Page 80 of The Lovers
“I do. And I swear to love you until my dying day.” He bent down and kissed her. The kiss deepened and James drew her against him. They were so caught up in the moment that neither one of them realized that they were being watched.
FIFTY-NINE
Elise suggested that Mercy stay with her at the house. James couldn’t be expected to take care of a little girl, and Elise found pleasure in Mercy’s uncomplicated company. She was articulate and surprisingly observant for a child of seven. Edward had never met Mercy, so if he returned unexpectedly Elise would just tell him that Mercy was Mistress Benford’s granddaughter. He wouldn’t care one way or the other, and Mistress Benford had taken a liking to the little girl and treated her as if she were indeed her granddaughter. Mercy had even managed to charm Barbara, who lit up every time the child walked into the room. Barbara liked to show Mercy her embroidery and listened intently when Mercy talked, mesmerized by the cadence of her childish voice.
Mercy’s quick mind and desire to learn reminded Elise of her own sisters. She missed them so much, and she railed silently against her father for taking them away without so much as a goodbye. She’d loved and respected him, but he couldn’t be happier to be shod of her, especially since the debt to Edward had been deferred. Elise strongly suspected that Hugh de Lesseps had no intention of ever returning to England. Edward would hardly follow him to the West Indies to collect what was owed to him. Her father had used her to pacify Edward and defaulted on the rest of his debt.
“Is there anything you’d like to do?” Elise asked Mercy as they sat in the parlor, a plate of sweetmeats in front of them. Mercy had helped herself to three already, and her fingers were sticky with sugar, but her eyes were filled with sadness.
“I’d like to bring some of these to my sister,” she whispered. “She’s never had anything like it, and now she’ll go to ’er grave without ever knowing what she was missing. And me mam too. Will I ever see ’er again?” Mercy asked. She didn’t allow herself to cry, but her hands were clasped in her lap, the knuckles white with tension.
“Mercy, I won’t insult you by lying to you. You know as well as I do that I don’t have the answer, but I will tell you this: Many people who are exposed to the illness never catch it. It just passes them by. No one knows why, but they live on. I will pray for your parents and sister every day, and you must too. It will give them a better chance.”
Mercy scoffed at Elise’s words. “Pray? God doesn’t care.”
Elise was shocked to hear such a sentiment coming from one so young. “Who told you that?”
“I heard me mam saying it to me da. She said that God took ’er mother to punish ’er for ’er sins and took ’Arry because ’e visits the sins of the parents onto their children. And now ’e will take Beth and me, and even Uncle James. Mam said that God is cruel.”
Perhaps he is, Elise thought. She was overcome with sympathy for this little girl. God was a symbol of hope, love, and forgiveness, as long as one didn’t question the word of the ministers too closely. There were people who saw God’s mercy in everything, but there were those who railed against a deity they believed to be a despot. Of course, they did so in private because to question the Church could result in a trial for heresy. Was Molly one of those people who questioned the very existence of God? Was she a heretic? Or was she just a woman who was so crippled by her pain that she needed someone to blame? Many lost their mothers in childbirth, and many lost children. There were families whose graves took up whole rows in local cemeteries.
Elise placed a hand on her belly, suddenly aware that she wasn’t immune to the whims of fate. Would she survive the birth? Would her baby? And if it did, would it live to see adulthood? So many didn’t. Molly lost a child only a few months ago, and now she was about to lose another, if she hadn’t already. Mercy might survive this round of the Black Death, but it would come back, as it did every year to claim more lives and decimate more families. Where was God when so many were dying? Were they all guilty of something and paying for a crime, physical or imagined? Or was death random, with nothing at all to do with the commandments of the Lord? Did it sweep through the streets of London, claiming anyone who crossed its path and laughing at the kind, loving God who could do nothing to stop it?
“What will happen to me if my parents die?” Mercy asked, interrupting Elise’s thoughts. “Where will I go if Uncles James dies too?”
“I will look after you. You have my word.”
“And do you have leave to make such a promise?” Mercy asked wisely. “Your lord might not agree.”
My lord is your grandfather, Elise wanted to shout, but she kept silent and rearranged her features into an expression of calm and reassurance.
“My lord need never know,” Elise replied. “I will keep my word, Mercy.”
“You two are getting awfully maudlin,” James said as he entered the parlor. He must have overheard the tail end of their discussion and was saddened by Mercy’s questions. Mercy knew too much for a child—she could see right through Elise’s hollow promise.
“It’s a fine summer’s day out. What do you say we ask Cook for a basket of food and take a walk to the beach? Would you like to see the sea up close, Mercy?”
Mercy’s eyes grew round in her thin face. “Oh, yes, Uncle James, please. I would like to see the sea. Is it really vast? Can I wet my feet?”
“Yes, it’s vast. Yes, you can wet your feet. And yes, you can run along the shore and look for treasure.”
“What treasure?” Mercy gasped.
“Well, there are all kinds of things that wash up on the shore—mostly shells and small stones, but sometimes there are coins and bits of jewelry, carried on the waves from the treacherous depths of the sea, stolen by pirates who still rest in their watery graves as punishment for their Godless deeds.”
Mercy squealed with delight as James scooped her up and twirled her around. “There are no pirates,” Mercy said once he finally put her down.
“Are you sure? Will you not see what you can find?”
Mercy gave this some thought. “I s’pose I’d better. Just to be sure.”
“Wise decision.”
Elise smiled at James. He’d taken Mercy’s mind off her fears and gave her something else to think about. Mercy had an inquisitive mind, so the story James had just planted there might keep her occupied for a while. Elise was sure that Mercy would take time to think about it and come back with a list of questions.
“James, does Mercy know how to read?” Elise asked as they walked toward the beach. James carried a basket over his arm and Mercy skipped ahead, singing some ditty to herself.
“I don’t believe so.”
