Sympathy coiled within me, not just for the people taken from their homes, chained, and sold like cattle, but for young Edward. I could not imagine witnessing such a thing and being unable to prevent it.
“So, you became an abolitionist?” I asked.
He smiled wryly. “Of a sort. I was so young, and not precisely a man of influence or means. I’m still not, truthfully. I’m to inherit an estate with a modest income and have funds coming from my time in the Navy, but it certainly is not enough to influence thetonto the degree required for change.”
He was not wrong, and the defeat that marred his expression stirred my desire to help, somehow.
“I do not know,” I said with a smile. “That charm of yours could work wonders.”
As I hoped, the words lifted his lips. “My charm? You think me charming?”
“I thinksomepeople find you charming,” I corrected, though he was not wrong about this either. “When did you fully embrace abolition?”
He sobered. “One day, when we made port in Liverpool and were granted a few days leave, I found myself enjoying a meal at one of the local inns. I overheard a group of men speaking about abolition, and my curiosity eventually guided me to them. It was…improper, perhaps, to interrupt their conversation, but my desire to do something—anything—had swelled so much that I could not ignore the opportunity. Those men welcomed me, and I learned much of the motions toward abolition. I was barely nineteen at the time and completely entranced with the work those men were doing on behalf of slaves.
“One of the men agreed to a correspondence. I believe he saw a bit of himself in me, as he had once served in the Navy and was quite headstrong himself. I did not know then the influence he would have on my life or how much his letters would come to mean to me.”
“He wrote to you, then?”
“Often. Mr. John Newton, a man of both experience and humility. I greatly admired him. Receiving word of his death a year later broke me.”
“That must have been difficult.” Without thought, I placed a hand on his arm. “Mr. Newton has family who reside in Kent. I did not know him well, but my father spoke highly of the man.”
Edward stared at where my hand rested on his coat. I thought to pull away, but before I could do so, his hand covered my own, securing it in place. “Thank you, but I cannot regret the connection, no matter how difficult the loss. He taught me much in his letters. Provided a full account of his efforts, and the efforts of others, toward abolition. I am glad he was alive when the Slave Trade Act passed. At least he saw some fruits of their labors.” He shook his head. “But more legislation is needed. The Act is but a start.”
“This is why you get on so well with my father. You both stand on the same side and fight for true abolition.”
“Yes, your father and I are of the same mind. He is my mentor, in some sense. He wishes for me to take up his mantle now that his health does not permit him to fight for the cause.”
A soft smile pulled at my lips. “I am glad he has you. My brothers take little interest in politics, and I have seen the happiness your visits bring. It has been good for him. Being bed-bound is not easy for a man like my father. He wants to do more, and having you around allows him to continue his work when he otherwise could not.”
Edward nodded. “Indeed, and I am more than happy to do so. Your father is the best of men, and I am honored to even know him. To have gained his regard.”
He meant it. I could see it in his eyes. Edward Paget cared deeply about my father.
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away. “I find your background fascinating, but I fail to understand how it relates to this Captain Hollinsby you mentioned or your friend. Am I safe to assume you served under the man in the Navy at some point?”
Edward’s jaw clenched. “Yes, and that service was both fortunate and unfortunate.”
“How do you mean?”
His gaze bore into mine, so direct I held my breath. “Because Hollinsby tried to kill me.”
Chapter sixteen
Edward
I fear that, while living at sea, I may never have the opportunity to make a difference. How am I to pursue our cause with nothing surrounding me but endless waves and an empty horizon? I wish to do more, but until my commission is complete, I am stuck, constrained by duty and immobilized by my inability to do more than correspond with men who can do the work. It is the most frustrating situation I have ever found myself in and stokes a fire of resentment in me. Yet, I am beholden to it. For how can I resent joining the Navy when my new convictions would not exist without them? Without my service, I would be a vessel without a wheel, drifting on the waters of life to wherever the current takes me. I would not desire change, for I would know nothing of the horrors and suffering faced by so many. How do I bury my anger when it consumes me to be idle in our cause?
–EP
Annettegaspedatmywords, pulling her hand from under mine to cover her mouth. With any other woman, I would have refrained from making such a dark statement so bluntly. But I knew this woman—saw her strength and resilience. She could handle the truth of my past, though I still warred with the decision to reveal so much. Vulnerability was a delicate thing.
“He tried to kill you?” she asked in nothing more than a whisper.
“Indeed, he did.”
“Why?”
