Threads of Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

“Yes. Her name is Flora.”

  Another impregnated moment of silence ticked by, and Julianna prayed it was the end of the questioning.

  “What about your . . . your mother?” Mr. Ramsey honed his gaze in on her.

  Julianna wanted to squirm. “Sadly, she died shortly after giving birth to me. I never knew her either.”

  “Oh, you poor thing.” Mrs. Ramsey reached over and patted Julianna’s hand. “Raised in an orphanage?”

  “No.” Unfortunately, she added silently.

  Mr. Ramsey removed his handkerchief and dabbed it across his perspiring forehead.

  “George?” The captain leaned toward him. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, George . . . ” Mrs. Ramsey peered at him with concern etched alongside the corners of her eyes. “You do look a bit ashen.”

  “I’m fine.” He waved off further attention. “A bit of a sour stomach. Eating breakfast should help.”

  “The maid will bring it out shortly, dear.” Mrs. Ramsey sent him a weak smile then turned to Julianna. “So you were raised by your older sister then?”

  “No, ma’am. Mr. and Mrs. Bartholomew Potter raised me and Flora. They’re the ones who owned the store Mum worked in. When she died, the Potters took us in.”

  “What kind of shop?” Mrs. Ramsey sipped her coffee.

  “Mending and laundering. Mum was a seamstress, and Mrs. Potter said I got me gift of sewing from her.”

  “How nice.” Mrs. Ramsey set down her delicate porcelain cup. “It’s just a pity you never met a trustworthy man in London.” She smiled. “But I imagine our Daniel was a gentleman during your voyage.”

  “Oh, yes. A true gentleman in every sense of the word.”

  Mrs. Ramsey beamed with motherly pride, and Julianna coveted the fact that the captain had two families. She’d never had a one. The Potters, as good as they’d been to take her and Flora in, were never nurturing, caring parents. They were more like loyal employers, and together, the four of them hardly resembled a family—not like the ones Julianna had observed while growing up.

  But it was too late for that now anyway. A family wasn’t in her future. She loved a man she could never marry—the one sitting across from her at this most appealing breakfast table on this gorgeous morning. And she accepted the painful truth. All she hoped for was a lasting job on the captain’s family farm—his other family. She hoped for a place at which she could work respectably the rest of her days.

  “Oh, Daniel, you must bring Julianna to Mabel Brunning’s home tonight. We’re all invited to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of her contributing to Scientific American magazine.” Mrs. Ramsey leaned over to Julianna. “Mabel is quite liberated for a woman.”

  “Rebellious is what she is,” Mr. Ramsey sputtered.

  His wife pulled her shoulders back. “Nevertheless, George, it’s an honor to be invited.” Mrs. Ramsey shifted her gaze to the captain. “When Mabel learned your ship arrived, she extended the invitation to you, Daniel, and it’s just assumed you’ll bring a guest.” Mrs. Ramsey’s eyes lit on Julianna.

  Mr. Ramsey’s hand shook slightly as he brought his cup to his lips.

  “I think, perhaps, Miss Wayland might be too exhausted from her journey to go out tonight.” Captain Sundberg gave Julianna a pointed stare.

  “Yes, I am a tired.” Disappointment welled up inside of her.

  “You can take a nap this afternoon.” Mrs. Ramsey smiled at her own suggestion. “And I’ll do the same. With some rest we’ll both feel refreshed for our evening out.”

  Julianna couldn’t help but match the gesture. “I’d actually enjoy an outing. Today is my birthday.”

  “Your birthday?” The captain’s features puckered, but then softened as his memory obviously served him correctly. “That’s right. You mentioned something about it at the onset of our voyage.”

  Mr. Ramsey eyed Julianna with suspicion. “Today . . . the twenty-second day of June . . . is your birthday?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Ramsey drew in his bottom lip, looking thoughtful for several long moments. “Let me guess . . . you’re . . . twenty?”

  “Why, yes!” She felt awed. “Most people can’t guess me age. Since I’m rather small in stature, they guess I’m younger than I really am.” Julianna noticed the man’s sudden sickly pallor. “Mr. Ramsey, are you feeling all right?”

  He stood and slapped his linen napkin on the table. “Daniel, I want to speak with you in my study.”

  Mrs. Ramsey sucked in a surprised breath.

  “Now!”

  Daniel paced the fine Persian rug in George’s richly paneled study. Bookshelves lined one wall. He wondered what had gone so terribly wrong just now. True, Julianna liked to chatter, but she hadn’t lied. She hadn’t divulged the whole truth, but she hadn’t told any falsehoods.

  “This can’t be happening,” George muttered.

  Daniel paused and cast a curious glance at his benefactor. “What can’t be happening?”

  “That young woman . . . ” George held his hand over his heart and dropped into one of two black leather chairs near the hearth. “Has she made any demands?”

  “Demands?”

  “Money? Property?”

  “What in the world are you talking about?” Daniel crossed the room and slowly seated himself in the other chair. He deemed it reckoning time. “Look, George, I’ll be honest. Julianna got on board the Allegiance totally by accident.”

  “Bah! Some accident.”

  With a sigh Daniel leaned back in his chair and relayed the specifics to George. How Julianna arrived in his office, a stowaway and badly beaten. She’d been in the elderly Tolbert’s employ but had been running from his son, who undoubtedly had dubious plans for her, and hid in a crate, which had been loaded onto the ship.

  “And you believed that tripe?” George’s face reddened.

  “Not at first.” He recalled his fear that she might be there to steal the Old Master paintings. But yesterday he’d delivered them safely to the museum in New York, and now in retrospect his concerns seemed ludicrous.

  “Oh?” George tipped his head.

  “I found no reason not to believe her. What’s more, my officers and our cook found her truthful, even delightful.” He recalled Kidwell’s moon eyes whenever he gazed at Julianna. Days ago Kidwell’s disappointment had been evident after Daniel told him the news that she’d be coming with him to Manitowoc, where she’d work off her passage.

  But of course Daniel wanted Julianna to start off with the best of everything she’d need to begin a new life. She’d endured enough hardship in her young life. She deserved a chance at a comfortable future, although he suspected it wouldn’t be long before she had a proposal of marriage that suited her.

  Envy nipped at him, and he recalled the way she looked minutes ago in her new clothes. She was lovelier than he’d ever seen or imagined—and she seldom left his thoughts for long.

  “Daniel?”

  He jerked from his musing. “I beg your pardon, George. As you were saying?”

  “No, son, as you were saying.” He eyed him speculatively. “Don’t tell me you’re smitten.”

  “Smitten?” Daniel grinned. “I should say not.” Obsessed might be the better word. But he dared not convey his true feelings to George. “Oh, and by the way, you’ll be pleased to know that Countess Reagan Carghill and I got along famously. We’ll make a suitable match.” A piece of his heart withered as he spoke the words.

  “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “I thought you’d be glad to hear it.”

  “Under different circumstances, I would be.” George leaned forward. “We have a crisis on our hands!”

  Daniel shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “That Wayland girl!” George stood and resumed the pacing that Daniel left off. “When she walked onto the terrace this morning, I felt like I was seeing a ghost. A ghost from my past.”

  Prickles of une
ase moved up Daniel’s spine. “Your past, George?”

  “She looks just like her mother, Phoebe. Phoebe Wayland.” An expression of wistfulness fell over his features. “And her first name, Julianna . . . it was my mother’s name. Phoebe knew that. She knew everything about me. I loved her with all my heart, but my father . . . ” George shook his head as he gazed at the carpet. “He would have never approved of a match between us.”

  Daniel sprang to his feet. “What are you saying?” He thought back to all the times this father figure of a man had warned him about getting involved with the “wrong kind of woman” and how his actions could lead to scandal and catastrophe. But it never occurred to him that George might have warned him from his own personal experience.

  Slowly George faced him. “From what she has said, I have good reason to believe that . . . that Julianna Wayland is my daughter.”

  CHAPTER 10

  A ND THIS ENTIRE thing smacks of an extortion plot!”

  Daniel slowly sank back into his chair. Did it? Could he have been that fooled?

  Not a chance!

  “Maybe that insolent Captain Tolbert put her up to it.”

  “I don’t believe the man has the intelligence, let alone the motive. His father has plenty of money.”

  “Then her sister . . . even at five years old that girl was a lot of trouble, as I recall. Once she stole coins from me while I napped, the little scamp—took them right out of my pocket. Perhaps Flora put Julianna up to it.”

  Daniel felt too stunned to let the idea sink in. “Flora? She knew you, George? Knew your name?”

  “I’m not sure.” Additional drops of perspiration spotted George’s forehead as he continued pacing. “Phoebe had a nickname for me. Christopher Columbus. It was the name of my ship. Flora always used it to address me.”

  “The only problem is—”

  “Yes?” George paused.

  “If Flora knew that you’re Julianna’s father, why didn’t she try this trick sooner? After their guardians were killed, both Julianna and Flora wound up living on the streets of London before gaining meaningful employment. For nearly two years they begged for each coin they had and every meal they ate.”

  “That’s about the last thing I want to hear. Don’t you think I feel guilty enough?”

  Daniel eyed him. “How would I know that, George?” He felt like he didn’t know this man at all.

  George blotted his forehead with his handkerchief. “Phoebe suspected she was with child when I last saw her that gloomy November day. I promised I’d be back come springtime.” He shook his head. “But I never made it. My father had arranged my marriage to a wealthy ship-builder’s daughter.”

  “Eliza?”

  “Yes, and I was to take over Ramsey Enterprises, which I did.

  Years later I found myself back in London. I went to the shop where Phoebe had worked as a seamstress, but ownership had changed and no one knew her. I wanted to ask at the pubs along the wharf that we frequented. However, by then I couldn’t risk my good name by entering such establishments.”

  “It would have been worth the risk, George.” Disappointment knotted in Daniel’s gut. “Your daughter nearly starved on the streets of London. God only knows what could have happened to her. She was but sixteen years old.”

  “Stop it, Daniel!”

  He refused. “It’s a wonder Julianna survived with any semblance of moral decency—and, yes, I have found her to be morally decent in more ways than one.”

  “Hmm . . . ” George arched a brow. “If she’s telling the truth.”

  He made a good point. Still, Daniel felt sure he would have seen through any charade by now.

  He stood. “Julianna is on the up and up, George. What’s more, I highly doubt Flora put her up to something even resembling extortion. I’ve sailed in and out of London many times in years past. There are enough ruffians on the wharf who are willing to hold a sea captain for ransom. Flora could have easily gone that route if money had been her objective.”

  “True enough.” George sounded defeated.

  But Daniel wasn’t through. “I don’t think Julianna is even aware that you could be her father.” He walked to the window and opened it wider, reveling in the gentle breeze that greeted him. “She’s rather naïve for her twenty years.” She so obviously needed someone to watch over her, protect her.

  “Bah!” George squared his shoulders. “A street-wise imp? Naïve? I can’t believe it.”

  Daniel stepped farther into the room. “She’s been working hard to rescue her sister from an unseemly lifestyle. I doubt Julianna would have ever left her had she not been accidentally loaded into the Allegiance that fateful day.” He reclaimed his leather chair, preparing himself to heap another weighty truth on George. “I convinced her not to return to London.”

  “What?” George gave that hawkish stare that bespoke of his displeasure. “Why?”

  Daniel wasn’t deterred. “Julianna can make a fresh start here in America. I’ve decided to take her to Wisconsin. I received word that my father is ill. My mother can probably use Julianna’s help.”

  “Wisconsin?” George looked stunned for a moment, and then a smile broke through. “Good, good . . . ”

  “Good?” Daniel’s brows shot up. He’d expected to have more of a tussle on his hands.

  “Actually, it’s a brilliant plan, my boy!” George’s countenance brightened. “Wisconsin is a safe distance from New York City. We may, in fact, avoid a scandal.”

  “Only if she knows she’s your daughter and talks.”

  “You mustn’t tell her.”

  “All right.” He could, at least, temporarily agree to it.

  “Meanwhile I’ll hire the best detectives that London has to offer. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “We’ll leave Monday morning, George.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  Thirty minutes later Daniel walked back onto the terrace to find Julianna sitting alone at the table. She picked at the food on her plate.

  “Please forgive George and me for our hasty exits.” He shrugged. “Business.”

  “Oh.” She visibly relaxed. “Here I thought maybe I’d said something wrong.”

  “No.” If she only knew!

  Julianna’s gaze slid to Eliza’s empty chair. “Mrs. Ramsey went upstairs to lie down, but she’s determined to attend the party tonight.”

  “How do you feel about that—the party, I mean?” As a housemaid from London she might be intimidated around some of New York City’s more prominent citizens.

  “I feel fine. Excited, actually.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I know how to behave too, because I’ve watched Mr. Tolbert’s guests and mimicked their behavior in jest. I can do it for real tonight.”

  Her answer surprised him—although it shouldn’t have. He grinned.

  She returned his smile. “Besides, Mrs. Ramsey said Mabel Brunning is quite unconventional.”

  Daniel raised his brows. “Indeed.” He’d met the older woman several times in the past and had even succumbed to one of her interminable interviews.

  “Mrs. Brunning will likely accept me despite me lowly background. But, you know . . . ” Julianna shook her head, threatening her carefully pinned curls. “We really don’t have to go. I guess I got a bit overenthusiastic.”

  “Nonsense. It’s your birthday.” He sat down. “Have you ever had a birthday party?”

  “Well wishes, mostly.” She rolled a shoulder. “Although since Flora began working at the Mariner’s Pub, there’s always been some drunken sailor willing to lift another glass of ale in m’ behalf.”

  “Tonight there will be none of that.” Daniel felt indignant for her. “Tonight I’ll show you a proper celebration. I highly doubt Mrs. Brunning will mind if we use her auspicious occasion to celebrate yours as well.” He grinned. “How does that sound?”

  “Proper? I can only imagine how that’ll be.” Julianna’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Once
more, I’m grateful to you, Captain. Thank you.”

  “It’s entirely my pleasure.” Daniel forced his attention away from her sweet, smiling face. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine tonight. You, um, seem to have adequate table manners despite your upbringing.”

  “If I do it’s because of Cook—that’s what everyone in the Tolbert household called her. I don’t even know her first name.” A little laugh bubbled out, causing Daniel to grin. “She was full of starch and vinegar, that one! But if we wanted our supper, we had to use the correct utensils. Why, Cook would slap her wooden spoon against our knuckles if she caught us using our fingers.”

  Daniel arched a brow. “I take it you were a quick study.”

  “Extremely.”

  His grin widening, he stared out over the terrace. “Beautiful morning.”

  “Oh, it is. It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” Julianna set down her fork. “Me birthday has already been a special one.”

  “My birthday,” he corrected. “You’re going to need to practice talking like we Americans do.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He glanced over in time to see her gray eyes shining with gratitude even before the next words came from her mouth.

  “How will I ever repay you, Captain?”

  “None is required.” How could he think to charge her? He took a peculiar delight in seeing her fashionably attired and happy.

  “But—”

  Daniel reached over and pressed his finger against her soft lips. “Never mind such talk of repayment on your birthday. It’s a day of gifts, is it not?”

  Smiling, she clasped his hand in both of hers. Her expression resembled a childlike joy.

  There’s no way she’s got extortion on her mind.

  Julianna released his hand just as the maid appeared with another plate of eggs, potatoes, and a thick piece of ham. Spreading his napkin across his lap, he began eating and noticed that Julianna picked less and ate more since he’d sat down with her. He thought it would do her some good to get a little meat on her too-thin frame.

  “This certainly beats Kidwell’s cooking any day,” Daniel joked.

  Julianna laughed again, a light, fluttery sound so infectious it made Daniel smile. “You’re right about Jeremy’s cooking. To his credit, he tried hard, and I’m sure the meals could have been worse, eh?”