Regina Scott - The Bride Ship

“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.

“The wheelhouse is in the stern,” Mr. Debro explained, pointing as he talked. “And the officers’ quarters are in the bow. You will have no need to visit either.”

“Is that an explanation or a warning?” Maddie whispered to Allie, twinkle in her brown eyes.

“But the officers will dine with us, won’t they?” another woman asked, and Allie could see many countenances turned hopefully to the purser’s.

Mr. Debro reddened. “That is up to the captain, madam. But I believe, as he has his family with him this trip, he intends to dine in the upper salon.”

Maddie looked at Allie as if to say I told you so . She was equally amused when Mr. Debro pointed out the larger cabins in the central building on the upper deck. The beds were bigger, the upholstery finer, the space brighter from the latticed windows overlooking the sea.

“These may appear more elegant,” Allie whispered to Maddie, “but they are likely colder on a winter’s night than our room.”

Maddie nodded as if that were fair enough.

Above the rooms on the upper deck was another space railed in iron chain, a longboat lashed to each corner.

“This is the hurricane deck,” Mr. Debro told them, one hand to his head to keep his hat in place. “As you will notice, it’s most often windy here, but it is a fine place to take your constitutional in the morning.”

They climbed down the narrow stairs in time to see Clay exiting one of the upper-deck staterooms. He tugged off his hat and inclined his head to the ladies, several of whom giggled behind their hands as if they’d never seen a gentleman before. He went so far as to wink at Gillian, who turned her head to watch him as they passed. Allie kept her own head high.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight, Mrs. Howard,” he called after her.

“Someone’s made a conquest,” one girl said with a laugh.

Allie ignored her. In fact, she did her best to discourage any conversation with Clay when they gathered for dinner that evening and he sat himself nearby. She set Gillian between them at the table, then directed her attention to Catherine and Maddie on her left. She slid the platter of salted beef to him along the table to avoid any chance their hands or gazes might meet. And she answered any questions put to her as shortly as possible.

“You’re working far too hard,” Catherine told her after dinner had ended and the three women and Gillian were clustered around one of the small tables along the wall. “Simply ignore the fellow. He seems clever enough to understand your intent.”

“Oh, to be sure,” Maddie agreed with a glance at Clay, who was leaning against the opposite wall. “And if you’re certain you’re uninterested, you won’t mind if I should cast my net in his direction.”

“Madeleine,” Catherine scolded, “if Allegra has determined the gentleman to be lacking, we would be wise to look elsewhere.”