The Brideship Wife

by Leslie Howard

  “He told me he’s from Yorkshire. His father is a wealthy landowner, and he’s to inherit…” I trailed off. “Not that that’s what matters to me. He’s kind, and a free thinker who deeply cares about others.”

  She came over to me. “But you have to admit, he’s an odd sort. Is he even a properly ordained minister? It could all be lies. In truth, he reminds me of our father, and look how well that turned out for Mama.” I could smell lavender and face powder as she leaned in. “Marriage is all women have. You know that full well, Charlotte. And to marry, you need to protect your virtue, not throw it away on some girlish romantic whim!”

  “This is not a romantic whim! He’s the first man I’ve ever truly felt a connection with. It’s not just romance, there’s something deeper.”

  “You haven’t learned anything, have you?” Harriet said, her voice bitter. “Women don’t get to choose their lives. We adapt our lives to the man we marry, the man who protects and supports us. The right sort of men.”

  “Men like Charles and George, you mean?”

  “No. Men like Cousin Edward, for example.”

  “Edward? The man who cares more for his prize roses than his own children? Not to mention that he is our first cousin. How could he have possibly been right for me?”

  “Marriage to first cousins happens in the aristocracy. We could have kept the estate if you married Edward. Mama told me it was a missed opportunity.”

  I felt my face go hot at the thought of my near miss, and at the two of them plotting my future without any regard for my wishes. In all honesty, I couldn’t really fault them. Not once did I ever speak up for myself or challenge them. If I had married Edward, we probably wouldn’t be in the predicament we were now. But there was still a part of me that resisted everything that Harriet was saying, a part that wanted my fate to be of my own making.

  “Life is dealing us a whole new hand,” I said, unclasping my necklace. “Let’s play it and see where it takes us.”

  “And what if it takes us to another disaster?” she pressed. “You don’t have the best track record, Char.”

  “Neither of us do.”

  It was such a rare thing for Hari and me to have strong words, and both our faces were flushed.

  “It was just a cup of tea,” I said, quietly but firmly. “But I’m going to take it further and see what comes of it.”

  Hari took a long look at me, as if seeing me anew.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I had a fitful sleep, only dozing off in the early hours of the morning, and as a result, I overslept. Sunlight streamed through the window and outer door seams, filling the room with light. My first thought was for Harriet. I regretted some of what I had said last night to her and hoped we could make amends today. I swung my feet out of bed and padded towards the door to her room, but she wasn’t in her bed. Had she already gone to breakfast?

  I dressed quickly, cursing myself for not hanging up my gown the night before. I had left it lying across the top of my trunk and now it was in a heap on the floor. Outside, I squinted into the blinding light and was surprised to see us tied securely to a brightly painted blue dock. We were here. The island of Bermuda. Tall palm trees beckoned from a distance, and the intoxicating smell of tropical flowers infused the air. The ocean had lost the dark blue palette of the North Atlantic, replacing it with an exotic aquamarine.

  Sir Richard would be sending off his letter to the prime minister, but mine would go to Wiggles as well. And of course, there would be news from home. I was sure the broadsheets would be in hot demand this morning.

  The breakfast room was buzzing with excitement, and I could see several ladies absently nibbling at their breakfast as they pored over letters from home, while others, mostly the men, had broadsheets laid out on the table in front of them. A few patrons glanced up at me curiously as I scanned the room for Harriet. Where was she? Mrs. Burk appeared at my elbow. After last night, she was the last person I wanted to see.

  “Charlotte, I didn’t expect to see you out and about today.”

  I had no time for her nonsense. “Why is that?”

  A wide grin spread across her face. “Why, the news from home! How is your poor dear sister? We all feel so sorry for her. Such a public humiliation!”

  I stared uncomprehendingly at Mrs. Burk’s large white teeth. Public humiliation? What was she talking about? Had news of George and me gotten out? I needed to find Harriet. I didn’t even bother to excuse myself.

  I searched the usual spots, the rows of deck chairs and the small library, everywhere encountering pointed looks and whispers. Eventually, I gave up and returned to our cabin. Hari lay on her bed with dishevelled hair, tear-streaked cheeks, and rumpled clothes.

  “Hari, what on earth? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  “You don’t like my new look? This is what all the discarded, washed-up old women are wearing this season.”

  “What are you talking about?” I looked around the room. Strewn all over the floor were torn bits of paper. “What’s all this?”

  “Charles’s solicitors have sent divorce papers.” She made a sweeping gesture at the shredded papers. “You can see what I thought of them.”

  “Oh, my Lord!” I had expected the gossip to be about me. I knew Charles was ruthless, but never in a hundred years would I have predicated this. “Can he force the issue if you refuse?”

  Hari’s laugh was dry and hollow. “Too late. The divorce is duly executed. The papers don’t require my signature. It’s done. I’m a public laughingstock now.”

  “There must be some mistake. There has to be legal grounds for divorce.”

  “There is,” Harriet said, picking at her fingernails. “Adultery.”

  “That’s ridiculous! You were trying to have a baby with him. Surely we can fight this.”

  “It doesn’t matter. No one would believe me.”

  “But what would make Charles think you’ve been unfaithful?”

  “Dr. Randolph.”

  My mind flashed back to a cold rainy day and the image of a darkly handsome man solicitously helping Hari into her coach. “What’s your doctor got to do with this?”

  “He has a certain… reputation,” Hari said, not meeting my eyes. “I lied before. I did wonder if the reason I wasn’t getting pregnant was due to some problem with Charles, but of course, I couldn’t say that to him. I needed to produce an heir at any cost. On some level, it made perfect sense. But…”

  “But?” I held my breath, waiting for her next words, not sure if I wanted to hear them.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted to save our marriage, not destroy it. And this is my reward. Charles convinced a judge to dissolve our marriage without any input from me. He even didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

  I had been fearing retribution, though I couldn’t have anticipated it would look like this. I sat next to Harriet. “Perhaps he didn’t want to know the truth. His ambition blinded him. He saw a convenient opportunity and seized it. I’m sorry, Harriet. I know it can’t be easy.”

  “I wasn’t under any illusions that Charles and I were deeply in love, but I thought he held notions of honour and loyalty. The worst part is the broadsheets. The divorce is front-page news.” Hari took a shaky breath. “That and a sketch of the new presumptive Lord Ainsley. Included in the picture are his three adorable adopted sons. The oldest, James, is named as his heir.”

  A dull anger churned inside me. I wished I lived in a world where I could give Charles a good telling off, make him right his wrongs, but I knew I would never get the chance. He was the winner of this high-stakes game. “We will weather this storm just as we have all the others. We’ll build a new life in the colonies where no one has ever heard of us.”

  Even as I said it, I knew there would be no avoiding this scandal. This news would surely reach Victoria and everywhere else in the empire. There was no escape for Hari. I just prayed it wouldn’t destroy her. I put my arm around her, but she grew r
igid and pushed me away.

  “Leave me now, Char,” she said. Her eyes glazed over and she had an oddly detached look on her face. “All I want to do is sleep.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Life on the ship changed drastically. While Captain Hellyer still occasionally asked us to dine with him, Sir Richard, Lady Persephone, and most of the other first-class passengers shunned us. Whenever we entered the dining room, there were stares and whispers. Other than Dr. Carson and John, no one invited us to join them. Dr. Carson expressed his sympathy for what Harriet was going through, as did John.

  “It doesn’t seem right,” he said. “But these things are seldom fair to women.”

  He was so understanding and easy to talk to—part of me wanted to confide the whole story, but I couldn’t betray Harriet’s confidence. She was polite but cool to the two men and withdrew from shipboard society once again. I followed suit, and we took most of our meals in the cabin. Now, more than ever, I needed to make a good marriage. I was determined to make a home for Hari, just as she had for me when Papa died. As much as I liked him, John wasn’t that man, but I was still drawn to him.

  On the other hand, Hari no longer minded my working with Dr. Carson, and I continued to do so. The work gave me the opportunity to see Sarah and little Jacob, and Florence, whom I had become quite close to. I appreciated that they didn’t judge me the way the other passengers did. I didn’t have much time to socialize with them though. Dr. Carson needed my help. The number of accidents belowdecks had spiked because of a change in weather.

  Ever since we left Bermuda, it had become horribly hot and humid. With the winds nonexistent, the sails were tied off and the ship’s steady progress came from the coal-fed screw engine alone. No trade winds provided relief from the hourly hauling of coal and stoking of engines. I was thankful we had replenished stores of laudanum, which we were handing out to treat burns and crushed fingers and toes with surprising regularity even for Dr. Carson.

  As the weeks went by, Hari remained confined to our cabin, though once or twice in the night I woke to find her gone. I never asked her where she went, but assumed she was walking the deck when she could be alone and free of judging stares. When she wasn’t sleeping, she lay listlessly on her bed looking off into space, saying little. The bloom that had flowered in her cheeks in recent weeks was on the wane. She was beginning to have the same hollow-eyed, white-faced look of before. I was deeply worried about her, but I had no idea how to help her this time.

  I tried to draw her out with various things, a game of cards, or sweets I regularly bought from the small canteen. Wiggles had sent me a letter, and I even read it out loud in an attempt to buoy her spirits. It was full of news and a funny anecdote about how Edward had made a pompous fool of himself at the village flower show when his roses didn’t win first place. It made me laugh. As much as our prospects were dire, I was thankful that my destiny was no longer caught up with him and his children.

  * * *

  I was standing at the rail, looking forlornly out at the horizon, lost in my worries, when I felt the wind begin to pick up for the first time in weeks. I turned back to the deck, now a blur of activity as the crew scrambled to unfurl some of the sails. For so long, it had felt as if we were almost sitting still, but now, finally we were really moving. All I wanted to do was to get off the ship and be back on dry land.

  Many of the first- and second-class passengers came out on top deck to admire the impressive clouds forming in the sky. I saw Sir Richard, Lady Persephone, and the Burks all taking in the sight. A group of young swells gathered at the railing, dressed as though they were heading out for a Sunday afternoon stroll in Hyde Park. They laughed and poked each other with their elbows, pointing at the clouds as they called out names like Thor’s hammer, Odin’s anvil, and Zeus’s chariot with jocularity.

  The names that the young men had given the formations were apt. I could imagine what the ancient Greeks would have thought of such a scene. There was Zeus himself, in a mighty chariot, drawn across the sky by four gold-winged chargers. His left hand was drawn back, preparing to release a deluge of lightning bolts. And behind him rode the lesser gods, coming to amuse themselves by wreaking havoc on the wretched mortals below. I had once had the good fortune to visit Covent Garden to attend a performance of Wagner’s Die Walküre and hear “Ride of the Valkyries.” Its bold percussions filled my head as I gazed skyward.

  Sun caught the very highest snow-white plumes, giving them the inviting appearance of spun sugar, but below them, the clouds darkened ominously until the sky overhead turned from whitewashed blue to dark, angry grey, then black. A storm was coming.

  I felt a nudge at my elbow. It was Hari. She looked pale and tired in spite of spending much of her time sleeping. Her hand sought mine and I gave it a squeeze, happy that she was up and out of our cabin.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Captain Hellyer called, coming out into the centre of the upper deck. “As you can no doubt see for yourselves, we are heading into a gale. The barometric pressure is extremely low, which means this will be a storm force we seldom see. But there’s no need to panic. The Tynemouth is an extremely sturdy ship. She’s withstood major gales in the Black and Mediterranean Seas when she was on duty with the Royal Navy. But for safety’s sake, no one will be allowed on the decks for any reason during the storm, so I’d kindly ask you all to return to your cabins.”

  As people quickly began to disperse, Reverend Burk waved his arms in the air to capture Captain Hellyer’s attention. “Please, Captain, a moment for the Lord. Let us pray for deliverance.”

  Without waiting for Captain Hellyer’s permission, he and Mrs. Burk clutched hands and bowed their heads. The captain sighed deeply, dropped his chin slightly, and closed his eyes.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Harriet, a prickle of anxiety taking root in my brain. But our pace was slow because there were too many people in front of us blocking the deck, all trying to make it through the main door that led directly into the dining room.

  “Dear Lord, look down upon these poor, wretched souls and save us from this devil-sent apocalypse,” Reverend Burk began. “Smite the devil, dear Lord, so that we, with your grace, may survive this journey through the fringes of hell and live to glory in your bright light another day.”

  I smelled the tropical dampness—a mixture of palm, cocoa, and sugar cane—before I saw the rogue wave bearing down on us. It was still some distance away but moving at incredible speed. We had to go.

  “And, Lord, for those of us wretched sinners who are not destined to survive this cataclysmic catastrophe, take us unto your bosom, Lord. Forgive us our sins and make room in the kingdom of heaven. Let us sit at the feet of Jesus for all eternity.”

  “Wave!” a woman in the crowd screamed.

  Captain Hellyer looked up and saw the curtain of white headed towards us. “Everyone inside!”

  There was a moment of eerie calm when the muggy air seemed to stand still, and then the crowd surged forward. Beside me, Harriet tripped, and as I stooped to reach for her, I felt a hand pulling me up.

  “John,” I said. He didn’t say anything, only kept a tight grip on Harriet and me, pulling us through the crowd.

  “Bring her about, Mr. Fulbright,” Captain Hellyer yelled shrilly at the pilot. The wind snatched at his words, but I could just make out, “Head into the wind or we’ll be swamped!”

  The boat lurched to one side and we struggled to remain upright as a sheet of blinding, stinging water pummeled the ship, surging over the deck and soaking our bodies. We worked our way along the deck, past several cabins until we reached our door. John didn’t let go until we were safely inside.

  The three of us stood there wet and shivering until I rummaged through our things and found towels to wrap up in. “Thank you for your help out there,” I said to John. It was only then that I noticed he had a thick rope tied around his waist and crisscrossed across his chest and back.

  “What’s this for?”

&nbs
p; “It’s a harness so I can’t be washed overboard.”

  “Why? You’re not going back out there?”

  “Yes, I’m moving the animal pens. The cow and pigs aren’t safe where they are, so we’re moving them up to this deck.” He couldn’t suppress a grin. “They’ll be travelling first-class from now on.”

  “And so they should.” I smiled back. “But be careful.”

  “Yes, please do take good care, Reverend Crossman,” Hari said, and her voice was sincere. “You’ve been very kind to help us today. Thank you.”

  John nodded, then headed out of our cabin directly onto the storm-tossed deck. Hari and I set about changing out of our wet things and then we vowed to remain safely where we were for the storm’s duration. But I couldn’t help but worry about John.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I poured myself a glass of sherry to steady my nerves and sat up with my book even though the gyrations of the ship made it hard to read. I was surprised Hari could sleep. I thought back to the first storm, when I discovered Hari’s addiction. She had slept through that gale as well, I recalled. And then it struck me, her listlessness, declining health, and endless sleeping—Hari was taking drugs again.

  “No, no, no, no,” I muttered, getting up and going into her room. “Harriet,” I said, but she didn’t stir. Her breathing was very shallow and her pulse was hard to find. I opened the drawer in the bedside table. Several spent vials rattled in the bottom of the space. I had no idea how much she had taken today, but it must have been more than the two she took to get her through the first storm. I tried to shake her, but with no luck.

  “How could you do this again?” I yelled, but I knew the answer. And I knew that she would die if I didn’t get help soon. I had to find Dr. Carson.

  As I opened the front door of our cabin, the storm, in all its fury, took my breath away. The sound struck me first. The wind had turned the sail spars on all three masts into high-pitched tuning forks, screeching a cacophony of vibrating flat notes, and my ears ached at the noise.