I opened my eyes to the sight of golden sunrays on my bedroom wall. Stretching, my mind turned at once to Gideon. The memory of his lips on mine was as fresh as if it had happened but minutes before, and it caused me to smile and hum while I dressed and prepared for the day.
Aunt Caroline was sitting up in her nest of pillows when I entered her room. “You look to be in better spirits than you were when you left me last night,” she observed.
“A bright sunny day always lifts my spirits.”
“Is it sunny?”
“Let me pull back the drapery so you can see for yourself.”
I took perverse pleasure in disobeying Dr. Barnes’s charge to keep the bedroom in near darkness. Though I might fear his next visit, the sight of blue sky and sunlight swallowed the dread. “When you’re stronger, you’ll be able to sit in the sun.” I gave her a questioning look. “Are you ready to try walking?”
She sat up taller. “Before you came, I dangled my legs over the side of the bed.” Pushing back the covers, she proudly showed me what she’d done.
I held out both hands to her. “Can you stand?”
On her first attempt, she sat back before she gained her feet, but on her second try, though her legs trembled, she stood for some time, her hold on my hands steadying her, the smile on her thin face triumphant.
“Wonderful!” I said.
Though she beamed, I could tell she was glad to sit on the bed again and rest.
“We can’t go on many more days without someone discovering you’re not taking the laudanum,” I said. “The maids or your husband could come in before you can pretend you’re asleep or . . .”
A rap on the door sent a jolt of fear through the room. In a trice, Aunt Caroline lay down, and I tucked the covers around her.
“Missy,” Mina called.
Relief spilled through me as I hastily pulled the drapes across the window and went to the door. When I opened it, I was aware of Mina’s worry.
“Jake just sent word by Ezra that Mista Lind told him to wait at the wharf for the boat that be bringin’ Dr. Barnes from Castle Island,” she whispered. “He be bringin’ the doctor to see the missus.”
Neither of us spoke, Mina’s eyes full of questions while my mind scrambled to find the answers.
“Thank you, Mina,” I said in my normal voice. Stepping closer, I whispered, “I’ll have to give her laudanum.”
“Yes’m,” Mina said, though her nod was reluctant and her face still showed worry as I closed the door.
“What is it?” Aunt Caroline asked.
“Dr. Barnes is on his way to see you.”
“Dear heaven,” she gasped. In the next breath, she added, “He’s sure to find out I’m not taking laudanum.”
“I’m going to give you a small dose before he arrives.”
She lifted her lips in protest. “But . . .”
“Remember how the doctor checked your eyes when he came? One look at the pupils and he’ll know you’re not taking it.”
She shook her head as if to argue, but her next words surprised me. “If he can tell so easily, Joseph might notice too.”
“Not if you have your eyes closed and are playing possum.”
Though she nodded, her expression remained troubled. “’Tis a dangerous game we play, Abby. So much can go wrong.”
“I know . . . just as I know you must leave Boston as soon as possible.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
“I have a friend who said he’d help.”
“A friend?”
“We’ll talk of it later. Now we must get you ready for the doctor.”
I went to the shelf and picked up the wine glass. How large of a dose was I to give her? Up to the circle of leaves as I’d done when I’d first arrived or less?
In the end, I settled on half a dose, hoping it would be enough to fool the doctor without causing problems for Aunt Caroline afterward. I felt her eyes on me as I poured the laudanum into the glass, saw them fix on the glass as I carried it to her.
She took the glass without speaking and drank it down in two quick swallows. Then with a sigh, she settled into the pillows and closed her eyes.
As I looked down at her still figure—her dark lashes a graceful arc against her pale skin, the plait of her black hair lying against the whiteness of her nightgown—I wondered if I’d done wrong.
As if she sensed my concern, Aunt Caroline spoke. “Don’t worry, Abby. I’m only practicing playing possum.”
Even so, a prayer formed in my mind that Dr. Barnes wouldn’t notice that her skin wasn’t as sallow or that her cheeks had more flesh.
I prayed the same words when Dr. Barnes entered the bedroom less than a half hour later, his tall frame but a silhouette in the room’s dimness, his movements quick and impatient, just as I remembered.
“Mr. Lind sent a note saying his wife is given to hysterics again. Instead of increasing the dosage of her medicine as I suggested, he sent a second note insisting that I examine her myself.” He set his bag on the bed and bent to look at Aunt Caroline. He studied her for a long moment before he lifted the lid of one eye, then the other.
Both my breathing and heartbeat quickened. Although Aunt Caroline had genuinely fallen asleep within minutes of taking the laudanum, I didn’t know if the dose had been enough to change the size of her pupils.
“Light a candle,” he ordered.
My hand was unsteady as I lifted the flint to do his bidding. Were her pupils too large? Too small?
As Dr. Barnes took the lighted candle, the flame cast flickering shadows onto his thin face, his nose seeming to grow longer, his chin more pointed. Then my attention was on his fingers as they lifted Aunt Caroline’s eyelids and peered long at her pupils.
Stifling a shudder, I put my hands behind my back so he couldn’t see how tightly I clutched them. What did he see? Did he know?
Aunt Caroline roused, and her eyes fluttered opened. “What is it?” she asked, her voice slightly slurred.
“Dr. Barnes has come to see you,” I said.
Her head moved on the pillows. “Don’t bleed me,” she pleaded.
“’Tis for your own good,” he said dispassionately. As he spoke, he handed me the candle and lifted Aunt Caroline’s wrist to check her pulse. “Too fast,” he muttered.
“She is fearful of the bloodletting.”
The doctor lifted his head, his hard gaze locking on mine. “Did I ask for your uneducated opinion? One more word and you shall leave the room.”
“No . . .” Aunt Caroline pleaded.
“Then be quiet, both of you.”
Biting my lip, I took Aunt Caroline’s hand while she grimaced and closed her eyes.
My mind was full of worried questions as Dr. Barnes removed the bleeding cup, tourniquet, and scalpels from his satchel. Had bringing the candle close to Aunt Caroline’s eyes been a good or bad omen? And what did her quick pulse mean?
’Twas hard to say if the doctor’s foul mood, the stuffy room, or heavenly intervention made the bleeding little more than a quick formality, for as I rinsed the cup, the blood it held was much less than before. After the utensils were dried, I handed them to the doctor.
“’Tis just as I suspected. Mistress Lind’s only trouble is that she needs a larger dose of laudanum. How much are you giving her now?”
I quickly retrieved the wine glass and ran my fingernail through the etched vine.
His narrow brow furrowed. “Increase it to here,” he instructed, pointing to a tiny flower above the vine. “That should keep her docile enough.”
And no more trouble than a rag doll, I wanted to say. Fearing the doctor would see my anger, I returned the glass to the shelf while he placed his instruments back into the bag.
“I’ll be giving the same instructions to Mr. Lind when I stop by his place of business to collect my fee. I trust that you can be depended upon to do as both he and I say.”
Only then did I turn to face him, taking great care to keep my expression and voice impassive. “I have always been known to be trustworthy,” I replied.
“Then see that you continue to do so.” He picked up his black bag and strode to the door without giving so much as a second glance to his patient.
Aunt Caroline’s eyes flew open as soon as the door closed. “Do you think . . . ?”
Fearing that Dr. Barnes suspected and listened, I put a warning finger to my lips and quietly went to the door. Hearing nothing, I carefully eased it opened and let out pent-up breath when no one was there. Closing it, I said, “He’s gone. I don’t think he suspects.”
“Thank God.” Aunt Caroline sighed. “When he took so long looking at my eyes, I feared we’d been found out.”
“For now, I think we’re safe . . . but there’s still your husband to worry about.”
“If only Joseph weren’t so clever.” She sighed. “Every day is a risk, and the sooner I leave Boston, the better it will be.” Though her speech was slightly slurred, her voice held determination. “I’d like to go to my daughter in Philadelphia, but that’s the first place Joseph will look.”
“Stowell farm would welcome you.”
“Even when your father and Joseph no longer agree on politics?”
“To Father, friendship is more important than politics.”
“Is your father at Stowell farm?”
I shook my head. “He’s camped with the Mayfield militia not far from Cambridge . . . Reverend Whipple too.”
She studied me for a long moment. “What truly brought you to Boston, Abigail?”
Much as I wanted to tell her, caution stayed my tongue. “Are we not more like mother and daughter than friends?” I asked. “What other reason than wishing to care for you would bring me here?”
“The wish to help your father and the rebel army.”
I stared at her, not knowing what to say. Though her eyes were half closed, her thinking was clearer than I’d thought. “I think we should wait and talk when you’re more yourself.”
Aunt Caroline gave me a sleepy smile. “But we will talk, Abby. We must talk.”
Her eyes closed, and in less than a minute, her heavy breathing told me she’d fallen back into the laudanum-induced sleep. I, on the other hand, was tense with worry, aware that by one small misstep on my part, Joseph Lind would realize what I’d done and that I, along with his wife, knew he’d caused the death of Dr. Williams.
Trying to calm myself, I went to the window and parted the drapes. I needed to know that despite the dangerous path I trod, the sun still shone, flowers bloomed, and birds still lifted their heads to the sky and sang.
***
It was late afternoon when Joseph knocked briefly and opened the bedroom door. Nodding to me as he approached the bed, he said, “Dr. Barnes told me he’s increased the dosage of Caroline’s medicine.”
I became uneasy when he studied her. Thankfully, either Aunt Caroline was truly asleep or she had perfected her game.
“It pains me to see her agitated and giving way to hysterics,” he went on. “The doctor says the new dosage should keep her calmer.” His gaze lifted to me. “Have you given her the larger amount?”
I nodded and crossed my fingers behind my back. “At lunchtime.”
“The new dosage will require you to visit the apothecary more often.”
“I don’t mind.” It took effort to keep anger out of my voice and expression. It pains me to see her so agitated. A feeling of loathing gathered inside me.
I fervently prayed none showed while he lingered to express his gratitude for all I did for his wife. I played my part, smiling and nodding whenever I thought it needful, though his words made me want to shudder. Even so, I was obliged to look after him with a smile fastened on my face until he left.
“Thank heaven he’s gone,” Aunt Caroline whispered when the door closed.
“And for now, he doesn’t seem to suspect.” When she stretched and yawned, I asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Well enough, though I don’t like feeling like my brain is clogged with porridge.” Sitting up, she said, “Now, more than ever . . . we must be on our guard. His seeming gratitude is but a hoax.”
“Father said he was a clever man.”
“Unscrupulous as well,” she countered. She paused before going on. “We must decide what to do next. You said you had a friend who could help me leave Boston?”
I nodded, wondering how much to tell her.
“Is he also a friend of your father’s?”
“He can be trusted,” I said evasively.
Aunt Caroline smiled. “For now, I’ll let that suffice, though you should know that when I wasn’t sleeping, I had time to think and put things together . . . little things that told me Abigail Stowell is very much her father’s daughter.”
“Thank you.” Eager to change the subject, I said, “The main thing is for you to be able to walk so you can leave.”
Her mouth tightened in chagrin. “If only I weren’t so weak.”
“You must practice walking every day . . . eat more too. I don’t entirely trust Alice, so either Mina or I will bring your tray.”
“Alice is curious and likes to gossip,” she said.
“We need to talk about the safest and best time to leave Boston too. Sunday afternoon when everyone has their half day off seems a good time.”
“What about Joseph?”
“I’ve noticed that he usually naps or visits friends on Sabbath afternoons.” As I spoke, a thought came to me. “Maybe my friend can arrange for a fake message to take Mr. Lind away.”
Her eyes lit with amusement. “Mine isn’t the only mind that’s been busy.”
“I’m determined to get you safely away from your husband.”
“And what of you, Abby? You can’t stay in Boston if I go.”
“I’ll have to leave too,” I conceded. “But my hope is that I won’t leave empty-handed.”
My aunt straightened and took my hand. “What can I do to help?” When she saw me hesitate, she added, “Rest assured, Abby, Joseph’s politics aren’t mine. Your father was well aware of this.”
“I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”
She gave a short laugh. “Nothing you could ask me to do could be more dangerous than what I already face from Joseph.”
I leaned close to her. “Are you sure?”
Her steady gaze held. “Yes . . . very sure.”
My fingers tightened on hers. “On the night you learned what your husband had done to Dr. Williams, you said a box spilled onto the floor and you saw a paper that looked like a lease.”
“I did.” The bright look on her face told me she’d guessed my purpose. “And if the lease is to the place where the powder and ammunition are stored, the address would be a great prize for your father and the rebel army.”
“Yes.” I waited, not knowing if, as Father often said, I should have guarded my tongue. Yet every instinct told me I’d done right.
“It would be unsafe for you to go to the library tonight,” she said after a moment. “But tomorrow, after Joseph leaves, I’ll tell you where to look.”
“Tomorrow,” I said. And with a squeeze of our hands, we sealed our bargain.