Waiting on Love

by Tracie Peterson

  Her sister had never liked living on ships, but for Elise it was home, and she never intended to live long on land. Her father had purchased a little house in Duluth for them to winter in. Uncle James had wanted them to stay with him in Oswego, but the idea of wearing fancy clothes from January to April left a bad taste in her father’s mouth. Mother felt the same way, but more on behalf of her husband than herself. When Uncle James mentioned one day that it would be good to have a place to stay in Duluth, Papa had suggested he would get a little house and that would be their winter harbor.

  Elise liked the little Minnesota town even though it had tripled in size of late. It seemed with every trip the town grew ever larger. The people were pleasant enough, but it wasn’t what she desired. She loved the water—the crack of the sails, the breeze on her face. She felt more at home on the lakes than anywhere else she had ever been.

  “I should have been born male,” she murmured.

  She sank back onto the pillows and yawned. Maybe she would sleep just a little longer. If the doctor was going to insist on this rest, she might as well take advantage of it. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the Mary Elise at full sail, cutting through the water effortlessly. She could hear her father barking out orders and the crew hurrying to do his bidding.

  She thought of Nick working at Papa’s side. The younger man seemed quite pleasant and kind. His brown hair was sun-kissed, and he cut a dashing figure, even in seamen togs. Yet it was the thought of his twinkling blue eyes that gave her pause. She smiled at the memory of how he had looked at her. She found herself hoping Joe’s recuperation would take a little while longer. She wanted to sail with Nicodemus Clark and know him better.

  Elise awoke on the third day of her recuperation feeling so much better that she insisted on being let up. On the fourth day, she announced herself healed and called the maid to help her dress. It was funny how self-sufficient she was on the Mary Elise, but here she needed constant help. She couldn’t even begin to dress herself, given all the layers of undergarments, much less arrange her hair in a manner pleasing to her aunt.

  “You look most appropriate now, Miss Elise.” Etta, Caroline’s former maid, had been reassigned to Elise. She continued to look Elise over for flaws. “Mrs. Monroe will be pleased to see you are well.”

  Elise glanced in the mirror. The transformation was amazing. She looked nothing like she did when working on the ship. In the pale blue creation she wore, she looked as if she belonged in a grand salon, sharing company with the wealthy of New York. Her already trim waist was cinched even smaller to fit the beautiful gown. The neckline was thankfully modest and trimmed in white lace, and it gave the illusion of her neck being several inches longer than it really was. Etta had done an exceptional job on her hair, despite it always being difficult for Elise to work with. She had managed to create a beautiful arrangement of curls and ribbons of white. It was quite lovely.

  But as beautiful as it all was, it would never serve Elise well on board the Mary Elise. It had taken well over an hour to get dressed. She grinned at the thought of delaying breakfast for an hour while she fancied herself up, then imagined trying to get anything done dressed like this. There were times on the schooner that she wished she dared to wear pants. How convenient that would be. She had seriously considered purchasing one of those outfits designed with bloomers. Those full, puffed-out trousers for women who wished for more freedom of movement were being marketed all over the city. It might suit her to purchase some and try them out on the ship. At the very least they would help keep her warm when the winds turned cold.

  “Your aunt is taking breakfast and asked you to join her if you insisted on being up and about,” Etta stated in a formal manner.

  “Goodness, it’s nearly ten. It seems absurd to eat this close to lunch.”

  “Mrs. Monroe usually takes her meals this late during the week. The gentlemen are much too noisy when they first rise in the morning. She says they weary her nerves with all their chatter and arguing over what’s in the newspaper.” Etta put her hand to her mouth, then slowly lowered it. “Sorry, miss. I shouldn’t be speaking so.”

  “Don’t fear. I won’t say a word about it.” Elise headed for the door, and Etta scooted past her to open it.

  “Thank you, miss.” She gave a curtsy. “I didn’t mean to be so excitable.”

  “Etta, I’m not my sister nor my aunt Martha.” Elise smiled. “I’d just as soon we be friends, and friends keep each other’s secrets.” She winked and chuckled. She couldn’t help wondering what the maid would ever do if something truly exciting happened.

  Making her way downstairs to the dining room, Elise wished her father could have remained in Oswego just a few days more. He would have seen how quickly she recovered from her injuries. Then she might have been able to sail with the others. Especially the handsome Mr. Clark.

  “Elise, I still don’t think you should be out of bed,” her aunt said in greeting.

  “I feel perfectly fine. Very little soreness and moving is quite easy.” Elise took a seat opposite her aunt at the table.

  A servant was there immediately. “Would you care for something to eat?”

  “Yes, I’m famished. Please bring me breakfast and coffee.” She smiled at her aunt as the servant went off to do her bidding. “I’m really fine, Auntie. I told Papa there was no need to leave me behind, but he worries about me.”

  “And well he should. A ship is no place for a woman. I suppose, though, that since you’re eating, I shouldn’t worry. Your sister hardly ever ate much. She’s thin as a rail.”

  “She’d have had a healthy appetite out on the water. My mother loved being on the water, and so do I. It’s a life we were both born to. My sister, however, felt like you do. I suppose there is room for each individual heart on the matter.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to think. My friends were completely shocked by what you do, but they had to admit you handled yourself remarkably well at the wedding. They said they might never have known you were a . . . well, a . . .”

  “Ship’s cook?” Elise wanted to burst out laughing. Her aunt’s tone suggested Elise might as well have sold her soul.

  “Yes.” Her aunt took a sip of her tea.

  The servant arrived with breakfast and placed a plate of eggs, sausages, and fresh slices of fruit before Elise. He returned to the kitchen and came back with a rack of toast and a pot of coffee. He placed the toast in front of her, then poured her coffee. Lastly, he brought her cream and sugar.

  “Thank you. This looks delicious.” She beamed a smile at the servant.

  He returned the smile and looked to Mrs. Monroe. “Would you care for something else, Mrs. Monroe?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just leave us.”

  He nodded and gave a curt bow before exiting the dining room. Elise bowed for a brief prayer, then dug into the food with great gusto, not feeling the need to put on an act for her aunt. Meals on the ship were usually quick and without much concern for order. Her father insisted on a prayer being said before they started in, but otherwise they were hardworking men, and he didn’t try to rein them in too much when it came to their mealtime and moments of rest.

  Often at mealtimes Elise was given the wheel so the men could converse at the table regarding any problems. She thrilled at those moments when she controlled the ship. The feel of the wheel in her hands was like no other. She still remembered the first time her father had let her take charge. She hadn’t even been tall enough to see over the wheel, not that it would have helped. The deckhouse was directly in front of the wheel, making it impossible to see what was in front. Instead, there was usually someone to call out the details in tight spaces. Otherwise, the compass was used. Nevertheless, in that instance, her father had stood at her back the whole time, giving her guidance.

  “So with that in mind, we might as well set up a dinner party,” her aunt was saying.

  Elise put down her fork. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

>   “I said that since you’re feeling recovered and your father won’t be back for a couple of weeks, we should arrange a dinner party for you to meet eligible young men.”

  “Oh, I hardly think that needs to happen.” Elise reached for the cream and added a liberal amount to her coffee. “I won’t be here all that long, and there’s no sense in giving a false impression.”

  “A false impression?”

  “That I’m looking for a husband. I’m not.” Elise smiled, then sipped her coffee.

  “But you’re twenty-five. Every single young lady should be looking for a husband. It’s her destiny. You should have chosen one a long time ago.”

  “I’m much too busy helping Father to marry anyone.”

  “But that isn’t appropriate. I’ve never approved of you being raised on a ship. Why, when your sister arrived here, she was such a hoyden.”

  “Now, Auntie, you must surely exaggerate. Our mother was firm that we learn all the social graces she had learned. We knew how a proper table was set and how to have acceptable conversations. We could dance before we were teenagers, and we learned to embroider and speak French as well. Mama was quite thorough in our upbringing, including our religious training.”

  “And I’ve no doubt she did a good job, given what she had to work with. No, my criticism isn’t of her, but there are other things to learn as well. For example, how to stroll a garden with a potential suitor and how to ride in a carriage or use a sidesaddle. You can hardly learn those on a ship.”

  Elise tried to imagine riding a horse on deck. A hint of a grin formed on her lips. “No, I suppose not. Still, I thought Mama did quite well.”

  “She did, bless that woman. Rather than let you climb like monkeys in the ropes—”

  “Rigging,” Elise corrected.

  “Yes, rigging.” Her aunt shook her head. “Well, she did what she could, and given the circumstances, she did a good job.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.” Elise was very protective of her deceased mother’s memory. She wanted very much to follow her mother’s example and be a positive influence to all, both on the ship and off. Her mother had been a wonderful influence on the seamen. She had taught more than one to read, and she always took time to sew for them and even led them in musical entertainment from time to time. The men all loved her, and she made life on the Mary Elise and other ships quite pleasant.

  “You must admit, however, you were deprived of certain things.”

  “Such as?” Elise popped a piece of sausage in her mouth. She hoped that by chewing she wouldn’t be as likely to say something she’d regret.

  “Well, just as I’ve said. You didn’t learn to ride or entertain. You’ve never been to the opera or ballet. And you were surrounded by ruffians rather than gentlefolk.”

  “Did I embarrass you at the wedding, Aunt Martha?”

  Her aunt put down her teacup. “Of course not. Goodness, child, I’m not trying to make this a reprimand.”

  Elise smiled. “I’m so glad. Perhaps we can focus on the positive, then.”

  “That’s what I want for you as well. A few dinners and a garden party or two, and you’ll see just how positive things can be.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t go to the trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. It will be the perfect way to celebrate the summer. There are several invitations I haven’t yet replied to, and I’m long overdue to host a dinner. I will see you have the right clothes to wear. Thankfully you’re very nearly my size. I have several gowns I might lend you. With a little luck, you just might find the perfect suitor. Which is another thing you can hardly do on board a ship.”

  “There are plenty of men on our ship. Should I have wanted a husband, I could have taken my pick. Most of them have proposed at least once.”

  The color drained from her aunt’s face. “But those men are laborers. They would hardly suit.”

  Elise let out a silent sigh. The entirety of this visit, her aunt had been quite firm about finding Elise a husband. Even at Caroline’s wedding, it seemed that was Aunt Martha’s focus rather than the bride. The older woman had pointed out various young men who were friends of her sons Randolph and Louis, suggesting Elise might let her know if she favored any one man over another. She wasn’t likely to be dissuaded from her plans now.

  On Saturday night, the Monroe house was brimming with people. Many were friends of Randolph and Louis, but an equal number were young ladies accompanying their parents. Elise wore a gown of pale pink. The skirt was a silk overlay with taffeta underneath. With every step, the material announced her coming. The shoes Aunt Martha had lent her were a size too small, and her corset had been cinched so snug that Elise could barely eat two bites at dinner.

  The men paid her an abundance of attention, just as Aunt Martha had hoped. Louis acted as her guardian and host after dinner, introducing her first to one friend and then another. The single young ladies, in hopes of capturing attention for themselves, hung around Elise as if they were the dearest of friends. It was comical, and Elise might have pointed it out to Louis and shared a hearty laugh but for fear of embarrassing Aunt Martha and Uncle James.

  “You look quite beautiful, Elise,” her uncle declared, coming to join them. “There will be some entertainment in the music room and perhaps dancing, if I know your aunt.”

  Elise couldn’t hide her expression, and it drew her uncle’s attention.

  “Goodness, child, you look as if I’d suggested we slaughter puppies.”

  “I suppose I feel the same disdain at having to dance with all of these men. It might be just as much a misery.” She glanced around the room. “It’s too hot to dance, anyway.”

  “I must agree with you on that.” He leaned close. “Just humor your aunt, and before you know it, you’ll be sailing away.”

  Elise smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

  A four-string quartet accompanied by the piano struck up a quadrille for their first number. Louis brought over a young man.

  “Elise Wright, this is my good friend Matthew Henderson.”

  “Mr. Henderson,” she said, giving a slight curtsy.

  “Miss Wright.” He gave a small bow. “I arrived late and missed out on dinner. It’s my absolute pleasure to meet you. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

  “Of course.” She allowed him to lead her off to join the other couples.

  “I was happy to hear that you’re still in town,” he said as they performed the dance steps. “I wanted to meet you and didn’t”—he made a turn and finished when they came back together—“I didn’t have a chance.”

  Elise wasn’t certain what to say, so she smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  The dance left little time for talking, but upon its conclusion, Mr. Henderson tried to draw her to the refreshment table. Thankfully, someone else cut in to collect his dance. Before the evening was through, Elise had danced with ten different partners and was exhausted.

  “You don’t move like a woman who was just in an accident,” Louis teased during another quadrille.

  “But I am starting to feel like one. I’m exhausted.”

  Louis stopped dancing and pulled her away from the others. “You should have said something.” When they reached the arched entryway, he continued pulling her along. “You should have a rest. There’s no sense in letting those vultures pick your bones.”

  She laughed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that you mention it, I do feel rather picked over.”

  “They’re all just very impressed that you’re so beautiful and dance nothing like a sailor.” He stopped in the library and dropped his hold. “There. You should be safe here.”

  “What will they say about my absence? Your mother is determined to have me married off before midnight.”

  This time it was Louis’s turn to laugh. “That’s Mother. She’s working on me as well. There is a distinct desire in that woman to see us all married.”

  “Where you and Rand
olph are concerned, she probably wants grandchildren.” Elise smoothed her skirt. “Whereas she just wants me off the lakes, lest I further embarrass the family.”

  Louis nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. I have to say there is something about your life that I envy.”

  “You should come along sometime. I’m sure Father would be more than willing to have you on board. It’s hard work, but he could certainly teach you. And it is your father’s freighting company, so you should learn the business.”

  “He’s mentioned that before, as well, but I’ve never really wanted to go. I have a fear of the water.” He leaned in and added, “I can’t swim.”

  Elise leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner. “I’ll keep your confidence.”

  Louis grinned. “Thank you.”

  She glanced down the hall, hoping she could manage the escape. “Please tell your mother I’m sorry.”

  “She’ll be forgiving. I’ll tell her you realized that you’d pushed yourself too hard—that the injuries from the accident were making you uncomfortable. She’ll be more than understanding, but you might have to stay in bed tomorrow.”

  Elise grinned and gave a sigh. “Well, it’s not my choice, but better than dancing and carrying on with would-be suitors.”

  “You go ahead up the back stairs, and I’ll let her know. Just ring for your maid. I’m sure it will be fine with everyone. Nobody wants to be responsible for causing you additional pain.” He smiled. “Sometime when the moment is right, perhaps you can tell me of your great adventures on the lake. Maybe I’ll change my mind about wanting to come along.”

  Elise thought of the last storm they’d been in. “Most of my adventure stories would do nothing but dissuade you, but I’ll be happy to share them nonetheless.”

  He gave her a mock salute and went to inform his mother while Elise made her way through the house to the back stairs. She breathed a sigh of relief at being able to return to her room and put on her bedclothes. At least they weren’t confining and uncomfortable.