The Brideship Wife

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The Brideship Wife Page 8

by Leslie Howard


  “That quickly?” I felt a small flutter in my chest but ignored it. I remembered my promise. “Of course, I can see how that would solve a lot of problems.”

  “Yes, it would, but it’s more than that. I want to see you well looked after and taken care of. After that awful business with George, this could be a second chance to have it all. We mustn’t waste it.” She gestured to her back where the strings of her corset dangled limply. I braced my feet and pulled them as hard as I could, knowing how tight she liked them. “So you must make a good impression. I’ll help you with your corset. We’ll make a game of it. Who can tie them the tightest.”

  It was not my idea of fun, but I finished hers, knotting the strings in a neat bow, and stepped over to my trunk. Opening it, I looked down at the folds of fabric and instantly regretted my decision to leave my unpacking till later. My one good evening dress was terribly wrinkled. I tried it on and admired myself in the mirror. Despite the wrinkles, I thought I looked rather fine in the pale yellow-and-green tartan dress. It had wide accordion-pleated sleeves and a matching pleated midriff that flattered my figure. It would look even better once Hari tied me into my corset, I conceded.

  Hari, of course, looked magnificent dressed in the very latest style from one of the finest shops in London, a dark green velvet off-the-shoulder affair with small puffed sleeves and two rows of satin ruffles at the bottom of the skirt. The one flaw in her deportment was her jewels. They were fake, paste glass like most of mine. Charles had insisted she leave her diamonds and other precious gems with him for safekeeping. I had planned to keep the emerald necklace locked in the bottom of my trunk for the duration of the voyage, but making Hari happy seemed a priority at the moment, and I dug my red-lacquered jewellery box out of the trunk.

  “You can wear Wiggles’s beautiful necklace, if you like,” I offered. “You’ll want to impress Lady Persephone.”

  “Oh, yes, I would love to,” Hari said, her eyes lighting up in a way that reminded me of our days as children. She loved to dress up in our mother’s old discarded gowns and pretend we were having a fine tea in high society. It was not a game I enjoyed so much, but I went along with her then, just as I did now. Seeing her smile was my reward.

  As I helped her with the clasp, I hoped I wouldn’t have to sell the necklace right away. It was a beautiful piece, and Wiggles wanted me to do something meaningful with it.

  “When we get to Victoria, will we have enough money to live on?” I asked Harriet.

  She stroked the green pendant at her throat thoughtfully. “Charles gave me a modest allowance for the journey. Our needs will be taken care of.”

  “But what if we can’t find a match for me right away?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the slight optimism in my voice. “How will we live? Will I need to find employment?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ve found an alternate source of funds.” She turned away from the mirror.

  “From where?”

  “I’ve always taken care of you, so try not to worry about money. We’ll be all right.” She clasped one of her paste-glass necklaces around my neck. “There. Exquisite. Now, you just focus on delighting Sir Richard and Lady Persephone tonight.”

  As we walked to dinner, Hari briefed me on the other invitees. Two clergymen, Reverends Burk and Crossman, Mrs. Burk, and Dr. Carson, the ship’s surgeon. I murmured the names to myself, anxious to avoid any faux pas.

  When we arrived at the captain’s small dining quarters, the other guests were already there, and a waiter was serving predinner drinks. He handed Hari and me each a glass of sherry. I took a sip and looked around.

  The chamber, panelled on both walls and ceiling in dark wood, doubled as the chart room by day. The cramped space was barely large enough for the dining table, so the chart tables had been pushed hard into corners to make room. Four men lounged with their Scotches over a card game at one of the chart tables. I easily picked out the captain in his dress uniform, and another slim man in a less formal uniform I guessed to be Dr. Carson. The other two men, undoubtedly the reverends, were only remarkable in how different they were from each other, one round and short, the other lean and tall.

  When he saw us enter, Captain Hellyer left the game to welcome us. He was a man of average build about fifty years old, and his eyes were framed by starburst wrinkles—the aftereffect of years of squinting into the sun over reflective water.

  “Let me introduce you to the other ladies,” he said, and gestured towards two women in the centre of the room. One was short and plainly dressed, but the other was a regal woman with silver hair piled high on her head, a long prominent nose, and large blue eyes under heavy brows. She was dressed in elegant black, but her silk gown was decidedly staid with its high round neck, wide sweeping skirt, and raglan sleeves. Diamonds sparkled around her throat and wrists.

  “Lady Persephone,” Hari whispered in my ear, then turned to the captain. “Don’t worry about making introductions, Captain Hellyer. The lady and I know each other.”

  He smiled and returned to his game as Harriet made a beeline for Lady Persephone. Recognition dawned on her face when she saw Harriet.

  “Harriet Baldwin, what a treat,” she said. I saw warmth in her eyes, but her reaction to the surprise was controlled, as if any overt display of genuine affection would be unseemly. “Wait till Richard learns that you and Charles are on the voyage; he’ll be so gratified to hear. He won’t be joining us tonight, hasn’t quite got his sea legs yet, but this news will cheer him.”

  “It’s a delight to see you again, Lady Persephone.” Hari reached over and gently touched the older woman’s arm. “I’m afraid I shall have to disappoint your dear husband. Charles was unable to make the journey. So busy with his work at home.”

  “Oh?” A wrinkle appeared on Lady Persephone’s brow. “Richard tells me that issues in the colonies should be made a priority if the empire is going to continue to thrive. Perhaps we can persuade Charles to join you for a while? He can gather some firsthand knowledge. I’m sure I could get Richard to write and urge him.”

  “A wonderful idea,” Hari said, and I could tell she was delighted how easily her plan was falling into place. “I don’t believe you’ve met my sister, Miss Charlotte Harding?”

  “Miss Harding, yes, I’ve heard of you.” There was a pregnant pause while Lady Persephone looked long into my face. I could only hope she hadn’t heard the gossip.

  “How do you do?” I said.

  She nodded in reply, then turned to the other woman in our group. “Allow me to introduce Mrs. Gertrude Burk, wife of Reverend Burk.”

  She gestured to the card table and the short, round man seated there, and I realized that the Burks were the very stout couple I had witnessed directing their flock of young women to the lower decks earlier in the day. They had the look of two people married a long time, such that they closely resembled each other. Both were plump from every angle, and their bulbous flesh in various shades of pink strained the seams of their clothing. I thought of the crate of pigs I had seen loaded on the deck when we boarded.

  Mrs. Burk shook mine and Harriet’s hands. “Happy to make your acquaintance,” she said with a north England accent. “I’m sure we’ll all become good friends before this voyage is through.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Harriet said.

  The dinner chime sounded, and we all made our way to the table. Hari and I consulted the name cards and found our seats on either side of Captain Hellyer. He appeared and seated Hari while one of the other men pulled out my chair for me. I looked up over my shoulder to thank him and met the gaze of a very tall man with startlingly blue eyes.

  “Th-thank you,” I stammered as I sank into my chair.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, then took a seat opposite me.

  I pretended to examine the menu on my plate while surreptitiously glancing across the table to read his name card. Reverend John Crossman. He didn’t remind me at all of Reverend Smithson back home. Everything about him seemed large
r than life. His head was covered in thick, wavy black curls that extended uninterrupted into wide muttonchop sideburns. Dense whiskers ran down his cheeks into his jawline. The darkness of his hair and eyebrows made his cobalt-blue eyes all the brighter, while his Roman nose added just a touch of the patrician.

  On my left was Dr. Carson. Of average build, the doctor had very short, sandy hair with just a hint of matching facial hair. His face and body were wiry, the skin pulled tight over its frame with little or no fat to pad it. I guessed him to be in his late thirties, still young enough to be considered youthful, but something about the way he held himself, the back straight enough but with shoulders and neck pulled forward, suggested age beyond his years.

  “Will you do the honours, Reverend Burk?” Captain Hellyer said once we were all seated and the last of the introductions had been made. “The cook gets in a foul temper if we don’t stick to schedules.”

  We lowered our eyes as Reverend Burk cleared his throat and in his broad northern accent began what was to be a very lengthy beseech of the Lord to guide us through the perils that lay ahead. He did us the service of naming and expounding on each and every jeopardy one could possibly imagine afflicting our voyage. While I had plenty of things I was very fearful of, Burk’s endless list, delivered in his melodramatic style, soon began to seem a tad overdone.

  “Save us, Lord, from the frightful, savage gales that threaten to overturn our sturdy ship and toss us into the boiling hell of the sea. Save us, Lord, from disease and pestilence, smallpox, diphtheria, yellow fever, scarlet fever, rubella, dengue fever, polio, and cholera. Find it in your mighty power, Lord, to prevail upon the trade winds to blow so that we may not rot in the doldrums of the midlatitudes and finally die of scurvy. Bless our food so that weevils and worms do not spoil it and leave us, your devoted flock, to shrink to nothingness from malnutrition and eventual starvation.”

  As if to punctuate this last comment, the aroma of freshly roasted mutton wafted from the kitchen, but the reverend droned on, showing no sign of letting the meal begin. I peeked up at this harbinger of dire misfortune. I reckoned that he, and Mrs. Burk, could rest easy. Any threat of starvation was a long way off for them. I caught Reverend Crossman’s eye and saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

  “And what of the innocent young women you have entrusted into our care, dear Lord?” Burk continued on. “What evil lurks at every turn if, by your good grace, we should survive this voyage and reach the foreign shore? Spare them from the twin demons of drink and lust, Lord. If one or two of your flock should succumb to the devil’s temptation, fling them from your bosom, Lord. Fling them, Jesus, fling them from your heavenly heart. And I say, leave them be where Jesus flung them! We will only care for the pure of heart.”

  Burk paused for air, and Captain Hellyer took advantage of the moment and interjected a quick “Amen.” Then added, “Reverend Crossman, we don’t want to play favourites. Would you do the honours next time?”

  “Of course,” Reverend Crossman replied with a straight face.

  As the food was brought in, the captain warned that bad weather should be expected as long as we were in the northern Atlantic. He politely suggested we eat less than usual, especially if we were prone to seasickness. I noticed the dining table had developed a slight motion along with the ship and, with some trepidation, took a bite of the mutton in front of me.

  “Tell me, Reverend Crossman,” Harriet said. “Are you and Reverend Burk fellow travellers? Will you be working together when we reach the colony?”

  As always, my sister was at home in any social setting, and I was glad to see that she had regained some of her usual calm, self-assured demeanour. Both Lady Persephone and Mrs. Burk looked to the reverend for his response, but before he could, Reverend Burk spoke.

  “Reverend Crossman and I do not share the same philosophy when it comes to the Lord’s work with the heathen. I firmly believe that the European civilization has defined the correct and only true path to salvation through worship. It is my role to bring light to the Natives to the extent that they are capable of understanding it.”

  He smiled at everyone around the table, inviting comment, but no one spoke, though Mrs. Burk was nodding. I looked to Reverend Crossman to hear his point of view, but he kept his head down, staring at the mutton and applesauce on his plate. I wondered if his frown was for the food or the last comment.

  Reverend Burk reached across the table for the wine bottle the waiter had left and poured himself a glass before he went on. “The burden I carry is a heavy one, and I say with all sincerity that I am relieved that the Lord did not see fit to trouble John with the same burden. Some of us are free to enjoy our earthly existence, whilst I must wait for my heavenly reward.”

  Reverend Crossman looked up then, his blue eyes twinkling. “The good Reverend Burk has me there. I do enjoy my time in the colonies. Fishing, trapping, hunting. I’ve even tried my hand at panning for gold. But, there are a few things I take very seriously.”

  “Such as?” I asked, curious enough to speak.

  He turned his intense focus on me. “My luggage is filled with tools I plan to offer to the Natives for their fight against smallpox. They are dying in startling numbers, and the government does little. I’ve read of awful things, whole villages wiped out in a matter of days.” A cloud passed over his face. “Once we land in British Columbia, I’ll head up the Fraser Canyon and visit as many villages as I can, offering training and supplies. That’s what’s important to me.”

  “I’d like to see how to administer those vaccinations,” Dr. Carson said from my left. He spoke in a strong Welsh accent.

  “I’d like to see how they’re done, as well,” I said, moved by the reverend’s impassioned speech. “I have a long-standing fascination with medicine. Most of my experience is with animals. I’ve presided over the births of some calves and foals on our family estate—”

  Harriet kicked my leg and I stopped short. Lady Persephone was studying me with raised eyebrows.

  “My sister had a childhood infatuation with animals, but it’s an interest she’s long outgrown,” Harriet said quickly.

  “You must show us how you convince the Natives to let you give them the pox, John,” Reverend Burk said, oblivious to any tension. “Your story would make for fine entertainment some evening. If our Miss Harding here is so impressed, you’ll be all the rage with the sixty single ladies on board.”

  “I would be very happy to show Miss Harding and Dr. Carson how I do smallpox vaccinations,” Reverend Crossman said simply, returning to his mutton.

  Dr. Carson turned to Reverend Burk. “How are the emigrant women faring so far? Are they in reasonable health?”

  “There are issues I can’t discuss in front of the ladies, Doctor. It seems some of them are not the innocent maidens they had presented themselves to be for the resettlement plan. I find in my line of work that many low-class females will happily lie in order to cover their sins, but the truth always comes out.”

  I lowered my eyes to my plate, but my appetite was gone. Outside the weather was picking up. The lantern that hung from the ceiling began to sway with the rolling ship, casting strobing lights and shadows about the room. The wind whistled through tiny cracks and openings in the outside wall of the room.

  “Captain Hellyer,” Lady Persephone said, delicately dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “My chef could do no better with a humble dish of mutton. My compliments to your cook.” She turned to Hari. “Sir Richard and I are looking forward to our time in Victoria with Governor and Mrs. Douglas. We have been told they are wonderful hosts. I’m sure Mr. Baldwin sent letters of introduction?”

  Hari could hardly suppress a smile. “Yes, of course. Charles only ever thinks of our comfort. We’ll be joining you and Sir Richard at the governor’s. Will you be staying long?”

  “A few months. Richard is bringing a special dispatch from Pam. There’s great concern about the horde of Californian gold seekers flooding north n
ow that their own gold rush has run dry. There’s even talk of an attempt at American annexation. They want the whole western coast, all the way to Alaska, and it’s said they are even trying to buy Alaska from the Russians. More British emigration is the only way to halt the erosion of British sovereignty.”

  Lady Persephone’s words reminded me of what I had heard at the emigration meeting. It seemed to me that the empire was getting rather far-flung; there were so many colonies and Britain itself was far away from most. Perhaps it was more prudent to focus on remedying the problems within our existing colonies closer to home.

  “I wonder,” I said tentatively, “how Britain can effectively manage so many territories.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized it was the wrong thing to say, especially to the prime minister’s cousin. I didn’t need Harriet’s kick under the table to tell me that.

  Lady Persephone’s eyes narrowed. “We do very well. We British were born to be rulers of lesser peoples. It’s God’s will.” She raised her wineglass. “To the empire, may the sun never set upon her.”

  There was a cacophony of scraping chairs as we all rose to our feet. “The empire,” we cried, raising our glasses in unison.

  “What draws you to the colony, Miss Harding?” Lady Persephone asked when we’d sat down again.

  I didn’t know how to reply. I wasn’t so much drawn as forced, but I couldn’t tell Lady Persephone that. “I…”

  “My sister is selflessly stepping forward to do what is in the best interests of the empire,” Harriet said. “She’s willing to settle in one of our furthest outposts in order to make a respectable marriage with one of our native sons and raise a good Christian family.”

 

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