Deborah Hale

The Bride Ship


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is a much tastier breakfast than we’ve enjoyed in a good while.” At a table in the ship’s crowded galley, Jocelyn savored the modest luxury of a fresh egg. “I don’t mind that we’ve had to wait until past noon to get it.”

      Lily Winslow concentrated on her eager consumption of plump, crisp sausages. “I heard the men who brought these provisions say they were compliments of His Excellency, the governor, from his very own farm. Imagine, the governor of the colony taking such an interest in our welfare! He must be a very kind man.”

      Sir Robert Kerr—kind? The good reports Colonel Carmont had given her of the man last night over dinner could not keep a bitter chuckle from rising in Jocelyn’s throat.

      “If he’s taking such an interest in our welfare,” said Hetty Jenkins, “why don’t he let us off this stinking boat before we all go barmy?”

      Several more of Jocelyn’s charges took up the question.

      “Why won’t they let us disembark?”

      “When can we go ashore, Mrs. Finch?”

      “Yes, Mrs. Finch—when?”

      Jocelyn glanced around the dimly lit galley at their anxious faces. She did not have the heart to tell them upon how slender a thread their hopes hung. “Now, my dears, we must exercise a little patience. I fear the ship carrying our letter of introduction must have been lost at sea. So our arrival in Halifax was quite unexpected.”

      From what little she had seen of the town, last evening on the way to the Carmonts’, Halifax had not appeared very large. Finding suitable accommodations for so numerous a party might prove difficult. Against her will, she felt a glimmer of sympathy for Governor Kerr.

      “But they are happy to see us, aren’t they?” asked Lily, the orphan daughter of a country parson. Her calm manner during the rigors of the voyage had won Jocelyn’s respect and trust. “Such a great crowd came out yesterday to bid us welcome.”

      “Yes, indeed,” replied Jocelyn, referring to the size of the crowd, not the sentiments that had motivated it.

      She sensed that curiosity, not goodwill, had drawn most of yesterday’s onlookers. If only she and her charges were given a fair chance, she believed they could win a sincere welcome from the colonists. Certainly the gentlemen to whom Sally Carmont had introduced her last night seemed well disposed toward her mission. But would their support prove strong enough to sway their stubborn governor?

      The ship had not been ordered out of port—yet. Jocelyn seized upon that as a hopeful sign. “I’m certain everything will be arranged soon, and we will be at liberty to disembark.”

      She prayed so, at least. These fresh provisions from the governor’s farm were a great boon, to be sure. But the strain of forty women crowded together for weeks on end was beginning to take its toll on everyone’s temper. After returning from her lovely dinner with the Carmonts, Jocelyn had been called to settle no less than a dozen quarrels among her charges.

      “The first thing I mean to do when I get ashore,” said Louisa Newton, a pale girl who had suffered from violent seasickness for much of the voyage, “is kneel down and kiss dry land!”

      Some of the others laughed and nodded their agreement.

      “I shan’t waste my kisses on the ground,” announced Vita Sykes, a saucy little minx who had caused Jocelyn no end of trouble since they’d set sail. “I mean to kiss the first man I see. There were a few fine-looking ones on the dock yesterday. That governor fellow you went off with wasn’t half-bad, Mrs. Finch. Is he married?”

      The bold question brought a stinging blush to Jocelyn’s cheeks.

      Before she could find her voice to answer, Hetty Jenkins cried, “A fine governor’s wife you’d make, Vita, with no more morals than a cat. I saw you, last night, pawing at that soldier who was guarding the gangway!”

      “You’ve got sharp eyes, carrothead!” Vita grabbed a large fistful of Hetty’s bright red hair. “How’d you like them scratched out, eh?”

      Hetty’s fist flew but missed Vita to box one of the other girls on the ear. By the time Jocelyn threw herself into the fray it had escalated to a full-scale brawl.

      “Enough!” she cried. “Stop this at once!”

      She squealed when grasping fingers found her hair and pulled.

      “If this does not stop…” Sharp fingernails scored her cheek. “I shall send everyone involved straight back to England!”

      Her threat calmed the mayhem a little, but she wasn’t sure they could all hear her above the racket.

      “Mrs. Finch!” The first mate’s resonant bellow accomplished what she had been unable to, freezing the galley in a silent, violent tableau.

      Into the stunned hush, he announced, “Visitors to see you up on deck, ma’am.”

      Visitors? “Tell them I’ll be along, directly,” Jocelyn answered in a tone of false brightness.

      Once the crewman was out of earshot, she ordered Vita and Hetty confined to their cabins.

      “As for the rest of you,” she announced in a harsh whisper, “I did not want to tell you this, but not everyone is anxious to welcome us to the colony. If word of this kind of behavior gets out I fear we will be sent packing!”

      She glared at every young woman brave enough to meet her eyes. “Now remember what is at stake and conduct yourselves accordingly.”

      She swept out of the galley amid a subdued chorus of “Yes, Mrs. Finch.”

      As Jocelyn hurried up the steep stairs to the main deck, fear and hope warred within her. Had she been summoned to witness their departure from Halifax…or for some eleventh-hour reprieve? Hope gained the upper hand when she found Colonel and Mrs. Carmont waiting for her, along with Governor Kerr.

      Sally’s smile twisted into a grimace when she caught sight of Jocelyn. “My dear! Whatever happened? Are you all right?”

      For an instant, Jocelyn puzzled what her friend meant. Then, a gust of salty sea air made her cheek sting.

      The fight! Her summons to the deck had driven it from her mind entirely. With one hand she reached up in a futile effort to tidy her hair. The other flew to her face to cover the scratches. Dear heaven, she must look like the worst type of woman Governor Kerr had accused her of being!

      She braced herself to confront his disdainful stare. Instead, his stern countenance had softened in a look of concern. That unsettled her further.

      “I’m fine, truly! I just had a little tumble below deck.”

      The moment the words left her lips, she wished she’d swallowed them. For tumble had another meaning…

      Was it just her fancy, or did the governor’s firm mouth twitch from a suppressed grin?

      When he spoke, however, he sounded serious as ever. “Ships can be tricky places to keep one’s footing. You must take care, Mrs. Finch.”

      His feigned concern for her well-being goaded Jocelyn. “May I remind Your Excellency that I would prefer to be ashore where I would not have to be so careful of my footing. What brings you here, sir? Have you come to see us off in person? Bid us a safe voyage?”

      If that were the case, there could be no advantage to holding her tongue. She’d give Governor Kerr a piece of her mind before he evicted her from his colony.

      The governor shook his head. “As a matter of fact, I have come on a rather different errand.”

      “Pray, what might that be?” Though she warned herself to keep her hopes in check, Jocelyn could not suppress them altogether.

      “Upon reflection,” said the governor, “I see I may have acted rather hastily yesterday.”

      Yes! Yes!

      When