My Name is Resolute

To ready for the trip I had folded my skirt up and held it with small ties of yarn, hidden in pleats and folds, covering my petticoats with an outer skirt made of roughest sacking that, when in town, could be folded up and tied. The sky was clear, but as we trudged through a world of mud as I could never have imagined, the road so cut with the travelers and wagons and slow going for all, the travel was too much labor to talk or sing as before. I pined for the seacoast and home. Nearing the coast I could sense the difference in the air; albeit grimed with the presence of so many people, it still held the smells of the shore.

 

Stopping at a pathway between houses, I folded up the mud-splattered sackcloth, let out the yarn, and dropped my better skirt over the sacking. I was proud of this linen, finely woven by my own hand and stitched in good style. Plain in design, but not without ornament. I had taken care, though I had done it with so little color available to me, the frills and embroidery in natural colors but intricate patterns made a statement I thought elegant simplicity. No Quaker garb, this.

 

At Barnabus’s shop I sold my woolen for silk thread. I sold my linen for an alabaster vial of indigo, dyes of black and crimson, plus twice as much fine linen tow. I put my coin, nearly ten pounds in value, in my stockings. When I required Jacob to go to the wharves to see if any had left word from my brother August, he was not pleased to do it, but we did walk there. Now little was left of my notes, the ink faded almost away. One was missing. Could I dare hope someone had found it and knew the writing, knew August Talbot and showed him? Might we meet him on the road?

 

Jacob shadowed me as if my safekeeping were his sole charge. I asked him if we could call at Lady Spencer’s home. I meant to renew myself to Lady Spencer, to ask her to speak to her acquaintances about August, and failing that, whether she knew of someone traveling to the Indies to whom I could apply as companion.

 

Jacob insisted upon the tradesmen’s entrance at the back. I left him and Cullah at the path and went straight for the front. Oswald opened, wearing his usual stony expression, his nose almost too high as he looked over my clothing. I said, “Please tell Lady Spencer that Miss Talbot of Two Crowns Plantation is calling.”

 

He bowed without a word, leaving me in the foyer. I supposed Jacob and Cullah went to the back of the house. I checked for mud on my hem. Oswald took me to the better parlor this time. On seeing her my spirits lifted until I discovered Lady Spencer was not alone. Wallace stood near the fireplace not far from Serenity Roberts. Mistress Roberts, America, and Portia sat together on a sofa. I bowed to each in turn. Oh, my heart. I came near to making some whimper at seeing handsome Wallace so elegantly turned out, so finely dressed in satins. His chiseled mouth smiled at me with warmth and surprise, and I was filled with the memory of his lips upon mine. I felt my face coloring and turned away from him.

 

“What a lovely surprise, Miss Talbot,” Lady Spencer said, her tone cool.

 

“Thank you for receiving me, Lady Spencer, but I cannot stay. I called only to ask after your health and that of your company. I leave you my best wishes.” I forced myself to smile at Mistress Roberts. America grinned merrily at me. “Good afternoon, madam. Young ladies. I hope your family is well.”

 

Lady Spencer said, “Wallace and Miss Roberts have just announced their engagement to us. We are all most joyful over it.”

 

A pain pierced me. I fought to control my lips’ quivering. “A most joyful occasion,” I said. “Congratulations to you, Wallace. Many happy returns.”

 

Serenity smiled at me with the look in her eye of a cat having stolen a juicy morsel from the mouth of another cat. She held her hands in her lap, curled, like paws, I thought. “Thank you, Miss Talbot. We shall be supremely happy. We will marry in a month and journey to Wallace’s plantation.”

 

“Only a month?” I asked, fixing my face in a smile that hid my surprise. “I am sure you will have much to do in that time, creating a trousseau. How fortunate that you have your mother and sisters to help you.”

 

“I hear you are a seamstress now. And a spinster. A weaver, that is the word.”

 

America said, “And you live in the woods with the crazy granny and two louts.”

 

“America!” Mistress Roberts’s hand dashed out to pat America’s arm in rebuff. “We have not heard anything of the sort.”

 

I turned to Lady Spencer. “The committee came to my dwelling, Lady Spencer. I am sure they were satisfied that such is not the case.”

 

Serenity said, “We wish to buy fine linens. I want the whitest white. What do you have to sell? I shall need a seamstress for the simples. Of course, a qualified dressmaker will be doing the fine garments.”

 

Lies slid from my mouth as rain fell from the clouds. I formed a face of curious puzzlement. “To sell? Why, Serenity, I have no wares to sell. I sew for myself as many women do, from the governor’s wife to the poorest milkmaid. If you wish to buy you must seek a merchant.” I raised my hand in a slight gesture I thought showed off the ruby ring on my first finger.

 

“I would hire you to make the simples.”

 

“I am not for hire.”