Voices Beckon, Pt. 3: The Awakening

By Linda Lee Graham

THIS NOVELLA IS THE THIRD OF THREE PARTS OF THE FULL LENGTH NOVEL, VOICES BECKON:

The Constitutional Convention has done its work and the new republic, Philadelphia included, begins to prosper. David and Elisabeth slowly come to terms with their loss while Liam begins to forge his future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Lee Graham
• Release date: Jul 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781301275755

Book preview

Chapter 62

August 1788

A MONTH LATER, Mrs. Hale paid a call on Oliver’s Academy.

Why Mrs. Hale, what a surprise. Please, do come in. Liam made a bow and swept his hand inwards. I’m embarrassed. I canna offer ye anything in the way of tea or coffee, but I’m sure that’s no less than ye expected, having deigned to visit those of the lower sort.

She walked into the room, her back straight and her head held high. Watch your tone, young man. I’d like to speak to your guardian.

I’m sorry, ma’am. Abashed, Liam took her elbow and led her to a chair at the front of the classroom. Truly, I apologize. Please, have a seat. Mr. Oliver is out for the morning, but perhaps I might help. He took the chair across from her.

She fingered her bag as if she might leave, then settled, her grey eyes soft when she looked at him. While I have you, perhaps you could tell me how David has been?

His expression closed and he rose to pace the room in front of her.

He wanted to tell her that most of July was spent looking for the bottom of a bottle and sporting for a fight from anyone willing. In recent weeks, David had eased off some on the whisky, but if anything, the fighting grew worse. It seemed as if self-loathing and anger now colored his world.

But Liam could say none of that. He’s not himself. Mr. Hall’s patience is wearing thin, and I barely recognize my mate. The most I can do is to follow behind and pick up the pieces.

It grieves me to hear that. David . . . he’s in my prayers nightly. He’s a good young man.

Not good enough, it seems.

Mrs. Hale’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she stood.

Ahh, hell, I’m sorry, ma’am. I keep looking for someone to blame, and I tend to take it out on those nearest. I know it’s not your fault. Why are you here, ma’am?

I hesitate to ask this, Mr. Brock, but I must. I took Elisabeth to Charlestown for several weeks to visit one of my dear friends, hoping a change of location would do her good. It didn’t, and I’m worried. The child is pining away while I watch, and I can’t help her. I thought, well, her classroom, will the children be returning?

Aye, I’m to teach them until we find a replacement.

Would Mr. Oliver consider asking her back, do you think? When I mentioned it, her eyes lit up, the first spark of life I’ve seen in her since this took place. But it was brief. She said you wouldn’t have her. Mr. Brock, she eats so little. Frankly, even if Mr. Oliver agreed and she consented, I’m not sure she could come back, given the state of her health. But the possibility might give her something to look forward to. It wouldn’t be a one-sided proposition, would it? Mr. Oliver told me once that she’s contributed to the success of the Academy. Is she correct in assuming you wouldn’t have her back?

I can speak unequivocally for Mr. Oliver with regards to this. He would welcome her back on any terms. The children loved her. And I would see her return as well. But tell me, is there hope things might change?

Mrs. Hale swallowed visibly and shook her head.

Elisabeth and Polly are as close as most sisters, ma’am. Surely—

She stood. May I tell Elisabeth you will come speak with her? she asked, cutting him off.

He hesitated and stood.

She’d have to hear it from you.

Blowing out a breath, he stroked his chin and then nodded. Aye.

Soon, please. And Mr. Brock, I’m reluctant to ask this after imposing on your goodwill—

It’s Liam, ma’am. And not to worry, I’ll come when Mr. Hale is unlikely to be home. Would ten tomorrow be fine, d’ye think? I’ll use the servants’ entrance.

I’m in your debt. She went to him. Ignoring the hand he extended, she took his face between her hands and kissed his forehead. Thank you, Liam.

THE NEXT MORNING, LIAM knocked on the Hales’ kitchen door. Hello, John. Long time and all that, eh?

Liam, come in. Young David, how’s he been? Let me take your hat there. John motioned him into the kitchen. Sit, have yourself some tea. It’s a hot one today, for sure. He placed a cup in front of him. I hear stories ‘bout town. Don’t much sound like David. I don’t pay them much credence, I don’t, but I worry.

Believe them, John. Now, Mrs. Hale asked that I speak to Lisbeth. Perhaps I should do that.

Yes, suh, John answered, his expression shuttering.

Now, John, don’t you ‘sir’ me, hear? Discussing David is not something I’ll do in this house. I’d appreciate your help with him, though. He’s always valued your friendship. If I can get him to wet a line Sunday, would ye be willing to join us?

You white boys don’t know nothing bout that. You join me and ole Barney, we’ll show you how it’s done. Third pier, six in the morning come Sunday.

Liam, you’ve come!

He turned at the sound of Elisabeth’s voice, reminding himself of his promise to Mrs. Hale and that this wasn’t her fault.

Lis—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what have ye done to yourself?

Tears spilled at his words, and she covered her face with her hands, though not before he saw the dark shadows surrounding her eyes. Her hands, once beautiful, were now chapped and red, her nails bitten to the quick. She had tied her hair back in the fashion of a man’s queue, and it resembled a tangled bushel of straw.

And where in the hell had she found the garment she wore? It wasn’t more than a threadbare, shapeless cotton shift, and it hung without form from thin, bony shoulders.

His brows drew. Beautiful, proper Elisabeth . . . looking the blowse. Had she stopped eating?

Unable to mask his horror, Liam turned back to John. John gave him an indignant stare and waved the back of his hand, gesturing him toward her.

Hell, lass, I’m sorry. I havena seen ye in some time. Isna John here feeding ye? John cuffed him on the shoulders, and Liam looked back at him, uncertain. John just canted his head, signaling him forward.

Liam sucked in a long breath. Come sit. Putting his arm around her, he led her to one of the chairs.

She pulled away. No.

Now, Miss Lisabeth, Liam didn’t mean no harm. You just—

Stop it! Do you hear me? All of you, stop it! I don’t want to sit! And I don’t want to eat! I don’t want to! She stamped her foot and made a weak effort to throw the chair against the wall, sobbing in earnest when it landed only a foot away. Liam went to her, and she pushed him away.

"There’s only one thing I want. Does anybody even hear me? Liam? Do you hear me? There’s only one thing, I tell them all, I tell them . . . I want him, Liam. But nobody listens. It’s as if he’s dead." Her voice shook as she sobbed, and it was difficult to make sense of the words she choked out, but her meaning was clear.

Aye, lass, aye, I hear ye, He held her tightly, pulling her head to his shoulder, refusing to relinquish his hold when she tried pushing him away. He rocked her and murmured hollow words of consolation while she sobbed and pounded her fists against his shoulders. When her sobbing slowed, she spoke. He tried deciphering the words.

You . . . left me too Liam, I . . . I hate you . . . for that. I needed you . . . and you . . . left. I don’t know . . . you never came back . . . if he’s dead or alive. Did you think . . . did you think I didn’t care to know? Are you punishing me?

Liam’s brow furrowed. Was he punishing her?

Stroking her back, he spoke softly. Lisbeth, shh, listen, stop crying, please. I’m not leaving. And I could never hate ye, lass. I always tell Davey ye were my friend first. Irritates him some, seeing how it’s only by minutes. I’ll grant ye I’ve been a bad friend, and I’m sorry for that. Now, John here offered me a bite to eat. I’d like to take him up on it if ye’d join me. We’ll talk over a meal, aye?

No. She pulled away and looked at him. I’m not hungry. Weren’t you listening? And don’t use that tone of voice with me, I’m not a simpleton. She blew her nose on the handkerchief she carried and sat on the bench facing the table, exhausted from her crying spell.

Liam grinned and went to the water jug to pour cool water on his handkerchief. Coming back to the table, he straddled the bench and faced her, thanking John with a nod for the food and drink he’d set on the table.

C’mere, lass, look at me now. Pressing the cool wet cloth around her eyes with one hand, he brushed the loose hair from her face with the other. Then he broke off a bite of bread and quickly pushed it between her lips before she could object. Chew, he said, setting his finger over her mouth. I’m sorry I didna think to see ye before now. It was thoughtless of me, and I’ve no excuse. Truth be, I was angry, and I wasna sure of my reception. He followed the bread with a bit of cheese, and she chewed automatically, her eyes not leaving his face.

I did leave word I’d found David, ye know that I did. She opened her mouth to respond, and he tucked another piece of bread in it, pushing her chin up with his hand. Were ye aware classes start soon? It’s kept me busy. Ye can attest to how things are at the end of summer break. She didn’t answer, still watching him, and he held the cup of ale to her mouth.

Drink, there. Aye, well, this week the children have been stopping by to check in. Li’l John Talbot was fairly bursting with the news he memorized his threes over the summer. He was mighty disappointed to find ye absent. She opened her mouth to comment and he put another piece of bread in her mouth.