Page 61 of Miss Whittier Makes a List
Dinner was a dreadful affair, full of jovial conversation with the Paiges, whom he had invited to dine with them.“For propriety’s sake,”he assured her,“now that my mother has beat a retreat back to the fleshpots ofLondon.”But it was more than that, and she knew it, as he laughed and shared stories of theClarion,and spoke of the coming winter on the blockade as though he looked forward to it.Mr. Paige delved deep into the conversation, but Mrs. Paige gradually dropped out,her eyes turning more and more to Hannah, a question in them.
We must talk, she thought as she pushed Mrs. Paige’s delicious dinner around her plate without the energy to see it to her lips. Please, Mrs. Paige, get your husband out of here.
The housekeeper seemed to know her thoughts.“Come,husband, you may help mewith the dishes tonight, since Ilet the scullery maid visit her sister. Hannah has many plans to share with her captain.”
Daniel shook his head.“Oh, not tonight.I have a head this big from too much rum last night. Hannah, please excuse me, but I am off to bed. We can talk in the morning. Good night.”
He left the table without a backward glance. She sat, stricken with anguish in the dining room, until she heard his slow footsteps on the stair and the closing of his door down the hall. The Paiges looked at each other, then at Hannah. Mr. Paige began to gather the lates together.
Mrs. Paige came to sit beside Hannah, and leaned closer,her voice low.“My dear, I would never breathe a word if you decided to go to his room to talk to him, and neither would Mr. Paige.”She grasped Hannah’s hand.“What could be wrong?”
“I cannot imagine,”Hannah said.“He seems like a different person.”She rose slowly to her feet, as if infected with the same lethargy that had overtaken Daniel Spark.“Good night.”
She went to her room, unable to face the closed door to Spark’s room that seemed almost like a reproach. She sat on her bed for a long time, as if unable to remember what she should do next.Oh, yes, it is night, she thought finally. I take off my clothes, get into my nightgown,say my prayers, and get into bed.
Still she sat, helpless to do anything but dwell on dread that deepened by the moment. Only the greatest force of will compelled her to prepare for bed. It was useless to pray; her mind was a great blank that the Lord would not appreciate. She crawled between the covers and shivered there, wishing for a warming pan, wishing for her own bed at home, with its familiar lumps, wondering why she had ever imagined herself in Daniel’s hard bed. Sleep seemed farther away thanAmerica. She heard the clock strike midnight and then one, before her eyes closed.
She woke toward morning to the sound of her door opening,and sat up, herheartin her throat. The room was dark, but she knew it was Daniel.
“It cannot wait until morning, Hannah,”he said.
Sleep was gone in an instant.“Come here, Daniel,”she said, and held out her hand to him.
“No. I will sit here in the window,”he said. The curtains rustled, and then she saw him silhouetted in the faint moonlight, his face away from her, not even able to look at her in the darkness.
“May I at least join you there?”she asked, struggling and failing to keep the desperation from her voice.
“No.”
The silence stretched into next week and she wanted to scream. She picked her words carefully.“My love, I really am not upset about the engagement party. Thee told me about the fortunes of war, and I do understand.”
“I wish you were not so reasonable, Hannah,”he burst out, loud enough to make her jump.“It would make what I have to say so much easier for both of us.”
“Then don’t say it,”she said,leaving her bed to stand by him in the moonlight.
“Go back to bed, Hannah. You’ll catch your death on this cold floor.”His voice was sharp and she thought of the quarterdeck.
“Very well, but only if thee tells me plain what is the matter.”
He got up then to turnhis back on her and gaze out into the fading moonlight, his feet planted wide apart as though the room pitched.“Ihave booked passage for you on theBonny Jean,bound forBoston. It sails fromPortsmouthin two days.”
“No.”
He did not turn around at her soft-voiced protest. His own words seemed to drag out of his throat with all the slowness of a nightmare.“I tore up the writ of chancery and returned the special license. I am breaking our engagement.”
“No.”It was as though she could say nothing else.
“You are welcome to tell people that you broke the eagement I wouldn’t for the world make you an object of anyone’s derision.”
“No.”Her lips felt numb; she couldn’t even discern a heartbeat in her breast anymore.“I love thee. We are to be married.”
He turned to face her then, sat on the bed, and took her hand between his hands.“You’renot hearing a thing I am saying,are you? I will not marry you. Not now, and not later.”
She broke free from his grasp and covered her face with her hands, willing herself not to cry.“I love you, Daniel Spark. I will have no other man.”
He got up then and stood by her bed, looking down at her.“Of course you will, Hannah,”he said, with just a trace of humor in his voice.“You’re just a baby.”
She leaped up again to stand next to him.“I am a woman, Daniel Spark, and thee knows it. Thee will have to do better than that.”She was shouting now, but she did not care.“Thee will have to tell me plain that thee does not love me.”
