A Waltz with the Outspoken Governess
Page 26
Bridget had never heard such a loving story.
“I’m so lucky,” Annette said. “Benjamin is so good to me, so good to Elsie.”
“She’s lucky to have such wonderful parents.”
“And to have you. The person who rescued Betsy,” Annette said. “She’ll never forget you. None of us will.”
“Of course not,” Bridget said. “Because we’ll see each other often. Now, you better go or you’ll be late.”
“You’re right.” Annette stood and draped a shawl around her shoulders. “I’ve already ordered the evening meal to be delivered to the cabin for you and Elsie.”
“We’ll visit the library after eating and return here to read the books she chooses,” Bridget said, walking beside Annette to the door. “She and Betsy will be sound asleep in bed when you return.”
“This is so nice of you, to give up your evening for us,” Annette said.
“I would simply be sitting in my berth otherwise. I truly don’t mind,” Bridget replied, opening the door that led into the sitting room of their suite, which also had a second bedroom and a full bath.
Once Benjamin and Annette had hugged and kissed Elsie, they left the suite and Bridget took ahold of Elsie’s hand. “What would you like to do, Poppet? Play with Betsy or a game of knucklebones or—”
“Knucklebones!” Elsie exclaimed.
“Then knucklebones it is.”
“I’ll get it!” Elsie ran to the room she slept in to collect the little bag.
Moments later, they were sitting on the floor, bouncing the rubber ball and picking up the small metal knob-ended jacks before the ball bounced a second time. Elsie’s giggles filled the room when the ball would bounce away before either of them could catch it. Bridget was fully enamored by the little girl and loved every moment she spent with her.
After eating the evening meal upon its delivery, they visited the massive first-class library where Elsie, clutching Betsy, snuggled on Bridget’s lap in one of the large chairs while she read the child a couple of stories from a children’s book.
“Time to go back to your room, Poppet,” Bridget said when Elsie started yawning. “We’ll read some more there,” she added when Elsie frowned.
“Yippie!” Elsie said, getting a second wind.
Her second wind didn’t last long after Bridget had helped her into her nightgown and lay down on the bed beside her to read another story. When Elsie was sound asleep, Bridget eased off the bed, kissed Elsie’s forehead and then sneaked out of the room. In the sitting room, she nestled into a corner on the sofa to read a book she’d chosen for herself. The story was good, but she found herself wondering about the Wingards. Wondering if all the people in America were as nice as them, including Benjamin’s brother, whom they spoke of so fondly. Karl Wingard. He was older than Benjamin. Twenty-eight, and unmarried. He sounded nice, and he had bought Betsy for Elsie. Annette said they all lived in the Wingard family home, because it was so large, and because they didn’t want Karl to live alone.
She couldn’t help but wonder about that. About him.
When her eyes snapped open, Bridget questioned what had awakened her, then was appalled that she’d dared to fall asleep! The room was silent. Annette and Benjamin had not yet returned. She rose to check on Elsie, but felt oddly off-balance, as if the ship itself was somehow faulty.
Attributing it to falling asleep, she checked on Elsie, who was still fast asleep. Feeling something was out of place, or simply awkward, Bridget returned to the sitting room.
Everything felt oddly still.
Or had she grown so used to the movement of the ship, she simply no longer noticed it?
Bridget was about to sit back down on the sofa when the cabin door opened.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the steward said, walking directly to a closet. “The captain has ordered all passengers put on their life belts.” He pulled a white life belt off the closet shelf and held it out to her. “And proceed to the sundeck.”
Her heart stalled. “Life belts? Why?”
He dropped the belt over her head. “Just a precaution, ma’am. How many people are in the cabin?” He talked fast, yet calmly, and with quick steps, crossed the room and opened the door to Annette’s bedroom.
“Two,” Bridget answered, fastening the life belt as she hurried into Elsie’s room. “Mr. and Mrs. Wingard are at a private party in the—”
“Get the child,” he said, standing at Elsie’s door. “And come along. Hurry.”
“What’s happening?”
“Just a precaution, ma’am.” He handed her another life belt. “Put this on the child. Get your coats. Hurry.”
Scared and flustered, she grabbed Elsie’s coat from the small closet. “Why do we need to hurry if it’s just a precaution?”
“Captain’s orders. Please hurry. I have other passengers to alert,” he said.
“Can you please find Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Wingard, let them know?”
“Yes, now hurry to the sundeck.”
“Thank...” Her words trailed off because he was already gone, leaving the bedroom door and the door to the corridor open.
The noise that filtered in, of other passengers scurrying along the corridor, sent her heart racing. Not wanting to scare Elsie, she gently awakened her. “Sit up, Poppet. I need to put your coat on.”
“I’m not cold, Bridget,” Elsie said, with one eye open. “I’m in bed.”
“I know you are darling, but we need to go up on the deck, and it will be chilly up there,” she said while putting on Elsie’s coat and buttoning it. “I need you to put on this life belt, too.”
The white cork-filled vests were cumbersome, but with Elsie in her arms, Bridget picked up the doll. “Here, you hold on to Betsy.” Then, concerned because Elsie didn’t have on any socks or shoes, Bridget pulled a blanket off the bed and quickly tucked it around the child.
She left the cabin and followed other vest-wearing passengers up to the sundeck, all the while assuring Elsie that everything was fine.
“It’s just a drill,” a woman wearing a fur coat said. “They canceled the life boat drill this morning.”
“Why are they doing it at this hour?” another woman asked. “It’s ludicrous.”
Others agreed and discontent grew as they were ushered along the deck toward the lifeboats. Uniformed men were racing back and forth, shouting for people to hurry to the lifeboats. Passengers returned with shouts that they were not getting in a boat. That there was no reason to if it was just a precaution.
Bridget bustled alongside the protesters, her arms trembling at the difficulty of holding Elsie with both of them wearing the bulky life vests, and shivering as the cold air penetrated her thin dress. Every time she stopped, or saw a seaman, she asked them to find Annette and Benjamin.
“Women and children first!” shipmates were yelling. “Women and children first!”
One of the ship’s men grasped her shoulders from behind, shoved her toward a lifeboat. “Here! Woman and child! Here!” He pushed harder to get her through the group. “Step aside! Step aside!”
Elsie was slipping from her hold due to the jostling. Bridget hoisted her higher, fumbling to hold on to the blanket in the process. “Please,” she said to the shipmate over her shoulder. “The child’s parents are at a party. With the captain. Captain Smith. You must let them know where we are. Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Wingard. Annette and Benjamin Wingard!”
“Sure, sure,” he said. “Get in the boat.”
Still trying to get a solid grip on Elsie, Bridget shook her head. “Her parents—”
The man grabbed her, lifted her, along with Elsie in her arms, over the edge of the boat and dropped them inside.
She landed on the wooden seat so hard it made her backside sting, but her concern was Elsie. “Are you all right, Poppet?” she asked, twisting Elsie a
bout on her lap so her leg wasn’t squished between her and the woman beside them. “Where’s Betsy?”
Elsie lifted the doll so her head popped up over the blanket.
“Good.” Bridget kissed the top of Elsie’s head and tucked the blanket snugly around her little feet and legs. “It’s going to be fine. We are just going to sit here for a little bit, then we’ll get you back in bed.”
Copyright © 2020 by Lauri Robinson
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ISBN-13: 9781488071652
A Waltz with the Outspoken Governess
Copyright © 2020 by Catherine Tinley
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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