The Bride Ship

Her pain had touched him just as Allegra’s had today, yet some part of him hurt that his mother could not consider him part of the family. “I thought Gerald was taking care of everything for you,” he couldn’t help commenting.

She’d lowered her gaze even as she tucked her handkerchief into her reticule. “Gerald has been a great blessing to me. He is very good about seeing that the family carries on. I cannot ask this of him.”

But she could ask it of him. Gerald was a gentleman; Clay had thrown off the label. His cousin might not be willing to do all it would take to retrieve Allegra. His mother obviously believed Clay had fewer scruples. Though Clay liked to think he was still an honorable man for all he’d chosen a different path than the one his parents had picked out for him, he could not argue that he was his mother’s best tool for the job. He was more than ready to do Allegra a service, particularly if it meant saving her from the mistakes he’d made.

Now he snorted. And wasn’t he doing a jolly good job of saving Allegra? Instead of sending her home to Boston, he’d aided and abetted her in running away! Shaking his head at his own behavior, he entered the lower salon. Those passengers who had not yet been assigned staterooms were clustered around a hatch at the end of the room. Allegra and her daughter were looking on, but he couldn’t tell whether they were curious or concerned. He pushed himself to the center, where a pretty, petite blonde was struggling with a brass latch embedded in the floor.

On seeing him, she put on a winsome smile. “Please, sir,” she said sweetly, “would you mind helping me with this?”

The others made room for him, their gazes expectant, as if he were about to open a fabled treasure cave. Clay was more suspicious.

“What is this?” he asked, positioning himself over the hatch.

“Access to the coal bin, sir,” she replied. “I was told by Mr. Mercer to open it immediately when we set sail out of quarantine. He said it was very important.”

Clay couldn’t understand why anyone needed to see into a dark, dusty coal bin, but he had to admit to curiosity as to why Mercer had thought it so important. He bent to haul on the ring, and the hatch opened. People leaned around his arm, peering into the gloom. He could see Allegra and her redheaded friend exchanging frowning glances.

“It’s safe now, Mr. Mercer,” the blonde called into the void. “You can come out.”

Allegra stiffened in obvious shock, while others put their hands to their mouths. Coal-dusted fingers waved above the edge of the hole, and Clay bent to tug Asa Mercer to the floor of the salon. He was a slender man, not yet thirty, with a solemn face and a brisk manner. Now his curly reddish hair and whiskers were speckled with black, his long face striped with grime. He tugged down on his paisley waistcoat and beamed at those around him.

“The coal is well stored and sufficient for the first leg of our journey,” he reported as if he’d merely climbed into the bin to inspect it. “It appears we are under way. I look forward to a fine voyage, a very fine voyage.”

Allegra stared at him a moment, then turned her gaze to Clay’s. Very likely, they’d reached the same conclusion.

She had no one to rely on but him, and she had every right to be concerned.

* * *

It was not the most auspicious start to their journey. While many of the women welcomed their benefactor, Allie couldn’t shake the image of Mr. Mercer rising from the coal bin. This was the man in whom they’d placed their trust?

Catherine evidently had similar concerns. “I’m greatly disappointed in him,” she confessed as they all went to find their staterooms. “He paid his own passage, but it seems as if he promised space to anyone who asked. When it became clear not everyone would be allowed aboard, he hid to avoid telling them the truth.”

Allie glanced into one of the rooms they were passing. “I don’t understand it. There can’t be more than one hundred passengers aboard, and there seems to be room for at least three times that. What happened to the other people?”

“Perhaps they saw those wretched reports in the papers,” Catherine mused. “The ones claiming we’d be eaten by bears or enslaved by savages.”

Perhaps. The editorial articles had nearly made Allie change her mind. But Mr. Mercer had seemed so earnest, his vision of a settled Seattle so clear. She knew she wasn’t the only woman who’d put her faith in him. Was he actually a coward? And what about the money she’d paid him? Was he a terrible cheat and liar as well? Or was it the mismanagement of the steamship company that was to blame? She’d read stories in the Boston papers about how ruthless Ben Holladay could be in business dealings.

“I don’t care how many rooms he has on this great tub,” Maddie proclaimed, “so long as we each get a bed.”

Catherine smiled at her. “I’m sure we’ll each have a bed, even though we’ll likely have to share a room. I’m just glad you and I could produce our tickets, Madeleine.”

Maddie stopped at a door at the end of the lower salon and grinned at Allie. “And would you lookie here now! It seems you and me will be together in this room, Allegra, my dear.”

“You and I,” Catherine corrected her, pausing to peer inside the room, then at the number on the door. “Number thirty-five. As I am number fifteen, I must be on the upper deck. Shall we meet for supper?”

Maddie wiggled her fingers at Catherine. “La-di-da—do you think those of us on the lower floor will be welcomed above our stations?”

Catherine tsked. “I cannot imagine anywhere you would not be welcomed, Madeleine dear.” She bent to kiss Gillian on the cheek, then straightened. “I shall see you all shortly.”

Maddie sighed as Catherine strolled away. “Not an unkind bone in her body, so there isn’t. But she’s mad to think I’ll be welcomed at her table.”

As they’d waited for the ship to sail, Allie had learned a great deal about both her friends. Catherine came from a small town outside Boston, the daughter of a prominent physician. Maddie had been quieter about her background, but Allie knew she had journeyed from Ireland as a child with her father, only to meet prejudice on America’s shores. She seemed to expect it now wherever she went.

“The good ship Continental is not New York,” Allie informed her, leading Gillian into the little room. “We’ll be spending a quarter year together. The sooner we learn to live in peace, the better.”

“Just you remember that,” Maddie told her, “when that handsome Mr. Howard comes calling.”

Allie refused to dignify the comment with a response. Instead, she set to work making the room their home.

The cabin was a cozy, white-washed space, with two berths stacked one atop the other along one wall and surrounded by flowered chintz curtains. A narrow padded bench sat opposite with room underneath to stow their trunks.

“And look here,” Allie said, leading her frowning daughter to the tall slender wooden cabinet between the bunks and the bench. “There’s a mirror on top so we can tidy our hair, and a desk that folds out for writing letters.”

Maddie pointed to the wood railing around the top of the cabinet. “And that’s to keep our belongings from tipping over when the sea rocks the boat.”

Gillian’s frown only deepened.

Allie forced a smile as she hung her cloak on a hook on one side of the cabinet. Gillian was used to much finer things, a room three times the size of this one, fancy dresses, fine food, but she was also used to being bossed about every second of her day under harsh discipline no child should have to endure. Changing that situation was more than worth lesser accommodations.

So, she showed Gillian how to make up the berths with the bedding they’d brought, hung a few of their things in the little cabinet, tucked the letters Frank had written her carefully in the back of the trunk. The only time she truly felt a pang of regret was when she arranged her two favorite books and Bible on one end of the bench for easy reach.

She and Frank had devoted one room of their home to a library. How they’d loved to sit and read aloud by the fire or share insights from their private reading. All she’d had room to carry were Ivanhoe and Pride and Prejudice. Both she could one day share with Gillian.

As they finished setting the room to rights, Maddie stood back and nodded. “Just like home. And we even have a sheet and blanket left over to be charitable to Mr. Howard.”

Allie had been stowing her trunk under the bench. Now she paused to glance up at her friend. Because she’d had to sneak away from the Howard mansion, their belongings consisted only of what could fit in the trunk that she had convinced a footman to hide in the carriage house for her.

She’d had a valise, as well, with many of Gillian’s dresses, but it had been stolen. Allie had spent the evenings waiting for the Continental to sail by taking apart one of her gowns to make clothes for her daughter. With each item they currently possessed so hard won, how could she think of giving any away?

“Mr. Howard can certainly fend for himself,” she replied, pushing in the trunk and rising. “I see no need to rescue him from his own choices.”

Maddie cocked her head. “Even when he was so kind as to try to rescue you from yours?”

“Don’t you find that just a bit overweening?” Allie asked with a grimace.

“Oh, to be sure. But a man will be a man, so they will. And as men go, he’s a charming one. What other gent would set his own plans aside to further yours?”

Allie stared at her. She’d been so busy arguing for her right to take this trip that she hadn’t considered why Clay was taking it. He must have had plans for the next three months, and Boston could not have been part of them. She knew what little fondness he carried for his former home. Yet he’d said his mother had sent him to find Allie, so he must have been to Boston. He couldn’t have reached the ship in time any other way. Why was he willing to come with them now?

She did not have a chance to ask him until the next day. After she and Maddie finished setting up their stateroom, they joined Mr. Debro for a tour of the ship. They started on the lower deck, which was completely enclosed in hickory, the passageways lit by the golden glow of lanterns along the way. The deep thrum of the steam engine vibrated the floor and made her feel as if she’d wandered into a cozy hive.

“But you mustn’t enter the engine room, ladies,” the purser warned as they paused before the open door. “The crew works hard to keep the boilers burning, day and night. They have no time for pleasantries.”

Allie was more interested in the activities aboard ship, for she was fairly certain keeping up their small room would not require all their time. She was pleased to find that the lower salon had games like checkers and ninepin, and the upper salon had a piano just waiting unpacking.

The upper deck was exposed to the elements. Already a cold breeze whipped about the buildings along the planking. But Allie knew once they reached warmer weather she and her daughter could promenade there.