by Jana Petken
Night sailing ensured that most passengers, by now exhausted with long days of waiting to board, went straight to their allotted bunks and slept the night through, waking up to the sight of an endless ocean of water. Passengers were discouraged from roaming around the decks, day or night, and were given just an hour or so a day to inhale fresh air into their lungs before being urged to go back down below.
Jacob was tall, and that gave him an advantage, for he could look over the heads of most men, thus having a better chance of spotting Mercy even from a distance. He walked on, head moving and eyes focusing left to right. He even turned around to look backwards and double-checked that he’d not missed her slight form in the crowds. He finally saw her, and his heart and stomach lurched, leaving him breathless.
She was walking slowly, pushing against people going in the opposite direction. Every now and again, she stopped to gaze lovingly at the ships. He could see her wide eyes filled with longing and sadness. Mercy’s overall demeanour was what he could only describe as hopeless. She had no spring in her step and was not really concentrating on where she was walking either. He could only imagine the thoughts spinning in her head. She was alone, a vulnerable woman without funds or hope.
She was, as he’d thought, heading for the port gates and ultimately the city. He wondered if she knew what a snake-infested pit it was. It could swallow a lone woman whole, and no one would care or notice. Bodies were found stabbed, shot, or beaten to a pulp every day. There were many good people around, but there were also those of the same ilk as the two men who had tried to kill a bunch of women in the du Pont mansion.
Jacob quickened his pace. He’d met her for a reason. He’d saved her for a reason. Now she was in his life. No matter what was in his future, she was supposed to be in his present.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mercy walked on and then turned around in a full circle just to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She saw no one she recognised and walked on again, this time manoeuvring in a zigzagging pattern to the left, where the ugly grey buildings stood, blackened by steam, coal, and smoke from remnants of small fires lit by travellers. In her mind, being close to walls would give her more security.
She looked up to the very top of the buildings and saw that most were flat-roofed. She brought her eyes down to focus on the wide doors, some shut, some open. From where she stood, she could easily make out what was inside these great shells. They had three walls, but the doors were so wide at the front that they took up almost the entire frontage, without brick or mortar being required. Inside the great open-spaced buildings were crates and equipment coming and going to foreign lands. She suddenly wished she could find refuge inside a crate, fall asleep, and wake up on the other side of the world.
Tucked between two of these buildings was a small bakery. She stopped to look through the glass window, seeing bread, sweetmeats, and pastries on shelves, three high. Her fear of being found by Madame du Pont or her henchmen, Eddie and Sam, was not her only concern. Having no money to buy food and no safe place to sleep were more fearsome and much bigger problems. She had no purse with shillings or farthings. She had the clothes on her back, which would begin to smell and darken with mud and dirt within days. She could bear the cold and probably find a discarded crate on the roadside to sleep in for a night or two. But she would have to beg for water and food, and that was the most terrifying thought of all. She had always been poor and had gone without food for a day or two, but she had never had to beg for anything in her life.
She cursed her foolish pride. Had she taken some funds from Jacob Stone, that kind, wonderful man, she would have avoided these added worries. She should have taken enough to get her safely on a train, which would have taken her out of harm’s way and allowed her to start afresh somewhere else.
Her name rang out loud and clear. She recognised the voice. She turned from the window and saw Jacob Stone, the American, now standing inches from her.
They were forcibly pushed together by the crowd. The noise in the port was deafening. Bags, babies, sacks of clothes, heavy boxes, and even pots and pans rattling made it impossible to hear what Jacob was saying.
Mercy stared open-mouthed and felt a rush of pure joy coursing through her body. She was practically in his arms, unable to take a step backwards or sideways, and she could hardly contain her happiness.
Jacob held her elbow, and she allowed him to guide her inside the small bakery. A queue of people stretched from the counter and snaked all the way outside into the street. Jacob walked past the counter, still holding on to her elbow, and took her to a curtained-off area. Behind the curtain were tables and chairs filled with those who could afford an afternoon tea in luxury. Jacob found them a small table for two, which sat against a far wall.
Mercy looked into his sparkling kind eyes and felt her belly flutter as it had this morning when she first met him. He was smiling. He was clearly happy to see her too.
Jacob allowed Mercy to order tea and cake before he spoke. This also gave him time to rehearse the words he wanted to use lest he come out with a load of incoherent drivel. He looked into her nervous and enquiring eyes and waited until she was comfortable before he spoke. “I’m sure glad I found you in time, Miss Mercy. I thought I was too late.”
“I don’t understand. Too late for what? Have I done something wrong?”
“No, ma’am, you’ve done nothing wrong,” he told her. “You may be an answer to a prayer – not mine. That would be my sister-in-law’s prayer. You see … Well, what I wanted to say—”
Tea arrived. Jacob was grateful for the distraction. He was making a complete ass of things, whereas usually he had no problem articulating his words. Mercy had a strange effect on him. He was grappling with words and looking into her beautiful emerald eyes at the same time. They were disconcerting and left him fumbling.
“I was disappointed when I got back to the Christina and you’d already left. I thought I’d never see you again, and that would have been a tragedy. You see, I specifically went back to search you out and to speak to you. I want to offer you employment.”
Mercy opened her mouth to speak, but Jacob silenced her. “No. Wait, please, Miss Mercy. Before you say anything, let me finish. I don’t want you to be afraid or think ill of my intentions. I just need you to listen to my proposal before you give me an answer. I promise you I’ll answer any questions you might have and put your mind at ease if you’ll just hear me out. Will you allow me to do that?”
Mercy nodded but nervously bit her lip.
Jacob cleared his throat. He unintentionally forked his fingers through his hair before taking in and then exhaling a long, deep breath.
“I’ve just met up with my brother, Hendry, and his wife, Belle. They’re presently on our other ship. The ship is called the Carrabelle, and it will leave for Virginia with us on board tomorrow night.”
“Yes?” Mercy had to say, now impatient with curiosity and hope. She had relaxed her body as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. She had been worried that he had found out what she’d done and had come to hand her over to the coppers.
“Belle is with child and has only four months left until she comes to term. She and Hendry have lived on the sea, but of course, this changes everything. They now find themselves having to give up the ship to go home with me. She asked me just an hour ago to find a young lady who could keep company with her on the voyage. She’s going to be spending a lot of time in her cabin. If you knew Belle, you’d agree that she’s a woman who doesn’t take kindly to being cooped up like a chicken. Miss Mercy, it would mean the world to her if she had a female companion – not a servant; you shouldn’t think that at all. She needs someone to talk to, play rummy with, or just to stroll on deck with occasionally. My brother’s afraid for her health.”
“She’s a woman working on a ship?” Mercy questioned, still unable to comprehend anything else he was saying.
“Yes. It’s rare, I know, and her family are not best pleased. But Bell
e and Hendry love each other and won’t be parted. Forgive me, but I told her about your situation, that you might be happy to have this opportunity. I know I’m asking you to leave your country and go to an unknown land, but you would be doing my family a great honour and you would be well taken care of. So what do you say?”
Mercy realised that her mouth was open. She snapped it shut and repeated his words in her mind. She could scarcely believe Jacob’s offer, yet he had made it abundantly clear. This wonderful, kind man was asking her to go to America and leave England behind. He was offering her the chance to get rid of every rotten memory and more – the pain suffered in her short life. She would have employment, funds, and dignity, which were things even her grandparents had withheld from her. A new life, she kept thinking; a new world, with Jacob Stone in it!
Again tears threatened to spill over her lashes. The thought of remaining in Liverpool had been a necessary but rotten proposition. Now the very idea of it was abhorrent to her. Five minutes ago, she had walked the road with a heavy heart, dreading the moment she would pass through the gates and onto strange and dangerous Liverpool streets. Jacob Stone had come and cast aside her despair. He had replaced it with hope and a future that sounded better than anything she could ever imagine here in England.
Mercy was just about to say yes, but then a troubling thought struck her. “Mr Stone – Jacob. I like the sound of your proposal very much, for I really don’t want to remain in this city. I’m scared, if truth be told. I have nothing and no one. I’ll be very honest with you: I see no hope for my situation. But what will happen to me when your sister-in-law no longer needs me? Surely she has family, sisters, a mother, and friends who will keep her company. What will I do? Will I be cast out onto the streets in a foreign land?”
Jacob shook his head in horror. “That will never be the case. We look after our own. You’ll have funds and freedom. You’ll never be left to wander any street alone, not while I draw breath.”
Jacob said nothing more. Instead, he watched her mind at work and waited for her to speak again. Mercy had to ask her questions, more questions, he deduced by her transparent expression. She had to be sure and content with her decision. He would hate himself if he was responsible for any future unhappiness or doubts that might plague her already tattered life.
Mercy finally looked up at him. He gazed at her with a candid expression as though he could read her mind. It unnerved her. He was the only person she’d ever known who had the ability to really see her through a facade she’d been building around her for years. She said, “You say you own a plantation. Is it like a farm? I’ve never been on a farm. I’ve never seen the countryside or smelled fresh, clean air or seen a sky without a smoggy haze. But I’m a quick learner. I could work on your farm when your sister-in-law no longer needs me, couldn’t I?”
Jacob smiled. “You needn’t worry about that. I have a farm, as you call it. In Virginia, my farm is called a plantation. I’m a planter. It’s full to the brim with workers. I have so many that I hardly know what to do with them all at times.”
He grew serious when he next spoke. “This must be scaring you. I’m asking you to step into the unknown, into a new world. But you will have a bright future, I promise you. My family will be in your debt, and we’ll always look after you. I give you my word as a Southern gentleman. You will never have to worry about being without funds or dread seeing Madame du Pont or whatever that despicable creature’s name was ever again. Say yes – if not for me, for Belle.”
Mercy’s heart was pounding, yet it felt as light as a feather. She had never felt such happiness or so blessed. She smiled, and her face lit up. “Yes. Yes, Jacob, I accept your offer. It would be an honour to keep your sister-in-law company. I won’t let you down, not one little bit.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mercy slipped the nightgown over her head, pushed her arms into the wrist-length frilly sleeves, and pulled the soft garment down to her ankles. She looked at the wall clock. She had two hours before she would have to dress for dinner. She would spoil herself with a brief nap. She lay on top of the bunk, rested her head on the soft pillow, and watched the last of the day’s grey light peek through the porthole. She sighed, happy and contented after another wonderful day with her new friend, Belle.
After two weeks at sea, Mercy had found her sea legs and was surprisingly healthy, even during the strongest of winds and roughest of squalls. Belle had given her an entire wardrobe of gowns, coats, shawls, and hats, but Mercy had found herself more at home in breeches, shirt, and a long woollen coat. She remembered Belle’s words: “There’s no need to traipse around this ship in cumbersome gowns.” Belle had laughed when Mercy brought corset into the conversation. “I declare, Mercy, I can’t remember the last time I had to wear one of those detestable undergarments on a ship. My gowns are much simpler. They allow me to breathe freely.”
Before leaving Liverpool, Belle had been forced to purchase new gowns, nightgowns, and undergarments that would be comfortable right up until the bump on her belly grew to the size of a giant pumpkin.
Mercy smiled fondly. That’s what Hendry called Belle nowadays: his pumpkin.
Mercy had grown up with a sewing needle and thread in her fingers, and she had managed to widen Belle’s breeches, albeit with other materials. Belle, in return, had given Mercy more garments than she’d ever owned in her entire life.
As days and nights passed, Mercy found herself more and more at ease with the affluent family and their crew. This comfortable integration was due in part to Belle’s efforts, as she’d made it clear from the first moment they met that Mercy was on board as her companion, not as a servant. Luckily, the women had discovered common ground in character.
Mercy thought about the last two weeks. Belle was the best of companions. She was kind and light-hearted, and her stories about growing up in Virginia and on her parents’ sprawling plantation entertained both of them for hours.
Belle also spoke about Stone Plantation and its beauty. She was adamant that it was probably the best and most prosperous plantation in Virginia. Mercy had wanted to know more about her new home but was told that she should just wait to be overwhelmed when she saw it with her own eyes.
During her first few days aboard, Mercy had listened but had spoken only when urged to do so. Belle seemed to sense her need for silence and never questioned or forced her to talk about her life. This thoughtfulness was what had drawn Mercy closer to Belle. As days and nights passed, reservations, fear, and self-loathing faded with the island Mercy had left behind.
She smiled again, snuggling now under the sheets and blankets. She was supposed to be the companion. It was her job to make sure Belle was not alone, bored, or tired of being confined. But Belle had turned the tables and had taken it upon herself to entertain Mercy, thus giving her time to quietly come to terms with her recent past. Belle began almost immediately to invite her into a world she’d always dreamed about. She showed her maps and explained routes from country to country. She spoke about her home, saying that Virginia had once been an English settlement in the year 1607, at a place called Jamestown. Mercy couldn’t imagine how ships sailed all the way across this ocean almost 260 years ago. Mercy also found out that red-skinned people lived there. They were called Indians. Black slaves, called Negros, did exist after all, and they were very important to the white people who lived in Virginia.
Belle described Morocco’s and Tunisia’s great souks and the Atlas mountain range, the Portuguese coastline and the Strait of Gibraltar, and Spain’s eastern coast. Mercy hadn’t even heard of some of the countries, and she was in awe at the sheer size of the world.
She had difficulty imagining Belle’s upbringing, but Belle was generous with the facts and was not afraid to vent her own thoughts and feelings about her family. She had four older brothers and all were married. She loved them but disliked her eldest brother, whom she described as being a cruel and callous man, treating those he deemed beneath him like downtrodden mu
les.
Mercy wanted to ask her who these people beneath him were, but she decided that if Belle had wanted to tell her, Belle would have.
Belle’s parents were alive and well, as far as Belle knew. They adored her and she them, but she was sure that they would never fully forgive her for making a decision that was both selfish and incomprehensible in their eyes. “I thought my parents were going to have convulsions when I told them of my plans. They threatened to lock me up in chains and have my marriage annulled. It was unheard of. Everyone frowned upon my decision, even my brothers, who always knew I was not quite the Southern lady I should have been. They sure didn’t mind when I climbed trees with them and threw apples from the highest branches when we were children. Oh, no; that was all great fun, until I became a woman. Then it was, ‘Talk like a lady, don’t show your ankles, don’t walk too fast, and don’t run. Men don’t take kindly to women who talk too much and know too much.’ Why, you would have thought I’d turned into a completely different creature the moment I grew breasts!”
Mercy pictured Belle in her mind. She was of small build and had fair hair. Her skin had darkened with wind, rain, and sunny days at sea. She had a naturally friendly face, which was more interesting than beautiful, but Mercy thought she had beauty in spades. It was in her smile, her animated expressions, and her eyes, which lit up and shone like beacons when she spoke about Hendry.
