knew the old man had a weak heart. It was spoken about town. He was known, you know, among our circles.”

  “His heart did not fail him. His financial partner did.”

  “I insist on knowing, dear one.”

  “I thought you knew and were just being polite. He hanged himself from a rafter in his study. Hard to believe the servants have not passed that around the town.”

  “Lord,” he said, and downed the last of the tea in his cup.

  I reached for his hand and he took it as I said, “Yes.”

  “They were notified today, this very day, you said, yet the magistrate insisted they had had prior knowledge? I must go there at once.”

  “I came in their carriage.”

  “Wait for me in the hall.”

  I felt hurt by his brusque tone, but thought of Mr. Roberts’s manner of speaking. Perhaps it was the way with these New Englanders.

  At the Roberts estate, soldiers stood by each door to the outside. Wallace marched past them as if they were curtains, going straight into Mr. Roberts’s study. He sat at Mr. Roberts’s desk and leafed through papers, tossing down one after the other, causing the stack to collapse. The letter from the solicitor of Two Crowns slid to the floor with several others. If I were to write to him directly, bypassing the use of the lawyers at Foulke and Harrison, I would need it. I put it in my pocket. By then the rest of the family had entered the room and he came up with one written in Mr. Roberts’s hand, a sort of apology for the state of his affairs, and another from Mr. Barrett’s solicitor dated two months prior. I said, “It is late, Wallace. There is nothing you can do.”