“Slave ships from Liverpool?” The blood froze in his veins. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
She brushed at a braid that had escaped her bonnet. “I’ve heard how vicious my flesh-and-blood grandfather was to the people he owned, who looked like me or with darker skin. So vicious. My grandfather would have you killed for your push for abolition. He’d do it. Others here might, too. I don’t want to live in fear, waiting for you to come home.” She fingered the lapel of his coat. “Or open your door and this coat comes to me, battered or bullet ridden.”
He pulled her into him, and he just held on to her until her trembles stopped. There wasn’t much to say. She spoke the truth. These were dangerous times. “Ester, I know the risks, but I will be careful, and I’ve a wife to come home to. Don’t fret, Mrs. Bex.”
“But I will, Bex. I always will.”
A feeling close to love filled his head as he led her to the third floor. He dropped her bag in front of his door. “Well, I’ve quite recovered from the accident, and I’m well-rested, and I’m welcoming my wife home.” He slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her in the air. “I’ll carry you across the threshold.”
She sniffled and giggled like he’d done a great feat.
“You are easy on my ego, Ester.”
Her lips parted as if she was going to respond, but instead she ducked her face behind him as if to hide. “We aren’t alone.”
Clapping sounded from behind. He eased Ester to the floor and spun to see Phineas.
“So Bex, the saint does have a morsel on the side, a chocolate bonbon. I guess the great actor isn’t a saint. Man cannot live by pages alone, aye, Bex?”
Arthur’s fist balled. “Phineas, please do not disrespect my wife. No matter what you think of me, she is good.”
The man’s busy brows raised. “My apologies, ma’am. So how long have you been married? Wait—the girl from White Horse Cellar?”
Ester stayed behind Arthur, her nails had clawed into his coat.
Arthur clasped her fingers and pried them to the front, weaving his with hers. “We just married.”
Phineas tapped his chin. “A quick courtship?”
Remembering how Ester had portrayed their relationship to her father, he decided to say the same. “Some could say that this has been in the works for two years, right, my dear?”
Ester said nothing but drew deeper into his back. Though he didn’t mind her breath heating that center spot on his back, he’d hoped for a more spirited defense.
He gave her hand a little squeeze. “Go on, tell him like you told your father.”
Again, she said nothing, only planting her face deeper in his back.
“Seems you have a shy one, Bex.”
“Why are you here, Phineas?”
“Your big rally tonight. You’re the star of it. I wanted to get a statement, beforehand since you never like to talk afterward.”
“Phineas, that’s not until the end of the month, days away. Could you please—”
“The thing became organized after your big speech. I believe you were there, Mrs. Bex, to catch the end. No wonder you felt so at ease coming down to the cellar where the radicals gather. Your beau was on stage.”
“Radicals? That means danger?” Ester’s voice was low as she peeked around Arthur’s arm.
Phineas grinned. “Very, very dangerous, but tonight’s rally could be deadly. A blowhard could get shot if he isn’t careful.”
Pulse raising, anger boiling over, Arthur pointed to the stairs. “Unless you’ve become my personal secretary, Phineas, you need to be on your way.”
“Well, I tried to find you at the theater, but when you didn’t show, I assumed you were working on a big speech, something to make the crowds go wild. There will be terror in the streets incited by the man who loves the limelight.”
“I’ve returned from getting married. And please, my wife doesn’t understand that you’re exaggerating the danger.”
“Just come back?Hmmm. Well, the rally starts at seven, but you’ll miss it getting the wife settled. All talk, Bex, or has the abolition cause been something you’ve used to woo a negress woman? A fancy one at that.”
