I gave him a wry look, not sure what to make of his carefree attitude. There were rumors of those who profited from illegally pressing people into servitude—spiriting them away, I believe it was called. If this had ever happened to me, I would be pounding on the doors of every authority from here to Philadelphia, demanding justice. And if that failed, I would have had no qualms about escaping, contract or not.
My breath caught from the memory of Henry’s previous interest in Boston and the long walks he’d taken late at night when first arriving at Brighmor. “Do you know anyone else in the Colonies?” I hoped he hadn’t noticed the strain in my voice.
“My father has an acquaintance who lives in Boston. Why do you ask?” He looked at me with keen interest, seemingly forgetting how he had all but asked me to draw a map showing the quickest route from Philadelphia to Boston less than two weeks ago.
“No reason,” I lied. “I was just wondering.”
He’d given me enough to think about for some time, and I fell silent while I worked the pieces into a clearer picture. Like myself, he had nearly been forced into marriage, and one that might have gotten the King’s notice if he refused. This seemed highly irregular for the son of a retired sailor, unless Henry’s father had been more important, or higher up in command, than I assumed.
Which made the matter of his indenture all the more puzzling. In light of what he had told me, I should have torn the contract into pieces regardless of any protests otherwise. I knew this was the right thing to do, but I couldn’t—not yet anyway.
My head was spinning by the time we got back into the carriage. Henry let the reins rest idly in his hands and turned to me. “Do you think it’s so important for like to marry like?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” I answered hesitantly, unsure about the direction of his question.
“What if two people fall in love who are completely different? Do you think it could work?”
“How different are they?”
“Not even from the same world,” he said, staring at me.
I swallowed hard. “Some differences are too great to overcome. In these cases, I’m afraid the lovers would be destined to a life of misery.”
“So you don’t think love can overcome any obstacle?” he asked indignantly, though his smile said otherwise. “I thought all women were hopeless romantics and believed such things.”
“Only those who prefer fairytales to reality.” I laughed. “In this life, people aren’t so ready to accept what they don’t understand.”
“Then maybe I would prefer to live in a fairytale, if it means the freedom to love whomever I want.” He turned toward the horse and snapped the reins.
As the inertia pulled me back in my seat, I was struck by the similarity of our predicaments. We might not be so different after all. The idea seemed possible for about three seconds. Then I remembered what I was, and almost laughed out loud from the absurdity of such a thought.
*
At the Appletons’, a maidservant showed us into a small sitting room where Matthew and Susanna greeted us happily. Gauging Susanna’s wry smile, I knew at once that our scheme had been discovered. After the promised cake and wine, we slipped into her bedroom.
“So, Matthew told you I was feeling poorly today,” she said when the door was closed.
“I already suspected, since you weren’t at meeting. And if he hadn’t invited me over tonight, I would have come over first thing tomorrow morning with some excuse of my own.”
“It appears that between the two of you, I’m not allowed a bad day to myself.” She laughed good-naturedly and took a seat at the end of the bed. “Do you want to hear everything then, or should I keep to the bigger problems?”
“Oh, you’d better tell me everything,” I said, placing two fingers on her wrist. “Because I’ll just find out later from Matthew anyway.”
While Susanna relayed her various ailments, I counted her pulse and then checked her feet and ankles for swelling. Wanting a better sense of what was going on with the baby, I placed one hand directly on her abdomen and took a quick peek inside where I found the infant girl curled up and peacefully sleeping. Her heartbeat felt weaker than I wanted, but there was still plenty of time for improvement.
“Does the baby kick often?” I asked.
“Mostly at night when I’m trying to sleep,” she said. “It’s a wonder I’ve any energy during the day at all.”
Though she pretended not to be worried during the examination, I could feel her anxiety radiating into me. “Susanna, from what I can tell, your baby is doing just fine and you’re suffering from nothing more than an acute case of indigestion.” While I spoke, my hand rested on her stomach, and a flood of happiness rushed into me from the news.
“How much longer, do you think?” she asked. “I can hardly breathe with his feet pushing into my lungs.”