by S. G. Rogers
The only moment of the evening she did not reflect upon with satisfaction was the wounded expression on Wesley’s face when he saw her dancing with Stephen. A spray of briny seawater couldn’t have dampened her ebullient mood more effectively. Neither was she pleased to notice the previously congenial relationship between Stephen and Wesley turn cool. Even as the two men had accompanied her and Louise to their cabins, they’d exchanged subtle barbs the entire time. What on Earth could’ve turned them against one another? She was engaged, after all, and could scarcely be expected to form an attachment to either of them.
Confused and discomfited, Belle turned over in bed yet again. Errol had discouraged her from traveling to America, and perhaps it had been a mistake to leave his side. She considered all the reasons she’d fallen in love with him. Her eyes flew open in a moment of panic; she was in love with him, wasn’t she? Yes, yes, of course she was…she adored his handsome face, noble brow, and melodious voice when he read to her from Fordyce’s Sermons. Errol had such a romantic, long-suffering air, and she’d fallen for him almost immediately. In fact, he’d taken the ladies of Mansbury by storm when he arrived in town. Many of Belle’s friends had sighed when the dashing Sir Errol strolled by in church, and gazed at him with longing when he rode past in a smart gig pulled by his high-stepping mare, Isolde. Maureen Crane, the mayor’s daughter, had set her sights on him right away, but her hopes withered when Errol had quickly singled Belle out as the object of his affection. A week from now, when they were together again, all her doubts would be laid to rest. Far away from idle flirtations with a good-looking Philadelphia heir, and the amiable company of a certain handsome American duke, she would plan her wedding—and a glorious wedding it would be! Thus persuaded, Belle allowed the ship to rock her to sleep.
Dawn broke over the clear North Atlantic skies with an inspired beauty that would stir the imagination of even the most hard-hearted curmudgeon. Wesley, far from being curmudgeonly, emerged from his cabin and was immediately drawn to the railing by the view of the distant Nova Scotia shoreline. A myriad of fishing vessels dotted the coastal waters, and a pod of humpback whales cavorted in the glassy waters not too far from the steamship. One of the enormous creatures breached the surface and displayed its belly, as if to invite Wesley’s admiration. Mr. Finnegan came to stand by Wesley’s side.
“A prettier view is not to be had, Your Grace,” the steward said. “I never tire of it.”
“Good morning, Mr. Finnegan. It’s a magnificent day.”
“That it is.”
“Has Lady Frederic arisen, do you know?”
“Aye. In fact, she just went down to breakfast.”
Wesley’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? She must be feeling better.”
“Yes, sir. By the way, your request to use the steerage exercise deck has been granted. It’s being set up for you as we speak.”
“Thank you. Please tell the captain I’m terribly grateful.”
As Wesley strode along the deserted promenade deck, he felt so ebullient that he couldn’t help practicing his newly learned waltz steps. Cavendish had worked with him for two hours last night. Bless his soul! When Wesley came around full circle, with an invisible sylph in his arms, he suddenly realized a well-dressed, elderly couple had paused to watch. Red-faced, Wesley stopped and dropped his arms to his sides.
“Sorry. I was just, you know, carried away there for a moment,” he mumbled. “Morning exercise, sea air, and all that.”
The gentleman exchanged an amused glance with his wife. “Don’t let us stop you, lad. We were once young too.”
Chapter Twelve
Choppy Seas
PASSENGERS WERE BEGINNING TO TRICKLE into the saloon when Wesley arrived at breakfast. Lady Frederic was sitting alone at one of the smaller tables, reading a copy of the ship’s newspaper, City of New York Gazette. He slid into a chair across from her.
“Morning, Mother. How are you feeling today?”
“Well enough to eat a little toast, thank you.” She tapped the paper. “You’re the subject of curiosity.”
“What do you mean?”
Lady Frederic read the story aloud. “‘A certain saloon passenger, whose story bears a passing resemblance to that of Little Lord Fauntleroy, has excited much conversation regarding his romantic fancy. Which shipboard maiden will he favor? City of New York scuttlebutt says it’s too soon to tell’.”
Wesley made a sound of disgust. “Who would want to read that tripe?”
“Don’t be so stodgy! There’s little else to do on these voyages besides gossip. It helps distract people from seasickness and boredom.”
“You say that now, but wait until you’re the subject of a silly story.”
His mother giggled. “I’ll be rather disappointed if I’m not.”
“Well, I’m happy to report I’ve something better to do than gossip. My friends and I have formed a dance club. We’re to practice in the afternoons.”
Lady Frederic regarded her son with admiration. “That’s very enterprising, Wesley.”
“It’s Miss Oakhurst’s idea, really.”
“She’s a clever girl.”
“Mr. Oakhurst was seasick yesterday too. Have you seen him or Miss Oakhurst this morning?” Wesley asked.
“I haven’t, I’m afraid,” she murmured, her attention wholly on her newspaper. “Perhaps we’ll see them at the church service later on.”
Wesley ordered orange juice, bacon, fruit, and oatmeal from a waiter. A few minutes later, Louise entered the saloon. Wesley waved, and she hastened over with a broad smile on her pretty face. He rose as she approached.
“Good morning, Miss Van Eyck. Have breakfast with us, if you like,” Wesley said.
“Oh, yes, thank you. I was afraid I’d have to eat alone,” she replied. “I think my mother and brother must still be sleeping.”
“Mother, this is Miss Van Eyck,” Wesley said. “Miss Van Eyck, allow me to introduce you to my mother, Lady Frederic.”
Louise dipped into a curtsy. “I’m ever so delighted to meet you.”
“Thank you, Miss Van Eyck,” Lady Frederic replied.
Louise sank into a chair, and Wesley took his seat once more.
“Lady Frederic, did Wesley happen to mention our dance club?” Louise asked.
“He did indeed, and I think it’s an excellent notion.”
“We’ve received permission to use the steerage deck and a piano,” Wesley said. “And my valet has agreed to play for us.”
Lady Frederic stared at him, wide-eyed. “Cavendish plays the piano too? The man continues to amaze me.”
The waiter brought Wesley’s orange juice, and while Louise ordered a breakfast of pancakes and sausage, an idea began to form in Wesley’s mind. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to surprise Belle with his newfound dance skills? I daresay I want her to be impressed…more so than she was with Stephen Van Eyck.
The waiter left with a promise to bring their food as swiftly as possible.
“Miss Van Eyck, my experience in the waltz is minimal at best,” Wesley said. “If our dance club meets at two thirty, do you suppose you could arrive a half-hour early to practice with me? That way I wouldn’t feel so much the oaf when others are watching.”
“I’d like nothing better.”
A relieved smile lit Wesley’s face. “Good. Cavendish will be there to accompany us. I hope I won’t tread on your toes.”
“You could scarcely be worse than poor Mr. Stenger was last night. He’d never waltzed before, and all of us felt quite sorry for him.”
Wesley kept his countenance but inside he grimaced. Please let me be better than Carl Stenger! The last thing I want is Belle’s pity.
Lady Frederic folded her newspaper and left it on the table. “If you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to get a little fresh air before church. It’s glorious weather out.”
Wesley stood as his mother departed. Louise quickly pulled the Gazette toward her and began to read it avidly.
“Oh no, not you too!” Wes
ley exclaimed.
“Oh come now,” Louise said. “Aren’t you the least bit curious what’s in it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Belle donned a demure, high-collar dress suitable for church. The fabric had a dark green background with a lush, pretty pattern of ripe peaches. The sleeves were gathered into puffs at the top, but gave way to feminine apricot lace from the elbow to the wrist. A double row of matching lace around the hem gave the plain skirt movement when she walked. The gown was one of Errol’s favorites.
After she left her cabin, she went to her father’s cabin. Mr. Oakhurst answered her knock at his door, already dressed and looking far more energetic than he had the previous evening.
“Good morning, Papa! Do you feel like eating a little breakfast?”
“Tea and crumpets would not go amiss.”
As they entered the saloon, Mr. Oakhurst paused to admire the arched, stained glass ceiling. Daylight illuminated the colors of the glass beautifully.
“My heavens but that ceiling is incredible!” he exclaimed.
Belle smiled. “Indeed it is. And at night, it’s lit by hundreds of incandescent lights from within, like starlight.”
As she glanced around the room, Belle spotted Wesley in a booth with Louise. The two sat practically shoulder to shoulder, pouring over a newspaper together. A pang of jealousy made Belle nearly bite her tongue. It’s none of your business, Belle, and you’ve no right to be jealous! She averted her eyes and steered her father toward the opposite side of the saloon, choosing an unoccupied alcove table where her father could look out the porthole window. You should have joined Wesley and Louise. You’re being silly. As her father glanced over the menu, Belle leaned over slightly until she had a view of Wesley’s table. Immediately she wished she hadn’t. He was laughing at something Louise had said, and they appeared to be terribly cozy.
Stephen Van Eyck and Mrs. Van Eyck entered the saloon just then. When he saw Belle, Stephen took his mother by the elbow and steered her over.
“What a stroke of luck! Good morning, Miss Oakhurst,” Stephen said. “Do you mind if my mother and I join you?”
Belle hoped the dismay she felt regarding the arrival of Mrs. Van Eyck was not reflected on her countenance. “That would be delightful,” she managed.
Mr. Oakhurst stood as Belle introduced Mrs. Van Eyck and Stephen to him. Mrs. Van Eyck seemed none too steady as she lowered herself into a chair.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Van Eyck?” Belle asked.
“I’m not yet recovered from the rough seas of yesterday,” she replied. “And the ship’s bell rang every half hour to keep me awake. Perhaps a deck cabin was not such a good idea after all.”
Mrs. Van Eyck and Mr. Oakhurst began to converse about seasickness and its various remedies. Belle couldn’t help but notice Stephen looked quite handsome in his high collar and red Ascot tie. He caught her staring, and she quickly lowered her gaze to the floral arrangement in the center of the table.
“I believe my sister must be here,” he said. “Did you happen to see her?”
“No,” Belle lied. “But then, my father and I only just arrived.”
As the meal progressed, Belle became increasingly apprehensive. She pretended to attend to Stephen’s stories about Philadelphia life, but her attention was actually focused on Mrs. Van Eyck. Please don’t let her broach the subject of my grandfather, especially in front of Papa!
Mrs. Van Eyck ate sparingly, and at last she excused herself to return to her cabin. At the same time, Mr. Oakhurst also left to take a walk on the promenade deck. With the danger of exposure past, Belle felt her shoulders relax. She stopped twisting the napkin in her lap and let her hands rest on the table instead.
“Miss Oakhurst, please allow me to tell you how pretty you look this morning,” Stephen said.
“Oh…thank you.”
Without warning, he covered her hand with his. Before she could react, he’d gripped it so firmly she could not pull away without creating a scene.
“We’ve only just met, but I’m quite taken with you,” he said. “After last night, I’ve begun to hope you feel the same way.”
“Mr. Van Eyck, I implore you to release me this instant!”
Too late, Belle saw Louise and Wesley approach. Louise’s expression was one of delight to see Stephen holding Belle’s hand, but Wesley’s eyes were narrowed with displeasure. Belle’s face flamed hot.
“I hope we’re not interrupting.” Ice caressed Wesley’s every syllable.
Stephen loosened his grip, and Belle’s hand quickly returned to her lap.
“In point of fact—” Stephen began.
Belle cut him off. “Not at all. Please join us. Um…have you had breakfast?”
“We just finished,” Louise said.
She slid into a chair, but Wesley remained standing.
“We were waiting for you for the longest time, Annabelle,” Louise continued. “Finally, I looked across the room and there you were!”
“My father and your mother just left,” Belle said. “We breakfasted with them.”
“I didn’t see you here, Louise,” Stephen said. “I thought perhaps you’d fallen overboard.” He gave Belle a little wink.
Louise wrinkled her nose in response. “I’d never give you the satisfaction of being an only child.”
“Wesley, would you care to sit?” Belle’s smile was tentative, but her silent plea for understanding was rebuffed.
“Thank you, no. It’s grown rather stuffy in here,” he replied. “I’m going for a stroll before church.”
He turned on his heel and strode from the room. Belle’s heart hammered in her ears, and she stifled the impulse to run after him. Louise prattled on about arrangements for the dance club. When Carl, Eva, Stacy, and Horatio entered the saloon with Mrs. Stenger, Belle seized on an excuse to leave.
“The Stengers and Egermanns are here,” she said. “Could you let them know the time and place of our dance club meeting? I must speak to my father about something, but I’ll see you at the church service later on.”
Belle left the saloon and mounted the stairs to the promenade deck. Although she didn’t see Wesley, she noticed Mrs. Van Eyck sitting in a deck chair several yards off. She was draped in a blanket and seemed to be dozing. Belle moved past as quietly as possible, but Mrs. Van Eyck opened her eyes at that exact moment.
“Oh, Miss Oakhurst, why don’t we have our chat now? I’d love to hear all about your grandfather, the baronet.”
His annoyance was such that Wesley paced the promenade deck walking track without taking in the view. So Stephen Van Eyck had wormed his way into Belle’s favor with his slick Philadelphia manners? Couldn’t she see he was an insincere dandy? Wesley’s pride was further wounded by the fact she’d allowed Stephen to hold her hand. This, after Belle had taken him to task for the very same thing! Belle Oakhurst was engaged, for Heaven’s sake, and even Wesley knew Stephen’s behavior was inappropriate. Evidently the girl’s judgment was flawed and her character was not as stellar as she’d let on. It was fortunate he’d discovered the truth before he’d grown too attached. Stephen had done him a good turn, really. He ought to feel relieved…but he wasn’t.
Hoping to confide his woes to Cavendish, Wesley returned to the cabin. The sitting room was empty, however, since his valet had gone to breakfast. Wesley slumped in a chair, wondering how he should best manage the remainder of the voyage. Only one course seemed clear; he should keep his distance from Belle as much as possible. Sadly, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean that will be easier said than done.
Anyone not stricken with seasickness crowded the saloon for Sunday service, including the staff. Belle and her father had arrived early to find an alcove seat. Wesley and Lady Frederic arrived shortly thereafter. Although Wesley could not have failed to see Belle wave to him, he escorted his mother between the long tables and sat up front. The snub was so obvious, even Mr. Oakhurst noticed.
“You and Wesley haven’t quarrel
ed, have you?” he asked.
“We’ve had a small misunderstanding,” Belle admitted. “But I mean to rectify matters as soon as may be.”
“See that you do, Annabelle,” he replied, aghast. “We owe most of our livelihood to him and can’t afford to give offense. Should he discharge me for any reason whatsoever, it will be a black mark on my record.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Oakhurst’s tone was not sharp, but his words cut Belle to the quick. For her to be the means of injuring her father was intolerable. She resolved to put Stephen Van Eyck in his place and make amends to Wesley. However much she admired Wesley, or enjoyed his company, their relationship was fraught with peril. For her, the Duke of Mansbury must be merely a friendly acquaintance and no more.
“Monsieur Caron is exceedingly generous to permit you time away from teaching,” Mr. Oakhurst said.
“Er…yes, Papa.”
“I’m grateful you have steady employment with him. I know it isn’t fashionable for women to work, but should anything jeopardize your engagement with Sir Errol or my income, you’ll be able to support yourself.”
Belle was taken aback. “Nothing will jeopardize either, Papa. The misunderstanding with Wesley will pass, and when I return to Mansbury I’ll plan my wedding. I’ll be married before Christmas, come what may, so please let your mind be at ease.”
Carl, Eva, Stacy, Horatio, and Mrs. Stenger joined Belle and her father at their table. A few minutes later, Stephen and Louise arrived as well. Belle ignored Stephen’s impassioned glances as best she could.
“Mama is outside, snoring in her deck chair,” Louise whispered. “She had such a bad night, I thought it best not to disturb her.”
“She’s still a bit peaked, so I daresay the fresh air may do her good,” Belle replied.
Her conversation with Mrs. Van Eyck earlier had, unfortunately, resulted in a repetition of the fabrication regarding her grandfather. I should have just confessed the truth, but if my friends discover I lied to them, they’ll shun me. Papa will notice, and ask me why…and then I’ll be completely undone. I’m cornered!