Deborah Hale

by The Bride Ship

  When he started to sputter about how infeasible that would be, she reminded him, “The sooner we get started, the sooner my work will be done and the sooner you will be rid of me.”

  “Yes, yes!” Sir Robert cast his eyes heavenward. “Might as well give up now as waste more time fighting a rearguard action doomed to fail. I will consult with Mr. Duckworth to see how soon we can arrange a levee.”

  “Why thank you, sir!” Jocelyn tried not to gloat over her victory. “I am certain it will be a great success. May I make one further suggestion?”

  “Is there anything I could say to prevent you?”

  She chuckled at his humor. “This is for your benefit, I promise. I do not believe we should restrict the presentations to my charges alone. That would likely cause some resentment toward us. Instead you should issue a general invitation to all eligible young ladies. It might win you some goodwill from local families of consequence.”

  “You might be on to something there.” The governor stroked his chin as he pondered her suggestion. “I could use a little goodwill for a change.”

  Mr. Duckworth returned just then. “With your permission, sir, I have arranged to dispatch your small gig out to Prince’s Lodge for Mrs. Finch’s use.”

  Sir Robert nodded. “I seldom have need of one carriage, let alone two. The gig will do well enough for me, come to that. Let Mrs. Finch have the loan of my town coach and driver. He is always grumbling about not having enough to do. No doubt the ladies can keep him well occupied.”

  Had she heard right? Jocelyn wondered. Was Governor Kerr granting her a favor she hadn’t been obliged to badger and battle him for? Perhaps his initial failure to provide her with a carriage had not been deliberate after all.

  “That is very generous of you, sir.” She swept him her most elaborate curtsy. “Now I will not keep you from your work any longer. I must get back to relieve Mrs. Carmont.”

  The governor bowed. “Good day to you, madam. My coach will be in your possession by nightfall. I trust you will make good use of it.”

  When Mr. Duckworth moved to escort her to the door, Jocelyn shook her head. “I can find my own way out. I do not want to keep the governor from consulting you about plans for the levee.”

  As she breezed out of Sir Robert’s study, she heard Mr. Duckworth say, “Levee? Are you hosting a levee, sir?”

  She paused in the anteroom to retie her bonnet.

  Sir Robert’s exasperated sigh wafted through the half-open door to his study. “It seems I am. Though I’d just as soon attend a hanging…as the convict.”

  After a moment of silence, Mr. Duckworth gave a forced-sounding chuckle. “Ah, you’re joking again, aren’t you, sir? ‘As the convict.’ Ha-ha. Very good.”

  “Believe me, Duckworth, unless you think bearbaiting jolly sport, there is nothing amusing about the torment I suffer at social functions of that ilk.”

  She was not eavesdropping, Jocelyn insisted to her conscience as she lingered, fussing with the bow of her bonnet.

  “You find them tiresome, sir?” Mr. Duckworth sounded as surprised by his master’s revelation as Jocelyn was.

  “Not tiresome, so much as just…damned awkward. I always manage to say the wrong thing or stand about dumb because I have no idea what to say. When my blasted foot acts up, I’m a menace to the toes of any poor lady unlucky enough to dance with me. But if I refuse to dance, I appear arrogant and unsociable.”

  “Then why are you hosting a levee, sir?”

  “Because I’ve been a soldier,” the governor growled, “and I know when surrender is my only option.”

  “Oh, I see!” This time the young man’s laughter sounded sincere. “She’s quite a lady, isn’t she, sir?”

  “She’ll be the ruin of me before she’s through.”

  As Jocelyn skulked in the anteroom, feeling more ashamed of her behavior every minute, she wished she could be certain this was only one of Sir Robert’s jests.

  On the drive back out to the Prince’s Lodge, she tried to concentrate on making plans for the weeks ahead. The Carmonts could be counted upon to host a ball for the officers of the garrison. Not wanting to be outdone, the admiral would probably do the same for his men. And Mr. Power—Sally claimed he had an enormous fortune. All the better to host a truly lavish evening’s entertainment.

  With a little assistance, Jocelyn might be able to host a gathering at the Prince’s Lodge. If ever there was a place to foster romance, that was surely it. All those winding paths for courting couples to stroll while the little waterfall splashed in the background and music wafted uphill from that pretty domed music pavilion by the shore. Could there be a more picturesque spot for a marriage proposal than beside the heart-shaped pond?

  If only poor Ned were still alive and they could stroll those paths arm in arm, exclaiming over the miniature Chinese temple or gazing down at the magnificent view of the basin. But Ned was gone, rest his dear soul, and with him all Jocelyn’s romantic dreams. Instead, she must take vicarious delight in the courtship of her charges. Many of them had grown so dear to her, they were almost like the younger sisters she’d once longed for, or the daughters she and Ned might have had. She wanted to see them all wed as happily as she had been—though not so briefly.

  Sally looked relieved to see Jocelyn when she arrived back at Prince’s Lodge. “You do have your hands full with this position, my dear. Why, you must feel like the mother of an enormous family!”

  “Very like.” Jocelyn gave a warm but weary chuckle as she removed her gloves and doffed her bonnet. That was part of what had drawn her to the post.

  “The girls are all occupied with unpacking and exploring the grounds.” Her friend drew Jocelyn into a small sitting room. “Let me call for a nice pot of tea. Then you and I can have a proper chat.”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea.” Jocelyn sank onto the settee. It would be pleasant to converse with a woman her own age rather than one of the girls in need of correction, comfort or reassurance. “Have I told you yet what a godsend it has been to find you here? What would I have done without you?”

  “You tell me so almost every time we meet.” Sally signaled to one of the girls who happened to be passing and sent her off to fetch tea. “Of course I am delighted to have been of service, but I fancy you would have prevailed, even without my help.”

  She crossed to the settee and sat down beside Jocelyn. “So tell me what brings the daughter of a marquess to Nova Scotia as the chaperone of a bride ship?”

  Jocelyn stiffened at the mention of her father. “I am no longer the daughter of a marquess, Sally. I stopped being that when his lordship disowned me for marrying against his wishes.”

  “When I heard that your husband had been killed, I felt for you with all my heart.” Sally clasped Jocelyn’s hands. “I remember how I feared for my dear Will during the battles. Did your father not relent even after you were widowed?”

  Jocelyn gave a bitter, mirthless chuckle. “Oh, he made the magnanimous gesture of offering his wayward daughter a roof over her head, if that is what you mean.”

  “That’s something at least,” said Sally.

  It galled Jocelyn to hear anyone defend her father. “I assure you, His Grace’s motives were not admirable. He simply wanted to cloister me at Breckland so my activities would not cause further gossip. And to make certain I showed proper remorse for my sins.”

  Her hand clenched into a fist as tight and unyielding as her resentment. “I vowed I would starve before I’d accept his penance masquerading as pity.”

  “You were fortunate not to starve.” Sally gave a mild shudder. “You must have had some money put by.”

  “Precious little. Some jewels I was obliged to sell. My true good fortune was to fall in with Mrs. Beamish, bless her heart. I appealed to her seeking assistance for two young widows of Ned’s junior officers. One thing led to another until I found myself aboard the Hestia sailing for Halifax.”

  “I only wish I’d known.” Sally shook h
er head. “Surely you had other friends who would have been happy to assist you.”

  “Perhaps they would, but I am determined never again to be dependent on anyone else for my living. It gives others far too much power over one.”

  Sally did not look comfortable with that thought. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. Tell me, did you manage to bully a carriage out of Sir Robert?”

  Had she bullied the governor? A few hours ago Jocelyn would have scoffed at the notion. Now she was not so sure. “Sir Robert has agreed to provide us with a carriage.”

  “You know,” said Sally, “for all the man is no favorite of mine, I do not believe he meant to strand you out here with no means of getting into town.”

  “I expect you’re right.” Could Jocelyn feel more ashamed of her behavior? “It was probably an oversight.”

  “And who could blame him, poor fellow, with all the other preparations he had to make for your arrival?” Sally’s gaze swept the room. “I must say, the crew he hired did a fine job in such a short time. Of course, Sir Robert would never tolerate a slipshod effort.”

  “Do you mean Governor Kerr had the house cleaned for us?”

  Before Sally could answer, another voice drew Jocelyn’s attention to the doorway.

  “That’s true, ma’am.” The cook shuffled in with a tea tray. “Mr. Governor, he told me to round up a bunch of gals who could work hard for a good night’s pay. We lit the fires and opened the windows to air the place out. Then we scrubbed and swept and dusted from suppertime till breakfast.”

  “You all did a fine job,” said Sally. “This place had been closed ever since the last governor left for Quebec. I feared Mrs. Finch and the young ladies would find it in a sorry state.”

  Jocelyn remembered her own anxiety on that score…and her suspicion that Sir Robert might have offered them unsuitable accommodations out of spite or in hopes that they would leave Halifax in disgust.

  Miz Ada set down the tea tray on a table in front of the settee. “Mr. Governor knows how to put in a good night’s work, too. Him and that young Mr. Duckworth fetched us water and toted wood for the fires.”

  “Thank you, Ada.” Jocelyn willed her hands not to tremble as she commenced to pour tea. It seemed she had only begun to plumb the depths of shame. “I fear I have misjudged Sir Robert very badly indeed.”

  Why had he gone to so much trouble on her account when he did not want the bride ship in his colony? And after she had done nothing but badger him and rally opposition against him?

  “I must find a way to make it up to the poor man. But how?”

  Two days of hard rain left the Windsor coach road in a sorry state, but on the third day the sun elected to give Halifax a tantalizing foretaste of summer. For some unaccountable reason, those golden rays streaming through Sir Robert’s study window provoked a restless itch to be out in the fresh air.

  Almost before he knew it, he found himself riding toward Prince’s Lodge with an invitation card in his pocket. The rational part of him wanted to turn around and head back to Government House. But he’d had no word from Mrs. Finch since the day she’d stormed into his study demanding a carriage and a levee. Perhaps the bad weather had kept her from traveling. Still, he felt a responsibility to make certain all was well with her. He was the lady’s host…in a manner of speaking.

  By the side of the road, a plump robin in his jaunty red waistcoat grubbed a meal of worms from the wet ground. Other birds chirped and trilled from the branches of trees that were beginning to bud. Drops of moisture sparkled on the bright green shoots of undergrowth. The air had a pungent, fertile aroma of new growth rising up from the decay of the old, all faintly seasoned with the ever-present whiff of brine.

  When Sir Robert urged his chestnut gelding to a brisk canter, its hooves sent tiny gobbets of mud flying, some of which spattered his boots. Just then, he did not care. After a dark, cold, colonial winter, a ride in the fresh country air and warm spring sunshine was exactly the tonic he needed. Indeed, he felt as if he’d taken a tonic—a bracing, potent one.

  “Good morning, ma’am!” He doffed his hat to a woman beating a mat on the doorstep of the Rockingham Inn.

  She gave him a suspicious look, but when he was a little way past her she called out, “Morning to you, too, sir!”

  A short while later, Sir Robert spied the pale green dome of the prince’s music pavilion through the surrounding trees. As he drew nearer, he noticed a number of young women walking around the building and peering in its many windows.

  “I beg your pardon,” he called. “Would Mrs. Finch happen to be down here with you?”

  The lasses started at his question and flocked together. After a bit of nudging and whispering among them, a tall girl with very dark hair and brows answered. “No, sir. You’ll find her up at the lodge.”

  Sir Robert thanked her for the information then turned his mount toward the open gate at the foot of the lane.

  “Please, sir?”

  He glanced back, brows raised.

  “Are you the governor of Nova Scotia?”

  Though he tended to be uncomfortable in the presence of so many females, something about their wide stares made Sir Robert smile as he doffed his hat. “At your service, ladies.”

  Most of the party hid their faces and tittered. Perhaps they were unused to being addressed as ladies.

  The dark-headed girl was not so easily ruffled as her friends. “Is it true you’re going to host a ball for us at Government House, where we’ll be presented…like debutantes?”

  “That is correct.” Sir Robert patted his vest pocket. “I have come bearing an invitation for all of you.”

  This news caused a great flutter among them.

  “Good day, ladies.”

  He had almost reached the gate when one of them called out, “Are you married, sir?” That caused a riot of squeals and giggles to erupt around the pavilion.

  Pretending not to hear, Sir Robert kept on riding. But a fierce blush rose from the top of his collar to warm his cheeks.

  Fortunately, it had faded by the time he reached the house. All the same, it left him wary of approaching any of the groups of young women strolling the grounds. Some looked to be enjoying their leisure while others were clearly busy with chores.

  Mrs. Finch was nowhere in sight, but Sir Robert noticed Miz Ada bustling around her kitchen. Climbing down from his horse, he tethered the beast, then strode toward the cook. She was one of the few women he could talk to without any awkwardness. Her forthright manner and vast capacity for hard work reminded him of his Scottish mother.

  “A very good morning to you, Ada.” He took off his hat and bowed to her as he would have to Mrs. Carmont or the bishop’s wife. “How are you getting on out here? Ready to come back to Government House, yet? I expect it would feel like a holiday after cooking for such a crew.”

  “Morning, Mr. Governor.” Ada wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m content to bide here a spell longer. You know I hate being idle. I like to feed folks and these poor gals need feeding after being on that ship so long. I hardly need to wash the plates after a meal, they’re picked so clean.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Sir Robert noticed a pair of girls carrying wood. “And I’m pleased to see the young ladies are helping out. I’d thought I might need to hire some maids.”

  “No, sir,” said Ada. “Mrs. Finch put them right to work. They all have their chores to do and most of ’em are real willing and respectful.”

  “How are you getting on with Mrs. Finch? Not finding her too overbearing, I hope?”

  Ada thrust out her lower lip. “We get on just fine, sir. Oh, she says what she wants and expects to know why if she don’t get it. But she’s got to, or these gals would run wild.”

  “Indeed.” His years as an army officer had taught Sir Robert the necessity of a firm hand and a decisive will when it came to maintaining order and discipline in the ranks.

  He also knew that civilians often found military men
too direct and domineering. Was it possible part of his annoyance with Mrs. Finch stemmed from their being too much alike in that respect? The notion gave him pause.

  “Speaking of Mrs. Finch—” he still saw no sign of her “—would you happen to know where I might find her? There are some matters we need to discuss.”

  The cook pointed back toward a wooded area of the estate. “I told her to get herself out for a walk while the weather was fine. She was looking a little peaked. I thought some fresh air and quiet would do her good. You never heard the like of the noise in that house when all those gals get to chattering.”

  Sir Robert barely suppressed a shudder. Accustomed as he was to the dignified hush of Government House, the thought of forty women all talking at once horrified him. He did not envy Mrs. Finch her duty. Why had she undertaken it? he wondered. And why did she pursue it with such single-minded passion?

  He bobbed a parting bow to the cook. “If you will excuse me, then, I must go in search of the elusive Mrs. Finch.”

  “Have a good walk, Mr. Governor.” Ada waved him away, clearly eager to get back to work. “You could use a little sunshine, yourself.”

  Her tone of fond scolding warmed Sir Robert as he headed into the woodland behind the lodge. He hoped he would not have to wander its winding paths long to find Mrs. Finch. The work he’d left unfinished on his desk had begun to weigh on his mind.

  He had not gone far when he rounded a bend to find himself almost on top of her. She sat on a rustic bench beneath a dainty arbor, its roof supported by trellises. It must be a pretty spot in the summer when wild woodbine or ivy twined up the open frame. For the moment, Sir Robert did not regret its bareness, which gave him a better view of its occupant as she stared off toward a small stand of fragrant cedar, lost in thought.

  Jocelyn Finch was a beautiful woman, with her mass of rich, dark hair and her features which managed to appear both lush and delicate. Something more drew Sir Robert to her, quite against his will, as he had never found himself drawn to a woman before.