The Lady's Blessing

by Liz Botts

  A bird dove into the water near the hull of the ship. I leaned over the edge to get a better view. The creature emerged bedraggled but triumphant, with a squirming fish in its beak. Something about the scene brought tears to my eyes. As I tried to figure out what exactly bothered me, I was distracted by Mrs. Saunders’s return.

  “Come along,” she said. “We should get settled in before the ship sets sail. We will see to food once we are rested.”

  I hugged my quilt-wrapped bundle to my chest and followed her yet again. Weariness dogged my footsteps as we reentered the little hallway. To my surprise, we walked to the door at the end of the corridor and entered a much more spacious cabin. Though a single berth stood in one corner, it appeared big enough for both Mrs. Saunders and me to sleep comfortably. The space, though, made my breath stutter. Unlike the first cabin, which had barely had enough room for the two small cots, this one had a table with two small chairs, a writing desk, and a small wardrobe. I reveled in the luxurious surroundings.

  Setting my belongings down on the table, I turned expectantly to Mrs. Saunders. “This is a lovely cabin, but how…?”

  Mrs. Saunders smiled. “True gentlemen know to keep a lady happy.”

  Puzzled by her statement, but unsure I wanted to appear stupid, I pulled the corners of my mouth upward in a smile. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as words pushed against the back of my throat but refused to come out.

  “That Lord Blessington will make a fine leader when his time comes.” Mrs. Saunders moved to her satchel, which she had laid on the bed.

  For a moment I balked. Setting up residence in this cabin signified the next phase of my life, and I was not sure that I wanted to embark on that journey. Slowly I set my bundle down on the bed beside Mrs. Saunders’s things.

  “Shall I put your things away, dearie?”

  “No!” The word tore from me before I could stop it. At the look of surprise on Mrs. Saunders’s face, I took a deep breath. “Pardon me. These things are just… just special to me. Perhaps I can put them away by myself?”

  Mrs. Saunders chuckled and patted my arm. “Of course you can. If you want me to help, just let me know. The wardrobe is all yours, dearie.”

  “Oh, I do not think I will need all that space. Perhaps just a drawer. I was not able to bring much with me.” My legs wobbled as I crossed the room.

  “It might take you a bit of time to get your sea legs. Once you do, it should not bother you all that much.” Mrs. Saunders took some clothing out of her case.

  After I placed Mama’s Bible and other things in the drawer, I smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt. When I looked around the cabin again, I wondered how I would handle being cooped up in this place for the months that we were at sea. At least there was a small circular window that let light in.

  “Have you traveled by sea before?”

  I turned toward the woman who was to be my companion for the next few months. When I tried to form a sentence, the words choked in my throat. My present situation would never have come about if it had not been for the militiamen who slaughtered my mother. Blackness descended. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes and threatened to spill down my cheeks. Would these memories always give me such a visceral reaction? I pleaded with the Lord above to put me out of my misery.

  “There, there now, dearie.” A moment later I felt pillowy arms encircling me. They felt so different from Mama’s arms. She had been thin, almost bony from all the lean years in the frontier.

  Consumed by my sobs, I allowed myself to be comforted, but only for a short time. Father would expect me to act as a young lady, and fits and tantrums were not becoming to such a position. A bitterness I hadn’t expected rolled over me. I actually felt angry at Father, which stunned me out of my grief. Anger was not a feeling I was accustomed to, although these past few weeks had taught me a lifetime of lessons about the emotion.

  Wiping my eyes, I said, “Thank you. I do appreciate your sympathy. To answer your question, I have never traveled anywhere, let alone by sea. My father used to command a naval vessel such as this before he took the post at the fort.”

  Mrs. Saunders nodded. “Indeed. I know your father well. I used to serve as cook and laundress at the fort. Your father is a kind man.”

  I made a noncommittal noise because at the moment I did not feel charitable toward my father, but I did not want to upset this lovely woman. Mrs. Saunders continued to chatter about her life at the fort, and what had called her back to London, but I stopped listening. Despite the fact that such an action proved me very rude, I could not pay attention to save my life. My mind kept wandering back to Mama and how much I missed her.

  The unfairness of my situation continued to color my vision of present circumstances. Then a thought popped into my head that made me stop mid-pace around the cabin and blink at the space in the bright light from the window. I was on a ship headed out to sea. James and I had dreamed of such adventures when we were little and Father would regale us with tales of life on the open water. Now I would get to live out the fantasy. Too bad I wanted nothing more than my old life in a small cabin in the woods.

  A knock at the door drew me back to the present even more firmly. Mrs. Saunders received our visitor, and I was pleased to see that it was Lord Blessington. My heartbeat pounded in my ears at the sight of him. While Mrs. Saunders greeted him, I turned away so he would not see the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck. What was wrong with me? How could one swing from one emotion to another in such a short span of time? I did not understand what was happening to me in the least.

  “I shall see that the captain’s cook has your meals delivered to your cabin before the crew eats. If there is anything at all that I can do for you ladies, please be sure to let me know.”

  I looked up to find Lord Blessington staring at me. When our eyes met, he coughed and looked away. My stomach fluttered, and I was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the ship tossing on the waves.

  Chapter Six

  Mrs. Saunders’s soft snores punctuated the gentle sound of lapping waves. The ship rocked slowly from side to side. Over the past two weeks I had found the motion lulled me to sleep without much fuss, but tonight I could not settle in. Thoughts of Mama and Father and James crowded my mind. The waking nightmares were so much worse than the ones that typically came at night. As time wore on, memories of that horrible, fateful day began to return. Tonight, though, grief weighed heavily on my heart.

  Giving up on sleep, I slipped out of bed and wrapped my quilt around me for warmth. A salty breeze caressed my face as I stepped out on the deck. The moon hung round in the sky, casting silvery light on the ship and the sea. All in all, the change in scenery nearly banished the haunting thoughts. Nothing could harm me here. The Americans were far away, and with each day we moved closer to England and the safety of my grandparents’ estate.

  I leaned against the side of the ship, gazing into the dark water, indigo ripples providing mystery that sparked my imagination. As I pictured the creatures that might be just below the surface, the rest of my stress melted away. If only I could sleep on the deck, I might be able to get some rest. Unfortunately I knew that would never be an option.

  “Lady Felicity, what are you doing out here by yourself at this time of night?”

  Startled, I turned toward the sound of the familiar voice. My heart hammered in my ears, and I felt the heat of a blush rise on my neck. Thankful for the darkness, I turned back toward the water.

  “I could not sleep,” I said.

  “You should not be out alone at night,” Lord Blessington said, leaning against the rail beside me. “Any number of things could befall you.”

  I cast a sideways glance at him. “I did not think Mrs. Saunders would appreciate me waking her for a stroll around the deck. She values her sleep.”

  We lapsed into silence. The wind ceased, leaving a warm evening in its place. Finally I said, “I thought some fresh air would help me clear my head.”

  Lord Blessi
ngton drummed his fingers along the railing. “How are you finding the voyage thus far, my lady?”

  “Lonely.” I had not intended to confess such a thought, but once the word was spoken, I felt a flood of relief wash over me.

  “Lonely?” Lord Blessington echoed. “Has Mrs. Saunders proven a bad companion?”

  “No. No. I adore her. She is wonderful… but no one else speaks to me. I feel invisible.” My voice trembled slightly. I had no doubt that sharing such intimate confessions with a man I barely knew was taboo. It had been so long, though, since I had felt comfortable talking to another person.

  “It is highly unusual to have a woman on board,” Lord Blessington said. “Some of the men are quite superstitious about it. They all respect your father a great deal, though, so the exception was made willingly. I can speak to the captain and the wardroom officers, if you’d like. Perhaps you’d like to dine with them occasionally.”

  I nodded, but the information did not change the way I felt. Lord Blessington shifted toward me, and suddenly I was acutely aware of his presence. I had never been alone with a man other than my father and brother, and despite my inexperience, Lord Blessington certainly seemed more desirable than most. I felt the heat of embarrassment color my cheeks again as I tried to banish the highly inappropriate thoughts.

  “Call me Graham,” he said, “at least when we are alone. Perhaps that will help you feel less lonely.”

  A new kind of warmth spread through my body. “Then you must call me Felicity,” I said. “Or Fliss. That is what my family calls me.”

  Graham nodded. Just thinking of him by his given name gave me a small thrill.

  “Good night, Felicity. I suggest we both get some rest.” He smiled at me, and his eyes glinted in the moonlight.

  I stood in the warm night, watching him walk away, and my heart thrummed in my breast. As I snuggled down in bed, my mind was full of Graham’s blue eyes and kind soul.

  When I awoke the next morning, Mrs. Saunders had already risen, so I had the bed and the room to myself. I stretched, and stared at the ceiling without really seeing the wooden beams crisscrossing the space above me. The meeting with Lord Blessington — Graham — had been so unexpected that I did not know how to process what had happened. I had no frame of reference for the feelings Graham had stirred in me, and I had no one to talk to that could guide me through the confusion I felt.

  Oh, Mama, I thought, how does one behave when these feelings emerge? This was not a subject the two of us had ever broached. Living in our little cabin in the woods had not allowed for many male visitors, save the soldiers from the fort, but I was not allowed to interact with them beyond a friendly greeting. The officers on board acknowledged me and made small talk, but it wasn’t the same as having people around me who cared about my wellbeing. I desperately missed my family.

  I rose, and tugged the covers up over the bed, smoothing the quilt until it was free of wrinkles. As I crossed to the small wardrobe, I felt a pang of regret that I did not have a selection of gowns to choose from. I imagined that Graham had been part of the storied London society Mama had described to me and relayed to me through Grandmother’s letters. The ladies he was used to certainly had more than two gowns.

  As cheerfully as I could, I dressed, then twisted my hair into a sensible bun. Satisfied that I looked presentable, I slipped out of the room in search of Mrs. Saunders. The men ate in their bunks below deck, while Mrs. Saunders and I took our meals in a little sitting room that Graham and the captain used as state room

  Mrs. Saunders bustled to the small side table when I entered the room. She poured me a small cup of tea and set it on the table we used for dining. The two of us had become quite skilled at taking proper meals on a rocking boat.

  We sipped our tea in silence. Though a battery of questions pressed to the fore of my mind, I decided to enjoy the quiet. Mrs. Saunders peered out the window at the calm ocean. Over the past several days the sea had rolled and roiled like an angry bull. We never came upon a storm but the movement alone was enough to quell one’s appetite.

  After nibbling a hard biscuit, I excused myself.

  Mrs. Sauders smiled. “A walk in the fresh air will do you a world of good, dearie. Would you like me to accompany you?”

  As I considered her offer, I noticed the green tinge around her cheeks. She must have been feeling ill still, so I shook my head. “Thank you, but no. I think you should try to get some rest.”

  When I stepped onto the deck, a warm wind wrapped around me. It carried the smell of salt and fish, which I inhaled deeply. I turned my face to the sun, like a flower in the woods.

  “And how are you this fine day, my lady?”

  I felt a smile tug at my lips as I turned toward the familiar voice. Graham leaned against the deck rail and gazed out at the endless expanse of ocean. The sun caught the golden hue of his hair. I was about to reply when a sailor hurried up to us.

  “Sir, a ship approaches from the southwest at two knots.”

  The sailor’s tone made my stomach tighten, and I thought I might be ill. We rocked onward as the waves tossed us ever forward. How I wished we could speed up because as I scanned the horizon, I could see the concerning vessel coming ever closer.

  The wave of the first blast rolled over me, and I dropped to my knees on the deck. I covered my face with my hands, tears dripping down my cheeks within seconds. Strong hands grabbed me. Instinctively I knew it was Graham.

  “What is happening?” My voice felt strained against my throat.

  Graham peered down at me with his sea green eyes. He seemed to be wrestling with what to tell me, the struggle evident on his face. Finally he sighed. “There seems to be an enemy ship firing on us.”

  Just as I had feared. “Is it the Americans?” The question came out as a whisper. I could feel the tears building in the back of my eyes and a lump forming in my throat.

  “I cannot be sure,” he said. “Likely, no. Unfortunately I fear that it may be privateers or another rogue ship.”

  “Privateers?” My voice cracked. Father had told tall tales about privateers and pirates to James on long winter evenings, but I had always hidden under my quilts to drown out the stories.

  “I need you to find Mrs. Saunders and get to the hold,” Graham said, his voice even and calm, though I could see the tension in his jaw.

  Memories of James hurrying me to the root cellar flooded my mind. “I… I do not think I can move, my lord.”

  Graham cupped my face with his hand, and instant warmth spread through me. I was momentarily distracted from the panic rising in my chest.

  “I will not let anything happen to you,” he said.

  The spark of my old self flared as I longed to believe him. I knew, though, that no one could make such promises. A sudden burst of anger caused me to push Graham’s hand away. “I shall go find Mrs. Saunders, but I will make sure that I keep myself safe.”

  As I crept away on my hands and knees, I watched Graham sit back on his heels for a moment. The motion of the boat made it impossible for me to get my balance so I stayed in a crouched position. He followed me with his gaze as I neared the doorway to the cabins, a bemused expression on his face. A feeling I couldn’t name flickered in my stomach, and as I reached the relative safety of the hallway a wave of resolve washed over me. I was going to keep myself safe. That was my new mission.

  Chapter Seven

  The first blast from the cannon rocked the ship. In the hull of the ship, Mrs. Saunders and I huddled together near some barrels of pickled herring. Tears rolled down my face as memories of the hideous night only weeks ago bombarded me.

  “My mother taught me how to pickle fish before I could talk.” The words slipped out amidst my sobs.

  Mrs. Saunders wrapped her thick arms around me and smoothed my hair. “Keep talking, dearie.”

  “I miss her. I miss my mama.” The mere admission rubbed me raw. I blubbered as I pressed my face into Mrs. Saunders.

  “I know, dearie.
I know. You have had a hard time. Just try to remember all the lovely times the two of you had together. Hold those in your heart, and the good Lord will heal the rest.”

  Though Mrs. Saunders meant her words to be soothing, I tensed. How could I remember all of the lovely times when the moment I thought of my family, nightmares invaded my waking thoughts? Mama would have known what to do, and I knew that I needed to model myself after her. If I was to keep myself safe, I needed to figure out what to do on my own.

  From the deck we could hear the men yelling, then another blast from cannon. The sounds grew louder until I felt like my head was swimming in a sea of noise. Each explosion rocked the ship so hard I feared we might capsize. No words came, but the tears flowed down my cheeks. How could I keep myself safe when the good Lord seemed intent on testing me?

  Mrs. Saunders patted my arm rhythmically as time stretched around us. Another loud boom caused us both to jump. The noise sounded as if the cannonball had landed right on the other side of the wall we were seated beside. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs refused to expand properly. Memories of Father instructing James on the organs of the body drifted into my mind. Lungs. Heart. Brain. The words jumbled into an incomprehensible mishmash. What was Father doing right now? And what of James?

  Silence.

  The ceasing of sound made my stomach twist more than the actual cannon fire.

  Footsteps thudded down the stairs. Mrs. Saunders wrapped her arms tighter around me, and I burrowed into the comforting softness. Whoever was coming seemed to be in quite a hurry. Had the pirates boarded our ship? Or had Graham and the others prevailed? I desperately hoped for the latter.