By this time the whole of little York knew with certainty that I had thrown myself at Mr. Robinson, insisting that I accompany him and his long-suffering wife and small child when they sailed from New York for England aboard the Manhattan.
Emma Robinson had spread this news everywhere, and it was clear that my so-called lover did nothing to set matters straight. This was not a surprise. I had not expected him to have the moral fibre to tell the world that he invited me—for whatever reason—to accompany them. Eliza told me that on her last visit to Emma at Beverley House a week ago, he came into the withdrawing room to tell her that she and Mama must do everything in their power to put an end to my foolishness.
No matter. I was determined to be aboard the Manhattan when it sailed on March 1. If I did not leave York then—for ever—I had no desire to live. Moreover, in the process of accompanying those damned Robinsons, I could make life hell for them.
Getting money was now my main focus. I knew that I could expect nothing from my parents. I tried without success to sell a parcel of land granted to me as the daughter of Loyalists. But the necessary papers required the signature of Papa. I was powerless at that moment, but I determined to think of something.
I spent most of my days in my bedchamber, coming downstairs only for meals or to sneak outdoors when Mama was not around. Though I shared the room with Eliza, she avoided me as much as Mama did, entering only at bedtime and leaving in the morning before I got up. Mama said nothing to me during the day, except occasionally to ask me at dinner to pass the gravy.
It was early afternoon when the doorknocker sounded. Then I heard Lucy’s voice, “Come in, sir. The mistress has been waiting for you.”
Who was this gentleman that Mama had been expecting? I tiptoed to the top of the staircase and looked down. The Reverend Mr. Strachan was putting his coat on the hall rack. I watched as he patted down his hair that had blown about in the cold November wind. Then he crossed slowly into the parlour, almost dragging his feet.
I moved several steps farther down so that I could hear clearly what his visit with Mama was all about.
Mama launched right into her subject. “You know that my husband is overseas, and I am now reliant on your help to keep my daughter from pursuing the Robinsons when they leave for England in February.”
“You must understand, ma’am, that I have not been entirely happy with Mr. Robinson’s behaviour. Everyone in this town thought that he was engaged to your daughter when he left for England to pursue his education. And yet he returned to York with a wife whom he met in London.”
“But that was years ago. Surely now the girl should have accepted her fate. And yet she seems distracted over him. I must stop her from pursuing him and Mrs. Robinson. You must help me.”
“I am reluctant to have any part in this matter.”
I could now hear Mama sobbing. She was babbling “please, please, please.” It was all so wretchedly embarrassing. I could not bear to hear any more of their conversation. I returned to my bedchamber.
* * *
At supper, Mama pushed the food around on her plate, but ate almost nothing. I knew something was afoot, and I was not surprised when she said that she wished to speak to me. “And please stay with us, Eliza.” No doubt she felt more secure with Eliza’s supporting presence.
“I know that you are a victim of an unhappy love affair, Anne,” she said, “and I have—”
“I am not a victim, Mama. You prefer to see me that way rather than facing deeper truths. I suffer because I can find no outlet here in this household that puts such limits on a woman’s role. One of those limits is, of course, that a single woman must never travel alone. It’s a stupid notion, and I have no intention of obeying it. But I shall take the opportunity to travel with the Robinsons—in spite of public censure—and, in doing so, I intend to wreak revenge on them for spreading slander about me. I shall make their voyage very unpleasant. And when I get to England, I shall say farewell to them and to everyone else in this stuffy little town and never return.”
Mama heaved a great sigh. Eliza moved closer to her and put her arm around her shoulder. They both stared at me, frowning.
“I had a talk with the Reverend Mr. Strachan this afternoon, Anne. He suggested that I furnish you with enough money to make the journey. And this I have agreed to do. But you must promise me in return that you will not leave with the Robinsons. Whatever you do in England, I shall have no control over, but I cannot let you leave this house seeming to be a lovelorn pauper clutching to the coattails of your former lover.”
“I must go with them, Mama. And I must go openly without being furtive about my actions. As I have told you, I do not really care if everyone in town believes the gossip about thwarted love. When I reach England, I shall never look upon the Robinsons again, but I shall have had the satisfaction of knowing that I have embarrassed them in every way I can think of.”
“I cannot understand a word of what you say, daughter. Your brother Grant will come over this evening and speak with you. You will find that he, too, knows that your improper regard for Mr. Robinson has made you persist in following him.”
I rose from the table, my head throbbing with pain. As I left the room, my mother’s voice followed me. “You are insane, daughter. Your scandalous actions have disgraced our family. My heart bleeds for the Robinsons, too, and—“
Here Eliza took up the dirge. I could hear it as I mounted the staircase to the bedchamber. “Dear little Emma. The affection that she has always shown to us has been ill repaid. Oh, dear Mama, what can I do to help you?”
Damn Mama. Damn Eliza. Damn the Robinsons.