Shattered Moments (17 page)

August
1779

Virginia

Abbie tiptoed away from the crib as Diana snored softly, her mouth slightly open in sleep.  She’d be out for at least two hours, giving Abbie a much-needed break.  She had Finn’s shirts to mend, and a torn hem to repair, followed by dyeing some old garments that still had some wear left in them but needed to be spruced up.  She’d boil up some madder root to dye them a dark red, which would cover all manner of sins, such as stains and discoloration of the fabric from being washed and dried in the sun so often, but first, she had to attend to the shirts.

Annie and Sarah were in the kitchen, helping their mother with dinner, so they’d listen up
for Diana in case she woke up.  Abbie stepped outside, heading for the bench beneath the maple tree.  She loved that spot; it was private and quiet, the perfect place to think and dream.  In this case, it was a place to worry.  Finn still hadn’t returned, and she was starting to fret, doing mental arithmetic in her mind of how long it would take him to get to Savannah and back.  He should have been back at least a day ago, but she had to be patient.  Maybe he had to wait to make contact or needed time to rest.

She smiled as Diana appeared around the corner of the house, Nathanial trailing her like a puppy.  He hardly ever let her out of his sight, his eyes anxious and round in his pale face. 
He was wearing old breeches left over from when Jonah was a child, which made him suddenly look like a little man.  Diana normally kept him in gowns, but Mrs. Mallory felt that a boy going on two should be toilet-trained, and she took over the task with zeal, making poor Nat use the pot every half hour until he learned how to ask for it himself when he needed to go.  He seemed to like wearing breeches and a shirt, and smiled happily as he sat down on the grass beneath the tree with a carved pony that his grandpa made for him over the last few days.

“May I join you?” Diana asked, sitting down on the bench
before Abbie had a chance to even respond.

“It’s so quiet here, so very quiet,” Diana said.  “I’m not used to that.  It was always noisy in New York, soldiers cantering down the street, vendors selling their wares, and ships being unloaded at the docks
— I miss it.  It’s better for Nat though.  He loves it here.”

“Did he live with you at the brothel?” Abbie asked, pulling the needle through the fabric, her eyes on her work.

“He did for a short time.  I used to take him down to the kitchen as the clients started to come in the evening.  No man wants to deal with a mewling baby when he’s feeling amorous,” Diana said with a rueful smile.  “Sometimes he cried and cried because he was hungry, but I couldn’t see to him.  Madam Mabel was furious because he disturbed the clientele.  She threw me out when Nat was two months old.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I went to Deborah.  She’s a friend who hid Sam for a while.  She has a child of her own, so she was able to watch Nat while I got whatever business I could at the docks.  It was different than working at the brothel.  They took me against the wall, or sometimes just wanted me to…  Never mind; I shouldn’t be telling you this.  I’m sorry.”  Diana looked contrite, her cheeks stained pink by shame.  Nat seemed immune to what his mother was saying, his eyes fixed on the clouds floating overhead, the pony forgotten for the moment. 

“Nat, come have a bun fresh out of the ove
n,” Sarah called, waving to him from the house.  Nat looked up at Diana, who smiled and told him to run along.  “Never pass up a fresh bun, my boy,” she said, giving him a quick kiss before he toddled off.

“Diana, I know it’s none of my business, but how did you get into
prostitution?  What of your family?” Abbie asked, thinking that her parents would do anything in the world to protect her and the other children from that kind of life.  Diana’s family must be dead, or she wouldn’t be in such a predicament.

“It’s not a pretty story,” she said, sighing.  “I try not to think on it too much, but sometimes I still dream of those days
, and I wake up crying.”

“You don’t have to tell me.  I didn’t mean to upset you,” Abbie mumbled, ashamed of herself for being so insensitive.

“You have a right to know; after all, I’m almost a part of your family now.”  Diana began to talk, her eyes fixated on the clouds floating overhead.  Maybe she was too embarrassed to look at Abbie, or maybe she was seeing her life floating in front of her eyes instead.

“I was born into a happy family, a family where parents loved each other and I was cherished and cosseted.  There was me and my brother.  My father worked at the docks
, and my mother took in sewing to supplement the income.  She nearly went blind sitting up night after night, sewing by candlelight.  She didn’t mind though because it was for us.  I was thirteen when she died and my brother six.  My father was heartbroken; he’d loved her since he was a boy.  There was never anyone else for him.  It was his grief that made him careless.  He got in the way when a heavy crate was being lowered from one of the ships and it crushed his chest.  He died in horrible agony, calling for his dead wife.  Sid and I were left on our own, and the money my mother stowed so carefully in a little tin ran out within two months.  I took in sewing from her clients, but it wasn’t enough to pay rent, buy food, and keep us warm in the winter, and it was a cold winter that year.  The icy wind off the East River was enough to freeze you in your tracks.”

A
single tear ran down her cheek, making Abbie reach out and take her hand.  “Sid was always crying that he was hungry and kept asking when our parents would come back.  He was so sad.  One day, I went to buy some bread, but I didn’t have enough money because I’d already bought some milk for Sid.  The baker said I could pay him in other ways.  I didn’t understand what he meant, but he gave me the bread and told me to come back at closing time.  His wife was upstairs cooking supper, so he was alone in the store.  He took me to the back and told me to get on my knees and make him happy.  I had no idea what he wanted, but he explained, and I bolted.  I didn’t go back for days, but eventually the bread ran out, and so had the money.  There was nothing to eat.  The money I made was barely enough to pay the rent, and if we got thrown out, we’d freeze to death on the streets.  I went back to the shop.  I did what he wanted and continued to do it once a week.  In return, he gave me bread and even a spice cake for Sid.”

“I’m so sorry, Diana,” Abbie whispered.  She’d been loved and cared for all her life.  Both her parents were alive and well
, and she’d never known cold or hunger.  And here was this poor orphaned girl who had to choose between selling her favors and starving. 

“Don’t be; we survived.  A lot of others didn’t.  I quickly discovered that I could get just about anything I wanted as long as I was discreet.  All these men had wives and children; some even had daughters my age.  They thought that as long as they didn’t actually stick
their prick in me, they weren’t being unfaithful to their wives or sinning in the eyes of God.  I wasn’t interested in the logic, just the money.  Sid and I managed to live that way for three years.  We had enough money for rent and food, and I even managed to put something by in my mother’s tin.  I still took the sewing in, and did some cleaning so no one would start to question how we managed on our own.”

“What happened then?” Abbie asked, curious why things changed.

“I met a girl who worked in a brothel.  She said that she had a roof over her head, hot food, and that the soldiers and sailors were usually kind and paid well.  They even gave her presents, and occasionally brought her treats like sweetmeats and candy.  I wouldn’t have to worry about rent or keeping warm anymore.  So, I apprenticed Sid to a gunsmith, thinking it was a good trade to have with all the warmongering that’s been going on, and went to Madam Mabel’s. She took me in and taught me how to protect myself and keep myself clean from the pox, gave me room and board, and a cut of what I made.  By that point, my maidenhead didn’t mean much to me anymore.  I knew I couldn’t afford to wait for a husband to save me from a life of woe.”

“And you never got with child except with Nat?” Abbie asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

“Oh, I did.  Twice before.  Once, I miscarried, and the other time Mabel helped me get rid of it.  See, I couldn’t get rid of Nat.  It’s hard to abort a child when you love the father.”

“So, you
truly love Jonah?” Abbie asked.

“I
truly love Nat’s father,” Diana said quietly.  “I best go now.  I promised to help your mother with the laundry.”  Diana got up, turning to face Abbie, her face suddenly very serious.  “You are very lucky, Abbie.  You have so many people who love you.  Don’t ever take it for granted.”

“I won’t.”

Diana’s eyes never left the pulpit as she irritably adjusted the frilly tucker modestly covering her bosom, and tried to ignore the overwhelming desire to tear it off and run right out of this stifling church.  She hadn’t worn one of those things in ages, probably as long as she hadn’t been to church.  The last time had been when one of the girls at Madam Mabel’s had died of a botched abortion, and Mabel herded them all to the local Protestant church for the funeral.  Diana had been baptized a Catholic, having been born into an Irish family, but she didn’t advertise that fact, knowing that the British soldiers who patronized Mabel’s establishment would somehow feel diminished sticking their pricks into a Catholic whore.  

It didn’t matter really, since she’d given up on God long ago, probably not long after he’d given up on her. 
The story she told Abbie had been embellished to elicit sympathy and make herself look like a victim of her circumstances, but she supposed she was no different from the legions of poor Irish girls who knew hardship from an early age, and had to fend for themselves since they were scarcely older than children.  It was true that her parents loved each other at one time, but her father hadn’t been made careless by grief or crushed by a crate.  He drank himself to death and used up all the money her mother so carefully put by for a rainy day, leaving his children orphaned and penniless.  Diana always knew she wouldn’t spend her days stooped over her sewing as her eyesight failed, or scrubbing pots until her hands bled.  No, that life wasn’t for her.  The first few punters had been difficult, she’d readily admit that, but then it got easier.  There were a few right bastards, but most of the men were nice enough, their loneliness as easy to spot as the red tunics they so proudly wore. 

The soldiers were mostly young, if not all good-looking, but servicing them was much easier than having to deal with older men.  Diana couldn’t abide the wrinkled skin or the sagging flesh as they dropped their
woolen underwear and went to work, grunting and panting with effort for the few minutes it took them to finish.  It wasn’t even worth pretending for those men; they didn’t expect it.  The young soldiers did, though.  They wanted to know that she was enjoying herself and not just lying there counting the moments until they would pay her and leave. 

Sometime
s she did enjoy herself, as she had with Sam.  She’d been drawn to him from the moment Jonah introduced them.  He was so handsome and charming, with none of that British reserve that made the soldiers appear as if they had a rod stuck up their arse.  Sam was funny and playful, making her laugh despite her impenetrable guard, and taking the time to pleasure her before satisfying himself.  She hadn’t been used to that, hadn’t expected it from a customer, but then he wasn’t just a client; he was a contact, and a rebel like herself.   Jonah was one too, but despite his good looks, she never gave him a moment’s thought.  He wasn’t the type of man she found attractive.  He lacked confidence and arrogance, so abundant in his lovely brother. 

Poor Jonah, she’d never meant to use him this way, but naming him as the father bought her some time to rethink her strategy
, and approach the situation with some subtlety rather than go in guns blazing.  That would never work with Sam, and she’d been a fool to try, although getting the family to accept her had been easier than she’d expected.  Abbie and Finn named their daughter after her –
what a hoot
, she thought with a wicked smile, before noticing the displeasure of the minister and wiping the smirk off her face.

Diana still had no idea what had possessed her to allow Sam to touch her without protection.  She’d always stuffed a vinegar-soaked rag deep inside herself to block the men’s seed and hopefully kill it on contact.  Mabel had taught all the girls how to look after themselves and expected them to be diligent in their effort.  Unwanted babies weren’t welcome at the brothel, and Mabel had little sympathy for girls who’d been negligent and managed to get with child despite the weekly lecture they got from their Madam on the importance of protection and douching after each client.  She’d used the rag with Sam the first few times, but then she “forgot” to put it
in, enjoying the feel of him inside her rather than the uncomfortable feeling of the rag being pushed up against her womb. 

Of course she’d gotten pregnant, as she knew she would, and she wouldn’t hear of getting rid of it.  Sam had been nice and kind
; had come from a good, well-to-do family.  He’d take care of her and his son, and give her the life she secretly yearned for.  She’d whored long enough, and she was more than ready to turn respectable and leave the old days behind, but she hadn’t bargained on him being married; he wasn’t the type.   The sight of his uptight British wife nearly made her laugh out loud, but she’d been crying on the inside.  What was she to do now?  He was clearly in love with her and their little sprat who was only a little younger than Nat. 

Diana fidgeted in her seat, wishing the sermon would finally end
, and they could all go back and have their Sunday dinner.  She was always hungry since she came to Virginia.  She supposed it was all this fresh air, or maybe the fact that there was very little of interest to do but eat.  She tried not to think too much on it, but she had to admit that this life simply wasn’t for her.  Getting up at the crack of dawn to start the chores, and then working through most of the day with breaks only for meals and tending to the children, wasn’t what she’d bargained on.  She thought the Mallorys would have a few Negro slaves to do the hard work, or at least an indentured servant or two, but she’d been mistaken.  They weren’t nearly as well-to-do as she expected, and a life of hard work wasn’t what she’d come for.  She was used to sleeping late, having a leisurely breakfast with the other girls, and then having a few hours to herself before the first client of the day presented himself at the brothel. 

Oh, the bliss of having her own room.  She was sharing with Sarah and Annie, who asked her endless questions and fawned over Nat as if they’d never seen a
child before.  Of course, it was nice to have a bit of help.  They were only too happy to take him outside to sit in the sunshine, point out clouds and various birds, and tell him stories.  Nat soaked up the attention, thrilled to be in the care of someone who actually enjoyed being with him. 

Diana had never realized how much work a
child could be.  Between the feedings, night wakings, and a mountain of soiled clouts, she barely had time to work.  Mabel had taken pity on her and allowed her to stay on almost until she gave birth; some men enjoyed that type of thing, but she’d asked her to leave once the baby was born.  Diana wouldn’t be able to service customers for at least a month, and no man wanted to have a screaming wean in the room while he did his business.  

She
went back when Nat was a month old, but was promptly dismissed again after a few weeks; Mabel’s irritation with the screaming baby mounting daily until she gave vent to her anger and threw Diana out for good.  She’d always planned to travel to Virginia to find Sam, but it proved harder than she thought.  She’d only known him as Patrick Johnson, and now she had to discover his real name and address.  That took some doing, but finally, she had what she needed and started her journey — another surprise.  Traveling with a baby was hard enough, but finding ways to where she was going was even more difficult.  There was no direct route, so she had to take coach after coach, get lifts from farmers, and once a willing British colonel, until she finally made it to Williamsburg.  It had taken weeks, and she was exhausted and nearly broke. 

And now she needed a new plan, for the old one just blew up in her face like a puff of smoke from a smelly cigar. 
How long would it be before Sam confessed to his parents that Nat was really his, and Diana had used Jonah as a scapegoat just to wheedle her way into the family and use her proximity to Sam to try and destroy his marriage?  Abbie didn’t seem to know anything, but she had a few days at best before her secret became common knowledge.

Diana rose from her seat and walked down the nave of the church
; her head held high and her heels clicking on the dusty wooden floor.  She ignored the whispered comments or the curious stares as she opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.  She was done with God, and to hell with them all.