Bret’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I’ll keep my bachelorhood, thank you. Seems to me that taking care of a family is a lot of work. I already work plenty hard at the shipyard.”
Earl scoffed. “All of us at the yard put in our share of hard work. But coming home to a clean house, the smell of dinner cooking, and hugs and kisses from my wife and the children makes it all worth it.”
Bret rolled his eyes. “Bully for you, Earl. But I believe a man should keep his freedom intact as long as he possibly can. Right now, I answer to nobody, I come and go as I please. I’m not interested in being saddled with all that responsibility.”
Will listened to his friends going back and forth, but said nothing. He thought of Bret’s assertions of freedom and not answering to anyone. Bret seemed to enjoy his single status. For Will, however, the so-called ‘freedom’ of bachelorhood only meant spending many cold nights in a big, empty bed. The memories of the only woman he’d ever loved hung over him like a specter, making sleep hard to come by. Responsibility aside, he imagined he would thoroughly enjoy sleeping next to the soft curves of a woman’s body; waking up to her beautiful smile and the scent of her perfume clinging to his skin and his bedclothes. To his mind, that role could only be filled properly by Rosaline. His heart and mind were so set on her that no other woman would do.
A uniformed attendant came around, to gather the Goodman’s crystal dishes. Will and Bret handed over their empty plates and punch glasses.
As the attendant drifted away with the stack of dishes, Bret stood. “You’re mighty quiet, Will. What’s your take?”
Will shrugged. “I say it’s all about the right woman. If you’ve got the right woman, marriage can be the best thing that ever happened to you; with the wrong one, you’re better off staying single.”
Earl agreed, nodding his head as he navigated the vessel around a sharp bend in the river. “Hazel is the light of my life.”
Bret snickered, shaking his head as he strode away.
Will got to his feet and went to stand by the railing. The afternoon was slowly giving way to evening as the sun descended toward the horizon behind them. The ship sailed smoothly for now, moving along the river at a pace that minimized the rocking and swaying. That pleased him since it meant Earl was following his advice about keeping tight control over the speed of the vessel.
Among the few people standing about the deck, a commotion rose. Will turned to his right, trying to ascertain the source of the excitement.
Mrs. Goodman was strolling through, on the arm of a man. But this man wasn’t Mr. Goodman; the fellow was far too young, and far leaner and taller.
Will opened his ears to the chatter on the deck, picking up snippets of conversations swirling around him.
“He’s studying law, you know.”
“My, isn’t he handsome?”
“He’ll make some lucky girl a fine husband.”
Soon enough, Mrs. Goodman and her young escort reached the end of the deck where Will stood, observing. As the pair drew closer, Will took notice of the young man’s dress, which was a bit formal for a summer day’s cruise down the Cape Fear: a full suit, complete with coat and tie, as well as a pair of well shined black boots. Will guessed the boy must be broiling in the Carolina sun, but if he chose fashion over comfort, that was his burden to bear.
Mrs. Goodman gestured to him as they approached. “Will, I’d love you to meet my nephew, Cornell. He’s my in-laws oldest son, from Columbia. He’s here in North Carolina with us for the summer, but he’s studying law at Benedict College. Cornell, meet William Pruett. He and his men built the Hope’s Lantern.”
The young man stuck out his hand to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pruett.”
Will returned the gesture, noting the young man’s firm grip and the air of confidence around him. “Likewise, but call me Will.”
Cornell nodded. “Certainly. And may I complement you on your work. The Hope’s Lantern is a very fine vessel.”
“Thank you, young man.” Will offered a slight smile to Cornell, while wondering if a pampered boy from a rich family of free-born blacks possessed enough knowledge of ships to make such a judgment. He decided to keep that question to himself.
Mrs. Goodman piped up. “Will, I’m going to take Cornell to meet Rosaline. She’s a good girl, and she’s been without a husband far too long in my opinion.”
Cornell added, “My aunt seems to think the two of us may suit.”
Will kept his face impassive, inclined his head a bit. Something stirred inside of him, an altogether unpleasant sensation. He hesitated to call it jealousy; after all, he had no claims on the beautiful lady baker. Regardless of that, he didn’t like that Mrs. Goodman seemed intent on pushing her nephew on Rosaline.
For a long moment, Will and Cornell held each other’s’ gazes. He hoped to communicate with the other man, in a way he’d understand, without tipping off his meddling aunt. So he spoke with his eyes, letting his expression tell the young man he’d better set his sights elsewhere. In the silence, he could see the arrogance and the defiance rising in the young man’s eyes.
Cornell finally spoke. “Excuse us, Will. My aunt speaks so highly of this Rosaline, I’m rather anxious to meet her.”
Will gave a silent nod of acknowledgment as the two of them strolled away, likely in search of the woman he wanted to claim for his own. Cornell had, without words, issued a challenge to him.
Will stood tall, straightened his tie. He wouldn’t be put off of courting Rosaline by anyone, least of all this fancy boy who had only recently come out of diapers.
Jaw set, he watched the backs of Mrs. Goodman and her overconfident nephew for a moment. Then he strode away, in the other direction.
~~~
Standing atop the overturned crate again, Rosaline used her steel serving knife to carefully divide the top tier of her cinnamon spice cake into uniform slices. As each slice was made, she lifted it and set it on one of the Goodmans’ crystal dessert plates, held up for her by her young assistant.
Sarah had just set a plate down on the table when her eyes widened. “My, who is that handsome young man with Mrs. Goodman?”
Now working on the second tier, Rosaline didn’t bother to look. “I don’t know, Sarah, and I’m not terribly concerned either way. Pass me another plate, please.”
Sarah made no move to reach for the plate, instead choosing to stare across the room. “Well, they’re coming this way, Miss Rosaline.”
She heaved a sigh and set the knife down on the empty platter that had supported the top layer. Turning her head in the direction Sarah indicated, she saw Mrs. Goodman weaving her way through the assemblage. As boisterous and outspoken as they came, Marian Goodman was easy to pick out of a crowd. Still, Rosaline didn’t recognize the tall, slender, and admittedly handsome fellow Mrs. Goodman practically dragged in her direction.
She stepped down off the crate and stood next to her starry-eyed assistant, just as Mrs. Goodman and her companion came abreast of them.
“See? She’s as fastidious as she is lovely.” Mrs. Goodman ribbed the man standing next to her, a conciliatory smile spreading across her golden face.
Rosaline felt her eyebrow hitch. Why in the world was Mrs. Goodman speaking about her to the man, as if she wasn’t present? What in the world is she about?
Mrs. Goodman spoke again, loud enough to be heard by anyone standing nearby. “Rosaline, dear, this is my nephew, Cornell. He’s soon to be a lawyer and I’ve been just dying to introduce you two.”
She sighed inwardly as she stuck her hand out to him. Now she understood the motivation behind the so-called ‘advice’ Marian had dispensed earlier. She sensed Mrs. Goodman’s meddling, and while she assumed the woman’s intentions were good, she didn’t want to encourage it. Cornell appeared to be much younger than her, and she sensed a haughty, almost condescending air about him. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Goodman.”
He offered a blinding smile as he captured her hand in his ow
n. “Now, my dear. There’s no need to be so formal. Please, call me Cornell.”
It amused her somewhat that a boy this young would call her such an endearment. She wanted to chuckle since she could almost detect a hint of his mother’s milk on his breath. She made eye contact with him, in an attempt at being polite. The moment their eyes connected, she regretted it. She could not recall the last time she’d felt so uncomfortable with someone she’d just met. She watched him raise her hand to his lips and kiss the back of it. When his lips made contact with her skin she fought the urge to jerk away; the boy’s regard made her skin crawl. There was something in his eyes; something arrogant and sinister that made a shiver run down her spine.
Mrs. Goodman, totally oblivious to that discomfort, clapped her hands together and squealed with delight. “Look at you two. You’re so well suited. Of course, I knew you would be, and I’ve never been wrong about these things yet!”
Rosaline closed her eyes briefly as she eased her hand out of Cornell’s grasp. While Mrs. Goodman claimed to be infallible as a matchmaker, she’d failed at this attempt, and miserably so. She made a move to get back on the crate, thinking she’d finish slicing the cake.
Determined not to be put off, Mrs. Goodman said, “Come now, Rosaline. Surely you can let Sarah tend to the cake so you can spend a few moments getting to know Cornell. I’m sure she can handle it, can’t you dear?”
Still staring up at Cornell, Sarah managed an affirmative bob of her head.
Cornell turned to Rosaline, staying her ascent onto the crate by stepping between her and the crate. “Aunt is correct. I’m sure you assistant is very capable, and I’m eager to learn more about you, my dear.”
A small squeal escaped Sarah’s lips; Rosaline supposed her young assistant couldn’t contain her excitement at having Cornell refer to her as ‘capable.’
Rosaline rolled her eyes before she could stop herself, but acquiesced to their rather insistent demands. Mrs. Goodman was a wealthy woman, and she needed the business a sterling review from the Goodman family would generate. Reluctantly, she linked her arm with Cornell.
Sarah grinned, apparently having recovered her ability to speak after being so dazzled by the golden boy of the house of Goodman. “Don’t worry, Miss Rosaline. I’ll keep the slices even, just like you taught me.”
Rosaline groaned inwardly. She would have gladly passed Cornell on to Sarah, after all they seemed to be much closer in age. “Thank you, Sarah.”
Rosaline let herself be led away from the cake table and through the tangle of folks standing about the parlor. There were men in fresh shirts and pressed trousers, and women clad in their best summer-weight dresses in soft shades of pinks, yellows, and greens. A few little ones were also on board, running and giggling as they frolicked and played around the legs of the adults. They all seemed to be enjoying their punch and their conversations, and Rosaline envied them. The gears of her mind were turning full tilt, trying to figure out a way to make this “getting to know you” session with Cornell go by as quickly as possible. This was the second time today she’d been approached about courting, and frankly, flattery had now morphed into frustration.
They moved out onto the deck, toward the bow of the ship. Nightfall was coming on, and though she hadn’t a clue where they were, she knew they would reach Wilmington before long. She knew from her conversations with Will in the weeks leading up to the cruise that the voyage took about fourteen hours from beginning to end.
Cornell led her past folks standing by the railing, past the first mate steering the ship until they came to a narrow stairwell descending to the lower deck. Up until that moment, she hadn’t even known the stairwell existed. She’d been so busy with the cake she’d not had time to explore the ship. Her nerves got the better of her, because she had no idea why he should be leading her below deck, toward some unknown part of the vessel. At the top of the stairs, she hesitated.
“So, where does this lead?” She posed the question both to find out where he was taking her and to stall for time. No one was nearby on this part of the deck, save for the captain, who was busy with navigating the vessel down the river.
Cornell, who was already two steps below her, smiled and patted her hand. “Oh, this is the private family quarters that my aunt and uncle had included in the ship’s plans. It’s the best place for us to have a bit of privacy, my dear.”
She wanted to groan but stifled it, lest he take that as some sort of invitation. The boy was obviously terrible at reading her body language, or else he’d never have insisted she go anywhere with him in the first place. She had no interest in him, and the last thing she wanted was privacy. “I wouldn’t want to infringe on your family’s private rooms, Cornell.”
“Nonsense. You’re an invited guest.” In the next beat, he was pulling her down the stairs.
She moved her feet, lest she topple over and be dragged.
Just before her head disappeared beneath the deck floor, she cast a glance toward the first mate at the helm, hoping he would see her and notify someone of her predicament.
Her eyes met Earl’s briefly, and he gave her an imperceptible nod.
That gave her a modicum of relief. She held her nerves in check because she knew that if Cornell proved to be a bounder, she would make sure he regretted the decision to disrespect her.
Her heart pounding, she followed Cornell into the underbelly of the ship.
~~~
Will scratched his chin as he scanned the deck once more for any sign of Rosaline. He’d been seeking her in every public corner of the ship for several minutes now, and not finding her anywhere. Something about her absence worried him. Even though the cake had already been served and she was no longer on duty, it seemed odd to him that she’d disappeared.
He spotted Bret, who was gesturing to him from near the ship’s wheel. Taking long strides, he went over to see what his friend wanted.
Bret launched into a speech as soon as he drew near. “Will, you’d best check down below for Rosaline.”
Will, familiar with every nook and cranny of the vessel, knew that the hull of the ship was home to storage areas and the private quarters Mrs. Goodman had requested for the ship. “Why would she be down there?”
“I don’t know, but Earl saw her going down there just a while ago, with that Cornell Goodman.”
Will stared at his friend wide-eyed, looking for confirmation of what he’d just heard. Would that boy really be bold enough to shanghai Rosaline, with all the people present on this ship? Did he have so little concern for propriety, and for her reputation?
Earl’s grim expression confirmed it. “She didn’t look none too happy about being taken down there, neither. I think she was trying to signal me, but I couldn’t leave my post at the wheel.”
Will felt his jaw tighten, and he curled his hands into fists at his sides. “So the fancy boy has taken her down below, eh? I think I’ll just look in on them.”
“Do you want me to come along? Earl’s steering the ship the rest of the way.” Bret gestured with a jerk of his head toward the first mate, still working the wheel.
Will shook his head, already moving toward the hidden staircase. “No. I’ll handle this, but I’ll holler up if I need you, so stay close.”
Bret lifted his chin to signal his understanding.
Will rolled up his shirt sleeves, and made a slow descent of the stairs.
As he moved below deck, the din of the conversations above faded, replaced by the sounds of people’s footsteps as they moved about above him. He could hear the hum of the engine and the water being sloshed by the paddle wheel as he stepped off the bottom rung and moved down the narrow corridor leading to the quarters.
He passed the room set aside for storage first, then the path took a slight bend to the right. The door to the Goodmans’ quarters was closed, but as he moved nearer to it, he could hear voices. One voice was female, and he knew it belonged to Rosaline. The other, more masculine voice, he assumed to be Cornell.<
br />
He pressed his ear against the door to listen to their conversation.
Cornell asked, “Why are you so shy, my darling?”
Rosaline replied, “I’m not shy, just not interested, as I’ve told you before.”
“Surely you can see the benefits of being with a man like me. I’m well off, educated, and can provide you with an easy life if you’ll let me.”
Silence.
Cornell said, “Ah, there is someone else, then. I see it in your eyes. Who is it? Who holds your heart?”
Will’s ears perked up as he waited for her response to that very direct question.
Finally, she announced it. “My heart lies with William Pruett, the man who built this ship. Not that it’s any of your concern.”
Upon hearing that, Will felt his own heart turn a somersault in his chest. A smile spread across his face, but quickly faded when he heard Cornell’s next words.
Cornell’s tone turned dry and bitter. “Oh, so it’s the shipbuilder? You would truly choose a man like that over me, when I can give you so much more?”
She sounded offended. “What do you mean, a man like that?”
“He was a slave, wasn’t he?”
“So was I! And what has that to do with anything?”
Now Cornell went silent.
Leaning against the door, Will wanted dearly to burst in and slug the fellow right in his uppity mouth. A still, small voice inside told him to wait, so he did.
Rosaline said, “One would think you’d be happy I’m sticking to my own ilk, instead of sullying your good name by marrying you.”
Cornell seemed to grow even more irate. “You should only be so lucky as to marry me, and raise your social station. I’m offering you the only chance you’ll ever get!”
“Have you ever considered that I don’t want what you’re offering? Or that he can give me what I truly need?”
“Is that so? And what’s so wonderful about your William, anyhow?”
At that moment, Will’s decision was made. He grasped the handle of the oak door, the one he’d carved by hand only a few weeks before. With a gentle nudge, he pushed the door open.
The Brightest Day: A Juneteenth Historical Romance Anthology Page 13