I don’t want to be anything like her. I don’t want to be the special associate of some man. A trophy to be shown off at all the balls and parties. I just want Jefferson, a few friends, and work that makes me happy.
That’s the difference between me and Hardwick, I suppose, and people like him, too. No matter how much they have, it’ll never be enough. They’ll never be satisfied. I don’t want to always want.
“Thank you for the ship,” she says for an opening sally.
I open my mouth to say something possibly rude and insulting, but Mary catches my eye from across the courtyard. She holds up two fingers. The signal that all is ready.
I laugh.
Helena’s eyes—mere blue—flare slightly, the only indication of her shaken confidence. I nod toward her bosom, where she slipped the hastily scrawled deed. “Enjoy your slip of paper.”
Her next words are cold as ice. “What are you talking about?”
I can’t stop my grin, and I don’t want to. “I don’t legally own that ship. I never did. It’s in a man’s name. Even if I did own the ship, I couldn’t sign away the deed.” I bat my eyelashes. “I’m just a little lady. You see, it’s a matter of coverture—”
“Hardwick will testify,” she snaps.
“No, he’s leaving for New York tomorrow. Going to take his millions and buy his way into a political career. The businessman-become-president. He doesn’t care about the Charlotte. Or you. Unless he’s taking you with him?”
For the first time since I’ve met her, I see panic in her eyes. “I . . . turned down his offer to accompany him to New York.”
“And I don’t own the ship.”
She pauses, sizing me up. “You’re too honorable. You wouldn’t use the same laws that are unfair to you to treat another woman unfairly.”
“Not usually. But I don’t care if you were a poor girl down on her luck who found a way to escape some nasty problems. You allied yourself with a monster, so you don’t get concessions.”
It could be a trick of the flickering lantern light, but I might see tears shining in her eyes. “Seems I backed the wrong horse,” she says.
“Do you see that with your power, or are you just guessing?”
“Neither. I knew justice mattered to you, even before I saw into your mind.”
And there it is at last. All our cards on the table, with not a bluff left between us. She does see our thoughts. I suspected it, acted on that suspicion as if it was fact, and yet her admission still chills me. “You can’t own the Charlotte either, as a woman,” I point out. “You’d have to find a man to hold the deed for you. Someone you trust as much as you trusted Hardwick.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t trust him at all. I’d never go to New York with him. But you’re right. To do business here, I’ll have to find someone I trust.” She taps a lip thoughtfully.
I admit, it warms my heart a little to know Helena doesn’t trust Hardwick either. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. “I had several people to choose from,” I say. “It was no problem at all, finding someone to hold the deed for me. Trust is a great benefit of having real friends. I highly recommend trying it.”
She glares. “Don’t act so holier-than-thou with me. People like us don’t have real friends.”
This poor woman. “They’ve proven themselves over and over. Whenever I’ve had trouble that my own abilities couldn’t solve, my friends have been there to help me.”
“Your abilities.” She raises an eyebrow. “Power is more like it. Your power is amazing. Like no gift I’ve ever seen.”
I glance around, making sure no one is near enough to hear our conversation. The music of the band provides perfect cover. “And . . . you’ve seen a lot of gifts?” My question is tentative, even though I want with all my heart to know the answer.
“Not a lot. People like us are very rare. Always women, though. I knew a water dowser who could call water. And I’ve heard tell of others. Menders, who could fix things with the touch of their hand. Storytellers who could make you believe any lie was true. Weather witches, who knew a storm was coming even with a clear horizon, or pull a few drops of water from a cloudless sky. I once heard about a healer who could call on her powers to save a mother and baby in a childbirth gone bad. But I’ve never known of any power in the world like yours.”
My breath stumbles. Other women with amazing gifts, people who can change the world around them for the better. “But you can see the future! Read thoughts!”
She shakes her head. “I glimpse them, at best. My mother called them the second sight. Claimed they came from the old country, way back. Mother to daughter. That’s why she packed up the family and came to the States before the potato famine. She saw nothing but death if she stayed.”
“You must have been young.” I need to know more.
“Born on the boat over. Mother said being born on water gave my powers extra strength. Said I drew on a deep well.”
“She’s gone?”
“I saw her death coming, and so did she. We couldn’t stop it.”
My own mama passed before my very eyes. She always hinted about a childhood gone wrong, got angry whenever I used the word “witch.” Now I know she was hiding powers of her own, and something awful must have happened to her in Boston, something I’ll probably never know.
Helena’s eyes darken with memory—whether hers or mine, I can’t know. She turns as if to leave, but I grab her sleeve. “Wait! I have to know . . . how do your powers work?”
She stares down at my hand on her sleeve, and I let go, my face reddening.
“Why should I tell you anything more? We’ve played nice long enough.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I’ve never met anyone else who . . .”
She turns to go.
“Helena, I will give you the Charlotte.”
She whirls back around.
“Well, I’ll give half of it to you,” I quickly amend. “If you tell me everything you know, and if you stop helping Hardwick right this instant.”
“I thought it wasn’t yours to give,” she snaps. But she can’t hide the sudden hope in her eyes.
“The gentleman who holds it in trust for me would give it away on my word, no questions asked. Look into my mind and know it to be true.”
She is silent a long moment, studying me, considering. Her eyes glow violet, and I wish I could see what she was seeing.
“I even know someone who could hold it in trust for you,” I coax. “Someone who would never go behind your back.”
At last she says, “I believe you.”
“Do we have a deal?”
She glances over her shoulder, as if Hardwick might suddenly appear in the gardens. Then she says, “We have a deal.”
All the air leaves my body in a rush. “So,” I say, grinning. “Tell me how your power works!”
She shrugs, seeming more resigned than happy with our new arrangement. “Let’s say a fellow, like your friend Henry, comes into Hardwick’s gambling den to win some money. I get glimpses of him—his intent, his need, a direct thought if it’s strong enough, sometimes a peek of him at the end of the night. Maybe he’s got all the chips, maybe he’s about even, or maybe he’s flat broke and crying into his mead.”
“How does that help Hardwick?”