Читать книгу The Bride Ship - Deborah Hale, Deborah Hale - Страница 11

T he waters of the harbor were calm and mild fog wrapped around the Hestia when Colonel and Mrs. Carmont dropped Jocelyn off at the wharf late that afternoon.

“How can I begin to thank you for all your help?” She squeezed Sally’s hand. “If not for you, I would be headed back to England in disgrace.”

“It was a pleasure,” Sally assured her. “And most diverting to watch you get the best of Governor Kerr.”

“Now, Sally,” her husband protested, “I’ve told you before, you must not be so hard on the poor man. He may be a bit too sober for your taste, but he is an excellent fellow who has done a great deal of good for the colony.”

“For the settlers, perhaps.” Sally’s pert tone told Jocelyn she enjoyed teasing her husband. “But Halifax society has been unbearably dull since he took office. I feel certain that is about to change for the better.”

“You, my dear wife, live entirely for pleasure,” Will Carmont scolded fondly.

Sally chuckled. “That is better than living for misery, don’t you think?”

“You have me there!” The colonel patted his wife’s hand.

The good-natured domestic banter between the Carmonts brought a pang of longing to Jocelyn’s heart. It reminded her so much of the way she and Ned had carried on in the early days of their marriage.

“Why don’t you come and have a celebratory dinner at our house?” asked Sally.

“Thank you for the offer, but I had better not.” Jocelyn endeavored to sound brisk and cheerful as she nodded toward the ship, swathed in a ghostly mist. “I must waste no time telling my girls the news. They have likely been at sixes and sevens ever since I left.”

Her guess proved true. Before she could get a word out, half a dozen girls had tattled to her about the behavior of the others. Louisa looked as though she had not stopped crying the whole time Jocelyn had been away. And poor Lily looked ready to tear her hair out.

“Please, Mrs. Finch,” she begged as soon as she could get a word in, “what’s to become of us? Has it been decided yet? May we stay in Nova Scotia or will we have to leave?”

Grasping Lily’s hand, Jocelyn cried, “We can stay!”

A sweet thrill of success bubbled within her, even more potent than when she had placed Sir Robert’s king in checkmate.

Her news provoked a torrent of questions.

“How did you convince the governor?”

“Where are we to stay?”

“Can we get off the ship now?”

That question almost caused a stampede toward the galleyway.

Jocelyn had to shout to make herself heard over the din. “Not tonight, I’m afraid!”

A deafening chorus of wails and groans filled the hold.

“Hush now!” Jocelyn covered her ears to drown out the din. “One more night aboard ship will not kill us. It is certainly better than several more weeks on a return voyage to England.”

Perhaps the girls heard an implied threat in her reminder, for a chastened hush fell over them.

Jocelyn seized the moment. “Speaking of sleep, I think we had all better get some. Tomorrow will be a busy day. The governor has offered us the use of his summer estate just outside of town.”

When some of the girls grumbled at the thought of lodging in the country, she added, “His Royal Highness, the Duke of Kent lived there for several years when he was stationed in Halifax.”

“Royal lodgings?” Lily sounded suitably impressed. “What an honor for us! And how very kind of the governor.”

Was it kind? Jocelyn wondered, even as she nodded. She had won Sir Robert’s agreement to let them stay in Nova Scotia, but she knew better than to suppose he would give her his full support. Did he hope that by settling her and her charges on the edge of town, they would be out of sight and out of mind?

What she had not told the girls about the Prince’s Lodge was that the Duke of Kent had lived there quite openly with his French mistress. The place must have a rather tainted reputation on that account. And what sort of housekeeping arrangements would they find there tomorrow? Did the governor hope to make their stay so unpleasant they would be forced to leave?

Those worries plagued Jocelyn through the night, but her spirits lifted as soon as she stepped out on deck the next morning. Golden spring sunshine had burned off the fog. Now it shimmered on the dark waters of Halifax Harbor and warmed the air to a pleasant enough temperature that she was inclined to linger outside for a look around.

For the first time since her arrival in Halifax, she took a moment to survey the town that would be her home for the next few months. Behind the solid ironstone warehouses on the docks, buildings ranged up the steep hillside in tiers that reminded Jocelyn of Bath, back in England. Though, instead of golden stone town houses, most were wooden cottages with barnlike gambrel roofs. Some were painted in bright colors while others had been left to weather to a soft gray. The bustle of ships in the harbor and the looming presence of Fort George on the summit of the hill gave the town an air of excitement, even danger.

There was a sense of suppressed excitement aboard the bride ship, too, when it cast off and sailed a few miles deeper into Bedford Basin. Jocelyn did her best to prevent the girls from swarming all over the deck and getting in the way of the crew, but it was hopeless.

“Oh, very well!” She threw up her hands at last. How could she expect them to contain their eagerness when she could scarcely curb her own? “Only don’t all crowd on one side of the deck—you’ll make the ship list. And anyone I catch pushing will be sent below!”

The last thing she needed was to fish some sodden young woman out of the frigid water. That would do nothing to dispel Sir Robert’s negative opinion of them.

Jocelyn was so busy keeping an anxious eye on her charges she hardly noticed the settlements on shore giving way from town buildings to scattered farms to trees, trees and more trees. Most were still bare of foliage but scattered evergreens lent the rural landscape a little color.

“Look!” Hetty Jenkins pointed toward a spit of land jutting out between two coves. “D’ye reckon that’s the place?”

Jocelyn shaded her eyes and peered in the direction Hetty was pointing. Nestled among a pretty grove of slender beech and birch trees stood a curious-looking building. It appeared to be circular with a domed roof. A colonnade of pillars ringed the central structure, creating a shallow cloister. Sunshine glittered off a large golden ball atop the dome. While it looked an altogether charming little place, it was far too small and in every other way unsuited for…

“Don’t be a bigger fool than you can help, carrothead!” Vita Sykes gave a snort of scornful laughter. “That’s likely just the prince’s privy. Up the hill is a house that might hold us all in a pinch.”

“As long as I don’t have to share a bed with you,” Hetty shot back before Jocelyn could intervene. “Be afraid of catching some vermin, I would.”

“I’ll box your ears for that, see if I don’t!”

Fortunately the chief troublemakers were far enough apart that neither could land a blow. Jocelyn half wished that pair would lean too far over the deck railing and tumble into the basin. She could think of several girls who would gladly give them a shove.

“That will be quite enough from both of you.” She glared at Hetty, who hung her head, then at Vita, who stared back bold as brass. “Any further such behavior and you may find yourselves toting all our luggage up to the lodge. Is that understood?”

They muttered something that might have been “Yes, ma’am.”

In Vita’s case, Jocelyn wondered if it was a choice bit of profanity. Whatever had persuaded Mrs. Beamish to give that little vixen a berth on the bride ship, Jocelyn could not guess. To test her skills as a chaperone, perhaps? If that was Vita’s purpose, she excelled at it!

Having averted a full-blown catfight on deck, Jocelyn turned her attention to the larger building Vita had pointed out in the distance. The place did look as though it might suit their needs. A pleasantly proportioned country villa, it had a pillared veranda that ran the full width of the ground floor topped by an equally wide balcony. Above that, a single large dormer jutted out from the center of the roof. It had one vast window that no doubt provided a splendid view.

The girls would have to sleep several to a room at first and eat their meals in two shifts. But as some left to get married the crowding would ease. Jocelyn imagined how pretty the grounds would look once the trees and flowers began to bloom. Why, they would rival anything on her father’s estate back in Norfolk. She stifled a pang of longing for the bright spring daffodils that grew around Breckland in such profusion.

“Drop anchor!” bellowed the captain. “Prepare the boats!”

“Vita, Eleanor.” Jocelyn pointed to several girls. “Mary Parfitt, Sophia, Charlotte and Eliza Turner, go below and fetch as much of your luggage as you can carry. You will come with me on the first boat.”

She turned to Lily. “Send the rest after us in small groups. Keep Hetty with you until the last.”

Lily cast a wistful glance at the little domed building on shore, but bobbed an obliging nod. “Anything else, Mrs. Finch?”

“That will be quite enough for the moment.” Jocelyn patted her arm. “Thank you, my dear.”

If anything, Lily deserved to be one of the first to disembark, but Jocelyn did not trust any of the others to keep order after she left. And it was necessary for her to lead their party to the lodge. While it looked an agreeable-enough place from a distance, who knew what state they might find it in?

Governor Kerr did not seem the type of man who indulged in country idylls when there were documents to sign and reports to write. Heaven only knows how long it had been since anyone occupied the place. No matter, though. If Prince’s Lodge had to be cleaned from cellar to attic, it would give her charges a useful occupation during their early days in the colony.

The first party was lowered gingerly into a boat and rowed to shore. Then the oarsmen lifted each of the passengers out onto dry ground. Vita clung to the sailor who hoisted her ashore far longer than was proper.

Jocelyn grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away. “The others would like to disembark before nightfall.” She picked up a couple of bags and thrust them into Vita’s hands. “Now make yourself useful for a change.”

The girl’s full lower lip jutted out in a sulk as she looked around her. “Prince or no prince, it’s all a bit rustic for my taste. Too bad we couldn’t have stayed in town.”

“I shudder to think what mischief you might get up to in town.” Jocelyn hoisted one of her bags and set off across a wide, rutted road toward the gates of the estate. “Unless you start behaving with a little decorum, Miss Sykes, you will find yourself rusticating out here all summer.”

She could almost feel an invisible dagger piercing her back from Vita’s vicious glare. Pity any poor fool tempted into matrimony by Vita’s wanton ways!

They had barely gotten across the road when Jocelyn spotted a man striding down the steep, winding driveway to meet them. Had the governor put aside his everlasting papers for a few hours and ridden out from town to welcome them? She strove not to betray any sign of disappointment when she saw it was Sir Robert’s aide, Mr. Duckworth. Indeed, she told herself, she was not disappointed. After all, the young man was far more agreeable and obliging than his master.

“Welcome, ladies!” He pushed open the gate and hurried toward them. “I hope you will find the accommodations here to your satisfaction.”

“I assure you,” said Jocelyn, “provided the place is dry and the floors do not sway beneath our feet, we shall be quite contented here.”

He chuckled. “I believe I can safely promise you both those things, Mrs. Finch. But do not exert yourselves to carry so much.” He reached for one of Jocelyn’s bags. “The lane up to the lodge is quite steep. I will send a cart down to collect all your luggage as soon as it is unloaded from the ship.”

Did Mr. Duckworth enjoy being perpetually hurried and worried? Jocelyn wondered. Or had his service to a martinet like Sir Robert Kerr made him so?

“Do not fret.” She let him take one of her bags but clung to the other with no intention of surrendering it. “After our weeks at sea, a little exertion will do us good.”

“He’s welcome to carry mine if he wants to,” Vita muttered, just loud enough for Jocelyn to hear.

“I beg your pardon?” said Mr. Duckworth.

Silencing Vita with a stern frown, Jocelyn answered, “We will be most grateful for a cart to haul the trunks. It was kind of you to come all the way from town to meet us.”

The young man cast a shy but admiring glance at the girls who had accompanied Jocelyn. “It is a pleasure and an honor rather than a duty, ma’am. Allow me to show you around the place so you can get settled as soon as possible.”

A host of welcome smells greeted Jocelyn when Mr. Duckworth threw open the front door of Prince’s Lodge and stood back to let her enter. The faint reek of lye, camphor, brass and wood polish overpowered any hint of mustiness. Someone had given the place a thorough cleaning, and not long ago, either. A faint whiff of wood smoke told her at least some of the fires had been lit. While not strictly necessary on such a mild day, they did dispel any trace of dampness from the air.

While the rest of Jocelyn’s charges disembarked from the bride ship and made their way up to the lodge, Mr. Duckworth conducted her on a tour of the place from the locked wine cellar to the rooftop lookout with its spectacular view. As she peered into the bedrooms, Jocelyn found herself reckoning how many girls each would hold and who should share quarters with whom.

“Would it be possible,” she asked, “to fetch a few more beds from town and convert the little sewing room on the ground floor to sleeping quarters as a temporary measure?”

“More beds are already on their way, ma’am.” Mr. Duckworth looked pleased to inform her of the fact. “They should be here before nightfall. Is there anything else you require?”

“A kitchen would be handy.” Jocelyn felt rather foolish having to point it out. They were standing in quite a grand dining room. If the villa was equipped for guests to dine on such a scale, surely it must be equipped to cook for them.

“Of course.” Mr. Duckworth beckoned her toward a window that looked onto the grounds behind the lodge. “I should have mentioned it before.”

He pointed at the nearest of several trim outbuildings. With its tall, arched windows, it had the appearance of a chapel. “That is the kitchen and the cook’s quarters. Because this place was designed as a summer residence, the kitchen is separate so its fires do not overheat the house.”

“Clever.” Jocelyn spotted a small black woman bustling around the kitchen. “Is that our cook?”

The girls could all share in the duties of housemaids, but having someone to prepare their meals would be a great boon.

Mr. Duckworth nodded. “Miz Ada is on loan from Government House for as long as you need her. She knows the kitchen at Prince’s Lodge well. She was part of the household staff when the duke resided here.”

“I’m certain she will be a valuable addition to our establishment.” Jocelyn strove to sound poised and gracious, though part of her wanted to dance around the dining room. When she and her charges had set out for Nova Scotia, she’d never dared hope they would find such excellent accommodations.

Mr. Duckworth lingered at the window for a further moment. “Once you get settled in, you and your young ladies must explore the grounds. They are quite lovely, and will only grow more so in the weeks to come.”

“I daresay we will make good use of them.” Jocelyn pulled out the chair at the head of the dining table and sank onto it for a moment. She found herself looking forward to being mistress of a fine house again, even if it was only temporary. “After all those weeks cooped up aboard ship, we will be anxious to stretch our legs and enjoy some fresh scenery.”

Just then Lily appeared in the dining room doorway, looking flushed and flustered. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Finch. Sir. All the girls are here, now. Some of them are arguing over which rooms they will get. Can you come?”

“I’ll be along directly.” Jocelyn stifled an exasperated sigh as she rose from the chair. Clearly it was too soon to think of rest yet. Her mission had barely begun. “Tell them I am on my way. That may settle things.”

“Very good, ma’am.” Lily disappeared as quickly as she had come.

Jocelyn turned to the governor’s aide. “Thank you for the tour of the house and for all your help, Mr. Duckworth.” If his master had been half so obliging, their stay in Halifax would have gotten off to a far more pleasant start. “If there is nothing else, I beg you will excuse me to begin organizing our household.”

“I will not detain you, ma’am. I should be getting back to town. There are only two more matters I meant to mention.”

“And they would be…?” She tried not to sound impatient. Much as she enjoyed the young man’s company, she needed to get the girls settled. She did not want him to see how firm a hand she might have to use, in case he carried word of it back to the governor.

“Colonel Carmont will be sending a small guard detail from town, ma’am. The first should be here before nightfall. They will be relieved every twelve hours.”

“Armed guards? Is that necessary? This looks like such a peaceful spot.” Would their mission be to keep trespassers out or to keep Jocelyn and her charges virtual prisoners on this secluded estate?

“His Excellency has ordered it, ma’am.” Mr. Duckworth looked regretful but resolved. “And I believe it is necessary. The road at the foot of the hill is the coach route to Windsor. There is often considerable traffic on it and not always of the best kind. A house full of young ladies might pose an attraction to undesirable company.”

“Oh, very well.” Never let it be said she lacked the wit to bow to the inevitable. “If His Excellency decrees we must be guarded, then I suppose we have no choice.”

Hearing raised voices in the distance, she asked, “What was the second matter you wished to mention?”

“Governor Kerr asked to be informed how soon you wish to begin conducting interviews with men in the colony who are seeking wives. Would you like notices placed in the Gazette? His Excellency suggested a system of written applications might be useful, similar to the way land patents are granted.”