THREE: A Brother’s Duty
Nicholas Appleton

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My friends were all still staring out the window at Abigail when I climbed back into the carriage. I tapped the roof of the coach impatiently, signaling to the driver to slap his reins and start the horses.

“Is Darla working at the tavern tonight?” I nudged Benjamin Pine, forcing him to look at me instead of my sister.

But the tactic of bringing up his whore did not distract him. Instead, my friend sighed as if he had never laid eyes on a pretty face before. “Good God! Nicholas, your sister only seems to grow lovelier with time.”

I frowned. I had not liked men gawking at Abby two years ago, and I realized that I dislike it even more now. “Have you gone off your ‘lady’ so suddenly?” I asked crossly. Darla is the name of the whore at Osbourne’s Tavern that Benjamin has been sweet on for the last few weeks.

“No, no, of course not…damned good-looking sister, though I doubt she is capable of performing any of Darla’s tricks.” He muttered.

At this, the reverie that my friends seemed to have been put in upon the sight of Abigail broke, and everyone laughed at Benjamin’s raucous reference to his preferred whore’s infamous bedchamber talents. I laughed along, glad that the subject had moved beyond Abby, though I was somewhat uncomfortable with my friend’s comparison of my favorite sister to his favorite tavern maid.

The conversation continued on in the routine bawdy manner. Usually, I enjoyed joining in with my friends’ lewd comments concerning women and whatnot. But with the sight of my mother and my sisters still fresh on my mind, I could not manage to join in. All I could picture was the horrified expression that would surely appear on Mother’s face if she ever found out my friends and I frequented brothels and engaged in acts of indecency with loose women.

Next to me, Jacob Stanger was also somberly quiet. Unlike me, though, Jacob has always been uncomfortable about our dealings with improper women. I suppose that is because he is so much more high-minded than the rest of us. He has never, to my knowledge, lain with a whore, though that could very well be due to the fact that he has plenty of respectable women throwing themselves at his feet, and could no doubt have whomever he wishes in bed.

“So, that is your sister?” Jacob spoke so quietly that, amidst the laughter of the other men, I could hardly hear him.

“Aye, that is Abigail.” I replied, in mild surprise. I had nearly forgotten that Jacob had only come to Boston two years ago, so he had not yet made the acquaintance of my sister, like all my other friends. “Do you fancy her handsome?” I asked quickly. I was much surprised at my own boldness. Though I despise Benjamin Pine and the rest of my friends ogling Abby, I found myself thinking that I should not mind at all if Jacob Stanger were to admire her.

“She is very lovely.” My particular friend replied in his serious, mild-mannered way.

“She is not betrothed.” I pushed on. The thought of a match between my dearest friend and my dearest sister appealed more and more.

“Really?” His face brightened.

“No, not at all,” I said earnestly. “Mother reported that she was rather close with a Captain Lucas Strycker in England, but he had to return to army service before they could make a proper match of it, so her heart is completely without strings. I could introduce you at Mrs. Ball’s party on Friday. If you attend, that is.”

The Stangers are an odd family. While Mr. and Mrs. Stanger appear at all local functions and balls with the flourish and flamboyancy that is customary of all important members of Boston, their sons hardly ever bother to show their faces. Jacob, simply because of his extreme shyness, does not like parties where he must dance with girls while their mothers drool over him as a prospective son-in-law. Jacob’s younger brother, Alexander, is yet another story. The younger Stanger boy is truly queer. He comes and goes as he pleases, sometimes donning the garb of mere servants or lowly street urchins just so he can have tongues waggling. Jacob, the forgiving and loving creature he is, has explained to me numerous times that his brother is merely free-spirited, but I myself still have my doubts. Why would any proper son of good family run about and allow himself to dress less than his station?

“I would consider it an honor to meet your older sister, as well as your mother and baby sister.” Jacob broke my thoughts with a shy smile.

I beamed, pleased with my efforts. My particular friend is a handsome man. My sister Abigail, who has always been attracted to things for their aesthetic value, will no doubt be happy that I am bringing her such a good-looking suitor.