by Imogene Nix
The mulish set of Isabelle’s mouth told Elspeth her sister had set her mind to this.
Elspeth studied her sister’s earnest face. Everything she’d said was correct and correlated with her own thoughts. Their future prospects were bleak.
“I too...” She looked away, embarrassed. “I have felt that.” Discomfiture strangled her words, so they sounded strange even to her.
Isabelle rose and moved closer. Elspeth heard the swish of her sister’s skirts on the floor. Felt the touch of Isabelle’s hand on her shoulder.
“I do not wish to pass never knowing that pleasure, Elspeth.”
Her stomach curled at the uncertain tone she heard in her sister’s voice. Hot tears stung her eyes. Neither do I. She looked to the window, the sun shining brightly. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever did change. Unless she took this step, neither would she.
“You’re quite right. But how?” Elspeth turned her eyes to the masts on the horizon. Inhaling deeply, she released the fear that gripped her tight. “We’ll depart once Louisa and Jeremy return.”
The words were power-filled. Once said, the ball of panic which had welled in her breast melted away. The clasp of Isabelle’s fingers on her shoulder told her that she too felt the release.
Chapter 2
Three months later
The air surrounding the coach had cooled overnight, and Elspeth and Isabelle shivered as they trundled down to the port. Their boxes had been sent on ahead of them in the cart last night, and all they carried was a satchel each. Their lady’s maid sat opposite, her face drawn with worry.
“Miss, what if you get sick? Them heathens...”
Elspeth smiled bravely at Ellie. “That’s why we have you, dear Ellie. To look after us. We’ll travel on our own ship, and once in India, it will surely be easy to make enquiries and to find appropriate lodgings. After all, India is part of the empire. I have no doubt it’s civilized. We’ll stay for as long as it takes to conclude our business, then sail for Shanghai.”
“All them bloomin’ foreigners. Miss Elspeth, I won’t sleep a wink ’til we’s right and tight here at home.”
Elspeth smothered a laugh as she adjusted her shawl over her elbows. “This is an adventure, Ellie. Come, smile for us.” She herself was valiantly ignoring her own misgivings. What if they had taken on more than they could handle?
Isabelle patted Ellie’s hand. “There now, dear one. All shall be as Elspeth says. We shall be safe aboard our ship and the lodgings will, no doubt, be within the fort. When I spoke to Major Fortescue’s wife, she assured me that the situation is far from precarious. And Shanghai…”
The maid grumbled while Isabelle worked to charm the woman from her fearful mutterings.
Elspeth turned away from the other two, looking out the window over the green fields, letting the rocking of the carriage soothe her. She loved England, but this was likely her last opportunity to see other places. To experience adventure of the kind only men were allowed to enjoy.
The sound of the wheels rotating changed as they entered the small township, and she turned to face forward. She searched for the first sight of the masts of their clipper rising over the buildings. The Zephyr was a beauty of a ship. Built some twenty years before, with four tall masts and large, white sails. Her father had captained it on many long voyages during their childhood, to India and even the America’s.
She and Isabelle had traveled aboard on short trips to France before their mother’s death. Memories of the cramped accommodation married with feelings of well-being and excitement.
The hustle and hubbub from outside the carriage intruded on her thoughts, so she adjusted her bonnet, flicked at her skirts, and sat upright against the squabs. The teachings of her governess had sunk in well. The coach rattled to a stop at the gangway and their driver, John, hurried to open the door and put out the steps for them.
For an instant her surety faltered. She wavered.
“Elspeth?”
Her sister’s call insisted she concentrate, so Elspeth blinked back her fears and rose up before descending onto the cobbles.
The coachman, who helped her down and who had been with their family for as long as she remembered, held her hand for a moment longer. “Safe travels, Miss Elspeth.”
“Thank you, John. Now make sure you take the carriage home immediately. Miss Louisa and Mr. Jeremy will be needing it.”
With the familiarity of time, he touched his forelock before turning back to the door. Elspeth waited for Isabelle and Ellie to alight, then they moved together. Reticules and satchels in hand, they trooped up the gangway. The wood creaked and groaned beneath their steps, but within minutes they were onboard and her gaze scoured the deck.
Captain Elliott awaited them. He was a grizzled sailing man, spare-framed with a thick beard and faded blue eyes. His hair was hidden below his customary cap, but she knew from experience that it was messy. He was both a cautious commander and a well-respected leader.
“Miss Forster, Miss Isabelle. Welcome aboard. I’ve cleared the captain’s cabin for you both. I’ve also cleared Mr. Quartermaine’s cabin for your maid.”
Captain Elliott’s first mate, Quartermaine, huddled behind the captain, but he too smiled his welcome. She’d liked him from the first moment they’d met. He was quiet but gentle, and most importantly, he had the kind of innate knowledge shared by those who had generations of ocean-traveling within their family.
“When you are ready, I’ll show you the way. We’ve also laid in the victuals you’ve requested, Miss Forster.” Quartermaine bowed low.
She nodded, her bonnet scratching against her neck a little. “Excellent. Then perhaps you could escort us to our cabin?”
Elspeth cast her glance over the deck. As with all their ships, it was kept in immaculate condition when at port, but she was also aware that sometimes things became a little more lax when on long voyages. Three months at sea would certainly give her the opportunity to see how the ship handled the weather and how the men responded to each other. For now, she was satisfied with the clean wood decking and appropriately attired sailors.
Quartermaine bowed again, and the three women followed him.
* * * *
The wind screamed and the Zephyr bucked madly, fighting for its life. The thudding on their cabin door woke Elspeth from her fitful sleep. The first she’d had in days.
“Wake up, Miss Forster!” the captain’s voice called through the wood door.
She slid from the bed, making her way over the violently shuddering floor. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and cracked the door open. The captain looked harried.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Men scurried, their faces drawn, as she looked out into the corridor. The hanging lamps swayed from side the side, while Elspeth gripped the doorjamb.
“It’s worse than I thought. You and Miss Isabelle must up and dress. Be prepared for all eventualities.”
Those were words no passenger on a ship wished to hear. She stared at him. “Surely not?”
His grim visage answered her and did little to soothe her fears. “Please, you must prepare yourself.”
Fear washed over her. This was supposed to be her adventure, her chance to experience life. Is everything to end like this?
“I’ll rouse my sister.”
He nodded shortly. “If we need to prepare, I’ll send a man for you.” Then he was gone, moving up the corridor at a rapid pace, toward the opening.
Elspeth retreated within the cabin when a thundering crack sounded. The boat shuddered again, and she screamed, launching herself at Isabelle. “Isabelle, you must wake!” She gripped her sister’s shoulders and shook her.
“What?” Her sister roused. “What’s going on?”
Elspeth spied the clothes they had set out earlier, before a fitful doze. The wild weather obscured any view of the sky, making it impossible to discern day from night.
“We must hurry. Captain Elliott is concerned...” She broke off,
scared to say the words. “We must dress and prepare ourselves for the worst.”
Her sister stared, eyes wide, and Elspeth spun away.
“Where’s Ellie?” Isabelle yelled over the noise of the crashing thunder.
“In her cabin, but once we have dressed, we should go find her.”
Another violent toss of the waves came, throwing her to the floor with an oomph.
“Elspeth! Elspeth, are you hurt?”
A sound, almost a scream, pierced the gloom. Her heart raced like wild horses, but the screech stopped as suddenly as it began. The ship listed a little and she spared her sister a glance.
“What do you think that was?” Elspeth shook, wrenching on stockings, hoping to ignore the reality that the Zephyr could sink. With quick movements, Elspeth grabbed the corset. “Here, do me up quickly, and then I’ll sort you out.”
Her sister stared. “But Elspeth, you aren’t...”
“Hush, Isabelle. We must dress, and if that is over my night-rail, then so be it.”
Her sister gave a nod and tugged on the laces. Once satisfied, Elspeth encouraged Isabelle to tie them off, before she reached for Isabelle’s. Elspeth held tight and pulled. Finally satisfied, she hurried to struggle into her gown.
“Oh, Elspeth, I fear something has happened to Ellie. Otherwise, she’d be here with us.”
She too felt that in the pit of her stomach and nodded with a jerk. “Grab your life preserver and we’ll go check on her.”
Another thud and a scream echoed, and this time Isabelle clutched at her hand. “That sounded like...”
Her stomach cramped further. During the day the storm had grown in intensity, the seas violent and boiling beneath the prow of the ship, and her disquiet had grown. Now fear held her in its iron grip.
“Put your preserver on, Isabelle.” She struggled into hers, hearing the cries from the deck.
Suddenly, the boat righted once more, throwing them to the door. Elspeth gripped the knob and turned the metal hard. Together the two sisters fell into the corridor.
They groped their way to the first mate’s cabin and opened the door. Elspeth gasped, her eyes taking in the sight before her.
On the floor she saw a pair of feet, the rest of the body hidden by a large traveling trunk. Her trunk. She surged forward, but already knew.
“Ellie!” Isabelle screamed from the door.
Elspeth didn’t waste a moment, dropping to the floor to pull the trunk to the side. The cracked and faded leather creaked and groaned but wouldn’t move.
“We’re going to need help.” She looked around at Isabelle, trying to banish the memory of the hideous truth she’d spied in the cabin. Elspeth waited for a reaction from her white-faced sister.
“Ellie...”
“I think she’s dead, Isabelle.”
Her sister’s face crumpled as she began to cry.
“Come. We should go back to our cabin.” Elspeth rose unsteadily and lurched back toward her sister.
“But Ellie?”
“There’s nothing we can do. The men are working to save the ship. Once that is done, then we will seek their aid.”
It felt wrong to leave Ellie there, yet she had herself and her sister to consider first. Right now, Isabelle, the ship, and the crew were her priority. So she shut the door behind her and towed the sobbing woman in her arms back to their cabin.
Elspeth sat waiting, the cork vest chafing at her through the layers of the hastily donned gown for what felt like hours. She barely dared to move, as if her actions might be the last insult to the ship. Instead, she gripped Isabelle’s hand, and they huddled together, waiting for the call to abandon ship.
Elspeth listened to the thuds, creaks, and groans of the ailing vessel, fighting the fury of nature, every sound jolting her system like a blow. Gradually, the raging wind, rain, and lightning lessened—petered away—and she drowsed, upright in the bunk where she had her head resting against her sister’s shoulder.
The sound of footsteps woke her. She looked around to see that the glow of daylight shone through the tiny window. “Wake up, Isabelle!” She pushed at her sister.
Isabelle opened her eyes. “Do we have to...”
Elspeth shuddered. “Isabelle? I think we survived the night.”
A knock came at the door. “Miss Forster? Miss Isabelle?”
She slid off the bunk and made her way to the door, straightening her rumpled gown as best she could.
The captain, his face more grizzled and more tired than she’d ever seen before, waited on the other side. “We have survived. But...”
There was nothing to be gained from prodding the man who obviously was both tired and emotionally strained, so she waited.
“We lost two men last night, and one... He’ll not recover.”
For the first time she heard the faint sounds, which must have come from down below. They weren’t screams so much as groans of pain.
“Is there nothing we can do?” she asked.
Captain Elliott shook his head. “No.”
She breathed deeply. “Our maid, in the first mate’s cabin...she didn’t survive either.”
He nodded. “My men will attend to her then.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
He turned away and she drew back into the cabin, shutting the door.
* * * *
“Three months, two weeks, and six days.” Elspeth rose and walked slowly to the small window.
“I for one cannot wait to be back on land.” Isabelle was a mere ghost of herself, her voice faint and languid. Elspeth cast a glance at her sister Isabelle, who was resting on the bed.
“Yes. I too.”
The voyage had been more than trying, first with the storm and the loss of Ellie. Elspeth still couldn’t believe she was gone, crushed beneath the trunk that had worked itself free of the securing straps that were meant to hold the item in place.
They’d also lost crewmembers that night. One of the men had been struck by the mast as it snapped in the gale force winds. He’d been tossed overboard. Another had been caught in the riggings, and as fast as they had worked to cut them away, he had still perished. A third had taken spars from the mast in his midsection. With no physician aboard, his death had been slow and terrible. He’d cried and moaned until the silence descended. The memories of the white-shrouded bodies slipping over the side of the ship left her chilled.
Elspeth rubbed her arms, seeking warmth, though the weather now was humid.
In the last week Isabelle had fallen ill. Pale and listless, she coughed regularly, a dry and racking sound. Captain Elliott suggested making landfall in Bombay. Isabelle though had demurred, urging them to make for their destination with all speed, but food stocks were low. Elspeth kept a close eye on her sister, constantly evaluating the situation. She now agreed with Captain Elliott—Bombay was their best chance.
“Did you enjoy the Suez Canal, dearest? The land around is so different to England.”
They had passed out of the Red Sea a week or more ago. The trip was coming to an end. Soon they would make landfall in Bombay, replenish the ship’s stocks, then they would begin the final leg to Calcutta.
Isabelle nodded slowly. “Oh yes, that was so interesting. To see the gates working was such a marvel.” She brushed a pale lock from her forehead.
Elspeth noted the sheen of sweat on her skin. The temperature wasn’t so hot yet, so that surely wasn’t the reason for the dampness of Isabelle’s skin.
“I’m pleased we are almost there,” Isabelle said.
“Are you hot?” Elspeth was worried about her sister. Could she have caught the dreaded malaria that the captain and Quartermaine talked of?
“Not really. You should rest, Elspeth. You have been running after me for what feels like an age.”
Elspeth shook her gown, wishing she could remove her concerns as easily. “Isabelle, I can’t sit.” She made her way around the room again, setting everything to rights, then scooped up another gown, looking cri
tically for any tears or stains. “Soon we will be in Bombay, then we shall summon a physician.”
Isabelle turned away, and Elspeth felt a pang. They needed to get to Calcutta, but if Isabelle were truly sick with malaria, they couldn’t afford not to seek the assistance of a doctor. She bit her lip, worrying over the decisions she’d made. Responsibility weighed heavily.
Isabelle coughed again, her entire body shaking, and Elspeth felt a spurt of anguish. “I’m going to see the captain. I want to make sure he understands that on landfall your health is our first priority. I’m just thankful we’ll arrive in the next day or two.”
Her sister didn’t answer, didn’t so much as sigh. Heavy though it was, some of the tension in Isabelle’s body looked to have seeped away.
“Will you be fine if I go see the captain?”
“Go.”
The muffled word defeated Elspeth, and her shoulders slumped. She placed the gown down on the bed and pulled on light, lacy gloves before gripping the parasol and heading through the wooden doors. Once in the corridor she strode out onto the deck, thankful for the small coverage afforded her in the burning heat as she made her way to the bridge.
“Miss Forster! Glad to see you. I do hope your sister is feeling improved?”
Elspeth just shook her head, and Captain Elliott frowned.
“I see,” he said.
Quartermaine rounded the corner. “You’re just in time, Miss Forster. We should be sighting land anytime now.”
“So soon? I thought…” Her words trailed away as the captain grinned at her.
“We’ve made excellent time.”
Turning and looking in the direction the captain pointed to, Elspeth spotted a flat horizon. There wasn’t yet much to see, but even as she squinted a cry came from the crow’s nest above.
“Land ho!”
Excitement sparked inside her, and she leaned closer to the railing, straining. She noted a shimmer on the surface of the ocean, and the longer she stared the more detail became obvious. Now sails dotted the horizon.
The captain pulled the scope out, the snap loud in the sudden silence, and gazed forward.