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Authors: Julia Tagan

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BOOK: A Question of Class
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“Where can we go?” she asked.

Benjamin gave a hoarse laugh. “Nowhere.”

“What do you mean?” She was surprised at the huskiness of her own voice.

“It’s soaking wet out here and we need to get the horses moving again. Bad timing on my part.”

“You’re right.”

She pulled her dress back on and he helped her to her feet. They were both unsteady. Benjamin glanced at the sky.

“It’ll be getting light soon. We should carry on.”

As they made their way back to the carriage and the waiting horses, he spoke so softly Catherine wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. “I want to be clear with you. You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do what?”

“This. To be with me.”

She stopped, irritated. “I realize that. I want to do it. You want to do it.”

“You had to with Delcour. I don’t want you to feel the same way with me.”

“But it’s not like that.” She was frustrated, both physically and mentally. “This is different.”

Catherine placed her hands on her hips, trying to stay in control. She was burning up inside, and wanted relief so much. “Perhaps you think this is what I usually do, throw myself at men? And you don’t want to be added to the list of my conquests.”

Benjamin said nothing. Birds broke into a raucous morning song and filled the silence between them.

A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard. She had opened up to Benjamin during the carriage ride, told him things she had never told anyone. She had let down the mask she wore day in and day out, trying to be fancier than she was. But in the end, she was only a girl from Bridgeport who had nothing but her looks to carry her through the day. And with Benjamin, that wasn’t enough. Even now, after she’d told him everything, he still suspected she was using him in some way.

“We should go,” she said, and for the remainder of the ride, the two drove along in a stony silence.

 

 

12

 

The ships docked at Bridgeport’s harbor brought back memories both pleasant and painful to Benjamin. He was energized by the sailors busy at work on the vessels and the flurry of activity dockside. Part of him loved the sea and being removed from civilization’s constraints. But the work onboard grew tedious, and the days became desolate and repetitive after several weeks or months. Still, the ocean had been his home for many years after he’d fled Haiti, and part of him ached to take to the water. The more time he spent with Catherine, the more he wondered what his master plan was all about. Delcour was a fool and a coward. But so many thoughts of Catherine filled Benjamin’s head they crowded out the ruminations that had kept him up deep into the night the past two decades, imagining his revenge.

Catherine was a complete enigma to Benjamin. Even now, when she was angry with him, her eyes were bright and lovely. He could sense her anticipation at seeing her sister once more and her skin glowed in the morning light. He wished she would look at him, but she refused. If only he’d handled things better beside the river.

Overwhelmed by the sight of her body, and her bare skin, he had desired her more than anyone. And then he’d ruined it. He had somehow said the wrong thing, but he was exhausted from the drive and right now all he wanted was to find an inn as soon as possible and sleep for several hours. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to think clearly when he needed to.

“There’s an inn a little further down this road,” she said. “Go left at the fork.”

Benjamin followed her directions and pulled up in front of a three-story building with a long front porch lined with several mismatched chairs.

“I’ll go inside and tell them I’m your servant and we need two rooms,” he said. “Be sure to act the part. We don’t want to raise suspicions.”

The proprietor barely glanced at Benjamin as he registered under false names. He went back outside, extended his hand to help Catherine down from the carriage and escorted her inside.

“I do appreciate your help,” she said to the proprietor. He was an older man with spectacles on the end of his rather bulbous nose. “Is there any way I can get some breakfast sent to my room? I’m hungry after the long journey.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll have the cook send up coffee and rolls. Is there anything else you need?”

“No.” She turned to Benjamin. “I’m going upstairs to freshen up. Make sure the horses are attended to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a curt nod.

“And be sure to freshen up yourself. You are rather ripe.”

The proprietor stifled a laugh.

“Of course, ma’am,” Benjamin muttered under his breath.

He went back outside, but not before hearing her complain in a loud voice to the proprietor about how difficult it was to find manservants of even average intelligence.

The horses were exhausted, and Benjamin arranged to have them settled in stalls with hay and water. He took the servant’s entrance into the inn and followed the directions of one of the maids to a room on the top floor. Although the room was tiny and had a rather lumpy bed, its garret window had an expansive view of the harbor.

“There’s fresh water in the basin.” The maid lingered in the hallway for a moment. “Would you like me to bring up some bread, cheese and ham for you?”

“That would be lovely.” Benjamin smiled through his exhaustion. The maid was young and pretty but plainly dressed, probably what Catherine would look like if she hadn’t escaped out of Bridgeport.

“You look awfully tired,” she said. “Let me know if I can get you an extra quilt. The nights can be chilly here by the waterfront.”

“Thank you, I should be fine.”

The girl tripped off to get him food. Benjamin’s body was aching for Catherine. And rest. He lay down in the bed and fell fast asleep, hearing the sound of Catherine’s moans of pleasure in his dreams.

* * * *

Benjamin woke with a start, not realizing where he was. The events of the past night flashed through his head. Part of him wanted to crawl back into bed and let sleep envelope him once more, but instead he rose and dressed. When he opened the door to his room, he noticed the tray of food the maid had left for him. He devoured it quickly, then walked down to the lobby as Catherine strode in through the front door. She grabbed his arm and led him to a back corner of the small foyer.

“What were you doing outside without me?” he asked. “I thought we had agreed you would stay here while I found Sophie.”

“I couldn’t wait. I bought this cloak and I kept the hood up. No one spotted me. Did you sleep?”

“Yes, I did,” he answered. Catherine was out of breath and several of her curls had fallen from her chignon. She looked beautiful.

She handed him a package. “I bought you a cloak. You’ll need it in this rain. I saw Mr. Allen coming out of his house but I haven’t seen Sophie yet. I know they’ll go to church this afternoon, if Mrs. Allen still keeps to her old habits.”

In their cloaks, Benjamin and Catherine blended into the surroundings, or so Benjamin hoped. They trod up the main street, crowded with mud-splattered carriages. They were officially on the run. In a few hours, Mrs. Daggett would realize they weren’t planning on returning, and send word to Carpenter and to Delcour in Trenton. Benjamin would have to keep an eye out, for both their sakes.

They turned down a side street and passed several large wooden houses, box-shaped and plain with well-tended gardens. Catherine stopped in front of an imposing one in the Federal style painted a blinding white.

“This is the Allens’ house.”

“We can’t stand here,” he said. “It’s too obvious. Keep on moving.”

The front door swung open. Benjamin took Catherine’s elbow and pivoted her around hard in the opposite direction. “Don’t look back. We can’t let them see you.”

“Then look back for me. Tell me if you see her.”

Benjamin peered over his shoulder and saw an older man and woman with a girl walking between them. They were heading toward the main road, all carrying Bibles. He could see the girl had curly hair, in the same reddish hue of Catherine’s.

“I’m sure it’s them,” he said. “And they’re going to church, like you said. You can turn around now, they’re walking the other way.”

Catherine turned and caught her breath. “It’s her.”

They watched together as the trio turned left onto the main avenue of town. Before they did so, the man, whom Benjamin presumed was Mr. Allen, slid his hand down the back of the little girl’s head and let it rest lightly on the back of her neck. Catherine winced.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get her back,” he said.

When he turned back to her, she had tears in her eyes.

“It took everything I had not to scream out her name.”

“You need to wait,” Benjamin said. “This is not going to be easy. They have her on a short leash.”

“They also have no idea we’re here, so we have that advantage. I believe it’s time to repent for our sins.”

He was glad she was still able to joke with him. They needed each other more than ever right now. He still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up so far from his intended plan. But this detour, if it worked, would make Catherine happy and get him access to the documents he needed. He wondered which was more important to him right now.

Benjamin took Catherine’s elbow. “This way. We’ll take a back road and avoid the crowds.”

“Good idea.”

The road narrowed. Dilapidated shacks crowded either side, many with chickens and goats wandering aimlessly in their muddy enclosures. It was as different from the Allens’ street as Benjamin could imagine, even though it was less than a half-mile away. Catherine stopped in front of one of the shacks.

“This is where I grew up.” Her voice gave away no hint of emotion, and she spoke as if she were stating a fact about a bakery or butcher shop she used to frequent.

The roof had several holes in it, and garbage was scattered outside. Near a small shed, a couple of dogs lay in the mud, looking wet and miserable.

Benjamin didn’t know what to say. It was awful. To think Catherine had come from here and made her way to Paris and New York was astonishing. It also explained why New York high society wanted nothing to do with her. She probably only had a couple of good months after she first arrived as Mrs. Delcour before the gossip mill spread across the state border regarding her true origins.

“My mother died giving birth to Sophie. Here in this house. I tried to help, but I was just a child, and I didn’t know what to do. After that, my father began drinking. He’d be gone for weeks at a time, and I had to take care of Sophie.” Her voice faltered.

“You were barely a child yourself.”

“I should have done more to protect her. I tried stealing food and milk, or begging, but Sophie would cry in the night and all day. She was hungry and I didn’t know what to do.”

“How long did this go on?”

“For six months or so. My father would return and find work, and each time I thought we’d be fine, but eventually he’d get an odd look in his eyes. I knew he’d be disappearing again soon and we’d be on our own.”

“How did the Allens end up taking you in?”

“I was caught stealing from a neighbor’s garden. The judge decided to place us with the Allens, in the hope I’d mend my evil ways. And Sophie was better off, I believed. After we’d been there a few days she stopped crying, and giggled and smiled. I stayed with the Allens because I thought she was in good hands.”

“You couldn’t have known what was going on here.” He thought of his own family, torn apart. “You were a child.”

“Anyway, the old house hasn’t changed much. Maybe I should see if it’s for rent.”

Benjamin could see from her face she was partly joking.

“This is your past,” he said. “Let’s move on.”

She gave him a look of gratitude and they set off to the church. The sermon had already begun when they arrived at the front steps, but the doors were open. It was packed inside and smelled of perspiration and mildew. Benjamin led Catherine to a back pew where they settled in as quietly as possible.

“She’s up near the front,” she whispered.

The minister introduced a young preacher, who came forward to the pulpit. He scanned the crowd and then launched into a tirade against sin and sinners that made the hair on the back of Benjamin’s neck stand on end. The preacher had a narrow, long face and he jabbed his pointy finger toward his audience for emphasis. When the sermon ended, members of the congregation made their way back down the aisle two by two. Benjamin gave Catherine a signal, then stood and moved forward. After Mr. and Mrs. Allen passed by, he stepped in front of Sophie, and Catherine pulled the girl aside. The crowd filled in behind him, and he stayed in his position as they moved down the front steps. A couple of times Mrs. Allen glanced back to find Sophie, and Benjamin blocked her view with his body while pretending to be oblivious of her. She scowled at him, turned and pressed forward. Benjamin followed closely behind.

BOOK: A Question of Class
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