“We can lie if we have to,” Sarah said. “But we aren’t likely to be asked, being just a couple of old black servants.”
“If they ask me, I’m sure I could burst into convincing tears,” Molly said. “As long as I don’t have to say what I’m crying about!”
That produced a laugh. “We can do that, though I hate to say he ever had a selfless impulse,” Trey said. “But I imagine they’d mostly talk to you since you’re our guardian, Miss Callista?”
Peter pulled a piece of folded paper and a short pencil from his pocket. As he wrote, he said, “Here is a note and the address for a nearby physician my family uses. He’s less likely to be with the militia than a surgeon would be. He can give you a certificate of death and help you arrange a burial.”
Callie accepted the paper, murmuring, “This week just keeps getting better and better. But my thanks, Peter. You’re making this much easier.”
“I’m glad to help, ma’am.” He got to his feet and let Molly help him into his uniform jacket, allowing it to lie open over the sling that supported his right arm. “I must return to my regiment now. I don’t know if I’ll be of much use, but the British are likely to attack our Hampstead Hill defenses tomorrow, and I must be there.”
Looking unhappy but not arguing, Molly stood. “Come back safely!”
“I plan to,” he said with a crooked smile as he reclaimed his rifle and ammunition. “Just as well I’m leaving now, in case you have other things to discuss that a lawyer shouldn’t hear!”
A very clever lad, Gordon thought.Good enough for Molly.
The women all gave Peter farewell hugs and Molly walked him down to the street for a private good-bye. When they were out of earshot, Gordon said, “Josh, do you have any good ideas for the best way to dump Henry’s associates into the harbor without being noticed?”
“It’s going to rain soon,” Josh said. “A bad storm, I think. We can put the bodies in the canvas sling behind the house and lower them to the ground with the hoist, then take ’em out in the Newell boat. If we row toward the fort, we can just slide them overboard and come home.”
“That sounds wet but efficient,” Gordon said. “If we’re going to use the hoist, we can lower Henry as well and put him into the office. I doubt that anyone wants to sleep with his corpse here.”
“You’re right about that!” Callie said fervently. “Have you often had to dispose of unwanted bodies?”
“No, but it’s a new skill to add to my list,” he said with mock seriousness.
Callie laughed and got up from the table. “Someday I’d like to see that list. But now, it’s time for all of us to get to work.”
Chapter 25
Callie had always found Josh to be a reliable predictor of weather, and he was right once again. As heavy rain pounded down, Richard and Josh secured the three bodies in a canvas sling and lowered them to the ground with the hoist. Grim work, but they did it stoically. She gave thanks that their household contained two well-muscled men with strong stomachs.
In the darkness and rain, it was doubtful they were observed, but if there were questions, lowering Henry’s body down to the warehouse office was legitimate reason for their behavior. Henry the hero, come to Baltimore to protect his family. The idea would have been laughable if she weren’t still shaking inside from his threats.
As Richard and Josh stoically rowed out into the downpour, Callie concentrated on cleaning up the spilled blood. She forced herself to think of it as just another stain, like red wine or soup. After that, she helped Molly put away the food and wash the dishes. Luckily the hoist was also good for bringing up water for washing and cooking.
Callie was drying plates when Molly asked, “What do you think of Peter Carroll?”
Unsurprised by the question, Callie replied, “I think he’s a fine young man.”
“Do you think there could be anything . . . lasting between someone from one of Maryland’s first families and a slave girl?”
“You’re no longer a slave!” Callie said sharply. “You’re a beautiful, well-educated young woman and an heiress. But as to whether there might be a lasting relationship—that’s always a question. I’m sure that Peter doesn’t care about your origins, but his family might. Even if they don’t object, you’re both very young, and first loves are often like summer storms. Intense but swiftly passing.”
Molly gave her a sidelong glance. “Peter’s nineteen. I’m sixteen. You were married at sixteen.”
That was inarguable, and rather shocking. Molly was the same age Callie had been? She was so young! But Callie had been young, too. Far too young. “I didn’t marry by choice. Though it didn’t work out badly, I can’t recommend it.”
“Did you have a first love who consumed your mind and heart?” Molly asked intently. “Someone you desperately wanted to be with, though you were forced to marry my father?”
“Not really,” Callie said, her voice apologetic as she stacked dry plates and set them on a kitchen shelf. “The girls I knew were always becoming infatuated with dancing masters and stable boys and handsome young curates, but that never happened to me. I guess I’m just not very passionate.”
“I don’t believe that!” Molly exclaimed. “Surely there was someone!”
Callie frowned as she thought about it, then shook her head. “I suppose because Richard was my best friend, I didn’t notice the stable boys.”
“Weren’t you ever infatuated with him?” Molly asked in amazement. “He’s so handsome!”
