Christine Johnson - Mail Order Mix-Up

Her wide eyes and stunning dark curls would captivate most men. Perhaps they might interest his brother, who desperately needed a wife. Maybe he could convince Garrett to come aboard long enough to meet her when the ship stopped in Singapore. If the purser refused to let him board, Roland would bring the lady to Garrett. A simple dockside meeting might set ablaze the dried-out tinder of his brother’s heart.

He answered the brunette but couldn’t stop watching the lady named Pearl. “Thank you, miss, but any gentleman would do the same.”

None of the women pointed out that no one else had come to assist them.

Instead, the victim graciously accepted his response. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Decker. I am Miss Amanda Porter, and this is my friend, Miss Pearl Lawson.” She paused, apparently hoping he would give his Christian name, thus putting them on a level of intimacy that he did not care to initiate.

“Pleased to meet you, ladies.”

Amanda frowned. “Pearl is the new schoolteacher in Singapore, Michigan.”

“Is that so?” He had not imagined any of them would be getting off at Singapore. He looked at Pearl anew. Her take-charge, plainspoken demeanor might fare well in the rough-edged society of Singapore. “I wasn’t aware we needed a new teacher.”

“You clearly don’t have children, then,” Pearl stated.

“Uh, no.” His brother might have mentioned the need for a schoolteacher, but as a bachelor Roland had little interest in such matters.

“Pearl,” Amanda cautioned her friend before turning back to him. “I’m afraid the long journey from New York has wearied us. Pearl isn’t usually this forward.”

Roland suspected Miss Pearl Lawson was behaving exactly as she always did. Those thrust-back shoulders and strong chin indicated she took no nonsense from anyone. Rather refreshing. Usually women simpered around him. He’d endured cloying attention, batted eyelashes and every manner of feminine wile down to the feigned swoon. He didn’t know if Amanda Porter’s fainting spell had been genuine, but he doubted Pearl would ever stoop to that deceit. She seemed honest and straightforward, without one bit of artifice.

“I’m Louise Smythe,” a voice squeaked from behind the two women, drawing his attention from Pearl.

Roland had forgotten about the fourth woman. “Miss Smythe.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Mrs. Smythe, actually. But my husband was killed in the war.”

“My sympathies, ma’am. Most families lost someone. Two of my cousins never returned.”

She bowed her head, as if overcome.

Roland glanced back to see Holmes had joined them at some point. He made further introductions and then began to angle the investor toward the gentlemen’s lounge. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Holmes and I have business to attend to. I hope to see you ladies later.”

“You will hardly be able to avoid Fiona,” Pearl noted, “since she will join you at dinner.”

“Ah, yes...dinner.” Why did she have to remind him of that now-onerous task?

He opened his mouth to say more, but Holmes interrupted with an even more unwelcome proposition. “Why don’t all of you join us?”

Roland couldn’t stifle this groan. Four women would hinder any attempt at striking a deal before they reached Singapore. “I doubt there would be enough room at the captain’s table.”

“I—I have other plans,” Louise Smythe spluttered, slipping into the background again.

Mr. Holmes accepted her regrets but not the protests of Pearl and Amanda. “I happen to know that there is ample room.”

Pearl’s expression had tightened, as if she dreaded the thought of dining with them, but Amanda clapped her hands with delight.

“The captain’s table! It will be wonderful, won’t it, Pearl?”

The no-nonsense woman looked like she was about to make an excuse, but after a pleading look from Amanda, she gave in. “We would be delighted.”

“It will be an excellent opportunity to get better acquainted,” Amanda said, again glancing between Pearl and him. “Won’t it?”

“We will have plenty of time to get acquainted once we all disembark in Singapore,” Pearl stated.

“All?” Roland didn’t miss that little word. “You’re all going to Singapore? Why? There’s nothing for women to do there. Except the school, of course.”

Now Pearl looked perplexed. “But you are expecting us.”

“What?” He backed up a step. “I’m not expecting anyone, least of all four women.”

Amanda looked like she would burst into tears. Louise Smythe bit her lip.

Only Pearl stood strong. “Then there has been a very grave mistake, Mr. Decker.”

Prickles ran up Roland’s spine. Whatever mistaken impression these ladies had come to believe, he wanted no part of it.

“Indeed there has.” He bowed stiffly. “Good afternoon, ladies. Mr. Holmes and I have business to attend to.”

Then, like a coward, he escaped to the safety of the gentlemen’s lounge to decipher what had just happened and figure out how he was going to get out of the mess.

* * *

The thought of dining with Mr. Decker knotted Pearl’s stomach. Gazing at him from afar had been pleasant. More than pleasant. Those brilliant blue eyes drew her in like no other man, but she’d let her fancy roam where it had no business going. Pearl Lawson was a schoolteacher, under contract to teach, not marry. Despite his peculiar behavior, Mr. Decker must want to marry at once. His advertisement had drawn three eligible women. Thus far. There could be many more already in Singapore. To give Amanda equal footing with Fiona, she’d agreed to her friend’s pleas to join him for dinner, but it would be difficult not to let her suddenly unruly emotions run wild.

She shouldn’t be concerned. Handsome men had never flocked to her side. Amanda was the pretty one, the one who drew men’s attention. Amanda desperately wanted to marry and have a family. She was the one who was responding to Mr. Decker’s advertisement. Pearl had no business thinking of Mr. Decker in any manner except as the object of Amanda’s affection. Still, it would be difficult to sit with the man at dinner and not let her thoughts roam into forbidden territory.

Provided they were even admitted into the dining saloon. Third-class tickets did not entitle them to meals, and they could not afford to purchase them. This invitation promised to turn into an embarrassing fiasco.

She worried her gloves while Amanda tidied up before dinner. Since they were already wearing their best gowns, they could not change, but a little brushing off of the dust and adjusting of the hair might make them more presentable.

“I wish I had a silk gown like Fiona’s.” Amanda sighed.

“Yours is infinitely prettier.”

Amanda blushed. “But it’s not silk, and it’s handmade.”

“By an expert seamstress.”

“You don’t think he knows I made it, do you?”

“I doubt his business is tailoring or dressmaking.” Pearl brushed at the wrinkles creasing her rust-colored skirt. “Besides, why would he look at your gown when your features are so much more pleasing?”

“Do you think so?” Even more color dotted Amanda’s cheeks. She turned back to the tiny mirror loaned to them by another third-class passenger. “I think he was more interested in you.”

A shock bolted through Pearl. Could a handsome, well-off man like Mr. Decker be attracted to a tall, ungainly woman like her? “Impossible. Moreover, I am not the one responding to his advertisement.”

Amanda bit her lower lip as a frown creased her brow. “Did you notice how he reacted when you pointed out that he must be expecting us?”

Pearl had to admit that she’d noticed. “Perhaps he didn’t understand.” Surely a man who advertised for a wife would expect someone to answer that advertisement. What if Mr. Decker turned out little better than Hugh Bellchamp, first luring women to Singapore and then dashing their hopes? “He must have misunderstood.”