“We have at that.” A smile played at Deidre’s lips as if she were holding back a secret pleasure. An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
John looked to the church, wishing Hannah would hurry. “Have you any special plans for the afternoon?”
“No. Not really. I’ll have a bit of lunch and then take up some mending that needs doing. And perhaps David will join me for dinner.” She moved to one of the horses and ran a hand down the front of its face. “I’ve a bit of a dilemma, however. Perhaps you can be of some help.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ve recently learned something disturbing . . . about someone who attends this church. And it’s a matter for prayer.”
“Prayer is always a good thing.” John patted the horse’s neck. “And in what way can I be of help?”
Deidre moved around the horse until she stood close to John. “You know the person I’m speaking of.” She let the sentence hang in the air a moment, then continued. “It’s your wife.”
“Hannah? What about her?” John puzzled over the comment. “Oh. You must mean the intruder. He’s not been found. But you needn’t worry. Hannah’s doing quite well and so is Perry. I’ll tell Hannah of your concern. She’d be glad to know of it.”
“Yes, I heard about that. It’s quite a shock to know that prisoners are running loose and might accost you in your own home.”
“I doubt that you’ve anything to concern yourself with. It’s a rare occurrence.”
Deidre studied John, a strange expression on her face. “There’s something else I wanted to speak with you about. I heard that once there was a . . . child . . . one that Hannah bore while on the prison ship.”
At first, Deidre’s words made no sense, but when the statement finally penetrated John’s mind, he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He managed to keep his voice controlled as he asked, “What are you talking about?”
“I was told she had a . . . a friendship with a well-regarded gentleman in London. And that the affair ended in quite a loathsome way. When she was thrown out of his house, she took some of the gentleman’s belongings and was actually carrying his child.”
Rage reared up in John. How dare this woman speak of Hannah’s troubles and in such a perverse way.
She offered a sly smile, still holding John’s eyes with hers. “I also know that she wanted that innocent little one dead.”
John was so furious he didn’t know what to say. If he acted as if he knew what she was talking about, he’d give away Hannah’s past. Yet Deidre obviously already knew the truth—her version of it.
She moved past John and placed a hand on the mare’s back. “I’ve been quite distressed since hearing this news. What a burden it must have been for Hannah . . . and for you, to carry such a secret. The dishonor must be stifling.” Her tone kindly, she added, “Ever since I heard, I’ve been carrying you and Hannah to the Lord in my prayers.”
“I’m sure you have,” John replied in a derogatory tone. “I don’t know how you came upon such a story.”
“Indeed, it’s no story, but truth.” She stepped closer, and resting a hand against her throat, she looked at John from beneath lowered lids. “Such a tale could ruin someone like Hannah. How devastating it would be if it were to get around.”
Suddenly John knew Deidre’s intentions. He stepped back and moved to the wagon. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve an engagement.”
Deidre followed him. “If you’ll spare me a few minutes more.” Her muddy green eyes locked with his. “From time to time I find myself a bit short on cash and goods. As you know, it’s difficult for a woman on her own.”
“Is it?” John fought to control his fury. He met her cool gaze with a heated one of his own. “Perhaps you can explain it to me.”
“There are only so many hours one can work, and I’ve no husband to help me. I thought perchance if I were to be blessed with two good ewes I’d have enough wool for necessities. And my larder is a bit low. A hog would go a long way toward fending off hunger.”
“Why is it that you come to me with these needs? I’ve barely enough to feed Hannah and myself.”
Deidre’s gaze moved to Hannah who had stepped out of the church and was followed by Lottie and Mrs. Atherton. “She’s quite comely and seems genteel. What a shame it would be if word were to get out that she’d been sullied and then destroyed her own child.”
“You have it wrong. What you’re saying is not true!”
“Oh? Isn’t it?” She turned her attention back to John. “All I’d need would be two sheep and one hog. I daresay, that’s not so much to ask.”
John clamped his jaw tight. “Your threats will have no influence over me.”
Deidre turned toward the church. “Well then, I shall be forced to speak with the elders about this matter. How can they be of assistance to those in their flock if they’ve no knowledge of the need?” She daintily lifted her skirts and took a step toward the church. “I’m sure they’ll be glad to know there’s a call for spiritual guidance amongst the congregation.” She smiled demurely.
John’s outrage flamed, but what was he to do? He couldn’t allow Hannah to be shamed in such a way. She was respected in this community. If word got out, she would be ruined . . . and so would he.
He railed against capitulation, but what other choice did he have? “All right, then. I’ll see to it that you get your ewes and a sow.”
“How kind of ye. Thank ye for yer generosity.” Deidre took a step toward the church and then stopped and looked back at John. “Oh, can ye tell me when I can expect them?”
“Next week is the earliest I can get by your place.”
“I’ll have need before that. I think two days hence would be soon enough.”
John sucked in a breath. “All right.” He glared at the ground. “Tomorrow. I’ll bring them tomorrow.”
“Good.” Deidre sauntered off toward David, who waited for her at his buggy. John’s outrage billowed.
How dare she!
If he could have, John would have followed her and pummeled the woman, but of course that was impossible and would serve no good purpose.
Hannah walked toward John. “What did Deidre want?”
“Nothing. We were just chatting.”
“Something’s wrong. I can see it. What is it?”
“Everything’s fine.”
Hannah studied him. “I don’t believe you.”
“What could be wrong on such a fine day?” John tried to make his voice light.
Hannah stared at him and finally said, “All right, then. I suppose you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” She watched David Gelson’s buggy pull away, then turned back to John. “Lydia and Mrs. Goudy said they’d be pleased to join us for a picnic. Where do you think we should go?”
“I’ve changed my mind. We’ll do it another time.”
“But I thought we decided.”
“Not today.” John lifted and smoothed the traces that ran over the horses’ backs. “We should go.”
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing. I’m just not feeling well.”
“But you said everything is fine.”
“It is, but I’m feeling a bit under the weather.”
“What did Deidre say?”
“Nothing. Now, let’s go.”
Hannah looked wounded and John felt badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to socialize—not after what had just happened. And he wasn’t about to tell Hannah the truth.
Her shoulders drooped. “All right. But I’ll have to offer my apologies to Lydia and Mrs. Goudy.”
John watched Hannah walk away. She deserved none of this. She already had so much to bear.
Lord, why would you
allow such a thing?
Gelson’s buggy moved toward the road and Deidre’s laughter carried across the grounds.
John clenched his jaw, his ire deepening. Hannah had been right about Deidre.
I’ll do as she asked, but that will be the end
of it
, John told himself. But he knew differently. This was only the beginning.
Hannah peered out the carriage window, excited about a day in Sydney Town with her friends. The coach shuddered as it dropped into a hole, and then jolted forward as it found its way out. She could smell the distinctive aroma that came only from the ocean—salt and sea life. Rather than rekindling ugly memories, it revived her. Once she’d thought the months aboard a prison ship had ruined her love of the sea and that she’d never tolerate the pungent ocean aroma. Thankfully, she’d been wrong.
Gazing at the aqua bay, she smiled. How good to be here. It had been too long. With the roads in such dreadful condition, she rarely visited. But today was to be a treat, a special time just for the ladies—her, Lydia, and Gwen.
“I daresay, Sydney Town’s becoming a proper city,” Lydia said, leaning over Hannah for a better look. “It’s quite grown up.”
“I love it here!” Gwen sat across from Hannah and Lydia and gazed out the window beside her. “It was good of the Athertons to let us use the carriage. It’s much more comfortable than a wagon.” She leaned an elbow on the window ledge. “It would be grand to have our lunch at a café. When I lived in London, I’d sometimes see the well-to-do in a fancy café. They’d be sitting at tables with linen tablecloths and flowers in the center, drinking from elegant goblets. I always thought one day I’d like to do that.”
“I doubt Sydney Town has anything so grand as that, but I’m sure we can find one with good food.” Hannah smiled at her two comrades. “Thank you for inviting me. It’s been far too long since I’ve had such an outing.”
“We thought it time you got away from that farm of yours and had a bit of merriment.” Lydia grinned. “And I agree that lunch together would be fun.”
Her eyes wide with anticipation, Gwen adjusted her bonnet. “I’ve so much to do. I’m not sure just what should come first.” She pulled her cloak more tightly about her shoulders. “It’s a shame the weather’s turned cold. This would be so much more pleasant if it were warm.”
“It is chilly.” Hannah rested gloved hands on a coverlet draped over her knees. “I’m glad I thought to bring my lap blanket.”
“I daresay, it’s utterly cold, but then August can be that way.” Lydia glanced at heavy clouds. “Perhaps there’ll be a rain shower or two. Mrs. Atherton is hoping so. She said it’s been too dry this winter.”
Gwen leaned her head against the edge of the window and gazed out. “I do miss the snow. It seemed to make the world brighter and cleaner.”
“Cleaner . . . until the horses and carriages started mucking things up. Then it was an utter mess.” Lydia made a face that showed her distaste.
“Well, I don’t miss the bitter cold at all,” Hannah said. “There were too many days that no matter how much coal we fed the stove, the house never felt warm.”
“I know all that, but when the snow first fell all soft and pure, the world would seem hushed and peaceful. I loved that.” Gwen’s expression was dreamy. “And summer was never impossibly hot, nor were there masses of feasting flies.”
“No, just an incredible stink. And I rather like the heat and rain we get here,” Lydia said.
With a secretive smile on her lips, Gwen clasped her hands in her lap. “Course this summer might be special.”
“How so?” Lydia asked.
Gwen didn’t answer, but the smile remained on her lips.
“You’ve a secret. What is it?” Hannah leaned toward her.
“Out with it. Tell us,” Lydia teased.
With her hands clasped loosely, Gwen stretched her arms out in front of her. “I’m certain Perry’s going to ask me to marry him.” Her eyes danced with pleasure. “And I think summer is the best time for a wedding, don’t ye?”
Lydia looked stunned for a moment.
Concern touched Gwen’s eyes. “Ye don’t mind, do ye? I know that once the two of ye—”
“No. I don’t mind. I’m just surprised. I’m thrilled for ye. Don’t worry ’bout Perry and me. We were only friends, nothing more. I think the two of ye are perfect for each other.” Lydia reached across the space between herself and Gwen and grasped the young woman’s hand. “He’s lucky to have ye.”
“I’m the lucky one. He’s a fine man and sometimes treats me as if I’m royalty or something. And he doesn’t mind at all ’bout me past, me being in gaol and all that has happened.”
Nothing was said, but all three knew the atrocities committed against women prisoners. Every woman dreaded the possibility of what could happen and remembered the terror of night aboard a prison ship.
“I should think not,” Hannah said. “He was a prisoner himself and a street rat before that.”
“I’d not call him a street rat,” Gwen said defensively. “He lived on the streets, but only because he had no other choice. And although I’m sure he wasn’t beyond reproach, he never gave in to the temptations of thievery and some of the other violence. He remained an upstanding citizen, respectable.”
Either Gwen was unwilling to look at the truth or Perry hadn’t been forthcoming with her. Hannah knew the full story. Perry had never been as bad a scoundrel as some, but he’d done what was necessary to survive. She said nothing, not wanting to endanger the joyful glow on Gwen’s face. How good to see her in love. “Perry’s a fine man, no matter his past,” she said. “And he’ll make a good husband.”
The coach jolted to a stop. The driver stepped down from his perch, opened the door, and gave the ladies a hand out. “I’ll take the coach ’round to the stables and give the horses some feed and water. I’ll be back for ye in three hours’ time. Will that suit ye?”
Lydia glanced at the others. “That’s fine with me. I’m sure I will have completed my errands.”
“I’ll be ready,” Gwen said.
“Me too.” A gust of wind swept cold, damp air up off the bay, and Hannah pulled her cloak closed at the neck.
The driver nodded and climbed back onto the coach seat. With a slap of the reins, he moved the team down the street.
“I’ve some things to get for Mrs. Atherton and for Dalton,” Lydia said. “The mercantile ought to carry most of what I need.”
Hannah wished she could do some just-for-fun shopping, but funds were limited. John’s shirts were in bad condition, and she dare not wait longer to make him new ones. “I’m in need of broadcloth, so I’ll join you.”
Gwen held up a satchel. “My boots are so badly worn I can’t put off repairs. I’ll take them to the cobbler. Then I’m going to stop in at the millinery shop.” She smiled at Lydia. “I love your new hat, and you’ve inspired me to get something new for church and special occasions.”