Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Tensions Rise
My Dear and Treasured Son,
It aggrieves me to learn of your intentions through a courier.
Did you fear I’d say no? Did you think I’d forbid you from answering the call of your heart?
I am proud of what you’ve decided to undertake.
Although you once resolved to remain impartial in this war, you’ve sacrificed your comfort and safety for the love of family.
You enlisted as a soldier, first and foremost, and have God’s Light to guide you through the rest. Your brother would be so very proud. Surely, you must know this.
In terms of lodging, the redcoats occupying Freyview have at last relocated, so I’ve finally felt safe enough to return.
I shall never again abandon my flock. Running away is for cowards and thieves, and I am neither.
And what’s more, I intend to live by your brother’s example—by your example.
After the previous war, I vowed to never again raise a musket toward my fellow man, but in this conflict, I can at the very least support those who are in need.
Washington petitioned residents of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia to provide cattle for the army, so I intend to arrange for one of our bulls to be donated.
It’s good and right to give unto others.
One day soon, I hope to embrace you, to look into your eyes and witness firsthand the brave, brilliant man you’ve become.
I implore you to not write me under any circumstance.
Any ties to our family could compromise your alias.
Although it pains me, I’ll be content to wait for your safe return.
Until then, remember your teachings, and above all, the unfailing love I shall have for you always.
Please burn this upon receiving.
Your Most Humble and Affectionate Father,
Josiah
Trembling, Benjamin smoothed his hand across the dog-eared letter, his heart shattering and reassembling with each bolstering word.
Although delivered to him two months prior, he often took it out and reread the lines for encouragement, reminding himself that his father did, indeed, love him, and didn’t harbor any ill will toward his failure to mitigate Daniel’s passions.
When Benjamin lived in a boarding house in Huntington, New York, he’d only heard from Daniel and Amos every one to three months.
Despite not being foolish enough to state their intentions outright, Benjamin read into their plans with little to no effort.
Unfortunately, it seemed someone else had as well, and entrapped Daniel upon one of his returns to Freyview.
Exhaling, Benjamin pressed the letter over his heart. He could do this. He had to; if not for his brother and father’s sake, then for all the other Daniels and Josiahs whose fates lay in the balance.
With his resolve bolstered, Benjamin said a quick prayer, then set the letter across the flames on his hearth. “I’ll see you soon, Father,” he whispered.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Startled, Benjamin turned toward the drumming at his chamber door. Why was he being disturbed?
Nearly toppling, he clumsily rose and strode across the room, sparing the hearth one last glance. “Yes?” he called.
“Good morning, sir,” came the muffled response. “It’s William with your clothes.”
Instantly sobered, Benjamin opened the door and blinked at the freckled younger man, relieved to see a travel trunk in his arms. The poor servant, however, appeared a bit unsteady beneath the chest’s weight.
“This is from Miss Clara,” he explained through gritted teeth. “She said her father wouldn’t mind.”
“Yes, that’s what she told me, as well,” Benjamin replied, retreating to allow him entry. “Thank you for this.”
While William awkwardly crossed the threshold, Benjamin showed the servant where he could set the trunk. Though once it became evident the man wasn’t leaving, he frowned in curiosity. “Was there something else you needed?”
Equally bemused, William asked, “Don’t you need help getting dressed, sir?”
Oh, sweet merciful Lord…
With a grimace, Benjamin reminded himself that in order to keep up appearances, he had to play along, so with a tight smile and nod, he watched William open the trunk and set all the necessary raiment onto his bed.
The room grew painfully quiet. Judging by the night’s prior commentary, the hired help truly didn’t speak unless spoken to. So Benjamin cleared his throat and asked, “If it isn’t too much trouble, do you think you could show me around?”
William straightened. “Around, sir? You mean the grounds?”
“Oh, no, I can manage that on my own; I meant the house,” Benjamin explained. “I was hoping to explore. But if you think it unwise…”
“No, sir, I think that would be fine,” William assured him. “First, I must seek approval from Mr. Boyd. After that, I’ll be sure to come fetch you.” Stepping forward, he took Benjamin’s nightshirt and tugged it over his head.
All at once, Benjamin winced, stricken by the morning chill washing over his naked skin.
With the clothing discarded, he flushed with humility while William fetched the ruffled shirt from his bed.
Avoiding the servant’s eyes, Benjamin poked his head through the offered linen shirt, and slipped his arms through the sleeves, relieved once the long garment covered any indecency.
After swiping a pair of stockings, he sat upon the bed and tended to them himself, not wanting more assistance than was necessary.
“Accessories, sir?” Holding a wooden box, William indicated the cuff links inside, and Benjamin pointed to a simple gold set, unsure of what was the most tasteful.
“How long have you worked here, William?” he asked, extending his arm.
Applying the left cufflink, the servant moved on to the right. “When I was very young, my mother and I searched for employment. I had all my teeth, and a sound enough head for learning, so Mr. Boyd took me on. He has his manservants tutored.”
“Does he?” Benjamin asked, trying to mask his shock.
Fetching a pair of breeches off the bed, William nodded. “Yes, sir. He’s one of the richest, most powerful men in New York. He wants his hired help to reflect himself.”
Accepting the breeches, Benjamin rose and stepped into each leg, then fastened his fall front while William knelt to secure the shiny, ornate buttons along the knee bands. “Do you like it here?”
William stood and helped Benjamin into a tan, silk brocade waistcoat before fetching a cravat. “I have the Lord, sir, so therefore, I very much enjoy my life.”
It was a well-practiced and diplomatic answer; Benjamin could respect this, but found it far too convenient.
Allowing William to wrap the silk fabric around his throat, he held still while the servant tied and knotted his cravat.
“Since you can’t be spared until later, would you mind telling me about the rooms here? ”
William shrugged, fluffing out the tails of Benjamin’s cravat. “Although hardly standard, it’s what you’d expect, sir: bedrooms abound, a foyer, the sitting room, a drawing room, Mr. Boyd’s office, the dining room, a libr—”
“An office?” Benjamin cut in, his interest piqued. That was surely where Jedediah was originally scheduled to meet him. “Does Mr. Boyd take clients there?”
“Sometimes,” William allowed, “but usually the special ones. He does most of his dealings in town at his place of business.”
When William rummaged in the trunk for a pair of shoes, Benjamin tried not to smile. If Jedediah headed into town often, that meant he had ample time to explore the man’s home office, because surely, more private intelligence would be found there?
Mood considerably lifted, Benjamin started fastening his waistcoat buttons, then extended his left foot when William returned. The servant slipped the shoe into place, the black leather a little snug around his toes. A thick brass buckle shone brightly in the morning light.
While William tended to the second shoe, the servant apologized, “Begging your pardon, sir, but Miss Clara didn’t lend you a wig. She said it’d be a shame to cover your nice head of hair.”
Benjamin nearly snorted. He never wore a wig, and was grateful this Tory doll didn’t expect him to play dress-up. “It’s no matter,” he assured the younger man. “You’ve both done more than enough. Thank you for your help.”
“If you insist, sir.” Satisfied with the job he’d done, William rose and helped his superior into the ornate, blue, wool frock coat from the bed. “Breakfast will be in about fifteen minutes, so I can escort you to the library before the gong is struck, if you’d like?”
Already, Benjamin could feel his stomach curdling. A meal, though a great pleasure for his tongue, also meant the displeasure of yet another encounter with the Boyds…
After Clara’s handmaiden helped her get dressed in a blue damask silk robe a l’anglaise, complete with a floral-patterned underskirt and white muslin fichu, Clara came downstairs in search of her sister.
She found Catherine in the drawing room, expertly tinkling the keys of their well-polished harpsichord.
But rather than sit and listen, as was her usual custom, Clara stormed over and stilled her sister’s hands.
The blonde jerked away from the intrusion, her brow pinched and expression sour. “What on earth has gotten into you?” Catherine demanded. “I was finishing my—”
“We need to talk,” Clara interrupted. Her eyes were sharp like unweathered sea glass. “It’s about that man…Mr. Philip Ashby.”
Bemused, Catherine shook her head. “Why are you saying his name like that?”