The Honorable Imposter (House of Winslow Book #1) Read online

  “Oh, there you are, Gilbert,” Howland said with a broad smile. “I don’t believe you’ve met these two members of our congregation. This is Elizabeth Tilley, and this is Humility Cooper. May I present my friend Gilbert Winslow.”

  Gilbert was taken slightly aback as the young woman turned her eyes upon him and said in a low voice, “How do you do, Mr. Winslow?” She was far more attractive than any of the other women of the congregation. And even the strict dark colors of her long black dress did not disguise her womanly figure. She had green eyes with a broad face and her coloring was glorious—red lips, bright cheeks, eyes very wide spaced and the whitest teeth he had ever seen. Her hair was tied up under her bonnet—as was the custom with all the women—but the blonde tresses that escaped had glints of red that caught the fading afternoon sunshine. A slight dimple appeared on her right cheek when she smiled at him, and she had honest frank eyes more like a man than a woman. She looked directly at him, and there was something bolder in her appearance and her appraisal of him than he had expected.

  “I’m walking Elizabeth and Humility home, Gilbert,” John Howland said. “Won’t you walk with us for a way?”

  “You’re very kind, John,” Gilbert said with a smile. He allowed Howland and Elizabeth to go on and the girl named Humility fell in beside him as they strolled down the street.

  Gilbert Winslow had enjoyed some success with women, and he was prepared to begin his tactics by charming this girl with the strange name of Humility in his usual manner. But she looked at him and asked in a most serious manner, “The Spirit of God moved quite wonderfully among us this morning, did He not, Mr. Winslow?”

  Gilbert’s jaw dropped open, and for one moment his mind was totally blank. The girls he had known had had nothing to say about the Spirit of God, and he coughed slightly before he managed to answer, “Why—ah, yes, I think that is very true, Miss Cooper.”

  “And what was your opinion of Reverend Robinson’s concept of sanctification?”

  It was fortunate for Gilbert that at exactly this moment Howland turned and said, “This is the street where the Tilleys live, Gilbert.” For Gilbert had nothing to say in response, and he was furious at himself at being taken off guard. This is one of those holier-than-thou wenches who has forgotten how to be a woman! He managed to stammer out a few words as they watched the young women go into the house; when they turned to head back toward the center of town, Howland did not notice Gilbert’s discomfort. He was too busy singing the praises of Elizabeth and encouraging his friend to see all of her virtues.

  After Gilbert put the matter of Humility Cooper aside, he began to listen more closely to John, and to lead him into a description of the members of the congregation. Howland was so simple that Winslow had some difficulty ascertaining the basic facts about the various individuals and their families. All the same, Gilbert noticed that not even Howland mentioned William Brewster. Gently he brought the young man’s mind on the track by saying, “I don’t remember meeting the dark lady’s husband—what’s her name? Oh, yes, Mrs. Brewster. Is she a widow?”

  Howland looked disconcerted, bit his lip and said, “Oh, no, her husband is one of the elders of our congregation—Elder William Brewster.”

  “Oh? I don’t believe I met him, did I, John?”

  “No,” Howland stuttered, and the words came slowly from his lips as he attempted to explain. “You see, Elder Brewster has been away. Humility and Henry are servants of Mr. Tilley, but the Brewsters are really like parents to them—especially to Humility.”

  With a little urging, Howland told the complete story without being aware in the least of his friend’s interest. Gilbert knew from his earlier reports that the leadership at the Green Gate Assembly had been under close surveillance by spies of the crown from time to time. None of them had had any direct contact with William Brewster—that much was certain. But Brewster had to maintain some kind of communication with these people. If this girl is that close to Brewster, Gilbert thought suddenly, how possible, even likely, it is that Brewster’s contact with the leadership might be through her! By the time Gilbert said goodbye to Howland and turned to go to Edward’s cottage, a scheme was fully formed in his mind.

  He hastened to the small upstairs room that had been allocated to him, threw himself down before a table, and with bold strokes wrote a letter to Lucas Tiddle. There was a cruelty of sorts on the broad lips of Gilbert Winslow as he set down the following words:

  My dear Tiddle,

  You left me under a cloud, suggesting that I would be rather useless so far as Lord North’s mission is concerned. I must confess, my dear fellow, that I was both hurt at your rather pointed and barbed statements and somewhat fearful that they might prove to be true!

  I write hastily to inform you that you may soon expect to hear from me very good news! I am no detective, and must confess that my talents for spying have not been developed by my earlier career—however, one discipline I have studied and pursued with alacrity, and that studying now stands me in good stead.

  In a word, there is a member of this congregation, Humility Cooper, who is in the confidence of our friend Brewster. She appears to be quite an attractive girl, and perhaps intelligent, but I have taken dead aim upon Miss Cooper, and if she can withstand the wiles of this novice spy, she will be unique! Expect to hear from me by the next post more concerning the elusive Mr. Brewster and the decline and fall of Miss Humility Cooper!

  Your most obedient servant,

  Gilbert Winslow

  CHAPTER SIX

  HUMILITY

  Edward Tilley pushed his chair back from the table and looked around at his family—his wife Anne, his daughter Elizabeth, called “Bess,” Humility Cooper, age eighteen, and Henry Sampson, age sixteen. Humility and Henry were his adopted children and served as servants in his household.

  “Anne, be sure you have enough bread baked to last over the Sabbath,” he said quietly, pushing back from the table. “I’d not like to run short as we did last week.”

  “I will see to it,” Anne replied quickly.

  “Papa, will it be all right if I go with the group to Bargsteen?” Bess asked. “All my friends are going, and I must let them know right away.”

  “I don’t believe you should, Bess,” Edward Tilley said thoughtfully. “We have heard some evil reports of the activities of young people who go on these trips.”

  A frown swept across Bess’s pretty face and she said petulantly, “Oh, Papa, don’t be so narrow-minded! Nothing wrong happens on these trips; I’ve told you that a hundred times!”

  Anne Tilley looked nervously at her husband, nodded shortly and said, “I think it would all right, Husband. They are very nice boys and girls, and there’s not much for Bess to do in the town.”

  Humility rose from the table and began collecting the dishes as the argument went on. When she got back from the kitchen, Mr. and Mrs. Tilley were gone, and Bess looked up with a mischievous smile on her rosy lips. “I think you ought to go with us this time to Bargsteen, Humility. You never go anywhere, and we’ll have such fun!”

  Humility gave her smile and said, “I’m too busy this time, Bess. Maybe later.”

  “Oh, all you ever do is read the Bible and talk with Pastor Robinson about it,” Bess said in disgust.

  She got up and began to help pick up the dishes and when they got into the kitchen with them Humility said, “I’ve got to go down to the harbor for a few minutes, Bess. Would you please mop the floors in the bedrooms for me?”

  Bess gave her a sharp look and tapped her chin with her forefinger, then asked in a teasing voice, “Going to the harbor again? It seems everytime a ship comes in you have to run down to meet it.” She laughed gaily and said, “You must have a sailor for a sweetheart, Humility! Or maybe more than one, from the way you meet all the ships.”

  Humility flushed slightly and shook her head. “Don’t be silly, Bess. Will you do the bedrooms for me?”

  “Oh, of course I’ll do them,” Bess said, �
��but you be careful about meeting those sailors—you know their reputation!” She gave Humility a playful pinch on the arm and said as she went from the room, “I’ve got to go down to the Millers and get that flour we’re short of, but as soon as I get back you can go to the harbor—for whatever reasons you have!”

  Bess made her way to the Millers which was only a few blocks away, got the flour, and was within a block of her house again when someone spoke to her from behind.

  “Good morning, Miss Tilley.”

  Bess turned to see Gilbert Winslow smiling broadly. He seemed to tower over her, and as she leaned back to look up into his wedge-shaped face, her heart fluttered as it always did in the presence of a handsome man. “Why—good morning, Mr. Winslow! My, you’re out early this morning.”

  Gilbert walked down the street with her and after exchanging pleasantries, he mentioned Humility’s name, and immediately Bess turned her head and looked at him. “Well, you needn’t waste your efforts pursuing Miss Cooper,” she smiled. “She’s a very virtuous girl and absolutely man proof!”

  Gilbert laughed and said, “Come now, Miss Tilley, no beautiful woman is absolutely man proof—no one should know that better than you!” He began to flatter her, and before they had gone ten steps she was giggling at his remarks.

  “Surely Miss Cooper must have many suitors?” he asked.

  “Oh, no, not Humility! Though of course, I have been a little suspicious of her for the past few months.”

  Gilbert quickly asked, “Oh, she has been seeing someone, then?”

  “No, not really,” Bess shook her head. “But I have noticed that every time a ship comes into port, Humility doesn’t waste any time getting down there.”

  “Oh, you think she has a sailor as a sweetheart?”

  “No—no, not that—but I believe she is getting letters from someone abroad—probably England. As a matter-of-fact, I’m hurrying home now so she can go to the harbor.”

  Gilbert said hurriedly, “Well, here you are, but I must run, Miss Tilley. I’ll see you again soon.”

  Gilbert walked rapidly down the street, took the first turn to the right, and paused, thinking hard. He had to gain a closer standing with Humility Cooper, but that task seemed almost impossible. Grown girls were watched so closely in this community of saints that is was rare for a strange young man to have access to any of them. But what he had heard from Bess, however, made him hopeful. If his guess was correct, and Brewster was getting information to the elders, this might be the lucky coincidence that would lead him to find the source.

  He loitered around the neighborhood, always keeping out of sight of the Tilleys’ front door, and within fifteen minutes Humility Cooper came out and headed directly toward the harbor, a twenty-minute walk. He kept well behind, although it was not likely that she would be suspicious. When she reached the wharf, he saw her stop a man, ask a question, and walk along the stone wharf until she came to a small two-masted schooner. Several sailors were on deck, and she called to one of them and then stood waiting. A portly man, obviously the captain, came down the gangplank, and Gilbert saw them nod to one another then carry on a short conversation. He handed her an envelope, which she placed in a small bag she was carrying, then nodded, and went back up the gangplank.

  She did not come back toward him but took another route, and Gilbert said to himself as he followed her, I’ll bet my last farthing she heads right for the Reverend John Robinson!

  He would not have lost the bet, for in a few moments she went up to the door of the Green Gate and, without knocking, passed inside. Gilbert thought quickly, and without hesitation walked down the street, turned into the door, and knocked briskly.

  He recognized the small woman who opened the door as the wife of Pastor Robinson, and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Robinson; may I see your husband, I wonder?”

  She hesitated then said, “Come in, please. Someone is with him now, but I think he will be glad to see you.”

  She led him across a large open hallway. On the left he recognized the meeting room where services were held. They walked to the end of a long hall, and Mrs. Robinson tapped at a massive heavy door on the right.

  “Yes, what is it?” Pastor Robinson himself opened the door, and from where he stood, Gilbert could see Humility standing near a large desk in front of some high bookcases. She gave him a startled look, but he kept his eyes fixed on the man in front of him.

  “I’m sorry to intrude, Pastor Robinson. Perhaps I should come back later?”

  “No, no, come right in, Mr. Winslow.”

  Robinson stepped back and nodded to his wife, who turned and left. Gilbert went in to stand in front of the desk, saying, “Why, it’s Miss Cooper!”

  Pastor Robinson said, “I think Miss Cooper was just leaving—”

  Gilbert waved a hand hurriedly and said, “Oh, no! I only wanted to stop by and see if you could spare me a little time, Pastor.”

  “Time for what, Mr. Winslow?”

  “Well, I have been much aware of late of my need for a deeper knowledge of the Word of God, and if you could be my mentor, I believe it would be a great blessing to me.”

  A willing smile crossed Pastor Robinson’s face, and he said, “Why, certainly! Why don’t we begin to meet on a regular basis—say, at three this afternoon? Perhaps that would be suitable?”

  “Excellent!” Gilbert cried, and he shrugged slightly, saying, “I’m afraid you’ll find me dreadfully stupid! My time at Cambridge seems to have been totally wasted!”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Robinson said, “but I can recommend a list of books that we might begin with.” He leaned over his desk, wrote rapidly across a sheet of paper with a goose quill pen, then handed it to Gilbert. “These will do to begin with—if you need to purchase them, I believe you’ll find them at the bookshop down by the market.”

  Gilbert gave a negative shake of his head, “I’m afraid I don’t know the place.” He did, but he was hopeful that he could lure Humility Cooper away. He was totally successful.

  Robinson nodded toward Humility. “Humility, would you be so kind as to show Mr. Winslow the bookshop? It isn’t out of your way, I believe.”

  She gave Winslow a quick look, then said, “Of course, Pastor. If you’re ready then, Mr. Winslow—?”

  As Pastor Robinson led them out the door, he asked by way of parting, “Humility, are you going on the trip that Bess has been pestering me to death about—over to Bargsteen with that group of young people? I doubt her father will permit it.”

  Humility smiled and shook her head, “Oh, she’s going, all right. Did you ever know Bess to fail at doing exactly what she wanted to do?”

  The pastor shook his head. “I wish you’d go with them, Humility. I’d feel much better, and I’m sure your parents would also if you would accompany Bess.”

  “If you say so, I’ll be glad to.”

  Immediately Gilbert said, as if in surprise, “Bargsteen—Bargsteen? Why I have to make a trip to Bargsteen! That’s one of the cities I’ll have to make a business trip to for Lord North.”

  “Why, perhaps you can serve two purposes, Mr. Winslow,” Robinson said quickly. “If possible, perhaps you might go along with these young people as sort a companion and see to your business at the same time. They leave day after tomorrow—would that suit your purpose?”

  Gilbert nodded and appeared to think about it. “Day after tomorrow—let me see—why, the very thing! It will work out admirably! And I’ll have the opportunity to do some small service for the congregation—perhaps the first of many, Pastor Robinson.”

  “Fine, fine!” Pastor Robinson said. “Well then, Humility, if you’ll show Mr. Winslow his way, he can get his books, and we’ll begin to make a theologian out of him—and thank you very much, Humility.”

  “Come, Mr. Winslow, I’ll show you the bookshop.”

  As he walked along the cobblestone streets toward the center of the village where the bookshop was located, Gilbert said, “You’re looking lovely today,
Humility.”

  His use of her first name made her cast a quick glance at him, but the pleased expression immediately changed to a frown. “Thank you, Mr. Winslow.” She slightly emphasized the word mister, but Gilbert had seen the startled expression of pleasure.

  “Mr. Winslow, I’m happy to hear that you’re starting to study the Word of God with Pastor Robinson. I feel he is the most able minister in the whole world.”

  She had shown, Gilbert realized, a defense against men, and there was no quick way to penetrate it. He thought then of the trip proposed by the young people which he had agreed to participate in, and determined that he would break her resistance down one way or another on that trip. For the present he had another scheme, so he said when they got to the bookshop and she turned to leave, “Thank you very much, Humility, for your assistance. I’ll see you again soon, the Lord willing.”

  He felt no guilt at the religious expressions he used, for he was convinced that Humility Cooper was playing one game—the game of being a Christian saint. He was simply playing another game in order to achieve his own ends. If he could find out from this girl the whereabouts of William Brewster, it would be simply a matter of winning a game—and he was better at his game than she was at hers.

  * * *

  “I’m glad you’re going on this trip with the young people, Mr. Winslow. Pastor Robinson tells me you’re studying theology with him, and I’m quite pleased that you are choosing to do so.”

  William Bradford had drawn Gilbert aside on the morning of the departure for Bargsteen. Gilbert had been aware that there was a reservation in Bradford’s manner, and he had gone out of his way larding the elder with scriptural quotations and pious talk on every occasion. Now he felt sure that he had gotten the confidence of the man, and he said modestly. “I do feel that God is speaking to me in an unusual way, Elder Bradford. I trust that I will be found worthy to join your congregation before too long.”