A Lady of Hidden Intent (39 page)

“Did he confess?” Catherine questioned.

“No, but he didn’t have to. The mounting evidence was revealed, and witnesses came forth to bear testimony that it had been Baker all along who had masterminded the slave trade onboard the Newbury ships. Further evidence revealed by your father’s bookkeeper showed the double set of records. The man was given immunity from charges if he would willingly testify to being bribed by Baker and paid to keep the matter from Mr. Newbury.”

“And all of it under my nose,” Newbury said, shaking his head.

Catherine gripped her father’s hand to remind herself that he was really there—really safe from harm.

“Your father is free and his reputation has been restored to him,” Leander added.

“It’s a happy ending to a horrible nightmare,” her father told them.

“I should say so,” Mrs. Arlington said, shaking her head. “A more fragile person would not have survived. You are a remarkable man, Mr. Newbury, but that does not surprise me. Your daughter is also quite impressive.”

Catherine saw him smile. His pleasure was evident. “She is that,” he murmured.

“Lee, Carter . . . let us go and give Catherine some time alone with her father. We can come together again for supper,” Judge Arlington suggested. Even now he was reaching for his wife’s hand. “Come, my dear.”

Catherine was grateful for the judge’s sensitivity to her need. She waited until everyone had gone and the sitting room door had been closed before falling into her father’s arms.

“I missed you so much,” she sobbed, unable to stop the tears. “I worried every day about what they were doing to you and what horrible conditions you might have to endure.”

“It was not easy, I will not lie. However, it is not something we should dwell on either. I will not tell you stories of my time in prison, for it is not for such delicate ears. But I will say this: My freedom is so much more precious than ever before.”

Catherine sniffed back tears and raised her head from his shoulder. “And what would you like to do with that freedom, Father?”

He smiled. “Live my life to the fullest. I don’t want to waste even a moment.”

She frowned and looked away, uncertain of how to broach plans for the future. Would he expect them to return to England? Or did he even plan to return?

“You seem troubled, Cat. What is it?”

“I . . . well . . . you know about Mr. Danby—Carter.”

He smiled. “That he wishes to marry you? That he was responsible for seeing me set free?”

“Yes.” She bit at her lower lip. “Father, I’ve already told Carter that we needed to wait and see what your situation turned out to be. If you were sickly and needed help, I wanted to make certain you knew I would be there to care for you. I also wanted your blessing.”

“Cat, you always have my blessing. Mr. Danby seems to be a remarkable young man. Mr. Arlington tells me that your Carter’s faith in the Lord is quite strong. He also tells me that Carter is a man of determination and sensibility. Would you agree?”

“Oh, most assuredly. Carter is very considerate and attentive. There have been so many ways in which he’s come to my rescue. He is a good man, Father, and I love him so dearly.”

Her father smiled. “Then that is all I really care about. Life is far too short and unpredictable to play games where the heart is concerned. What I wouldn’t have given for another twenty years with your mother. I miss her more than I could ever express.” He sobered and took hold of Catherine’s hands. “You are so very much like her. You have her dark eyes and heart-shaped face. I feel as though I’m looking at a living painting of her when we first met.”

“I hope that gives you pleasure and not pain,” Catherine said softly.

“It does. It pleases me greatly. It pleases, too, to hear from the Shays how industrious you were for my cause. I always knew you to be a survivor. When I sent you away with Selma and Dugan, I knew you would find the separation painful. But I also knew you would bolster your courage in the Lord and stand fast.”

“There were times when I was not that courageous, Father. Times when I despaired, I’m sorry to say.”

“We all have those moments, but the important thing is to move beyond them. I had to do that as well, and now here I am. And here you are.”

“And where do we go from here?” Catherine asked.

“Well, you will marry your young man.”

“And you, Father? What do you desire to do?”

He smiled. “I’m not such a young man anymore. I will perhaps invest my money and live a quiet and comfortable life spoiling my grandchildren.”

“Carter has a job awaiting him in Washington—not far from here. He plans . . . well, it would be necessary to move there. Would you be opposed to remaining in America and living there also?”

“Not at all. I have put England behind me, at least for the time. There may come a time when I will return—perhaps as my age advances, so that when I die I might be buried beside your mother and brothers.”

“Don’t talk of such things. I’ve only just gotten you back,” Catherine said.

“Don’t fear such things,” her father countered. “God holds the future for us. We needn’t fear it—especially not death. Christ overcame the grave that we might have eternal life if we but put our faith in Him. We have done that, and there is no need to be afraid—whatever the future holds.”

“I know you are right,” Catherine said, nodding. “Still, I would like to know that you might remain close by in the years to come. At least for a little while.”

“Then I will,” her father replied. “I will come with you and Carter, but I will find my own place to live. Newly married people need time alone, and I will not impose upon you.”

“You could never be an imposition, Father. My future is so bright—with the two men I love most.”

Three weeks later, Catherine married Carter in a double wedding ceremony with Winifred and Leander. She could not have imagined anything more perfect. The Danby ballroom was filled to capacity with well-wishers and the curious. Mrs. Danby had made the wedding a remarkable social occasion despite having so little time to accomplish the feat.

Catherine felt like a princess in her own gown of white silk barège. The style was cut somewhat differently from Winifred’s gown. Catherine had designed the creation with a gently rounded neckline and basque waist, but Mrs. Clarkson and her girls had been the ones to bring the gown to completion. They were even on hand to help her prepare, including Dolley, who dressed her hair in the same cascading manner that she’d fashioned for the masquerade. A veil of antique French lace, given to her by Mrs. Clarkson, adorned Catherine’s head with a beautiful comb of pearl and gold—a gift from Carter’s mother. And around her neck Catherine wore a delicate necklace of sapphires and gold, a belated Christmas present from her new husband.

Upon the conclusion of their wedding vows, Carter smiled. “Well, Mrs. Danby, there are no masks between us this time. Shall we share a kiss without all of the secrets that kept us apart?”

“Most assuredly, Mr. Danby.” Catherine abandoned herself to his kiss despite the gathered congregation watching them most intently.

The rest of the day passed as if in a whirlwind. Catherine knew more happiness than she’d ever imagined. She couldn’t help but smile at the way her father seemed to take an interest in Mrs. Clarkson. Perhaps there was a future for the couple.

“Are you ready to go?” Carter asked as she descended the stairs after changing her clothes in Winifred’s old bedroom. “Lee and Winnie are anxious to get to the train.”

“Let me say good-bye to Father,” she said. “I could not leave on my wedding trip without being reassured that he has been seen to.”

Carter laughed. “I think he’s being very ‘seen to,’ if you ask me.” He motioned to the side. “Mrs. Clarkson seems to hold his attention quite nicely.”

Catherine caught sight of her father laughing at something the widow had said. Selma and Dugan were not far away, and they, too, smiled as they met Catherine’s gaze. Selma raised her eyebrows and nodded in Mr. Newbury’s direction as if to suggest the matter bore great consideration. Catherine nodded rather enthusiastically and laughed.

“I think you’re right. Maybe Father won’t be moving to Washington with us after all.”

“Perhaps not,” Carter replied. “Perhaps we shall have to find ways to keep each other company without him.”

Catherine looped her arm through his. “Perhaps we shall.”

EPILOGUE

T
wo years later, Catherine stood in front of the half-finished structure in the heart of Washington. The day was warm and pleasant, with new flowers blooming and birds twittering in the trees. People were everywhere as they enjoyed their Sunday afternoon. Women passed by, and Catherine couldn’t help but smile as she recognized one of her own designs.

“They’ve made great progress,” Carter stated. He smiled with pride at the accomplishment of his plan. “The craftsmen are some of the finest available, and I have been very pleased with their execution of my design.”

“It is a wonder,” Catherine said, noting the three-story Greek Revival building. “I can hardly wait until it’s complete. I’m so proud of you, Carter. What a marvelous mark you will leave on the world.”

“Well, perhaps on this city,” he said. Only the day before, Carter and Mr. Fulbright had received a commission for yet another building. Not only that, but they were often consulted and commissioned to design homes for those in and around the city.

“You will leave your mark as well, Mrs. Danby. For there is probably not a woman in the entire area who has not either coveted one of your designs or who even now is wearing one.
Godey’s
has done much to see your fame increased.”

“And Mrs. Clarkson is quite content with the volume of work given her to reproduce my designs and increase the number of girls she employs to sew them.” Catherine pressed closer to Carter despite the warmth of the beautiful spring day. “It would seem that we make a most creative team, my dear husband.”

“Someone is very tired, and perhaps hungry,” her father declared.

“Ah,” Carter said, smiling, “yet another proof of our creativity.”

Catherine turned to find her father coming toward them, the fussing Zachary Danby in his arms. His howls of protest only increased when he caught sight of his mother’s face. At nine months of age, he was very nearly as demanding as his father, Catherine had determined.

“I believe this young man to be God’s creativity,” Catherine countered. Her dark-haired son only began to cry harder when she did nothing to ease his misery. “Poor baby. I suppose we should make our way home.”

She started to reach for him, but Carter took the boy from his father-in-law instead. He began to talk to the baby in a low, soothing voice. The boy immediately calmed and smiled, even though tears still dampened his cheeks.

How blessed Catherine felt. Her father was happy and prosperous in his life in America. He had taken an interest in helping to manage Catherine’s designs. Not only could he benefit his daughter, he had told her, but it also put him in the company of a certain Mrs. Clarkson, whom, Catherine had on good authority, was soon to become her stepmother.

But even more so, she had her son and Carter, for whom her love knew no bounds. No longer was her past hidden, her future uncertain. Instead, her life had become an intricate design by the Master Creator—a Creator who loved her and had never left her, even in the darkest hours of her life.

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