Descending the wooden walkway from the ship to the quay, Rose surveyed the sprawling city with amazement. From the accounts she’d read in the English newspapers, she’d expected the ports to be little more than provincial villages. Yet from this high vantage point, she could see rows and rows of substantial buildings stretching inland. On either side of the Seaford Lady a veritable forest of masts jutted up from their moorings, while seagulls circled and darted low, their cries piercing the salt-laden air.
The wharf itself teemed with as much activity as any Bristol dock. Such clamor greeted her after so long at sea, and such an array of smells. Loaded wagons rumbled and groaned beneath heavy loads as they rattled across the wooden planks. Horses clomped and whinnied, while their drivers yelled curses and hawkers shouted their wares. Rose had to smile. On a wharf, every day was market day.
Unable to find her sisters in the crowd, she stepped aside for dockworkers busily off-loading the ship, while a customs agent inspected the cargo manifest. Amid all the hustle and bustle, red-coated king’s men kept order. This new land was every bit as civilized as her own England, Rose concluded. She relaxed and took a deep breath, catching her favorite smell, a whiff of the hundreds of hard rolls being baked to supply the outgoing ships.
Rose’s gaze lighted on a cluster of men dressed in the attire of tradesmen and merchants. In the center stood Captain Durning and her sisters. She hardly recognized the man, decked out in his best powdered wig, ruffles, and feathered, three-cornered hat. Obviously he wanted to impress the more simply dressed gathering. How sad that his ill-fitting coat puckered between its brass buttons, spoiling the image. With curt motions, he beckoned Rose to join them.
Hesitant to leave the safety of the ship, she waited for the captain’s more insistent gestures. When she could delay no longer, she moved toward him…toward a very uncertain future. Her pulse quickened upon reaching the landing. Have faith. The Lord is looking after us. Papa always said that—even when the opposite seemed true. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way through the gathering to join her sisters.
Captain Durning leaned close, looking none too happy with her. “Tardiness is not a virtue,” he rasped into her ear. He pursed his thick lips and stepped onto a platform made of sturdy boards placed on nail kegs. Head and shoulders above the crowd, he scanned his customers as his loud voice rang out. “Gentlemen! As I promised, I have saved the choicest for last. These three young lasses have been schooled in all the social graces, as well as the art of fine cooking. They can also read and do sums. Any one of ’em would make an ideal lady’s companion or children’s governess.”
“Put up the one in blue,” a portly man hollered. He wore no frock coat, merely an unadorned vest over his blouse as if he’d just come from a trades shop. “I’ll bid on her.”
“I’ll expect a starting bid of no less than twenty-five pounds for this one.” The captain reached down to help Mariah onto the stage.
Rose’s gasp went unheard beneath the audience’s appreciative comments as they ogled Mariah, who stood up there for all to see. The miser had begrudged Papa the mere six pounds he’d shelled out for Mariah. For Lily he’d refused to go higher than five—scarcely more than a half a pound a year. Out of that stingy sum, their good father had sacrificed two pounds to each of his daughters in the event some calamity should befall them. And this vile man intended to profit a despicable fourfold!
A sudden realization penetrated Rose’s consciousness. The captain was offering Mariah separately. This was not to be borne! He’d promised all of them and Papa that he’d keep them together. “Captain Durning!” She raised her voice above the confusion. “You agreed to sell us as a family.”
Ignoring her protests, he went on with the proceedings. “What do I hear for a first bid?”
“I’ll give ye twenty pounds,” the portly fellow said. “Not a pence more.”
“Twenty-one,” another yelled.
“Twenty-two,” shouted yet another.
Rose shot a look at Mariah. The girl’s eyes fairly danced, and a half smile graced her lips. For some unfathomable reason she actually seemed to be enjoying her moment onstage. All the more incentive for Rose to take further action. She stepped directly in front of the captain and raised her voice. “Mister Durning! I shall be forced to call the authorities if you do not honor the agreement you made with our father.”
The man’s florid complexion darkened. His eyes narrowed menacingly as he leaned toward her and thrust a clenched fist beneath her nose. “We have no written contract, wench. I’ll thank ye to keep yer mouth shut.”
Rose felt Lily edge closer, and the girl’s small hands clutched Rose’s arm. She could not let the child or her other sister down. Her own hands curled into fists. “And I’ll thank you to honor your word as a gentleman, sir.”
His mouth twisted into a smirk, and he jutted out his fleshy neck. “What we have, shrew, is yer name on a legal document that says I have the right to sell the three of ye to whomever I please. And if ye don’t keep quiet, I’ll have ye locked in the hold of me ship until I’ve completed the rest of me business.”
“Not before I summon the port authorities.” Rose whirled around. The blackguard would see she was no ignorant street urchin.
“Good sirs,” the captain cried, “lay hold of this baggage and hold her whilst I fetch my men.”
No sooner had the request been voiced than two men clamped hands on to her, pinning her in place.
She tried to wrench free, but to no avail. Far worse, the ruffians seemed to enjoy their task most thoroughly. “Don’t fret, Cap’n,” one of the audacious pair called brightly. “We’ll see the lass stays put.”
“And I’ll see you and your manhandling cohorts brought up before the magistrate,” Rose countered with equal force. She then felt a tugging on her ruffled half sleeve.
“Please, Rose,” Lily urged. “Don’t say anything more. They’ll take you away.”
Rose’s heart went out to her baby sister. Only the men restraining her prevented her from pulling the girl into her arms. Looking beyond Lily to Mariah, she saw that her other sister’s attention was occupied elsewhere. Up on the platform, Mariah’s bold stare was fixed on a young, raven-haired gentleman on the outskirts of the crowd. He sat astride a long-legged bay.
Wearing naught but a loose shirt and tight breeches tucked into tall boots, the smoothly tanned man was as handsome as Mariah was beautiful. And he beheld her with the same blatant interest.
Flirting! Rose acknowledged. The pair of them! How disgraceful!
The young man did not take his eyes off Mariah. “I’ll bid thirty pounds on the beauty in the blue frock.”
The gathering grew quiet. The gentleman had bid quite a tidy sum for a mere four years of household servitude…if that was all he thought he was purchasing.
“Thirty-one,” came from another quarter.
Grinning lazily, the horseman hooked his leg over his saddle’s pommel, as if prepared to stay for the duration. “Forty.”
At the enormous bid, murmurings of amazement spread through the crowd. Then expectant silence. All eyes turned toward the challenger—another young jack-a-dandy. At his shrug of defeat, attention shifted to the man who’d opened the bidding.
He rubbed a hand over his paunch and looked from Mariah to the young mounted gentleman. His expression soured and his bushy brows formed a V over his slitted eyes. He did not take kindly to losing.
Observing his stubborn glare, Rose suspected him to be the sort who would be an abuser of servants. She held her breath and sent a fleeting prayer heavenward that the older man would concede.
Abruptly, he grunted and stomped off, shoving past anyone in his path.
“Sold!” The captain’s triumphant shout grated on Rose’s frayed nerves. He sounded more than pleased with himself and his good fortune. “To the gentleman on the fine stallion.”
The man laughed and spurred his mount forward. Edging the animal alongside the makeshift platform, he scooped
up a very willing Mariah, whose arms were already outstretched and waiting.
Rose fumed. The hussy. Furious, she broke free from her captors’ grasps and lunged toward her sister, grabbing a handful of Mariah’s stiff taffeta skirt. “Come down from there this instant.”
“Miss Harwood has a point. Set the lass down.”
The captain’s words surprised Rose. Renewed hope flowed through her.
“Ye’ll not be taking her anywhere until there’s hard cash in me hand and ye put yer signature on the indenturement.” He slid a satisfied glance to Rose. “Everything proper and legal.”
Rose could not abide such a display of impudence. He should be thrashed. She jerked once more on her sister’s blue taffeta.
Mariah gifted the handsome rider with an apologetic smile then complied by allowing him to lower her to the ground, which he did much too slowly.
So appalled she could not speak, Rose tugged Mariah to a spot between her and Lily. But before she could deliver a scathing reprimand, the captain seized Lily beneath the arms and deposited her on the platform.
“There ye go, child,” he said sternly.
Rose’s heart jolted as her sister’s eyes grew round with fright and her face lost all color. Hiking her skirts, Rose stepped a foot onto the stage. “Mr. Durning. Lily and I must be sold together. She’s far too young to go forth alone. I beg you to reconsider.”
Durning booted her foot off the platform. “Stay put and hold yer tongue, or I swear I’ll clap ye in chains and sell ye in another port a few days’ sail from here.”
Rose ignored the vehemence in that statement and met his glare. She would not be intimidated by this blighter of honest dealings.
Gradually his expression eased, and he glanced away. “If someone wants the both of ye, he’ll not be prevented from bidding on yerself next. In the meantime, I advise ye to mind yer manners.” He placed an arm around Lily and ushered her a few steps farther away.
Shy, timid Lily pleaded silently with Rose, her soft silvery eyes clouded with fear.
Rose had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from crying out. This was all wrong. So wrong. The villainous captain had lied to her, to Papa. To all of them.
Durning again raised his voice to the gathering growing steadily in the midmorning sun. “This young lass is also of the merchant class. She’s had the finest education a maiden of her advantages could receive. She can read and write and has been taught all the latest stitchery designs. She’s a good-natured girl and quick to learn.”
Unable to bear so many eyes upon her, Lily slid behind the captain.
He dragged her forward again, this time holding her in place with a firm grip. “She may look a bit frail, I’ll avow,” he went on, “but I assure ye she didn’t suffer a day of illness on the long voyage here. She’s—”
“The little thing don’t look like she’d stand up to much hard work,” someone behind Rose challenged. “But I’ll give ten pounds for her—if her teeth are sound.”
Durning took hold of Lily’s chin. “Open your mouth, girl. Let’s have a look.”
“How dare you!” Utterly insulted by the blackguard’s thoughtless ill treatment of her poor sister and humiliated for her as well, Rose hoisted herself onto the stage, only to be immediately plucked off by the same ruffians who had restrained her moments before. She had no choice but to stand by as the younger girl closed her lashes over tears. Helplessly she watched them roll down her sister’s pale cheeks. Her own followed suit.
Durning made a show of peering into Lily’s mouth then smiled with benign assurance. “As perfect as the queen’s own pearls, I must say.”
“Ten pounds, one shilling.”
The firm but gentle voice came from quite near Rose. Swiping the moisture from her eyes, she noted that this man did not wear the tailored clothing of a city businessman. Wearing plain-spun and simply made attire, he was rather tall and lean, with a build similar to that of their father. He had a kind face.
“Ten and two shillings,” came from the vile man who’d wanted to see Lily’s teeth.
Frowning, the man beside Rose reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of funds. He opened his hand, displaying a heavily calloused palm filled with paper and coin, which she counted silently along with him. Ten and six. He stepped forward. “Ten pounds, three shillings.”
His competitor spoke again. “Eleven pounds. That’s my final offer.”
The gentle-voiced man’s shoulders sagged. He glanced at Rose, his disappointment unmistakable. “I was hoping I could get a nice young girl like her for my Susan. She’s been poorly for quite a spell now.” He turned to leave.
The mere thought of the teeth-inspecting reprobate taking Lily away, having her at his mercy, was more than Rose could accept. She reached out and caught the kind-faced man’s sleeve. “Bid more. Please.”
He smiled sadly down at her. “I would if I could, miss. Alas, I cannot.”
Before he finished speaking, Rose had one of her two precious pounds out of her small purse. She pressed it into his hands. “Please.”
Moments later, to her everlasting gratification, she heard the captain award dear Lily to the gentle-faced man. She breathed a quick prayer of thanks. Her baby sister had been properly placed in a good home.
“Hie thyself up here, wench.” Captain Durning’s voice lacked even a smidgen of gentleness.
Consumed by concern for Lily, Rose had forgotten her own turn would come. She refused to budge.
The two ruffians hooted with laughter and hoisted her onto the platform.
She swung around to give them a piece of her mind but met only more guffaws and clapping from the onlookers. She’d become a spectacle. The morning’s entertainment. How she wished she had contracted with a different ship’s captain, but it was far too late for remorse. She clamped her jaws together and faced the lying, cheating peddler of flesh who had betrayed her trust.
As the laughter faded, Durning’s singsong rang out across the crowd. “Now if ye want a full day’s labor for yer money, this spinster here is the one ye’re lookin’ for. The female’s five and twenty. In her prime. She’s run an entire household since she was thirteen. Raised her four sisters and brothers, and ye’ve all seen how at least two of those lasses turned out.” He cocked an eyebrow for emphasis.
Rose was sorely tempted to announce that she would give no buyer more than eleven pounds’ worth of labor during the next four years—the six that Captain Durning paid her and five for the expense of her passage. She loathed the thought of that cur profiting any more than he already had. But no doubt the captain would lock her in the hold and carry out his threat. Should he cart her off to a different port, there’d be no way of keeping track of Mariah and Lily. How could she endure that? They needed her. Especially Mariah, whether or not the flirt would agree.
With her mind in such turmoil, it took a moment for Rose to become aware that every man within twenty yards was staring at her. Scores of eyes raked her from head to toe and back again. The prospective buyers nodded and chatted amongst themselves. A few pointed as they discussed her attributes.
These strangers in this strange land…appraising her worth.
Rose had never felt so exposed in her life. Or so helpless.
Chapter 3
The wench’s sisters may have virtues enough,” a bystander hollered. “But this one’s got the tongue of a fishwife!”
Laughter again erupted from the men gawking at Rose. They’d become a merry crowd, and at her expense. She struggled to retain what little dignity remained to her. If honoring a promise to one’s parent and protecting one’s family was termed being a “fishwife,” so be it. She searched around for the two girls.
Lily stood near her new master, gazing up at Rose with heartfelt sympathy.
Mariah, however, seemed not in the least offended by the derisive levity aimed at her older sister. Her smile was as broad as anyone else’s as she and her fancy gentleman-owner stood beside his elegant horse.
Once the revelry died down, the captain continued his spiel. “Ye’ve merely seen the woman act the way of any mother hen worth its feathers. She’s tryin’ to keep her little chicks tucked beneath her wings. Of the three of ’em, I’d say she’s by far the most experienced worker.” He paused. “Now, who’ll give me a startin’ bid?”
A newcomer attired in a gold-trimmed burgundy frock coat shouldered between two other prospective customers standing just below Rose. “I need to look over them hands of hers.”
Rose was tempted to refuse, considering his request was only a little less degrading than being asked to display her teeth. Yet from the man’s dress and expression, he appeared quite successful and even earnest, especially compared to the more seedy types who made up much of the gathering. She held out her trembling palms as he and several onlookers crowded closer to examine them.
“Look pretty soft to me,” one commented.
“Aye,” someone else agreed. “All three of them sisters are wearin’ right fine frocks. Mayhap the lasses are more used to givin’ orders than takin’ ’em.”
The captain let out a huff of disgust. “’Tis true, the Harwoods come from excellent stock on t’other side of the water. To see any of ’em put to work as mere scrubwomen would be a pure waste. This one in particular is accomplished in preparin’ tasty foods. She can put every spice ever brought to the British Isles to proper use.”
Rose found the captain’s praise of her talents a bit excessive; nevertheless, she appreciated his generous words on her behalf. Cooking indeed had been the one household duty she truly enjoyed and had never relinquished to a servant.
A shout came from the left. “Fifteen pounds. A good English cook beats any of those Frenchies hired by folks over on the Potomac. Can’t abide their runny sauces.”
“Sixteen,” another called out.
“Seventeen.”
“Eighteen.”
“Nineteen.”
Bids came in such swift succession Rose could no longer ascertain the individuals speaking. Glancing at the captain, she realized the insufferable toad was actually deriving a perverse sort of pleasure from her distress. She clamped her teeth together, determined to bear the shameful outrage with fortitude.
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 3