I waited to collect myself before opening the door to Aunt Caroline’s bedroom. Though I was grateful for my escape and for Mr. Lind’s apparent lack of suspicion about his wife, the way he’d looked at me had set my nerves jangling. Country lass I might be, but even country lasses recognize the ulterior intent of certain looks from a man. Dear heaven! He was old enough to be my father!
In the end, I didn’t say anything to Aunt Caroline. To her question about returning the fake books, I told her they were back in their places. “Mr. Lind returned early, but a note came for him, and he’s left again.”
“Good,” she said. “Every hour counts, and I’m anxious to begin sewing the coins into one of my petticoats.”
With ears alert for approaching footsteps, we began to unpick the petticoat’s hem. When we’d finished, she counted out thirty gold coins and bade me take the other half and sew them into the hem of my petticoat. “In case something unexpected happens.”
After I returned with my extra petticoat and sewing case, I found Aunt Caroline staring blankly at the wall.
“You’re not to worry,” I said.
“I’m thinking, not worrying.”
She looked down at the gold guineas pooled in her lap. “Our risk is steadily growing, Abby. Dr. Barnes’s visit. Joseph coming home early.” She shook her head. “We must leave this Sunday. I don’t dare wait longer.”
“Nor do I,” I said, thinking of the look in Joseph’s eyes.
We spoke of other things as we sewed guineas into the hems, taking stitches between to prevent them from sliding. Though I kept my ears tuned to the sound of footsteps and a sharp eye on the clock, my nerves wouldn’t let me rest. “Your husband could return any minute.”
At her nod, I bundled the remaining coins and my sewing case into my petticoat and put them and Aunt Caroline’s petticoat into the wardrobe. “We can finish in the morning.”
It was well we took the precaution, for Aunt Caroline had scarcely slipped back between the sheets before, following a quick rap, Mr. Lind entered the room.
My heart jumped, but Aunt Caroline lay with closed eyes as if she slept.
“I wanted to see for myself how much the larger dose has calmed her,” Joseph said by way of greeting.
I strove to match my aunt’s apparent calmness. “She sleeps more often,” I said as he approached the bed.
After looking down at her, he shook her shoulder and spoke brusquely. “Caroline.”
Knowing that the size of her pupils might give her away, Aunt Caroline’s eyes only fluttered.
He spoke her name again.
“What . . . do . . .” she said in a slurred voice.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I . . .” The word drifted away in a sigh, and her head sank deeper into the pillow.
Her husband nodded in satisfaction. “The larger dosage seems to be working well.”
“It does.”
“That being the case, will you dine with me on Friday evening?”
Aunt Caroline’s mouth jerked slightly, but since her husband’s attention was focused on me, he didn’t notice.
“Friday?” I echoed, hoping my sudden panic didn’t show.
“I’ll ask Mina to fix a special meal,” he went on in a smooth voice. “And wear the pink gown you wore to the Nichols’s dinner party.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“Young Nichols mentioned how lovely you looked. Since I was deprived of the pleasure, I wish to claim the honor on Friday.”
“But . . .”
“No false modesty, my dear.” With a smile like the one he’d given me earlier, he started for the door. When he reached it, he turned and added, “By the by, I noticed that the laudanum bottle is running low. Make certain you don’t let it run out.”
“I plan to go to the apothecary in the morning,” I said, my voice not entirely steady. Thank heaven I’d continued to empty the bottle.
“Good.” With another unsavory smile, he quit the room.
Aunt Caroline and I stared at each other after he left, her eyes filled with worry, mine likely mirroring her dismay.
“He’s despicable!” she finally hissed. “His friend’s daughter!”
“And he’s still monitoring the laudanum,” I added, though my mind, likely like hers, still heard his caressing tone as he’d said, “My dear.”
“We must think of an excuse . . . though we can’t use my illness or hysterics again.”
Before we could say more than a word or two, another rap came.
“Missy,” Mina called.
My heart resumed its regular tempo as I called, “Come in.”
The sight of Mina’s dark, placid face eased some of my tension.
“I brung you some dinner,” she announced. As she set the tray on the table, she gave me a measured look. “What’s wrong, Missy?”
“Mr. Lind asked me to dine with him on Friday evening.”
Mina’s large brown eyes widened. “Laws! Why he want to do such a no ’count thing?”
“Because he’s a no ’count man,” my aunt stated.
Mina’s shoulders lifted in a big sigh. “He that all right, but I never thought he’d do it in his own house . . .” Her voice broke off. “We cain’t let it happen.” But as her gaze met mine, I think she realized that too many excuses had already been made and that we might do more harm than good if we tried to prevent it.
When Mina made to leave, she jerked her head at me in an invitation to follow her. Neither of us spoke until we were in the corridor.
“Jake and Ezra know where Grind Street be,” she said in a low voice. “Jake cain’t get away to take us, but Ezra can.”
“Us?” I asked.
“Jake said it not the best part of town for a lady to be goin’. Said it best if Ezra and I go with you.”
“Where is it?”
“In the west end, not far from the mill pond.”
“I need to buy more laudanum in the morning. Can you and Ezra take me to Grind Street after that?”
“We kin.”
She left with a troubled face, and neither my aunt nor I had any appetite for our dinner.
***
The next morning, after Aunt Caroline and I had eaten and the breakfast tray was returned to the kitchen, she again attempted walking. This time I moved the chair a step farther away from the bed, and she had strength enough to reach it without mishap. After she’d repeated the process, I left her to rest.
A few minutes later, basket in hand, I was on my way to the apothecary shop.
When I failed to see any sign of Jake or Mr. Gridley in the stable yard, I paused at the gate into the alley and slipped a folded paper with the address of the lease into the hiding place with the hope that Gideon would check the gatepost before the day was over.
Then I set my steps to a brisk pace and soon reached the cobbled street fronting the apothecary shop. The owner greeted me cheerfully, and but a few minutes later, I was back on the street with a paper-wrapped bottle of laudanum in my basket. I spied Mina across the way, her height and brightly colored turban setting her apart from others on the street.
“Where’s Ezra?” I asked when I reached her.
“Had to run an errand on King Street. Said he’d meet us there.”
Goodwives and maids made their way along the street with us, their intent likely the fish market near the wharf rather than King Street. Red-coated soldiers were in abundance, usually in groups of two or three, the heavy sound of their boots and the sight of their guns making me all the more eager to find the ammunition.
Mina’s expression was worried, and she said little as we walked.
“Is something wrong?” I finally asked.
“Just havin’ a bad day.”
Before I could ask more, Ezra jumped down from a wooden crate to join us. His brown eyes were bright with anticipation, and the gleam of his white teeth was wide against the black of his skin. That he was pleased at the importance of being our guide was evident, and his gait as he led the way was a wee bit cocky.
The day was overcast, and a bank of lingering fog obscured Castle Island. Even so, the heat was building.
As we made our way west from King Street, homes replaced businesses in a mixture of clapboard houses and the taller brick homes of the rich.
Missing Mina’s cheerful conversation, I said, “I hope you’re not worrying about the dinner with Mr. Lind on Friday.”
She shook her head. “Just havin’ a bad day,” she repeated.
“A bad day in the kitchen?”
Sensing that my questions wouldn’t end, she finally said, “I don’t want to worry you none, but Jake don’t like us goin’ to Grind Street. He said it no place for his wife or a lady . . . Ezra neither.”
“Surely it can’t be that bad.”
Her steps slowed. “You ever hear of Mount Whoredom?”
I shook my head, but since I read my Bible, I had a fair idea of what she meant.
“The street you’re lookin’ for is close to that hill, and the kind of women it was named after live in houses next to Grind Street.”
Understanding came, not only of Mina’s meaning but also of why Mr. Lind had leased a building in such a disreputable area. No wonder Dr. Williams couldn’t find the hiding place. I gave Mina a level glance. “I still want to see it.”
Her full lips tightened. “Figured you would.”
“You don’t have to come with me if . . .”
“You think I let you go there alone? Ain’t you or Ezra goin’ to such a place lessen I go with you.” Straightening her shoulders, she called to Ezra who was a ways ahead. “You stay close. You hear?”
Ezra gave a reluctant nod and waited.
Crossing a street, he led us into a cobbled courtyard where a large wash pot sat on a fire and a woman pumped water into a bucket while a small child clung to her drab-colored skirt. Clothes flapped in the breeze from a rope strung between a pole and a house, and a thin dog growled and barked at our approach.
The woman quickly quieted the dog and returned my nod, and I felt her curious gaze follow us as Ezra led the way across the courtyard and into yet another street.
Suddenly we were in an area of taverns, foul-smelling garbage, and ramshackle buildings gray with grime and age. Mina took hold of my arm and hissed for Ezra to stay close. We hadn’t gone many steps before we saw an ill-dressed man collapsed in a drunken heap near a tavern door. Mina’s hand slipped under the towel covering her basket, and I saw her clutch the hilt of a long-blade kitchen knife.
I was greatly relieved when we left the street of rundown taverns and houses and spied the dilapidated sign of Grind Street.
“Jake said walk fast and don’t stand ’round lookin’ at nothin’,” Mina cautioned as we started down the short street fronted by four or five buildings.
Looking down the seemingly deserted street, I wondered why Jake had given such cautious words. When a burly man stepped out of the second building, I knew why.
“What’s yer business here?” he demanded.
Mina’s answer came quick. “We’re lookin’ for Green Lane. Is it here ’bout?”
The man gave a derisive laugh that revealed several missing teeth. “Lost, are ya? Keep goin’, and ye’ll find it.”
Mina thanked him, and Ezra gave him a strained grin.
My eyes scanned the next ramshackle structure with broken windows and a sagging door. Then I saw it, the 26 almost indiscernible on the front of the end building. Instead of broken glass, the windows and door were boarded up, the color of the newer boards a contrast to the grimy gray wood of the rest of the building.
Before I could study it more, a man pushing a wheelbarrow covered with a tarp rounded the corner. He gave us a suspicious look as he passed, and I thought that a white lady accompanied by a black woman and boy would not be forgotten.
“Don’t look good,” Mina breathed when we’d quit the street.
I nodded, keeping the image of the boarded-up building in my mind.
Our return home was uneventful, with Ezra leading us on a more roundabout route through a better part of Boston. Mina kept up a steady stream of talk, the main point being that she hoped seeing Grind Street would be the end to my foolishness.
“It’s not foolishness. It’s important. If those men hadn’t been there, I’d have tried to peek through the boards to see what was inside.”
“Jake said not to—” Her voice broke off. “Important to who, Missy?”
I didn’t answer, the two of us standing in front of a tailor shop while a wagon rolled past and Ezra looked back in impatience.
“Important to who?” Mina repeated.
“To Mr. Whitlock.”
Mina blinked, her expression immediately changing. “You sure ’bout this?”
I met her uncertain gaze. “I am.”
The black woman let out a long breath. “Then I guess I gotta help you.” Shaking her head, she muttered, “May the Good Lord help us.”
I made no answer, already determined not to put Mina or Ezra at any more risk. Instead, I set my mind to making plans. Mina wouldn’t approve, and I knew Gideon, in his concern and need to protect me, would be furious. Nonetheless it was something that needed to be done. By the time I reached home, I knew I would return to 26 Grind Street that night to see if that building actually housed ammunition.