by Chloe Carley
“You are not alone, dear Rachel. You have countless people assisting you in your preparations and a chaperone has been arranged for the voyage itself. Your father said as much in his last letter,” Emily remarked. “The ship’s crew might prove to be somewhat uncouth, being sailors without the pride of a uniform, but your father would not associate you with unsavory company. I am certain he will have put every possible safeguard in place to keep you secure.”
“That is not what I mean, Emily.” Rachel took one last look at her reflection, pinching a flush of rose into her cheeks. Sleepless circles of dark purple lingered beneath her brown eyes, but there was little she could do about those. In truth, she doubted she would sleep well ever again.
Reluctantly, she rose and smoothed down the front of her ruby-hued gown. The vanity would have to be packed away and shipped over with the rest of her things, but she had insisted it be kept out until she was quite ready to depart. The journey to Liverpool would take several days and she did not feel she ought to rush for anyone. They did not seem to realize that she was being forced to abandon her home and everything she knew for the sake of her father. She adored him with all her heart, but she did not understand why she had to be the one to uproot. She was not the one who had disappeared off to foreign climes shouting about progress and opportunity. Now, there was a war to deal with. It hardly seemed like the time to be arriving in America and yet he had insisted. Being her father, she could not disagree.
“It is your anxiety speaking, making you feel a sudden detachment from reality,” Emily mused. “You are sailing toward an unknown horizon. It is natural that you should find yourself in a state of turmoil. However, you must not allow it to reign victorious over your mind.”
“Perhaps I am nervous and perhaps it is only in my mind, but there is nothing I can do to remedy that. I cannot simply clap my hands and have it resolved,” she shot back miserably. “If it were you who was being made to leave everything behind, you would feel just as I do.”
“It cannot be easy,” Emily conceded.
“It is not, you may believe that.” Rachel wandered over to the window and looked out on the public gardens opposite. All her life, she had lived in this house. All her life, she had glanced out of the window and looked upon that same scene, come rain, snow, or shine. This house held the memory of those she had loved and lost. When she left, she knew she would have to leave behind their ghosts as well.
For, aside from her father, Rachel had no-one else in the world to call family. Her mother had died when Rachel was but three years old giving birth to her brother, George. The memories she had of her mother were sparse but precious and all had taken place within these walls. She feared she might lose them if she strayed too far from the halls and rooms where they had originated.
Meanwhile, her brother had disappeared without a trace several years ago. There had been some trouble after a public brawl which had seen another man killed. George had been suspected of landing the blow which had killed the man. Unwilling to risk imprisonment or worse, he had vanished from the face of the Earth. There had been no word from him ever since to the point where Rachel and her father no longer knew if he was even living. Not a soul had heard a whisper of his whereabouts and he seemed content to keep it that way.
And so, Rachel had ended up more-or-less alone in the Bath townhouse she adored. She had not seen her father for five years after he had departed for America in search of further wealth. They had written when possible, but there had often been months in between each one. Prior to his suggestion that she travel to be with him, she had hoped some suitable gentleman might make an offer of marriage to her. With a husband, she knew she would have some security. A few had shown interest, but their enthusiasm had waned after discovering that her family were not as wealthy as they seemed. It was part of the reason her father had gone to America in the first place, to speculate in new business ventures and accumulate a greater fortune. Much of their own wealth had been lost by Rachel’s grandfather, and they had been scrabbling to recover their former glory ever since.
“Come now, this is all for the best,” Emily urged.
“Is it?”
“Of course, it is, my dear,” Emily rose to stand beside her friend. “You will have your father and a whole country filled with opportunity at your disposal. This tedious war will soon be over and you shall be all the better for it. What else can you do? You cannot stay here, all alone.”
Rachel pulled a face. “Why-ever not?”
“If something were to happen to your father out there, your fate would be… uncertain,” she explained carefully. “With your brother gone, there might be all sorts of trouble with the inheritance. At least in America, you would be safe in the knowledge that everything he has accumulated would be yours. That, in itself, seems like an impossibility to me, being here. You must understand, there is a freedom there that we do not possess.”
“There is more to a daughter’s love than seeking an inheritance, Emily,” Rachel replied sharply. “I should hardly care for wealth if my father were dead, for then I would truly have nobody. What would I care about money if he were no longer here?”
“A noble sentiment,” Emily said, somewhat chastened.
“My concern lies solely in how I may reach America safely.” Rachel clasped her hands as her pulse began to race. “Surely, it would be more prudent for me to remain here until Papa is finished with his business endeavors over there? He can come back and all will be well.”
“I do not think he ever intends to return, Rachel. That is why he has chosen now to ask that you join him.”
Rachel’s heart sank. “So, we are to start a new life…”
“I believe you are, my dear.”
“Well, I shall be having several choice words with my Papa when I see him again,” she muttered. “I do not even know these sailors who have offered to take me there. Whilst it may be true that Papa has arranged for a chaperone, and he has spoken with the captain himself, that does nothing to ease my fears. I have not met them. I do not know them. Who is to say if I shall like them?”
“You do not need to like them, Rachel, you need only trust them.”
Rachel shook her head. “Well, that is no mean feat either. How may I trust them if I do not know them?”
“Simply trust your father and you will see yourself safely delivered to the shores of the New World. Indeed, it is probably best if you keep to your chambers on the ship until you have arrived, for then no harm can come to you.”
“Anyone would think you were not even sad to see me go.” She offered a tight laugh.
Emily smiled and took her friend’s hand. “I am not sad, dear Rachel, I am envious. I have barely traveled farther than Somerset my entire life. You are fortunate to be granted such a rare opportunity to travel so far, though I know it does not feel as such at this very moment in time. Once the fear has gone, you will see that this is a gift and not a curse.”
Rachel sighed. “And if it still feels like a curse?”
“You must not think that way,” Emily urged.
Rachel could not help it. Her heart already ached for the home she would leave behind and she had not even set foot outside the front door. Below the window of her near-bare bedchamber, she could hear the driver muttering. The horses’ hooves clipped against the cobbles, showing their impatience. It would not be long before she could not delay any further. A few moments, maybe.
“And you will write?” Rachel pleaded.
“As often as I may.”
“And you might visit, one day?”
Emily chuckled softly. “Nothing in this world could prevent me.”
“Then… I suppose I must go.” Rachel looked to her bedchamber door. Footsteps echoed on the landing beyond. Before Beth even appeared, Rachel knew it would be the willowy, nervous girl, begging her to make haste. A flicker of panic bristled through her. “I am on my way, child. How many times must I say it—I will not be rushed!”
“Yes, Miss Fau
lks. Sorry, Miss Faulks.” Beth dipped into an awkward curtsey, though she did not move from her post. Evidently, the carriage driver had told her not to leave until Rachel relented.
“No, sweet Beth, it is I who ought to be sorry,” Rachel replied solemnly. “I do not mean to be so curt toward you. Please, accept my apologies for this terse demeanor and please do pass the message of apology on to the others. I believe they may currently be hiding from me for fear of inciting my wrath.” A soft laugh rippled from her throat, though the cheerful sound rang empty. In truth, she did not feel remotely joyful.
Beth smiled. “No need to apologize, Miss Faulks. All of us know you’re stressed about this here voyage. Can’t blame you, miss. I reckon we’d all be the same in your shoes.”
“Thank you, Beth.”
“My pleasure, Miss Faulks.”
Letting out a heavy breath, Rachel gathered her ermine stole from where it lay on the bed and draped it over one shoulder. Her bonnet came next, giving her some difficulty as she attempted to fix it in place. Ordinarily, she would have asked her lady’s maid, Ruth, to help her, but she had already taken up another position at a residence down the street. Everything was changing and Rachel did not like it one bit.
After wrangling the bonnet into submission, she retrieved one or two forgotten items from the vanity surface – an emerald choker and a small bottle of perfume – and slipped them into her bag, closing the clasp with a satisfying click. There was nothing left to be done. She could not put her departure off any longer.
Casting one last look around the much-loved bedchamber where she had grown from girlhood to womanhood, she turned on her heel and strode out onto the landing. In the end, she figured there was no use in sentimental farewells. If her father planned to keep her in America, then she would never see this place again. Her memories would have to suffice.
The driver perked up as Rachel stepped out of the house with Emily in tow. He tipped his hat at her from the driver’s box and tightened his grip on the reins. Rachel’s heart beat that little bit faster knowing they would soon leave. She offered a smile of apology to the impatient man and clambered into the velvet interior of the carriage, settling on the banquette within. Emily walked up to the small window and reached for Rachel’s hand.
“Be brave, my dear friend, for wonders await you.”
“I pray you are right, Emily.”
“Have faith. The Lord will not guide you astray.”
Rachel nodded. She fervently agreed with her friend and yet, she could not stop the onslaught of anxiety that began to force its way through her veins. Her cheeks flushed hot and her hands started to shake. Determined not to let anyone see the full extent of her terror, not even her dearest friend, she clasped her palms together.
“You see, you have only to pray and He will keep your spirits up,” Emily encouraged, catching sight of Rachel’s clasped hands.
“I must take comfort where I can,” she admitted.
“Farewell, Rachel.”
“Farewell, my dearest Emily. I hope the future may hold something wonderful for you, too and that providence sees you through life with good health and good fortune, until we meet again.”
“Until we meet again,” Emily promised.
With that, the driver snapped the reins and the carriage jolted forward. A bright, spring sun shone down upon Rachel as the wheels rumbled down the cobbled road. She could feel its warmth on her face, as she leaned out of the small window. With her hand raised, she waved to her beloved friend until the carriage turned the corner, taking her out of sight of everything and everyone she had ever known.
Chapter Three
Noah loitered outside the entrance to the Red Lion for what seemed like a lifetime. He had walked up to the door and walked away five times already. A few of the grizzled sailors who stood thereabouts were starting to get suspicious, their eyes narrowing in concern as to who this anxious gentleman might be. Noah couldn’t blame them for their unease; he’d have felt the same in their position. Truth be told, he was acting rather strange.
“We don’t want no trouble around here, lad,” one of the sailors muttered, bluish smoke billowing from the end of his wooden pipe. “Either you’re going in or you’re staying out. Which is it to be?”
Noah looked at the man. “Going in.”
“Right, well get on with it. You’ve been hanging around here like a bad stench for the last half hour and you’re making folks nervous.”
“My apologies,” Noah replied, tipping his cap to the others.
Steeling himself, he stepped toward the front door of the Red Lion and pushed it open. A cacophony of rowdy cries and slurred songs bombarded his ears as he stooped under the lintel. It was barely four o’clock, and already most of the pub’s inhabitants were inebriated. He avoided a pair of brawny fishermen who were hanging onto one another’s shoulders, confessing their admiration, and paying no attention to where they were staggering. Slipping past a harried barmaid carrying a tray of flagons, Noah found his way to the back of the room. Things were much quieter here.
Sure enough, Benjamin was sitting at a table in the farthest corner. At first, Noah almost missed him. He’d positioned himself so far back into the shadows that it had become a cloak of darkness around him, hiding his face from sight. It wasn’t until he called out that Noah knew he was here.
“What time do you call this?” Benjamin teased.
“I needed a bit more time,” Noah replied sharply. He took a seat opposite and motioned for the barmaid to bring over two ales. She scowled at him, but he was handsome enough for her to relent.
“I said four or I’d take it as a sign that you weren’t interested.”
“It’s just gone quarter-past.” Noah flashed his friend an irreverent smile. “What’s fifteen minutes between old friends?”
Benjamin laughed. “You ought to be grateful you’re one of the best craftsmen out there, otherwise I’d be kicking you out of here on your behind.”
“I should like to see you try. You are not as spry as you once were.”
“Experience over youth, my boy. You remember that.” Benjamin’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I could still teach you a lesson or two.”
“I’ll remember.”
“Now, how about we get down to business?” Benjamin suggested brightly. “I have a ship waiting at the King’s Dock and a crew to sail her.”
“You have a crew already? I only spoke with you this morning.”
“What can I say, Noah, a man has to work fast if he wants to make his way in this world,” Benjamin replied with a hint of a laugh in his words.
“You already had the crew, didn’t you?” He realized suddenly that he had been fooled. This had all been a ruse to get him to agree.
Benjamin shrugged. “Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn’t. All I can say is, I knew I needed the best of the best to come on-board as my carpenter,” he said. “This is going to be a long and arduous voyage and there is a large sum of money at stake. I need to know I have someone with me who can fix anything, no matter what happens. If we hit any storms or get caught in the crosshairs of the warring fleets, I have to have somebody who can get us out of there alive.”
“Let me guess, that person is me?”
“That person is you.”
Noah sighed. “So, what kind of cargo is it? Contraband? Stolen goods?”
“Would that change your decision?”
“Ordinarily, it might, but you happen to have caught me in a particularly tricky spot of poor employment.” He glanced at Benjamin suspiciously. “Still, I would like some idea of what we are carrying.”
“Well, lad, I am pleased you should ask,” Benjamin replied. “You see, it came to my attention in the fifteen minutes you kept me waiting that your talents would be wasted as a first-mate. So, instead, I have decided to place the cargo under your care. It shall be your responsibility to take care of it and ensure nothing happens to it.”
Noah frowned, feeling uneasy. “What is it?”<
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“Now, where would the excitement be if I simply told you?”
“Benjamin…” A warning dripped from Noah’s words.
“You must learn to relax, Noah. You will find out all you need to know on Friday, my dear boy.”
“Friday?”
Benjamin nodded. “Come Friday, we sail on the morning tide.”
“Tell me you are not smuggling some sort of live animal into America to breed for entertainment?” Noah said warily, envisioning a pair of fanged tigers swiping at his neck with jagged claws. Or two enormous elephants tucked away in the belly of the captain’s merchant ship ready to trample him.
Saying that, he did not know where Benjamin might have procured a tiger or an elephant. But that was the trouble with his old friend—he could find and ship just about anything that anyone asked him to. A wealthy earl had once asked Benjamin to steal and smuggle rare animals for him during their first voyage to India. Noah had never forgotten the request, though Benjamin had decided not to follow through with the task. Even so, Noah had seen both those animals during his time in India and, though he had fallen in love with the majestic elephants, he did not wish to repeat any kind of interaction with a tiger. He still bore the scar on his thigh from the last one.