Elias tapped a fresh deck of cards on its scarred surface. When people tired of watching workmen sling their hammers, they would seek refreshment, and the Salem Inn was the closest to Essex Street. Elias had just enough money in his pocket to stake a game.
Elias sipped his ale and let his thoughts wander. If his creditors visited Hasket’s office, they likely wanted surety on his gambling debts, or perhaps one of them was his tailor. I should have asked Zeke. Surely, Father won’t object to my new coat. On the other hand, he definitely objects to my poor investments. It’s not as if I control the markets or the weather, and I don’t have his deep pockets to cushion the losses.
Elias called for more ale. A few men came in and nodded to him but didn’t pull up chairs. I’ll never be able to marry Lucy if I don’t clear my debts enough to furnish a house. Thoughts of Lucy ignited a deep longing for his own hearth, no matter how simple. But Lucy deserved more than simple.
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