Chapter 2 #2
Clearing his throat, Benjamin shifted in his seat. “Forgive me,” he said, careful to keep his voice low, “for I meant no offense. I’ll admit I’ve never thought—”
“No,” she agreed, “I suppose you never would think of such sentiment, and that’s precisely the problem.” Expression softening, she heaved a sigh. “I beg your forgiveness as well, Mr. Ashby. You’re actually…tolerable, truth be told, and as far as suitors go, you are not the worst to cross our path.”
Benjamin ignored the not-quite-apology, and instead, succumbed and lifted the mutton off his Wedgwood china. After weeks—nay, months—of not having eaten properly, it was difficult to resist ripping into the meat like a glutton.
Discreetly, Clara moved her hand over his thigh to stop him, commanding his attention. Benjamin nearly choked at the brazen gesture. To his surprise, the look on her face was that of amusement and not seduction, nor ill intent.
“You’re not using your knife and fork,” she whispered, the words delivered from the side of her mouth.
A jolt of panic blitzed through Benjamin, and he stiffened, swallowing his mouthful with difficulty. “I…I-I do not much care for frivolities,” he whispered back, “so I’m inclined to only use silverware whenever necessary.”
“And why should you do otherwise?” she agreed, smiling more freely. “Why, with being a man of such vast import, I imagine you hardly have time for silliness such as cutlery.”
Benjamin couldn’t tell if she was agreeing or making fun of him. Nevertheless, he grudgingly set the mutton onto his plate, then lifted his fork and made a show of stabbing it into the meat. If only he could stab it into his ear canal…
The first course came and went, and after the servants changed the dinner cloth—such a ridiculous practice!—a second course arrived and was set before them. Fruit tarts, jellies, and creams were tantalizingly on display, and Clara gleefully requested a peach tart before it was set upon her plate.
Jedediah no longer seemed quite so taciturn, and, just like before, was ready to engage the entire group in conversation.
“I pray this war will be over any day now,” he said.
“As a man of Philadelphia, Mr. Ashby, how does it feel being surrounded by so many traitors to the Crown? Those ungrateful rebels should show gratitude for being granted the protection of His Majesty’s Finest.”
Clara groaned. “Oh, Father, must we always circle back to politics? It gets so tiresome!”
“No, no, I don’t mind,” Benjamin interjected, relieved that the subject had been broached naturally. “In fact, as well as getting to know your lovely family, I had every intention of seeing how I could aid you in the loyalist cause.”
“Oh?” Jedediah eyed him over his spectacles. “In what regard?”
“Any regard you see fit, sir. I am but a lowly, humble man at your service—at the king’s service.” Smiling, Benjamin bowed his head and moved a hand over his heart, as if pledging his very allegiance. He heard Clara snort, but didn’t spare her his attention.
Taking a sip of madeira, Jedediah hummed to himself, then set his crystal glass off to the side. “You’ll have to forgive me, Mr. Ashby, because I must confess I was only lured in by Lottie’s promise of your family’s wealth. Your business is in what, again…?”
“Shipbuilding.”
“Ah. Well, that could be quite beneficial to the cause,” he allowed, his eyes gleaming. “In light of Billy Tryon’s good fortune last year—becoming major general of all the British forces on Long Island!—I imagine he’d make great use of your ships.”
“I’d be honored, sir,” Benjamin agreed. “I could also smuggle items for the mayor, whether it be here or abroad—the soldiers, as well. So long as you act as our liaison, I imagine New York will be none the wiser.”
Jedediah lifted his glass again. “Hear, hear!”
Clara huffed. “Now far be it for me to douse this oh-so-happy occasion with misgivings, Mr. Ashby, but I thought your family business was a different sort? Specifically, textiles?” Smugly, she added, “Charlotte’s always going on and on about how your father is such a superb businessman.
Many a Philadelphian tongue is wagging about his draper shop, and how he’s dressing the wealthiest elite in Pennsylvania. ”
A heavy silence befell the table, but ever quick to action, Benjamin grinned and leaned back in his seat.
“Alas, it seems you’ve caught me red-handed, Miss Boyd!
” he exclaimed. “My father is a mercer—I’ve admired and studied underneath him my entire life—which is why I was inspired to embark upon my very own business.
After all, what sort of man would I be if I relied upon my father’s wealth?
If I, heaven forbid, failed to uphold his values of hard work, commerce, and success?
” Benjamin waved a hand. “I recently employed a crew of shipbuilders, and started offering my services to loyalist groups. I’d be remiss if I didn’t offer the very same to your family, would I not?
You are, after all, the ones my darling Lottie loves most.”
Jedediah pursed his mouth, considering this. “A cloth merchant? Well now, that’s very interesting, indeed…do you think that in addition to ships, you could get me a new suit tailored, Mr. Ashby?”
Benjamin nodded, tasting bile from his near slip-up. “It would be my highest honor, sir.”
Clara looked at her sister and sighed. “All this talk of business has me rather vexed, and desirous of some much-needed stimulation.” Expectantly, she turned to face Benjamin again. “Would you care to accompany me for an afternoon walk tomorrow, Philip?”
For the second time, Jedediah threw down his fork. “For heaven’s sake, Clara, can you at least behave as if you and Mr. Ashby are not familiar?”
“But we are!” she cried, her chin stiff with annoyance. “He is the man Lottie loves, so that makes him family!”
“I don’t mean to be an imposition,” Benjamin quickly spoke. “I’ll gladly welcome myself as a familiar to this family, Mr. Boyd, but if it insults your sensibilities, I will just as gladly denounce it.”
Jedediah huffed, mopping at his glistening brow with a handkerchief. “Spoken like a true gentleman,” he muttered. “I thank you for your patience with my daughter, Mr. Ashby—nay, Philip. Seeing how you’re the man who caught our Charlotte’s eye, I am glad to extend the offer of deeper acquaintance.”
A seed of relief bloomed within Benjamin’s breast, and as the servants came out and changed the tablecloth for the third time, he finally felt in control of the situation.
As was customary, the menfolk stayed in the dining area for more drink and conversation, and the women retired to the sitting room.
Despite Clara’s vulgarities, Benjamin was sorry to see her go; she’d provided a much-needed buffer between her father and himself, and anxious, he swirled his port while Jedediah moved on to his third glass of sherry.
“It’s no wonder you’ve swayed me into this,” he muttered, motioning at William to pour him another drink.
“I’m no fool, you realize. I know every great family in the area—some parts of Philadelphia, too—and with what I’ve learned tonight, I am of the mind that you are from good, sensible stock; the very best, in fact!
I’d be a complete loggerhead to dismiss this while taking Lottie’s future into account. ”
Benjamin swallowed. “Thank you, sir… But as a true Philadelphian gentleman, I’ve come all this way to request Charlotte’s hand, and on your terms, not mine.”
“Hmph.” Swallowing his sherry in three gulps, Jedediah gave a pleased hum, then made another impatient gesture to his servant.
While William refilled his glass, the lawyer rolled his eyes in thought.
“The match is sudden, though not ill-advised. I can scarcely say no to little Lottie. I trust you feel much the same. So all in all, I’m compelled to acquiesce to this union.
And why not? A fine, shipbuilding empire coupled with my renown as an attorney will get us far in this world, my boy. ”
“Oh…yes. Of course you’re right, Mr. Boyd,” Benjamin stammered.
“Please! Call me Jed.” Gesturing to William, he indicated that he refill Benjamin’s glass. “Drink up, my boy! This calls for a celebration!”
To your death or mine? he bitterly wondered.
Benjamin couldn’t sleep. Ever since he was a child, it had always been difficult for him to glean rest in new places; perhaps it was some type of primordial survival tactic.
If he lay awake, he wasn’t in danger of attack.
And there in the Boyd manor he was completely surrounded by an unknowing enemy.
The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.
Earlier that afternoon, Benjamin recalled seeing a library on the first floor. He would read a bit to settle his troubled mind, he decided. So after lighting a candle, he quietly made his way downstairs. To his alarm, he discovered the library was already occupied.
Sitting on a plush, high-backed chair by the fire, Clara Boyd was curled up with a book and bedecked in a dressing gown, her feet perched on the cushion’s edge, and putting her legs in a most unladylike position. Benjamin flushed and quickly moved to retreat, but she’d already spotted him.
“Have you come to escape your thoughts?” she asked, a wry smile on her lips. “I couldn’t sleep either, if it’s any consolation. I’ve been too fraught with grief over my behavior.”
Benjamin mirrored her smile. “You regret your behavior?”
“Ah. Fair enough. I don’t,” she agreed, simpering. “Not truly, anyway—not where Father’s concerned. That old goat deserves every bit of my vitriol.” Brow creasing in annoyance, she set aside her book.
Benjamin read the cover and arched a brow. “The Taming of the Shrew? How relevant.”
“You are not clever, you realize.” A more genuine smile filled Clara’s face, belying her irritation.
“I’ve been told I am a lot to handle on a first meeting, so I suppose I should apologize.
I doubt woman’s blood is one of your favorite subjects.
” When Benjamin’s face burned a brilliant scarlet, she laughed, her eyes sparkling while she drew her covered legs in toward her chest. “Why are you being so modest? Have you never read a book on the human body?”
Benjamin hesitated, wondering if he should be truthful, before he decided to lie and shook his head.
“Ah, it’s just as well,” she said. “Charlotte’s as pure as they come, so you needn’t worry about venereal disease, or any of the other topics in those books.”
Benjamin gaped at her, completely stunned.
Clara was so crassly forward, and yet she was also soft and refined.
How had she managed it? If Jedediah’s earlier claim was anything to go by, the war had brought any plans of remediation to a halt.
Perhaps Clara’s misbehavior stemmed more from recent events, as opposed to a gradual build-up since birth.
“How did it go?” she asked, dragging his thoughts to a close. “That is, how did everything go with Father? You were talking for quite a while.”
Hesitant, Benjamin set his candle onto a small table, then moved over and had a seat in the chair directly across from her. “Rather well, I’d say. He approved the marriage.”
“Oh! ‘Rather well,’ indeed!” Clara crowed.
“Welcome to the family, Philip—or should I say, the death of your dignity?” She grinned and hugged her knees.
“As an honorary member for the past twenty years, I can assure you that sanity is only a state of mind. Unfortunately, insanity is the only state you’ll find here with us Boyds. ”
Benjamin reclined in his seat, mirroring her tranquil posture.
There was something wholly disarming about her—freeing—and he found himself envying how easily Clara flitted from one subject to the next.
Nothing bothered her. After growing up as a reverend’s son, he craved that lack of guilt.
Her father clearly was ashamed of her, but she didn’t care, and that was what he coveted.
“Do you love my sister?”
The question slapped Benjamin to attention, and a sharp stab of panic took root in his stomach. “Of course I do…yes. Undeniably.”
“It’s all right if you don’t,” Clara softly said.
“Many don’t marry for love…they do it for family, or duty, or a little of both.
I suppose I just want to know why this engagement came on so suddenly, and under the utmost secrecy.
Despite my teasing remarks, I really do love my sister.
I’d do anything for her…Catherine, too.”
Thinking of his own siblings—his estranged sister, Ruth, in London, and Daniel, cold and dead in the ground—Benjamin offered a knowing nod. “Family is important,” he agreed. “In the end, they’re all you have…all you can count on.”
“Then you understand,” she affirmed, nodding. “Despite my parents being dreadful people, they’ve sired true gems—except for me, the diamond in the rough.” Sighing, Clara rose and grabbed her book, curling it across her breast. “I should retire. Will you still be accompanying me tomorrow, Philip?”
Rising from his seat, Benjamin bowed and nodded. “It would be my highest honor.”
Grinning, Clara teased him, “You really must love Lottie, seeing how you’re so eager to earn my good graces.” Slapping the book of Shakespeare against his chest, she quoted, “‘By this reckoning, he is more a shrew than she.’”
Bewildered, Benjamin moved to reply, but she’d already turned and left him with the tome in hand.