His voice sharpened. “This is a working tour, remember, not an excuse for matchmaking from one end of the colony to the other.”
Jocelyn’s volatile and bewildering mixture of feelings for the governor made his remark sting more harshly than it might have otherwise. Ned, bless his heart, had hardly ever raised his voice to her during their marriage.
“I will thank you not to take that tone with me, sir!” She welcomed her anger. Perhaps it would put a stop to her foolish infatuation with Sir Robert Kerr. “This tour was your idea, if you recall. You invited us to accompany you—something about receiving a warmer welcome if you brought along a bunch of pretty young ladies. Or was that just a ruse to fob off Mr. Wye?”
“In part perhaps, but—”
There, he admitted it! “If you consider me and my charges too great an inconvenience, we will gladly part company with you at Yarmouth. Any of the girls who do not find suitable husbands there can accompany me back to Halifax.”
She stormed away from him. Hateful man!
“Mrs. Finch, please,” he called after her in an exasperated tone.
Well, he could be no more exasperated than she! It wasn’t just what he’d said and how he’d said it, but the unwelcome realization that he had the power to injure her feelings. Yet he still made her pulse race and her senses tingle…even when she was furious enough to throttle him! She dared not speak to him again until she got her wayward emotions under control.
But the Atlantic Ocean had other ideas. At that moment a sudden swell caught the Aldebaran amidships. The deck gave a lurch, throwing Jocelyn off balance. Flailing her arms in a vain effort to break her fall, she prepared to make bruising contact with the deck. Instead she found herself caught in the governor’s strong arms.
“Are you all right?” He sounded as if he truly cared.
“Thanks to you, I have suffered no injury, except to my dignity.” Jocelyn struggled out of his embrace, though the struggle was less against him than against her own inclination to linger in his arms.
He helped her to her feet then released her readily…all except one hand, to which he clung. “Then kindly do me the favor of hearing my apology?”
She did owe him that. And his look of genuine contrition would have persuaded her in any case.
“Very well.” She straightened her bonnet and tried to recover her composure, which seemed to have washed overboard. “You have my attention.”
He had claimed far too much of her attention, almost from the moment she’d stepped onto the wharf in Halifax.
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Finch.” Sir Robert did not release her hand. And she could not bring herself to pull it away. “You are right in every particular. You and your charges are here by my invitation. It is true the idea first occurred to me as a way of placating Mr. Wye. But I believe our visit to the South Shore has proven the benefits of this tour to both of us. Most of all, to the communities we visit.”
“Then why did you say what you did just now?” Jocelyn tried not to sound like a child sulking after being scolded.
But she could not deny her feelings harked back to the few times in her youth when her father had spoken sharply to her. The marquess would never have thought of apologizing, though. Especially not to his daughter.
“I begged your pardon.” Sir Robert released her hand at last. “I told you I was wrong. What more do you want from me?”
Before she could reply, he seemed to relent. Perhaps he had decided she deserved an explanation after all. “I have had some disturbing news from Halifax. I made the mistake of venting my frustration upon you. For that I am sorry. I suppose your affable paragon of a husband never engaged in such contemptible behavior.”
What disturbing reports from Halifax? Jocelyn wondered. And what did Ned have to do with this? But the governor’s words made her think.
“No, he did not, that I can recall. I did, though. Whenever his leave was about to end and he would have to go away again, I would often pick a quarrel…because I was worried he would never come back to me.”
Somehow Ned had recognized her ill temper for what it was. She remembered him pulling her onto his knee and saying, “Don’t fret, sweet Jo. I’ve got more lives than a dozen cats. I’ll still be around vexing you to pieces when we’re ninety!”
“Then you do understand.” The governor’s voice wrenched Jocelyn from her bittersweet memories. “Though I reckon you had far better cause to pick a quarrel than I did just now. You know, whenever I was tempted to regret my decision not to wed, I would ask myself if I could bear to leave behind a wife to wonder and worry when I went off to battle.”
A hint of longing in his voice assured Jocelyn he had been tempted to regret it. That did not surprise her as it once might have. “I assure you, I would rather have endured the loss of my husband a hundred times than never to have known the happiness of our marriage, however brief.”
The governor shook his head as if he could not fathom such feelings. “You are a gallant lady, Mrs. Finch. And your husband was a very lucky man.”
“Lucky for us the wind died down.” The captain of the Aldebaran lifted a long spyglass to his eye and stared toward the coast of Nova Scotia, a distant gray smudge along the western horizon. “It’s a foolhardy sailor who wants to risk rounding the Devil’s Elbow in rough seas.”
“That bad, is it?” asked the governor, who stood beside him on the foredeck.
The captain nodded. “A miserable mess of rocks and shoals. The worst bloody tides in the world to pull you onto them. And fog more than half the time so you can’t see what’s coming until it’s too late.”
“Will we be able to make a safe anchorage off the island before sunset?” Sir Robert did not want to risk any danger to Mrs. Finch and her charges, especially after their difficult crossing from England.
“Like I said, sir, it’s not so bad on a clear, calm day. We’ll be there with a couple of hours of daylight to spare.”
Evidently the captain knew his job, for the evening was still young when they dropped anchor in a sheltered cove on the eastern side of the island. Sir Robert and Mr. Duckworth scrambled down into the ship’s boat where one of the crewmen rowed them the short distance to shore. Mrs. Finch and some of the young ladies watched from the deck of the Aldebaran.
Just as the boat reached the beach, a man appeared. He looked to be somewhere between the ages of the governor and his aide. He wore sturdy work clothes, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal muscular, well-tanned arms.
“Welcome to Seal Island, sirs. Is your ship in trouble?” His question and his puzzled look suggested that could be the only reason for anyone to visit the island.
Sir Robert strode forward, his hand extended. “Captain Howell? I am Governor Kerr. I received your petition about…”
“Th-the governor?” The man wiped his hand on his breeches before taking Sir Robert’s and giving it a hearty shake. “I’m not Howell, sir. I’m his brother-in-law, Edmund Canning.”
He turned and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Richard, Mary, Jerusha, come quick! It’s the governor!”
Another man, somewhat older than Mr. Canning, came running, followed by two young women, one carrying a baby. Sir Robert had never received a warmer welcome in his life.
Once introductions were concluded, he lost no time coming to the point of his visit. “Your petition impressed me, Captain Howell. Since I had to sail past your island, I thought it might be worthwhile to see the place for myself and to discuss your situation at greater length than letters allow.”
“A fine idea, sir,” said Howell.
He seemed about to say more when his wife laid a small, work-roughened hand on his arm. “Why don’t we invite our guests back to the house, my dear? It’s a little more comfortable than standing around the beach.”
“Do you have time, sir?” Howell asked.
Sir Robert nodded. “We plan to anchor here for the night, if that is agreeable.”
“It’s an honor, sir. Come, our
place is this way. We’ve all been living in one house, but this summer we’re building Edmund and Jerusha a place of their own.”
As the party ambled up the beach, Sir Robert asked, “Do I understand you survived a shipwreck in these waters?”
“Aye, sir. It was my good fortune to be rescued by some brave fishermen from Barrington and brought to shore where the Cannings took me in. If I’d ended up on the island, instead, they’d have been burying my bones the next spring.”
“They? But I thought the island was uninhabited before you elected to settle here?”
Captain Howell glanced toward his wife. “Why don’t you tell the governor? You know more about that part of it than I.”
Mrs. Howell did not take any great urging. “Every winter there would be at least one wreck, you see. We’d know because wreckage would wash ashore and sometimes we’d catch a glimpse of lights on the island—fires made out here by the survivors. But it was too dangerous for any boats from Barrington to sail out after them. The fires would burn for a night or two then they’d go out and we’d know those poor souls had starved or frozen or died of their injuries.”
By now they had reached a snug house sheltered by a small grove of evergreens, stunted by the relentless Atlantic winds.
Mrs. Howell stared up at Sir Robert, almost challenging him not to be moved by her account. “Have you ever known someone was dying, sir, and not been able to go to their aid?”
Her words conjured up dark memories of one particular battle and a boyish lieutenant who’d looked a bit like Duckworth.
“Now, Mary…” protested her husband.
Sir Robert lifted his hand to indicate he did not mind the question. “I have been a soldier, ma’am.”
She gave a solemn nod, as if satisfied. Then she continued her story. “When spring came, we would sail out to the island.” She glanced toward her brother. “Our pa’s a preacher. He said the least we could do was give those poor folks a decent burial.”
Sir Robert winced. The woman scarcely looked old enough to be wed. She must have been little more than a child when she’d first come here on that grim mission. “Your father brought you with him to bury dead bodies?”
Corpses that had lain out in the open for weeks, perhaps month, exposed to the elements.
“Brought?” Edmund Canning’s deep voice rumbled. “Why we could not keep her from coming along, short of tying her up.”
They all crowded into the main room of the little house where the women served them tea. Captain Howell gave the governor an account of their first two years on Seal Island. “There was one wreck that first winter and four this past. We still had bodies to bury from folks who drowned, but we saved eight people who would have perished if we had not been here to give them warmth, shelter and food.”
“I sincerely commend you.” Sir Robert fixed each of them with a look of admiration. “Though I doubt any words of mine can add to the satisfaction you must take from the lives you have saved. If nothing else, I can promise you a grant of money to help defray the costs of your…guests.”
Captain Howell set his mug on the table. “That’s good of you, sir. I’m sure we’d be glad of the help. But now that we’re here, it doesn’t seem enough just to save the folks that make it to shore. If we had a good boat, we might be able to rescue more from the sea. And if we built a lighthouse, we might be able to prevent most of those wrecks altogether.”
When they finished their tea, Sir Robert asked if they might show him around the island. Mrs. Canning stayed behind to put the baby to bed. But Captain Howell, his wife and brother-in-law gave the governor a thorough tour of the southern part of Seal Island, which was divided from the northern portion by a wide stretch of sand and a large, shallow pond.
Sir Robert’s hosts pointed out particular rocks that took their names from the ships that had wrecked upon them. They showed him the graveyard, far more heavily populated than the island itself. At his insistence, they paid a visit to the site where the Cannings’ house was slowly taking shape.
“Strange you should not build it closer to the other one,” he remarked, surveying the sturdy frame. “In such an isolated place, I’d think you would want to huddle together for company.”
Captain Howell pointed out toward the ocean. “That might be pleasant, sir. But we didn’t come here for pleasure. If Edmund and Jerusha live here, they can keep watch over a whole section of the coast we cannot see from the other house.”
Canning nodded. “We’re hoping to convince my wife’s brother to come out in a year or two and build a place on the north part of the island. If he does, we should be able to watch over the whole island.”
Not even a grant of money and his most strenuous effort to secure funds for a lighthouse seemed enough for Sir Robert to do to help these courageous, compassionate people.
The western horizon was stained a glowing crimson when the crewman from the Aldebaran suggested they head back to the ship.
“Red sky at night,” said Captain Howell. “You’ll have fine weather for sailing on to Yarmouth, tomorrow.”
An idea suddenly took root in Sir Robert’s mind. Though he knew there might be the devil to pay with Jocelyn Finch, he could not keep from voicing it. “Would you object if we stayed over an extra day and gave you a hand working on the new house?”
When his hosts looked aghast, he tried to forestall their objections. “An old soldier can turn his hand to most anything, and my aide knows the business end of a hammer. Don’t you, Duckworth?”
“Indeed, sir. I should be honored to render my assistance. And it would give you more time to discuss the proposed lighthouse. The more intimately you are acquainted with the matter, the better able you will be to persuade the assembly and the council.”
“Precisely what I was going to say.” Sir Robert patted Duckworth on the shoulder.
They exchanged a covert look that acknowledged he could never have come up with such an eloquent argument.
“I reckon if you insist.” Captain Howell still appeared somewhat doubtful. “It would be a great boon to have a couple more men to lend a hand.”
Mrs. Howell and her brother bid their guests good-night, while the captain escorted them back to the beach.
“The governor of Nova Scotia,” he murmured to himself as if he still could not believe it, “paying a call on Seal Island.”
“Thank you for your hospitality.” Sir Robert shook his hand. “We shall look forward to a good day’s work tomorrow. I can scarcely express the depth of my admiration for what you and Mr. Canning have begun here.”
The captain shook his head. “It’s not us, sir. I mean, it is, but…we’d never be here now if it wasn’t for my wife. She’s the one who convinced us we must give it a try at least. And here we are. She insisted I must write and ask you to build us a lighthouse. And here you are. They say the Fundy tides are some of the most powerful in the world, but I reckon they’ve met their match in my Mary.”
As Sir Robert’s small party rowed back to the Aldebaran, the governor mulled over what Captain Howell had said. He thought about Mrs. Howell, and Mrs. Finch and his mother. The young ladies who had left their homeland to venture across an ocean in hopes of finding love and beginning a new life.
The weaker sex? Sir Robert fancied not.
Duckworth must have mistaken the cause of his pensive silence. “Worried what Mrs. Finch will say when she hears we’ll be staying another night, sir? Would you like me to break the news to her?”
The governor stirred from his thoughts. “Kind of you to offer, but I’m not as cowardly as that.”
He did flinch, just a little, from the look in Mrs. Finch’s eyes—a mixture of disappointment and impatience. But once he told her some of what he had learned that evening, her attitude underwent a complete reversal.
“Of course we must stay! Is there anything the girls and I might do to help? I’m afraid I would be hopeless at any actual construction work, but I would be happy to fetch things for you or ru
n errands.”
Sir Robert thought for a moment then began to nod. “Perhaps you should come ashore tomorrow. I don’t suppose the ladies here get much company. They might enjoy a visit.”
“I’ll ask the captain if we might borrow from the galley stores to make everyone a nice meal,” she suggested.
No doubt the captain would bend over backwards to give her whatever she asked—like most men who came under the influence of her skilful blend of determination and charm.
The summer sun had barely risen when Sir Robert, Mr. Duckworth and several crewmen rowed ashore. By the time Jocelyn and the girls followed, the pounding of hammers could be heard in the distance.
Some of the girls spent the morning fetching and carrying for the men. Others helped Mrs. Howell and Mrs. Canning with their washing and made a great fuss over the baby. The rest spent the morning preparing a midday meal, which was eaten out of door, spiced by the briny ocean breeze.
After they had eaten, the men returned to work while the ladies spent a pleasant social hour.
“Would you care for a tour around the island?” asked Mrs. Howell when her sister-in-law had taken the baby inside for a long-overdue nap. “It isn’t very big, but what’s here, I’d be glad to show you.”
“Please, ma’am,” said Lily. “It’s called Seal Island. Do any seals ever come here? All I’ve seen this morning is sheep.”
Jocelyn had been surprised to see so many ewes and lambs wandering at will, grazing on the hardy island grass and shrubs.
With a merry laugh, Mrs. Howell rose and beckoned them all. “Come and see for yourselves.”
They rose and followed her to the rocky southern tip of the island.
Jocelyn gave a cry of surprise when several brown-gray lumps she had supposed to be rocks suddenly began to move. Wriggling over the sand between real rocks, they slid into the water and disappeared. But plenty more remained behind.
Deborah Hale Page 18