“You don’t owe us a thing. You’ve been generous, but just because Edward—”
“Edward has nothing to do with this.”
“You bear no responsibility, no fault. I’m so sad that you’d do this to try to mend some of his wrongs.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re doing it to protect Timmy, then, aren’t you? What did your brother try to do?”
John tilted her face up to his. “Emily, this will shelter Timmy, but that’s simply a bonus. As for my brother—I’ve ordered Goodhew to pack all of Edward’s possessions. Edward won’t be living here, and he’s banned from any of my vessels.”
“Oh no! John, I lost my sister—must you lose your brother, too?”
“There is no other way,” he said grimly. “No man is beyond the grace or redemption of God. I’ll pray for Edward, but until he repents and seeks salvation, he’s not welcome here.”
“He put great store by the Cormorant. Surely he kicked up a mighty fuss over that.” Pain streaked across her face. “Now you’re proposing. What did he—”
He gave her a tender smile. “As if anything Edward might say matters at all.”
“But—”
“Emily, from the first time I saw you, you caught my attention. Duncan charmed me, and I felt compassion for Anna—but you—you were different. Your spirit drew me. I finally came to realize why you’ve captivated me. I’ve not married because I never found a woman who I felt would be a suitable partner.”
“I’m far from suitable! I’m poor—”
“Shh.” He gently pressed his fingers to her lips. “Money can be made and spent, won and lost. Your wealth is superior, Emily. You have a wealth of love to share. Other women have looked at my business with a greedy eye—but they also knew my business forces me to deal with rough, rowdy men. In their presence I have to pretend that part of my life doesn’t exist. When I marry, I want a woman who is my life partner—my helpmeet. One who isn’t afraid of the rugged side I have.”
Emily turned her head to free herself. “Oh, but John, you’re rich as King Midas himself! I’m telling you, that scares me silly. I wouldn’t fit in as your wife here in your own house, let alone in society!”
“Love makes things work, and I have a heart full of love for you, Emily.” He captured her hands and brought them up to his lips. He kissed the backs of her fingers. “Tell me you care for me. Agree to be my beloved bride.”
“I do love you, John Newcomb. I love you straight down to the bottom of my heart. I just didn’t imagine God would ever grant that desire because it’s so impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible with God.” He drew her into his arms. “So I aim to make you my bride. I’ll give you three days to get ready.”
Her breath caught, but he silenced whatever she was about to say with a kiss.
The next day Emily stood in the heavenly bedroom up in the big house. Down the hall she could hear a slight commotion. When she turned to go tend to it, the dressmaker stopped her. “Don’t move!”
Cook laughingly instructed, “Clara, go make sure Lily and Mary are handling the babies. And you, Miss Emily, you’d best hold still as can be. Mr. John ordered me to be sure you had a wedding gown worthy of a fairy princess, and I aim to be sure you do.”
Emily looked down at the silver-shot white satin skirts and murmured, “Oh, it looks more like an angel than anything. You must have stayed up all night sewing!”
The dressmaker chuckled softly. “I have two workers who helped. Mr. Newcomb is making it more than worth my while, so don’t fret. The waist is fine, but the sleeves and hem look a tad long to me.”
She marked them with pins, then said, “Let’s slip it off you. I’ll need to have you decide on what lace you like.”
Emily carefully skimmed from the dress and looked down at the frilly petticoats and camisole the seamstress had brought. She sighed. “I’ve never worn anything so pretty. When you had me put these on, I never imagined the dress could be half as wondrous. Could I just trust you to choose as you see fit?”
The dressmaker beamed. “Of course.”
Someone tapped on the door. Cook went to answer it, then turned around. “Miss Emily, you’re wanted downstairs at once.”
Emily hastily slipped into the fawn-colored dress John liked so much and stepped into her shoes. She pattered down the stairs with more speed than decorum, but John never rushed her, so she figured his summons must be important. Goodhew met her at the foot of the stairs.
“I’m to take you to the study, miss.” He did just that, then flashed her a smile and patted her hand as he let go of her arm and opened the door. “I wish you every happiness.”
Puzzled, Emily stepped into the study and into John’s waiting arms. He embraced her and whispered in her ear, “I have an early wedding gift for you, sweetheart.”
Before she could respond, a man said, “Now I’ve been waitin’ far longer for a hug. Best you step aside, young man.”
Emily let out a sharp gasp.
Both of her parents stepped out from behind a bookcase. John didn’t let go. He swept her into his arms and laughed loudly as he closed the distance in a few hasty steps. “I’ll share her.”
Emily stood at the back of the church in her beautiful, rustling wedding gown. Her father gave her a kiss and murmured, “He’s a good man. He’ll keep you happy.”
She smiled at her father and nodded. Truer words had not been spoken. Since her parents’ arrival, John had told her that the very day he’d learned her parents were still alive, he’d sent one of his own vessels clear across the ocean to fetch them. He’d never mentioned a word of it to her, fearing her parents might not be alive or located. That vessel carried food to be left behind, and John ordered it to be filled with those wishing to come to America. Several other families were celebrating reunions due to his kindness.
The organ began to play. It was time to forge a new family of her own. Emily whispered a quick prayer of thanks and let her father lead her to her beloved.
Chapter 16
Seven years later
Hurry, Mama.”
John swept his six-year-old daughter into his arms and chuckled. “Anna, Mama has her hands full. Be patient.”
“The ship is waiting!”
“It’s not going anywhere without my say-so,” he reassured his daughter. He watched his wife with pride as she threaded her way toward him. They’d become separated in the throng, but that was nothing new. Emily often paused to speak to folks, and they adored her.
“Watch it!” Duncan yanked Timothy and Titus away from the rail. “You know what happens if you fall in!”
John smothered a smile at how both of the youngsters snapped to attention. Emily had planned this whole affair, and the boys knew if they misbehaved, she’d send them back to the house instead of letting them enjoy the picnic. The annual Newcomb Shipping picnic was far too much fun for them to risk banishment.
Emily had started the picnic the year they married, and each subsequent year, it turned into a bigger event. It looked as though half of Virginia had turned out for the ship’s christening and picnic today. John watched his wife as she deftly handled the social demands as if they were nothing. God’s goodness and love shone through her, and everyone responded. She’d been worried she’d not be able to handle high society, but she was their darling. Still, she’d not changed. The lowliest sailor’s wife got the same reception as a debutante.
“Nonny, call Mama and tell her to hurry,” Anna insisted. “She’s your little girl. She has to ‘bey you.”
Emily’s mother turned and fussed with Anna’s hair for a moment. “Now, now, our Anna. Mama’s letting folks make a fuss over baby Phillip. They’ve not seen him before. Once she comes on up here, everyone’s going to be paying attention to you, so he’s getting his turn first.”
“Papa, boat!” Lily said gleefully as she hung on to her grandfather’s lapel.
“Aye, and a fine one she is.”
“Who i
s fine?” Emily asked as John reached for her hand and helped her up the steps.
“You are, dear.” He smiled at her. “You’re magnificent. Ready?”
She nestled a bit closer and rearranged Phillip on her shoulder. “Yes. Everything is perfect.”
They exchanged a loving look. They’d discussed names for the ship for months. Only yesterday had they agreed, so John had come down to the dock later that day and painted the name on the vessel himself.
Moments later, after John finished praying aloud and asking a blessing on the new ship, he put a bottle in Anna’s little hands and helped her swing it. In a clear, high voice, she declared, “I christen thee the Contentment!”
Redeemed Hearts
Dedication
To my readers, who share with me in the faith, hopes, and dreams of real life and still spend time to turn the pages of my books.
God bless you!
Chapter 1
Virginia, October 1860
Aye, now, you’re a beauty, to be sure.” Duncan O’Brien reached out and caressed the sleek hull. Sawdust, pine tar, and salty air mingled to add to the sense of rightness. He’d just come back from a voyage and resolutely seen to the usual captain’s duties before hastening here. Newcomb Shipping boasted a shipyard all its own. The vessel currently under construction would belong to him.
“We’re making good progress,” John Newcomb, his much older brother-in-law, commented as he slapped an open palm against a sturdy-looking bulwark.
Duncan moved about the dry dock with ease, sidestepping piles of lumber, ducking when wenched loads swung overhead, and striding up a plank to reach the deck. John followed right behind him.
Duncan looked about and grinned. “You were modest in saying you’ve made good progress. She’s at least a month ahead of schedule!”
“It’ll be a few months yet ere she’s seaworthy. The framework is sound, and the men tell me the timber is cooperative. Old Kemper declares the last time he had a ship put itself together this easily was when he built it inside a bottle.”
“Old Kemper? If he says so, that makes it even more remarkable.” Duncan didn’t bother to hide his smile. The master shipbuilder had cultivated a reputation for being surly. Indeed he had scowling down to a fine art. In the fifty years he’d been in charge of shipbuilding, Kemper had winnowed through many a carpenter to form the team that strove for perfection. As a result, Newcomb Shipping earned local fame for the vessels they turned out. Duncan reverently traced a joist. “This lady is a work of art.”
“You’d be one to recognize that fact.” John clapped a hand on Duncan’s shoulder. “I doubt any other captain ever spent half as much time with the construction part of the trade.”
“I paid my dues.” Duncan nodded with mock solemnity. “It cost me half a licorice rope. The day I shared that rope, Old Kemper transformed into the best mentor a landlubber boy ever met.”
John’s eyes widened. “Is that what softened the crusty old man?”
“You tellin’ tales again?” Old Kemper swaggered up. He shook his finger at Duncan. “How am I to command my men effectively if you reveal my weakness?”
“You earned their respect. That’s all you need.” Duncan slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out a twist of paper. He palmed it to Kemper when they shook hands.
“You’re a good man, Duncan O’Brien.” Old Kemper made no attempt to conceal his gift. He tugged open an end of the paper, popped one of the dime-sized, chewy, black candy “coins” into his mouth, and twisted the paper shut once again. As he tucked the remainder of the licorice into his vest pocket without offering to share, he added, “And I’m not.”
They toured the vessel and inspected every last inch. Afterward the three men headed toward the office. Once they finished reviewing the blueprints, Kemper hobbled off. John knocked his knuckles on the plans that lay across his desk. “You’ll need to come up with a name for her soon.”
“I seem to recall you didn’t determine a name for the Contentment until the day before she was christened. I figure the right name will come to me in time.”
“Well, well. I see you’ve truly outgrown your impulsiveness,” John teased as he rolled up the plans and secured them in his desk.
“Probably not entirely. The responsibilities of captaining your grand vessels and crews have taught me the wisdom of paying consideration to actions and weighing decisions instead of trying to patch up mistakes. The ocean is apt to claim souls for any errors.”
“Anticipating and solving problems in advance is a lesson a man learns more than once.” John glanced at the clock in the corner. “Speaking of learning lessons—I know better than to disappoint my wife when she plans a special family supper. The last few evenings, I’ve had meetings. We’d best get going.”
Duncan hefted his duffel bag and accompanied his brother-in-law out of the office. Duncan was a man who straddled two lives. One foot belonged aboard a deck; the other belonged on land where a loving family welcomed him with open arms. He counted himself blessed—a man couldn’t hope for more than to be at ease with his family and his calling.
Brigit Murphy heard a giggle. She glanced over her shoulder and gave Trudy a questioning look.
“I tied me pinafore a wee bit tighter.” Trudy proceeded to dampen her fingertips and smooth back a few stray wisps of her ginger-colored hair. “Miss Emily’s brother just got home, and I’m wanting to look my best for him.”
Brigit shook her head in disbelief. What would make a simple maid like Trudy think a man of distinction might give a fleeting thought to courting her? Such thinking led to pure folly.
Trudy had hired on only a month before her, but she was younger and of a more outgoing nature.
“Trudy, no maid ever keeps a position once her reputation comes under scrutiny,” Brigit whispered, “even when ’tisn’t her fault. Please—”
Trudy’s lips pushed into a spoiled moue. “Oh, your mood’s as black as your hair. You wouldn’t be such a stick-in-the-mud if you knew Miss Emily was a cleaning woman afore she married Mr. John. What’s wrong with a girl like me wishing for the same good luck? Besides, once you see this strapping man, you’ll be trying to catch his attention, too. Why, Duncan O’Brien’s the most dashing sea captain a lass ever saw!”
“I’m not about to chase after a man. Go on ahead and set your own cap for him.”
Trudy waggled her brows. “Not that I’d mind catching the likes of Miss Emily’s brother, but what cap?”
Laughter bubbled out of Brigit. The lady of the house didn’t make her staff wear caps. In fact, Miss Emily didn’t dress her maids in black either. Shrugging at convention, Miss Emily ran her home in a unique manner. Cornflower blue dresses and rotating work assignments kept the maids a merry bunch. None of the maids held a permanent assignment—Brigit was just as likely to be asked to polish the silver or sweep out a grate as she was to be dusting the master’s bedchamber or minding the children. In fact, in the two weeks Brigit had been employed here, she’d seen Miss Emily don an apron and teach her oldest two daughters how to bake bread!
Taking care to tie her ruffled serving pinafore rather loosely, Brigit hummed appreciatively at the aroma filling the air as Cook opened the oven. Roast beef. Until she’d come to work here, Brigit hadn’t tasted roast in at least four years. Another of the Newcombs’ quirks was that the staff enjoyed the same entrées as the family. Miss Emily said it made for less work for the cook, but everyone knew better. The staff adored their mistress and took pleasure in telling Brigit from the very first day that Miss Emily had once held a job as a lowly servant and never assumed airs. Clearly she commanded her household by dint of affection, and it ran seamlessly.
Brigit knew the details of running a large mansion. As a landowner’s daughter back in Ireland, she’d been reared with the expectation that she’d wed a well-to-do gentleman and manage his home. Mum saw to training her well. Then the famine hit. The blight on the crops rated as a horrible disaster, but Da always subscribe
d to the revelation of Joseph’s dream in the Old Testament and saved for lean times. Year after year things worsened. Farmers left for the New World. Many of the house servants were wives, sisters, and daughters who went along. Brigit and Mum took over the chores.
Never once had they bemoaned the change in circumstances. Saint Paul’s words from the fourth chapter of Philippians became the Murphy family’s credo: “For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Even now, after they’d come to America and her parents lived in a tenement, Brigit willingly took on the role of a servant. She felt God’s presence in her life and counted her blessings. Tonight one of those blessings would be roast beef.
Trudy nudged her. “Just you wait and see. Now that Duncan O’Brien is home, there’ll be a parade of eligible girls coming through the door. He usually manages to talk Mr. John into sending him off on a voyage when the ladies start batting their lashes at him.” She pinched her cheeks to bring up some color. “It’ll be different this time.”
Cook started carving the roast and missed Trudy’s primping actions. “Aye, that it will,” she said. “Trudy, dish up the carrots. Brigit, grab the pitcher of milk.” As if she hadn’t given the instructions, she continued, “I heard Miss Emily tell Mr. John it’s high time she found her brother a wife.”
Goodhew, the butler, wagged his finger. “Keep quiet about him for now. Mr. John wanted Duncan’s arrival to be a surprise for Miss Emily.”
Cook batted away Goodhew’s finger and gave him a peck on the cheek. Anywhere else in the house, they conducted themselves according to their station; but in the kitchen, they switched back into a happily married couple. “It won’t be much of a surprise. I had Fiona set a place at the table for Duncan.”
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