present: a cravat strewn over the chair, a coat tossed onto the table, a hat balanced on the globe. Joshua could not be far, as he had, yet again, left half his clothes behind.
Cassandra tucked away her rosewater-scented handkerchief as Mr. Cosway crossed to the window. The secretary was approximately the size of a carriage, with a shaved head, battered nose, and a peg where his left hand should be, but he spoke incongruously like a gentleman and treated her with every courtesy.
“He’s on the dock with the children,” he said, tapping the thick, greasy glass.
“The children?”
She hastened to the window. There was Joshua, clean-shaven today, in his shirtsleeves and a plain black waistcoat, crouching on the dock, talking to two boys and a girl. The children, who were no more than eleven or twelve, were simply but neatly dressed, and all were looking at him with enthralled faces. A woman who bore the air of a governess and whose features hinted at African heritage watched from nearby.
Cassandra pressed a hand against the window pane and leaned in. Her bonnet bumped the glass and she impatiently shoved it off her head so she could see.
Joshua’s buckskins were pulled taut over his powerful thighs. The breeze ruffled his hair and toyed with the billowing sleeves of his shirt, teasing her with glimpses of the body within. Her palm recalled the tickling sensation of his scruff and she wondered at the smoothness of his cheek now.
One of the boys, the small, red-headed one, said something and Joshua nodded. He sketched a diagram on the wooden dock with his finger. The three children gathered closer, blocking her view.
For a man who declared children to be a nuisance, he seemed fond of these ones. For a man who claimed to be busy, he seemed to have time for them.
“What is going on?” she asked.
“The children are supposed to be working, but Mr. DeWitt, he likes to talk to them sometimes.”
“What about?”
“Whatever’s on his mind. Which could be anything. Always a thousand things on Mr. DeWitt’s mind.”
His expression was rueful, but he spoke with admiration also.
“He employs those children?”
“More like practical training, although they get some wages too. There’s some orphanages that work with him, where he pays for the children to learn things, reading and writing and arithmetic. Most children like that, if they get a job, it’s in the factories or in service, but Mr. DeWitt says if they have the aptitude to do something different, then they ought to get to use it. Says aptitude matters more than birth. So some train here, and when they’re ready, we help them find a job.”
“Who is the woman?”
“That’s Miss Sampson. The training was her idea, so now she’s the Secretary In Charge Of Organizing The Training And Education. She’s a good sort, Miss Sampson.” His battered face broke into a smile and Cassandra couldn’t help but smile too; perhaps Mr. Cosway thought Miss Sampson was more than just a good sort. “She taught me to speak prettily. Lots of people think that if you don’t speak English the way they speak English, then you’re not as bright as them. I don’t mean Mr. DeWitt, though,” he hastened to add. “Most people, they wouldn’t give me a job, because some greedy pirate made off with my hand, but I said to Mr. DeWitt, ‘I know shipping, and I don’t need my left arm to think,’ and he agreed.”
Down on the dock, a clerk came to speak to Joshua. He looked up and their eyes met through the thick glass. He shook his head, then he nodded at the clerk, and gave her another look. She backed away.
Not so courageous now, was she?
She hardly noticed Mr. Cosway leaving, as she placed her bonnet on the table, folded her hands, and composed herself. She would not mention last night. She would not mention children.
She would not mention the dream that had blossomed overnight, delicate and pale, like a tiny wildflower poking up amid the ferns on the forest floor. She had thought she had buried the dream two years ago, given it up for lost along with so much else, but it had bloomed anew.
Children would bring pain, of course: She had lived long enough to know that whomever one loved would cause hurt, sooner or later. But they would also bring joy. Any pain could be borne if one had joy and love and laughter.
And her body was ready. That’s why it turned so silly around