The extra money we had earned from the increase in advertisements and subscriptions garnered from the public printing contract had not been much, but I had been slowly paying off our other creditors. It didn’t feel like enough, but it was better than where we had been a month ago. I just prayed something more would come along to sustain us.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I told myself to set aside such things today. I pinched my cheeks to add color as I heard the first of our guests arrive downstairs. Mama had invited my friends to dine with us, and I would enjoy every moment. She loved celebrating birthdays, and my twentieth was especiallyworth noting. One year from today, I would stay awake past the midnight hour, and I would never have to wake up in my other time path again.
The thought should have brought a smile, but instead it sent a strange pang to my heart. For Father and Edith, for Pierson and Mrs. Hanson, and for my fellow suffragettes. They would mourn my loss, and I would dearly miss them.
My thoughts shifted to Mother Wells, and though I had always been a disappointment to her, I wondered if she would mourn my loss. It had been nine days since we’d arrived in New York on the RMSOlympic, and she had not risen from bed. Her melancholy had begun to scare even me. Our plans to go to Newport had been postponed, and Dr. Payne had visited almost every day to treat her ailments, but nothing seemed to help.
I closed my eyes, trying to push aside the guilt that lay upon me. She had asked me every day if I would reconsider marrying Lord Cumberland, but I could not accept.
And each day she slipped lower and lower, losing weight, growing paler, and becoming so despondent that my heart had begun to ache for her.
Was it really so dire to refuse him?
“Libby!” Mama called from the bottom of the steps. “Your guests have begun to arrive.”
I pushed aside thoughts of Mother Wells, determined not to let her ruin this day.
Conversation filled the stairwell as I made my way down. Mama had told me about the birthday parties she celebrated with her family in the 1980s and ’90s. Her father had been an important architect in Chicago, and they’d lived a comfortable life. For her twentieth birthday, her parents had taken her on a skiing trip to Vail, Colorado, and she’d been allowed to bring three of her closest college friends. When she spoke of her 1990s life, her face usually shone, and her voice took on afaraway tone that had always charmed me as a girl. Even her accent and word choices changed. Though I would never see that time, I felt as if I had lived part of it with her. I was the only person Mama could share that fragment of her existence with, and I felt it an honor.
Sophia stood in the hall with Constance Meriwether and Emmaline Page. All three women were a year or two younger than me, but we’d grown up in Williamsburg together and had always been friends. Of the three, Sophia was my closest friend, but the other two were equally fun and enjoyable.
“Happiest of birthdays to you, Libby,” Sophia said. “You look lovely.”
The others complimented me as well, and my cheeks grew warm at their praise. “The party will be in the garden,” I told them. “It’s much too nice a day to spend indoors.”
“Indeed.” Sophia linked arms with me, talking all the way as we walked into the gardens.
Constance told us of her upcoming wedding, and we listened intently. She was the first of us to be engaged, though I suspected Emmaline would be next. Her beau had been calling on a regular basis, and the only thing preventing him from making an offer was his apprenticeship with Mister Goodman, the cobbler. But that would end this summer, and then he’d be able to start his own shop.
I wondered how the coming war would change all their plans, but I could not let that daunting knowledge taint my evening, nor theirs.
A beautiful table had been set up under the large elm tree, surrounded by purple irises, yellow daffodils, and pink bleeding hearts. Torches, which would not be lit until it grew dark, were positioned throughout the yard and down the crushed-shell path leading through our property. The printing shop sat on a wide double lot, which was long and deep. On either side of the path that led to the back of the property were vegetable gardensthat Mama, Mariah, and Abraham tended. An abandoned stable sat in the back corner of the gardens, which Abraham used to store extra supplies from time to time.
“It’s enchanting,” Sophia said as she inspected the table, which I noticed was set for eight.
Who else had Mama invited? I turned to ask her, but she had not followed us outside.
Emmaline took a deep breath. “The food smells wonderful.”
“Mariah has been cooking for hours,” I told my friends, inhaling the delicious scents wafting from the kitchen windows. “Chicken fricassee with mushroom sauce and creamed spinach.”
The back door opened, and Mama appeared with several more guests behind her.
Among them was Henry.
I smiled at the sight of him. I had not expected Mama to invite him, nor would I have assumed he’d attend.
He saw me standing under the spreading elm tree, and his face lit with a smile so tender and so sweet that I was certain my legs would fail me. Beside him were three other gentlemen, including Constance’s fiancé, Emmaline’s beau, and another childhood friend, Thomas Drew. Williamsburg was a small village, with only eighteen hundred people, and everyone knew everyone else, even if they were not intimately acquainted. Thankfully, Henry spent time at his home on the Palace Green and had attended the College of William and Mary. He was familiar enough with my guests and known by all because of his new position in the House of Burgesses. He didn’t seem a stranger, as some of the other sailing merchants were often viewed.
I received greetings from everyone before they began talking among themselves.
“Happy Birthday, Libby,” Henry said to me when I finally made it to him.
“I’m so pleased that you came.”
“When your mother sent the invitation, how could I refuse?” He smiled at Mama, who stood near the kitchen door, admiring the small group before stepping inside to help Mariah.
This was the first time Henry and I had been close enough to talk since the night by the hearth. I had not had the opportunity to ask him why Governor Dunmore had requested that he stay in Williamsburg, though I had been deeply curious. I still couldn’t shake the rumors Louis and Sophia had shared. Had he stayed because he was spying for Governor Dunmore?
