The boat lurched and groaned in the wind. Bettina’s stomach rolled with the next heave. A boom of thunder echoed outside.
“Perhaps they shouldn’t sail in this storm.” She squeezed closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
He gripped her upper arm. “I want to be selfish and hope this man knows what he’s doing.”
A brutal jolt shook the boat. Then a wavering motion creaked the vessel’s fabric as sails must have caught wind. Empty bottles rattled across the deck.
Everett hugged her to his chest where his heart vibrated. “We must have set sail. Our journey begins.” His hand caressed through her hair and he kissed the top of her head. “I can taste England already. Thank God.”
Bettina only tasted bile. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. Her eyes watered from the fish stench. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Calm yourself, darling.” He stroked her cheek. She pressed her face into his lapel and concentrated on breathing through her mouth.
The vessel bounced, vibrating her teeth, then listed far to the left. Bettina’s intestines gurgled and she couldn’t tolerate much more. The boat’s bulkheads closed in on her. “I need...air. I have to breathe cool air.” She gasped, rose, and staggered for the ladder.
“No.” Everett hopped up, reaching for her, but stumbled in the heaving vessel. “There must be a bucket you can use. Let me find one.”
“A moment of fresh air, I’ll be fine.” She dodged his grasp and scaled the rungs. The hatch cover shoved open, she climbed to chest high and gulped in air. A cold splash of rain soothed her hot cheeks.
“Come back down, please.” Everett reached the ladder and grabbed her heel, but her shoe jerked off in his hand.
The boat listed to port. He hurled back down with a thud. Bettina staggered on the ladder, the rungs slick. She slid half out the hatch as the vessel dipped low. Her coat soaked, hair plastered to her face, she flailed her arms, and caught the lip of the hatch opening.
Sailors shouted at her as they clambered in the rigging above, trying to restrain the whipping sails in the weak dawn’s light.
“Bettina, hold on tightly!” Everett remounted the ladder. She felt it shudder beneath her. The craft jounced and listed far over. Foamy waves thrashed across the deck.
“Mon Dieu!” Her fingers slipped off the lip and she skidded out onto the slimy boards.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hands gripped her ankles. The boat righted and swayed. Bettina fought to inch backwards, bruising her palms and knees. Everett dragged her back through the hatchway, and they tumbled down the ladder.
She pressed her face to his chest. “I’m so sorry!”
“You’re safe now.” He wrapped his arms around her. They held each other, and she shivered in her soaked clothes, thankful for his warmth.
“Did you ever find that bucket?” Her stomach gurgled and rumbled.
He chuckled and massaged his fingers through her sopping hair. “Yes, darling. We’ll be fine now.”
The boat groaned and continued to jounce then settled to an even rhythm.
Eugene clattered down the ladder. “I said to stay below! We’re almost out of this squall.” He scratched his crotch, before he slammed back out the hatch.
Everett found a fishy smelling blanket and wrapped it around them both. They huddled against the bulkhead. If the boat sank at least they’d drown together. Bettina trembled, thinking of Christian and Genevre. How would they fare without their parents?
* * * *
The boat rocked for hours, days, it seemed, and Bettina forced down a biscuit and brackish water. Everett nudged open the hatch to hazy sunshine. “Let’s go topside, no matter what our insane captain says.”
He helped her up the ladder. On deck, Bettina slipped to the rail and drew in a deep breath of salty air. The gray-blue sea churned and slapped around the vessel. Sprays of mist cooled her flushed cheeks.
“I think I see land, over there.” Everett’s voice rose in excitement. He pointed, his other arm clinging to her. “May it please be England.”
A coastline appeared, gray and murky—a ghost on the horizon.
The scent of earth replaced the stink of fish.
“The winds were in our favor, they’ve pushed us across faster.” Eugene swaggered up beside them and pointed through the thick mist. “This should be your Cornwall. Only took two days, not so bad, non?”
“Grâce à Dieu, we’re home.” Bettina swept back her salt-encrusted hair and kissed Everett’s lips. His eyes sparkled with happiness.
“We must be quick. Near a beach we’ll whip you down the side. Hope no English warships patrol this area.” Eugene scratched his arm pit and left them to give orders to his men.
Every sound seemed to echo in the fog that now crept over the deck. The crew rushed about, pulling at ropes, rearranged sails. A man brought a rope with a wooden seat.
The boat hovered closer to the coastline. Water slurped over rocks. Gulls screeched at them from the air. Everett grabbed the ropes. “Let me down first, then I can help her.”
Bettina translated to the two burley men who grunted with a nod. They clapped the wooden seat on the rail. Everett climbed onto it. They dropped him over the side, dangling against the hull. She leaned over as he faded into the fog. Breath held, she didn’t release it until she heard a splash.
“All right, send her down, gently,” Everett called up through the miasma.
The men reeled up the rope seat. Bettina climbed on with their help. “Merci, to all of you. Monsieur Eugene, we are most grateful for your skill.”
“I will tell Louis we were successful, but I had no doubts.” Eugene winked his one good eye. “Au revoir.”
She grasped the rough hemp, settled on the seat and they lowered her over. Her back bumped the hull and she leaned forward slightly. Feet dangling, she swallowed hard as they inched her down. Fingers touched her ankles and she sighed with relief.
Everett embraced her and pulled her from the hard bench into his arms. He jerked on the rope and the fishermen clattered the seat back up into the mist. More splashes as men jumped out and pushed at the fishing boat to send her back out to sea.
“I’m hip-deep in water, hold on.” Everett turned and sloshed ahead, the fog swirling about them like layers of gauze.
Bettina clung to Everett’s neck as he carried her above the water. “I hope they make it to France safely,” she whispered into his throat.
He started up a rocky slope. “I wasn’t there to greet you on your first foray into England, but I welcome you now.”
She laughed. “Both times I have entered without proper papers. Put me down, I can walk, please.”
Everett kept hiking, straining up the slope. Pebbles skittered around his shoes. Bettina held on tighter. At the top, almost out of the mist, he set her on her feet.
His fists at his back, he stretched and stared at the sky. Then he bent and scooped up dirt. “English soil, at last.” He let the dirt sift through his fingers and laughed.
Bettina shivered in the cutting wind and looked down at his drenched breeches. “We must find shelter, food, a coach.”
He swung her close and kissed her, deeply. “Plus a bishop for a special license to marry us.”
“Two bedraggled sea creatures, we will be the scandal of the ton.” She touched his grinning face and her heart swelled. “I will finally be Madame Camborne.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The post-chaise from the Lizard rumbled up the coast. After a night in an inn, a hot soaking bath and a filling meal, they continued up to Sidwell. Everett almost squeezed the bones from her fingers at each familiar landmark. “A free man in my own country, with the woman I love.”
Bettina leaned into him. “I am glad to be back, too, but only because you are with me. W
e need to send a letter to Louisiana, right away, and have Maman bring our children home.”
He squeezed his arms around her and nibbled her earlobe. “Ah, our darling children, and I get to meet my mother-in-law.”
“She will approve of you.” Bettina glanced out the window at the slate cottages that hugged the hill on one side of the road and the cliffs on the other. “We’re almost to Sidwell. I can’t wait to see Maddie and Kerra.”
Farther into the village, hunched at the foot of the tallest hill, the inn looked oddly forsaken in the lengthening shadows. The sign for Maddie’s Ace creaked on rustier chains, this mournful grinding the only sound in a village huddled indoors from the winter mists. Yet to Bettina it trumpeted their homecoming.
She alighted from the chaise and rushed the few feet to the inn porch. Everett paid the chaise driver and followed her. Inside the front door, she hurried to warm her hands at the fireplace, finally reunited with her old haven. Yet the fire was dying and only one candle flickered near the kitchen door. The low-beamed taproom seemed cheerless. A strange, hollow feeling crept over her.
“Where is everyone? I hope there’s a hot meal, and a strong drink.” Everett nudged shoulders with her, warming his own hands over the earthy turf and furze.
“I could prepare you both, I have experience here.” She laughed, but glanced about this taproom where she’d toiled to survive her first year in Cornwall. The same dark wooden floor, barrels against one wall, and scattered tables and benches in the center. “Maddie, are you in the kitchen?”
“There in a minute. What can I get you?” called a weary voice. The owner stepped into the room carrying a pot, which she dried with a towel in lethargic motions. Disturbing dark circles were smudged under her eyes.
“Maddie, it is me.” Bettina stepped toward her.
“Preserve me! Child? Mister Camborne? Fie, be you a ghost?” Maddie’s green eyes wide, she dropped the pot with a clang to the floor, her hands fluttering over her heart.
“I’m sorry to startle you, but it’s really us.” Bettina squeezed her arms around the trembling woman. She smelled of ale and onions, home.
“Here, please sit, Miss Tregons.” Everett pulled over a chair.
“How could it be? My mind’s playing tricks.” Maddie plopped in the chair, shaking her brunette head under its white cap. “Mister Camborne, you’re supposed to be drowned.”
“I am a bit damp and battered, but never drowned.” He knelt by the chair and patted her hand. “It’s a long sordid story. Do you have a glass of Canary or Madeira to fortify a man?”
“I will pour it.” Bettina hurried to the back cupboard, snatched a bottle and fetched three glasses. She rattled the glasses onto a table, jerked out the cork and slopped in red wine.
“This be a dream, I’m certain sure of it.” Maddie took the glass, still staring at them both. “A very nice dream, even so.”
Everett gulped his wine down. Bettina took a sip of the beverage, her stomach warming to the robust Madeira.
“We’ll explain over a stew. I smell mutton from here.” Bettina dragged her old friend up from the chair.
“Where’s my manners? Come and eat. Gave me the frights, you did.” Maddie took a quick sip then handed her glass to Everett. “Mister Camborne, how we worried over you.” She turned to Bettina, hugged her, her eyes moist. “Oh, child, I know you’re so happy to have him back.”
“Each and every precious moment.”
In the kitchen, Maddie lifted a lid off a pot over the fire. Bettina pulled out two bowls and they sat at the little, rough-hewn table. She filled with warmth at this familiar kitchen, where she had sat and conversed with her friends, prepared meals, and grown into a responsible woman.
Maddie brought over a hunk of bread and jug of ale.
“You both look worn out and rumpled.” She served the stew and poured the ale. Then put her hands firm on their shoulders. “Now tell me everything.”
Bettina tasted the rich gravy, potatoes and mutton. “No one can cook a stew like yours. Is Ann still working here? Where is she?”
“Upstairs, gone to bed.” Maddie winked. “Should I wake her?”
“Let her sleep. Though she’d love to hear more terrible tales about my heathen country.” Bettina smiled at the idea of skinny, pious Ann, who’d harangued her from the moment Bettina stumbled into the arduous labor of the working classes. “Does Morley still work here?”
“Nay, he joined the army and is in Europe somewhere. Another reason for Ann to grumble.” Maddie shook her head.
Bettina explained her side of the story while Everett ate his stew. When he finished, he told his portion.
“A miracle, that it be.” Maddie sat and took a sip of ale. She looked older, her features drawn, with gray strands in her dark hair. “Mister Camborne, this woman o’ yours never once gave up on you. You best marry her quick now.”
“That is my first intention.” He lifted Bettina’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “We’ll spend the night here, then travel to London tomorrow for a special license, so we don’t have to wait for the banns to be called.”
“Are the two little mites is in New Orleans with your mother?” Maddie smiled for the first time. “I can’t wait to see ’em again.”
“If I can borrow ink and paper, I’ll write her and send a letter off from here.” Bettina felt heavy with drowsiness after eating. “Maman must be out of her mind with worry.” She stifled a yawn. “Will we have time to visit Kerra tomorrow? How are she and Charlie?”
Maddie stood and scooped up spoons and bowls, almost dropping one. She turned her back on them, shoulders stiff.
“Is everything all right, Maddie?” Bettina exchanged a worried look with Everett. “What…is it Kerra? Charlie? Their children?”
Maddie stepped to a bucket and clattered in the bowls and spoons. She turned slowly, her mouth pinched, her eyes sunk in melancholy. “Didn’t want to ruin our visit so soon. But s’pose I must, since my own self gives it away.”
Bettina rose and clasped her friend’s icy hands. “What has happened, please?” Her throat thickening in dread, she tugged Maddie back to the table.
Everett’s gaze intense, he poured her more ale. “Drink this, Miss Tregons.”
With a groan, Maddie dropped into her chair again. She gulped from her pewter cup. “Truth is, and it’s a hellaridden truth, Kerra was nigh on ready to have her third babe, three months ago now.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Aye, she went into labor, had such a rough time of it. Bled so bad, even calling the doctor…didn’t help.”
Bettina squeezed Maddie’s hand, as if the pressure could stop this terrible tale, change the outcome she feared awaited. “Mais non, don’t say...”
A whimper erupted in Maddie’s throat. She pulled from Bettina’s clench and wiped a towel across her dampening cheeks. “Kerra, you see...didn’t make it through.”
Bettina wobbled in the chair, her eyes blurring with tears. “No…it cannot…”
Everett reached over and clasped Maddie’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Kerra’s strong, strong as a mule she once told me!” Bettina’s protest shattered the air. She slapped her hands over her mouth and sobbed. “I…I’ve just come back to see her.”
Everett embraced Bettina, pulling her head under his chin. “Such horrible news, darling.”
“I always figured she were strong, too. Yet no changing what happened.” Maddie twisted the towel into a knot. “An’ happened mighty fast it seemed.”
“Can we do anything for the family?” Everett asked as he rocked Bettina. She was so thankful for his strong arms around her. She strained to calm her emotions.
“Not sure. Charlie buried her at their farm, near the pond. She always liked it there.” Maddie slowly rose to her feet and handed Bettina the towel to dry her cheeks. “N
ow he’s gotta raise three children by hisself. The third was a boy, Little Charlie.” She blinked and sighed. “Did you know...our mam died giving birth to Kerra?”
“Yes, I...” Bettina straightened and dabbed her eyes, trying to make sense of this shocking blow. “She did tell me that shortly after we met...out on the road.”
“Charlie’s mam moved in to help out.” Maddie tapped the table. “It’s late, let me take you up to a room. Get you settled...enough o’ this weepin’. In the morn, I’ll fix me some rosemary tea to keep that melancholy away.” She twice smoothed the edges of her apron with unsteady hands. “Has you any baggage, child? Mister Camborne?”
“No, we don’t. I keep losing every garment I own, one way or another.” Bettina sniffed and stood, her mind dazed. “I’ll ask my mother to bring my things from Louisiana when she brings the children.” She took Everett’s arm and they followed Maddie up the stairs. “Nevertheless, only people matter, not possessions.”
“Aye, the sweet children. It’ll be nice to see ‘em again. Kind o’ like having a piece of my family back. Nay, let’s talk of it no more, now.” Maddie stopped in front of the largest room and unlocked the door. “Single room, Ma’am, Sir, or would you two like to share? There’s a hairy brute in number four who looked kinda lonely.” She forced a smile that never enlivened her face. No wonder the Inn seemed bleak. The spark was extinguished in poor, dear Maddie.
“Now, don’t forget to empty them chamber pots,” Bettina said, in a close imitation of Kerra. They both managed a smile and embraced.
Everett took the candle and closed the door. He set down the flickering light and pulled Bettina into his arms. They both smelled like fish and brine, since they hadn’t yet washed their clothes. Their garments shed, they cuddled under the blankets, holding tight to one another, naked flesh on flesh.
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