by Mary Wine
There was a scamper of boots on the hallway that ended when her brother noticed her. Marcus Geoffrey Godford was only six years old. His blue eyes searched her face for a clue to her
opinion of his youthful pace. Her brother
was running away from his nurse once again. It would seem her mother had passed on the same spirit to her sons as well.
Closing the distance, she reached down and picked up her brother.
"Do you have a tart? Or a cake to share, Lorena?" he asked hopefully.
Slipping into her room, Lorena closed the door with nothing more than a whisper.
"Let me think for a moment..."
Marcus punched her in the shoulder, his small face distorted in a frown worthy of any dock prize fighter. "Don't tease. You're an awful sister to toy with me so."
"Did Abby punish you by denying you sweets today?"
Her brother wiggled and she set him down. He pushed his hands into his pockets while his lower lip protruded. "Ah, I didn't mean to make her mad. Honest as can be."
"In that case, I believe I have some cakes."
His face brightened, sending new tears flooding into her eyes. Lifting a carefully placed
dictionary, she pulled the small treats she'd taken from the cook before going to the linen cabinet to mend the sheets and pillowcases. Marcus reached for them eagerly, the tip of his tongue
appearing on his lower lip.
"You're the best sister, Lorena!"
He held his treats close while chewing on one. When it was gone, he smiled at her. "I'd better get back now. Or she'll feed me nothing but boiled beets for supper." He popped the last cake into his mouth on his way toward the door. Tears eased from her eyes as she watched him go. With a sigh she wiped them away.
A heavy step on the stairs vibrated up to the second floor. A second set joined it, climbing up.
Looking out the bedroom door, she watched as one of the stablemen came into view. His
attention was on something he held that was still on the step below him. His expression was tight, and he grunted while lifting whatever it was up to the top of the stairs.
A trunk.
She stared at the black leather case, her fury burning bright once more. She would not shatter.
Her spirit was hers alone and no matter what Godford placed in front of her, she refused to crumple.
Ever.
"He can't mean it." Bethany cast a fuming glare at the trunk.
"When has Godford ever jested?" Lorena placed another carefully folded chemise into the trunk.
Her life was being neatly packed into the thing, one garment at a time.
"You have me there, Lorena, and you are ever a better sport about that man than I can manage."
"Will you have a baby, Lorena?" At sixteen Amelia sounded older than her years.
Lorena's hands hesitated. Her thoughts wandered away from the task of packing toward the all-too-real aspect of having a husband. She had never really given the matter much thought and without a social life there had been no young men to fuel her curiosity about the matter. She wasn't uneducated though. Science was a favorite subject. Books were their main source of
entertainment, and she read everything that came into the house, even sneaking them out of
Godford's study.
"I want to go with you," Amelia announced.
"Hush now, both of you." Her sisters looked shocked at her tone, but Lorena lifted her chin and stared at them. "Unfortunately I fear your times will be upon you soon enough. Best not to tempt Godford to find you husbands today."
"You could refuse to go," Bethany suggested, her eyes brightening with hope.
"He threatened to turn me out without a shilling if I did." Lorena shot her a stern look.
"I'm not sure I would have even been allowed to take my cape."
Bethany lost her color. Amelia sputtered in outrage.
"That.. .that diseased toad! I pray he's impotent."
"If your husband's penis is limp, you will not have a baby." Bethany spoke smooth and sweetly as though she was reciting a bible verse. Lorena stared at her until she couldn't hold back her amusement.
Bethany shrugged. "But the stable lads call it a cock, not a penis as the medical texts do."
Lorena resumed her packing. "Lord, Bethany, the things you say."
"Oh bother." Bethany rolled her eyes. "What is the point of all these books if I'm expected to keep my mouth shut every time someone says something intelligent?"
They never pinched the candle out. It burned lower and lower through the dark hours of the
morning until it sputtered out in a pool of melted wax. Dawn was teasing the horizon with pink and yellow wisps. Lorena lay with her sisters, chattering in hushed voices. The rising sun
sobered her but she had to admit to a bit of excitement too. She loved the sea. Her father had often taken her to the shipyard. Maybe it was the fact that Godford ran such a cold house, but she couldn't think about today without a little joy for knowing she was going to once again stand on a ship.
Well, her stepfather hadn't managed to kill all the happiness in the house. Maybe that was the lesson she needed to recall during her journey. She could choose to be happy and avoid dwelling on the facts she did not care for.
A soft sigh passed her lips. It was a fine plan, but her mind was already turning the idea of a husband over and over. A baby? No doubt that task would be set on the top of her list of duties.
It was the function of a wife after all. But it wasn't becoming a mother she hesitated over; rather it was the blunt necessity of performing the physical act needed for conception.
Ladies did not enjoy intercourse. All the medical journals she'd read agreed on that. But she'd read so many things in those publications about what she shouldn't like and what she supposedly enjoyed that it was a large puzzle now.
How did men understand a woman anyway? Her stepfather was forever dictating their lives, but he never asked them if they liked one thing over another.
Rising from the bed, Lorena sat in front of the vanity mirror. It was an oval one, framed in silver.
It had belonged to their mother. Reaching out, she traced the small flowers the silversmith had fashioned. A sniffle from behind her cut into her heart. Just like an hourglass, their time was running dry. Amelia picked up the brush and began pulling it
through Lorena's hair in long, slow strokes. A knock on the door saved them all from having to speak while grief was choking them.
The downstairs head maid, Ruth, entered with her arms full of parchment-wrapped parcels. Two more maids followed, carrying more items.
"These are to be added to your trunk, miss." She set them down but selected one and carried it toward Lorena. She carefully undid one side of the wrapping. "The master sent round to the tailor for some new things. Even with the short notice we have a fine number for you to take along."
Inside the package was a golden-colored garment. There was no way to judge the cut or design of the dress, but the fabric was soft and shiny. Ruth tucked the paper back into place.
"You'll have plenty of time to look it all over. There are a few books too, as well as a set of bed linens to be embroidered during your voyage."
"Yes, of course." Her linens should have been begun years ago. A well-bred bride arrived with bedding carefully monogrammed by her own hands.
Ruth snapped her fingers at the two maids following her. "Don't dawdle. We haven't time."
They sprang into action instantly. One maid unwrapped a bundle, the paper crinkling in the quiet room. The other motioned Amelia aside before she began arranging Lorena's hair. It was slightly shocking to have the woman's hands on her. No one ever bothered with them. The maid didn't
speak but braided and pinned her hair with efficient motions. That left Lorena with the
opportunity to look at her reflection.
Was she pretty?
She had never taken the time to contemplate such an idea. Her hair was neither
blonde nor brown but streaked with both colors. Her cheekbones were high and her chin small. Her eyes were a dark blue, as her father's had been. She gazed at the mirror no closer to answering her question.
Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and the face staring back at her was simply familiar. She was taller than both maids. Her sisters were as well. She had always considered that a blessing because she was strong and seemed to have good endurance for a long day's work, but she had listened to other girls at church praise the virtues of petite girls over those of larger-framed ones.
"These are a new set of stays, more in fashion with our young queen's modest decorum."
A rap on the door brought another maid into the room. She held a dress across her arms carefully to avoid wrinkling it. This one was soft green. Lorena couldn't help but adore it. The color would complement her darker hair. Both of her sisters were lucky enough to have their mother's blonde hair completely. They would look dreadful in the darker shade of green.
"Up with you now."
Another snap of Ruth's fingers and Lorena was urged off the stool by the maids. They
surrounded her the moment she complied, one holding the new stays out for her to place her
arms through. The other remained behind her to lace them tight. The dress was lifted high and slid down her body. It was a plain dress, with only piping to give it any decoration. But the color was such a change from the dull gray she wore every day except Sunday that she couldn't keep from smiling at her reflection.
"We've a good bonnet for you too."
It was a straw one with muslin sewn neatly to the inside of it so it wouldn't scratch her face. The sides were long in the current fashion of making sure ladies did not cast sidelong glances at men.
Newly crowned queen Victoria was modest to an extreme. The lack of ornamentation on the
dress was in response to the young queen's habit of wearing plainer dresses.
"Well the dress suits you well." Ruth frowned, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She bit her lower lip before taking a stiff breath. With a wave of her hand, the other maids went scurrying toward the door. She looked at Amelia and Bethany and pointed them to the door as well.
The room was suddenly empty. Ruth pegged her with an unwavering look.
"With your mother gone, are there any questions you have?"
Ruth sounded strained and actually horrified by the topic. Her lips were pressed into a tight line while she waited.
"No, but thank you all the same."
Relief washed over Ruth's face. "Excellent. There is no need to worry, none at all. You're not a girl after all. Quite the time for marriage. The master is correct."
The senior maid took the opportunity to escape, hurrying from the room. Lorena smiled at her skirts slipping around the doorframe. But a distinct snap of Ruth's fingers killed her amusement.
"Don't dawdle, Lorena. Ships sail with the tide not on the whims of silly girls."
So they did.
Casting a look around the room, Lorena fought off the grief that tried to choke her once more. It was easier now and her cheeks colored with a touch of shame for being eager to begin her
journey.
Yet she was. Inside her was years of learning about things through books. Between the black-and-white printed words, her mind had learned to see the world her stepfather kept her locked away from. She thirsted for the sight of those things she had only seen in pencil sketches and descriptions.
She just wished her destination wasn't so horrible. But there was no time for her to hesitate. The morning was brightening. Her stepfather waited in the entryway as impeccably dressed as always.
At least she would enjoy bidding one person farewell.
But hugging her sisters was likely to break her heart. Amelia and Bethany stood lined up near the front door, even Marcus and Lucius were present. She barely knew her half-brothers. Godford kept them sequestered in the nursery, as was the growing fashion, with only nursemaids and
tutors. Affection was frowned on, the men of science warning that too much mothering made for weak-willed adults.
Lucius stood ramrod straight, his eyes forward. The level of discipline might be admirable but Lorena still found it sad in a boy of only seven. Marcus was still but his gaze wandered toward the foot of the stairs when she reached it. His front teeth appeared for a moment as he chewed on his lower lip.
"Well then, I see you are ready."
Lifting her chin, Lorena stared at her stepfather. She refused to behave meekly by lowering her eyes. It might be silent, but actions spoke more clearly than words at times.
He surprised her by grinning. A gleam of approval entered his eyes. "You are not a coward, Lorena, that much I will say well of you."
It was the first compliment he had ever graced her with. The doors opened, letting in a draft of cool morning air. The street traffic was busy, the sound of horse hooves and leather filling in the awkward silence. Godford strode down the front steps. One quick, tight hug and Ruth was
pushing her forward.
The front path felt so lonely. Her heart ached as she felt the house growing farther and farther behind her with each step. But Godford was correct, she was no coward. With a single look
behind her, she turned and followed her stepfather.
If God was gracious.. .it would be the last time she ever had to obey the man.
"You think me a harsh man."
It took Lorena a moment to realize her stepfather was actually speaking to her. His attention was on her while the carriage rocked gently.
"The world is merciless. I was harsh to save you from falling into the hands of the law." He paused for a moment. "You will see. Bermuda is a penal colony. Before you judge me, I suggest you look at what might have been your lot if I'd allowed you to run wild."
"I doubt a kind word now and again would have transformed me into a thief."
Her stepfather's lips rose into that odd grin he'd shown her earlier. "I am a man of business. Like it or not, you have steel in your spine because of my rules. There is no substitute for learning something than doing it with your own hands. I worked you like a maid so you will not be
cheated by the staff in your husband's home."
"My father was a businessman."
Godford's expression tightened. "And he left you and your mother at the mercy of his soft hearted ways. He expanded too quickly, a risk that nearly put your mother on the street. The truest accomplishment of a businessman is to keep his estate solid at all times in case fate decides his days are finished. The first duty of a husband is to ensure his family does not suffer upon his death."
Lorena swallowed hard. However much she detested her stepfather, she discovered herself
agreeing with him because she recalled all too well the look of fear which had haunted her
mother's eyes in the weeks following her father's death.
"Think what you will, Lorena, but I loved your mother."
She gasped. "You do not love anything but your money." And she didn't care if he thought her too bold.
The sides of his mouth rose again. "You know little of my true feelings, madam, a fact I ensured for your own good. Left with three young women under my roof who were not my own blood, it
was necessary to make sure the staff never suspected any illicit behavior. Making it appear I detested the three of you on sight served that purpose."
Shock held her silent for a long moment, the horrible idea that he might have touched her turning her stomach queasy.
"I loved your mother enough to marry her indecently soon after your father died." His hand tightened around the ever-present riding crop. "And I loved her enough to ensure that was the very last time the gossips had anything to say about her or her children."
Passion coated his voice and there was no denying it. He watched her, his eyes as piercing as ever.
"Dislike me all you wish, but rest assured that I will never leave my sons wanting at my death."
&
nbsp; "But there is room for affection in a family."
He sighed. "You have only seen the strict side of my nature. Regrettable but necessary because you are my stepdaughter. Lucius and Marcus know me better."
"I would like to believe that."
"Your sisters will never know it until they wed."
Hard determination rang through his tone once more. It was a sound too familiar to her ears. But there was also something flickering in his eyes that she had always dismissed as gleeful
enjoyment of her sufferings. Now she found herself wondering if it was in fact lament for what he believed he must do to ensure her good name. There was one thing she did agree with him on completely, the gossips needed to be silenced. Wagging tongues could destroy a young girl's chance for a good match.
"Send them to good men." Lorena drew a deep breath. "Please."
"I will send them to strong men who will never leave them holding babes on the street. Your mother followed her heart when she wed your father instead of me. It dropped her neatly in front of the wolves. But I did not hold it against her when she came back to me because I loved her."
Lorena covered her mouth with a gloved hand because her jaw was hanging open, one too many
revelations to hold inside a calm exterior. Godford smiled once more.
"Love is a trap, madam. It has its steel teeth dug into me to this day. That is the reason I never remarried. I still miss your mother." His expression sobered. "The greatest gift I could give her was to raise you up strong and to place you with a man who will never abandon you even at his death. Adam Mordaunt is a man of good reputation, but more importantly his financial affairs are in sound order. I never allowed you and your sisters to attend parties where you might have been taken in by a penniless whelp intent on getting his paws on your inheritance. A man like that will bed you and leave you once the money is spent. Hate me if you like, but I will keep my vow to your mother."
"What vow?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I promised her I would look after her children. All of them."
The carriage stopped. Her stepfather stiffened, drawing in a deep breath. "I have done all I can to ensure you do not have to suffer the same grief your mother did. Strength is the only thing a woman really has to protect her against this world. Remember I helped put some of that steel in your spine. More importantly, remember that emotions will muddle your brain if you don't hold strictly to your objectives."
