From Chapter 3
“Patience!” Euphemia Goodwin exclaimed. “You’re just the person I need to see!”
It sounded as if someone else had designs on her time. “Good evening, Euphemia.” Constance slipped away in the direction of the food, abandoning Patience to what was sure to be a prolonged conversation.
“You must promise to come to my card party on Tuesday. It’s going to be full of political people, and you know I’ll not know what to say to them. They’ll talk continually about the king and tea and Boston and Parliament and who knows what else? I’ll depend on you helping me! My father always says I’m witless about politics.”
“Will it just be loyalists at the party?” Euphemia’s father, horrified about the wanton destruction of tea in Boston, had moved firmly into the loyalist camp. Patience could hardly imagine a worse way to spend her time than making inane conversation with Mr. Goodwin’s Tory friends.
Euphemia frowned. “My father never mentioned excluding disloyalists.”
Patience stared at her friend. Disloyalists? “Do you mean patriots?”
Euphemia clapped a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t even know they were called that! Please, please, say you’ll come. You can also help me find a husband among the delegates. I’m determined to marry by the year’s end. All my friends are married now. Helen, Temperance — even Jane.” Euphemia shook her head sadly. “They’re probably all having lovely parties only married people are invited to. Being a spinster forever is such a terrifying prospect, isn’t it?”
Patience certainly wasn’t married, but reminding Euphemia of that might send her off on another tangent. “I think most of the delegates are married already, and rather old, but I’ll come to the party to support you.” She’d pop in for a few moments and take care to avoid the loyalists.
Euphemia grabbed her arm so abruptly that Patience jumped in surprise.
“Who is that delicious man?” Euphemia whispered loudly, pointing her fan at a newcomer to the party. “Is he a delegate? I thought you said they were old! Is he married?”
Patience recognized him immediately. “Oh — that’s Mr. Brand. He’s the brother of Papa’s client. I believe he’s a delegate for . . . Delaware?”
“You must introduce me!” Euphemia insisted. “Have you ever seen anyone so handsome? How well that coat fits across his shoulders! And he certainly has the legs for those hose.”
Luckily Mr. Brand was speaking to one of the other delegates and couldn’t see them ogling. He’d been charming when he’d barged in at Temperance’s wedding, so much so that Patience had gone to fetch Papa as he requested rather than insisting he return the next day. “He’s handsome,” she agreed.
“Come on,” Euphemia said, starting to tug Patience forward. “Just introduce us, and I’ll do the rest. Oh, I hope he’s not dreadfully dull. His appearance is far too pleasing for him to be a boring man! I must not bore him to death with my prattle. My father is always telling me how men prefer women who know how to remain silent.”
Patience didn’t think much of Mr. Goodwin’s opinions or Euphemia’s chances of holding her tongue, but she’d introduce her to Mr. Brand, then go and see if her parents were ready to leave. She didn’t have any more time to waste if she wanted to get her research done in time for the trial.
Gilbert wanted to make his way straight back to the mounds of delicious food at Mr. Beaufort’s reception, but two young women stepped into his path. Gilbert bowed and tried to step around them. He was very close to the lobster now.
One of the women addressed him. “Mr. Brand?”
He’d never forget those arresting blue eyes. “Miss Hayes, I believe? We met at your sister’s wedding.”
“Yes.” She curtsied. “May I introduce my friend, Miss Goodwin?”
Gilbert turned his attention to the pretty young woman whose slight form was nearly overpowered by an elaborately trimmed red gown. “A pleasure to meet you.” Was she the daughter of the Goodwin he’d met at Willing’s party? He couldn’t fail to notice her diamond tiara and earrings. This was an heiress, unless he missed his mark — exactly the type of person he wished to cultivate an acquaintance with.
Miss Goodwin beamed at him. “Your manners are as charming as your person, and that’s quite the accomplishment. My father — oh!” Miss Goodwin broke off. “I didn’t mean to run on.”
Gilbert looked to Miss Hayes, who watched her friend with an amused expression. “Thank you,” he managed to say.
“Mr. Brand, does your brother have any acquaintances who would attest to his good character?” Miss Hayes asked. “I’m gathering anything that might strengthen his appeal.”
One moment — had she just said . . . ? Gilbert must’ve misheard her. “Sorry, did you say you are gathering references?” Women weren’t allowed to argue cases in court.
Miss Hayes drew herself up and squared her shoulders. “Perhaps you should know that I’m researching and preparing the appeal for your brother.”
“Is that something you do often?” he ventured. Perhaps the family had Quaker roots. Didn’t they have liberal views about women?
“Yes, actually. Have you heard of Keane, ’72? Or Hurst, ’73? Perhaps even Beouin, ’74?” Miss Hayes rattled off cases that had gripped lawyers across the colonies.
“You helped with all of those?” Hayes’s legal prowess in these cases had convinced Gilbert he was the lawyer who could save his brother.
Miss Hayes folded her arms. “If you don’t believe me, go and ask my father. I assure you, he will vouch for me.”
Miss Goodwin moved her body in front of Miss Hayes as if to shield her. “Oh, there’s no need to argue! Surely you can reach an accord? Patience would never lie, and she’s quite the most intelligent person I know. You can trust her with whatever legal problems you’re having, even if she isn’t a man.”
Gilbert waved his hands in surrender. “I believe her! I’m simply in awe of her work.” He bent his head towards Miss Hayes. “Erm, how is everything coming along?”
She relaxed a little. “I’ve developed some ideas for the appeal, but I haven’t yet found any relevant cases to show precedent.”
“She’s as tireless as a top,” Miss Goodwin interjected. Gilbert and Miss Hayes exchanged confused looks. “The children’s toy. Spinning around and around in circles without end, until it spins off the table and hits the ground. That’s just like Patience when she has those horrid law books to read.”
Interesting analogy. “Well, we can’t have Miss Hayes working herself into the ground, can we?” Though he was also a lawyer, Gilbert hated combing through law books for days on end. However, Phineas was his brother. He addressed Miss Hayes. “I may not have much time with Congress and all, but I would be very happy to help you whenever I get the chance.”
Miss Hayes seemed surprised by his offer. “Oh. Well, that’s very generous of you.”
“Not at all.” He glanced over her shoulder at the lobster. “Perhaps we could avail ourselves of the food and speak of the appeal tonight, if you have time?”
“I have time.” Her smile was more genuine than the one she’d assumed until this point in their conversation. It was lovely.
Miss Goodwin edged forward until she was almost touching Gilbert. “Let’s not speak of work! How dull! Are you enjoying Philadelphia? Do you like being a delegate?”
Gilbert bowed. “Philadelphia is the most beautiful city in the world, with the loveliest ladies and the bravest gentlemen.”
“Oh! How elegantly said! I’m so happy I attended this party. You must be also, Patience, though you loathe them in general.”
Miss Hayes snorted.
How singular. “Do you really dislike parties, Miss Hayes?”
She’d resumed a polite mask. “Intelligent conversation sometimes makes them tolerable.” Was she complimenting or insulting him?
“What’s your opinion?” Miss Goodwin asked eagerly.
“Love them. If it was up to me, I’d attend a dinner or party every day.”
“You’ll love being a delegate, then,” Miss Hayes remarked.
“Come, I must introduce you to my father!” Miss Goodwin exclaimed. “He’s a very important man in the city. If he likes you, and I’m certain he will, you’ll have entrance to the most select company of Philadelphia and your pick of hundreds of parties.”
Perhaps Goodwin would like Gilbert better in the company of the man’s daughter. “How kind you are, Miss Goodwin.” He turned his attention back to Miss Hayes. “I’ll find you later so we can discuss the appeal.”
Miss Goodwin seized his arm. “You’re not a patriot, are you?” she asked. “Only, my father believes firmly in reconciliation. He says Boston went too far destroying the tea and that a man’s right to secure his property is the most sacred of all rights.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Gilbert assured her, not that he had any property to secure. Miss Hayes wrinkled her nose but made no comment. A patriot, was she? He had no intention to get mixed up with revolutionaries, no matter how beautiful. He needed to advance his prospects.
“Please, lead me to your father.” Gilbert bowed to Miss Hayes and let Miss Goodwin carry him off.
How will Patience choose between a charming politician and a dashing patriot?