“There was no need to clear my room, I won’t be staying in the Rose Room,” Linnet said, taking the matching cape from the top of the pile of clothes that Lottie held in her arms she laid the garment on the bed.
A deep voice called cheerily from the direction of the doorway, “What, not dressed yet? Your father is already outside in the coach awaiting us. Incidentally, good morning, wife!”
Linnet stood in her corset and shift she glanced sourly at her new husband. He leaned against the doorway with an odious grin on his face, dressed for travelling in high hessian boots of dark brown, and tight fawn britches. A brown greatcoat was slung over his arm. Linnet, with an outwardly cool demeanour, replied, “Good morning to you, husband. If you would be so kind as to leave me in peace, I shall be ready to join my father directly.”
John raised an eyebrow at her formality. “Very well, I will await you outside. I shall go and keep your father company.”
Hurriedly, Lottie arranged Linnet’s hair and dressed her. Linnet thanked her, kissed her briefly and, as she ran out of the room, called over her shoulder, “I shall want to go riding later, Lottie, so leave my blue riding habit out for me, would you?”
Lottie’s mouth dropped open. She ran after her mistress, calling, “Miss, miss! What’s that, whatever d’ you mean, miss? You cannot go riding, miss, you’ll be at sea.” The last part was whispered. What could her mistress have meant? Surely she couldn’t be going out on her horse; she was off to America. After all, Lottie should know, as she had supervised the packing of Linnet’s belongings into trunks sent on to the port. No doubt by now they were stowed aboard in their cabin. She tripped over Linnet’s discarded nightgown, the one she had spent so many nights sitting up and sewing by candlelight. Lottie picked it up and held it to her face. She wept, holding the soft gown against her cheek.
“Oh my dear, I shall miss you so, and no proper goodbye for Lottie.” The poor maid sat down abruptly and sobbed.
Chapter 6
Climbing the gangway onto The Tempest, Linnet clutched the rope support and looked at the huge drop downward into the harbour while the murky waters churned about between the wall and the ship’s side. The ship swayed backwards and forwards, nearing the wall but never quite touching the stonework. It creaked and groaned, as if moaning to itself. Linnet shuddered. It was as if the ship were a live creature.
She had never been to the port before; her father rightly supposed that it was not the place to take a young girl of gentle upbringing. The language and behaviour of the sailors was coarse and rough. Once on board the ship, Linnet looked about her with fascinated interest. There were men everywhere, scurrying around like ants, each seemed to know exactly what he was about. Men shimmied up and down masts, others carried barrels aboard, while others wound thick ropes, the width of a man’s wrist. All the while, they called out, swore, and some even sang.
There was a sense of anticipatory excitement all around. Overhead the gulls wheeled, dipping and diving, their screaming calls adding to the noise and confusion. The captain came towards them. He waved jauntily, his progress somewhat hampered by men stopping to speak to him every few feet or so. Eventually, he reached them. He was a short man, with a large girth, and he looked to be in his fortieth year. His face was clean-shaven, although he sported huge side whiskers which looked startling, but not so much for their size as for their colour, a bright gingery red, as was the thick wiry hair on top of his head.
“My dear sirs, miss, excuse me, I mean Mistress Foster! Captain Pettigrew at your service, ma’am, welcome aboard The Tempest! The weather is favouring us, yes indeed! Now, please, I insist that you join me below. I have some fine brandy and a Madeira ready in anticipation of your arrival. Please, to follow me!”
He waved his arm expansively in the direction of the bridge and walked away from them in that direction, assuming they were obediently behind him. They did their best to keep up but kept having to stop as the seamen ran across their path, hampering their progress. They also had to avoid obstacles such as open hatchways, piles of rope, barrels of tar and supplies not yet stowed away.
The captain, obviously at home on his ship, leapt around these potential death traps with the grace and ease of a nimble but portly cat. Eventually, they arrived safely by his side, and the captain gestured to a small dark stairway leading down. “Ladies first!” he shouted genially.
Linnet took a firm hold of the rail and stepped down. She waited at the bottom of the stairs for the captain, whom she now recalled seeing at her wedding. He led them to a cabin, flinging the door open into a pleasant, if smallish, room. She glanced around curiously. In one corner stood a large table or desk covered with charts, and on the side of this was a box with many rolled up maps, tightly packed together. Various strange brass instruments were dotted about on the table, along with quills and an ink stand. At the other end of the cabin, a table was laid with a white cloth. Set out on this were glasses and bottles, along with plates of small pasties and sweetmeats.
Linnet suddenly felt extremely hungry. The captain poured them drinks and handed out round pewter plates. Linnet barely listened to the conversation, so intent was she on eating pasties and sipping her Madeira wine. She realised that the men had all turned to look at her and that the captain had spoken to her. “I am so sorry, Captain Pettigrew, could you repeat that please?”
“Of course, my dear, I asked if you had been to sea before now.”
“Well, no, actually. Why?” Linnet asked curiously.
“Just wondered how your sea legs would be, that’s all, m’dear. We’ll soon find out!” He winked and chuckled.
She was surprised, but not concerned. Naturally, he assumed she was returning with John to the Colonies, she supposed. She was about to put him right on the matter when he suggested that he guide them to the owner’s cabin. They all followed the captain into the passage as he led them down the steps. The passage was lit by oil lamps that hung from the ceiling, they swung gently to and fro with the ship’s gentle movement.
They turned right and came to a door where the captain halted. He withdrew a large key from his coat pocket to unlock it. “Here we are, then. Now, anything you need, just let my first officer know, he’ll see to it. I will leave you to settle in. Dinner is early aboard ship; we eat at eight bells.”
He turned to Linnet’s father. “Sir Edward, your servant, sir! We set sail in an hour, don’t get caught on board!” With another of his irrepressible chuckles, the captain bowed to Sir Edward then left the three of them alone. John held open the cabin door and they all entered. Sir Edward coughed. “I think I shall leave you to unpack and get your things stowed away. I’ll say my goodbyes now.” Alarmed, Linnet spun around to face her father. Had she understood his meaning?
Her father took her in his arms in a great bear hug, holding her tightly against him. “My dear, I wish you all the happiness in the world. God willing, we shall see each other again one day.”
Linnet gasped. “B-but I am not going, Papa. I am coming home with you!”
Sir Edward Wainwright gripped her shoulders firmly and looked into her face sternly. “No, child, your place is by your husband’s side and that is where you will be. Enough protestation, you are John’s wife, Linnet!” he chided. His heart ached for them both as she started to protest but he remained adamant. “You are married. There is no more to be said, so kiss your father and let me remember you with pride. Stand bravely beside your husband and enjoy the adventure of a new life together.”
John stepped forward and placed his arm around his wife’s waist, giving her a squeeze. “Be brave for your father’s sake, dearest. Do as he bids; you wouldn’t want his last memory of you to be a sad one.”
“My dear, I wish you all the happiness in the world. As I said, God willing, we shall see one another again.”
She trembled. “No, Papa! No! I cannot leave you! How can I possibly leave? I may never see you again!” She flung herself into his arms. Tormented, she sobbed with disbelief, he
r hands clutching his coat front.
Sir Edward lifted a hand to stroke her hair. “My precious child, you know that you could return with me and I might die tomorrow. I am an old man now, puss. If I should die, then what would become of you? John is a good man, he will look after you and, God willing, you will give me many grandchildren, each of whom will come back to England in order to visit their old grandpapa! Life goes on my child, life goes on.”
He placed his hands over hers and lifted them from his coat. He turned to John, holding her clasped hands out towards him. “Take my girl, John. Protect her and cherish her.”
John took the weeping Linnet by her hands and drew her to him, folding her in his arms, “You know I will, sir, and thank you.”
Sir Edward Wainwright reached forward and placed a hand on John’s shoulder, giving it a hearty squeeze. “Good man,” he said, his voice gruff. With one last lingering look at his weeping daughter, he turned and left the cabin.
Linnet screamed. She tore herself from John’s arms to hurl herself after her father but John caught her about the waist, restraining her. He held her tight against him before leading her over to the bed where he sat and cradled his wife on his lap. John clasped her against his shoulder, his arm about her protectively, and so they stayed while Linnet wept. Eventually, when she was a little calmer, John laid her, curled up, on the box bed. He pulled the eiderdown over her and stroked her hair tenderly back from her forehead.
“Sleep now, sweetheart. I’ll wake you later for dinner. Just rest; all will be well, you’ll see.” He left her to sleep and began to sort out the various trunks piled high in the corner of the cabin.
When she awoke some two hours later, she found herself alone. At first, she simply lay upon the bed feeling desperate and very lonely. As she pondered, a white hot blaze of fury shot through her. This was all that man Foster’s fault; he had tricked her into marrying him and under false pretences. Linnet sat up and looked around, noticing various details that in her distress earlier she had missed. The bed she was lying upon was a box bed, a square wooden frame, in-filled with a horse-hair filled mattress, topped off with a downy quilt. A rail ran around the bed, secured above to the wooden ceiling. Dark red curtains hung from them on either side of the bed, enabling it to be surrounded, enclosed from the rest of the room. It was secured to the floor in order to stop it moving in high seas. To the right of the bed there was a window, made up of tiny diamond-shaped pieces of glass, and this was framed by some rather ragged dark red curtains. Under the window sat a pair of large ornate oak chests.
Linnet noticed that her set of silver hair brushes and combs had been laid out atop one of them. Sitting up in the bed, she looked over to the other end of the cabin where a round table stood, fixed to the floor by its central pedestal. Set on either side were two brown, leather-covered chairs. In the far corner, beyond the table, was a screen. She assumed that behind this, the pitcher and ewer could be found. Of their larger travelling trunks there was no sign.
Linnet leaned back on the bed. Pulling the counterpane up under her chin, she began to think about her home. Why had Lottie not informed her that she was to travel with John to the Colonies? Linnet recalled her final conversation with her maid as she was leaving that morning. It began to dawn on her that Lottie had assumed that she had known about the travelling arrangements. Linnet closed her eyes in pain. She hadn’t even said goodbye to dear Lottie—or any of the other household staff, for that matter. She had known all of them since she was a small child. Huh, and Pango! Who would exercise him now? Oh, this was terrible!
Tears began to slip down her cheeks as she remembered all she had left behind. If only she had been able to marry Charles, she could have remained near her home and her father, maintaining her way of life, one that she loved. Instead, here she was, cast adrift out on the wide Atlantic Ocean, with a man she called husband but whom she barely knew and was certain she disliked. All this trauma and unhappiness was down to him and his interference. He had deliberately scuppered her carefully laid plans. Gradually, the resentment she already felt towards John intensified until it burned hotly within her.
John unwittingly chose that moment to quietly enter the room bearing a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, alongside a plate of freshly baked scones.
“Oh, good, you are awake,” he said cheerily. “The captain has an excellent cook. I’ve brought you some of his delicious soft biscuits to try. He called them scones; I think that is what he said.”
John set the tray down on the table and went over to the bed where he sat upon the edge and took Linnet’s hand. He was moved to see the tear stains tracked upon her cheeks. “Poor darling girl, please don’t fret. I swear to you that if we can, we will visit your father, possibly even next year—provided you are not in a delicate condition, of course.”
John gave a slow smile and pinched Linnet’s cheek affectionately.
He couldn’t be certain of what happened next. Suddenly he appeared to be covered in bed clothes and lying in a heap upon the floor. As he struggled to sit up, pushing his head free of the constricting covers, he was doused in cold water, the shock of which left him gasping.
“Delicate condition?” she screeched from where she stood, clutching the empty water pitcher. “Let me tell you, sir! I have no intention of sharing a bed with you ever again, let alone becoming in a ‘delicate condition,’ as you put it! When we reach the Colonies, I shall arrange my passage straight back home to England, to Lavenstock Hall, which is where I belong, and not with some colonial half-wit who has decided to drag me halfway across the world on a whim!”
Linnet, exceedingly angry as she was, nevertheless took a stumbling step backwards as he presented dark, open fury on his face. His eyes narrowed to steely slits as she ranted. Any sympathy he had felt for her earlier was obviously gone, and it appeared to have been replaced by rage.
Slowly he hauled himself upright and, kicking the bedclothes aside, he shook his head. He looked like a wet wolf shaking himself dry. John passed a hand over his head and slicked his wet hair back. What sort of a harridan had he married? Well, he intended to start as he meant to go on.
He took a deep breath, recalling that she had just left her homeland—possibly forever. Therefore, he would not allow her to goad him into losing his temper. He intended to make things absolutely crystal clear to her. Surely, once she understood, she would settle down and remain calm. He walked over to the table where he picked up a cup and saucer, enquiring in an icily polite tone, “Shall we take tea now, my dear?” When he got no reply, he went on, “Sit down, my dear, for I have a few things that I wish to say to you.”
Linnet flounced into a chair, her expression sulky. She was somewhat relieved that John was behaving in so civilised manner after her attack, but she was also somewhat disappointed in his lack of reaction.
She would have quite liked to have had the opportunity to vent more of her anger. She was still simmering, and wanted to throw something hard at his vile head. John, fully aware of her volatile nature, nevertheless felt some sympathy for her state of mind. He decided that he would naturally subdue her, teaching her to respect her husband. He was determined to soothe Linnet and make her understand that their marriage was a fact that she could no longer change.
He poured them both a cup of tea and sat across the table from her. “I trust that you are now feeling calm enough to talk?” When she failed to respond, he continued regardless.
“As you know, Linnet, your father wished for this marriage to take place, but it did so because I wanted you as my wife. I want our union to work for both our sakes. As your husband, these are the things that I expect from you: first and foremost, respect, as I shall respect you. Your loyalty, as you have mine. Your obedience—in fact, I expect you to fulfil your wedding vows to me absolutely. I hope that, in time, you will learn to love me. I am a fair and patient man, but I am fully prepared to teach you to love, respect and honour me. This can be done most pleasantly, or unpleasantly. At the e
nd of the day, the choice is yours. As for the marriage bed, well, you do still have a lot to learn, but it will be my pleasant task to teach you the joys of that too. You are my wife, Linnet, as such, you will share my bed and you will respect me as your husband. Otherwise, there shall be consequences. In return, you have my love and protection in all things.”
John picked up his teacup and drank from it, watching her reaction to his pretty speech over the rim. Linnet’s emotions swung from a resentful anger to incredulous embarrassment. Her face blanched and then flushed.
She took a deep breath then replied in a shaky voice, “Firstly, sir, you have to earn my respect. Secondly, I make my own decisions. Thirdly, I loathe you, Mr. Foster, and I promise you that I will not be falling in love with you now or in the future! As a gentleman, you will be bound to leave me in peace at night and take your base pleasure elsewhere, for I tell you that I will not endure it, sir!” Linnet lifted her chin haughtily, her green eyes flashing.
A muscle twitched once in John’s cheek. “I warn you, Linnet: do not push me, for you would not enjoy the outcome.”
“Do you threaten me, sir?” She stood up and faced him as he watched her performance, for a performance it was. He admired his new wife, he was inwardly proud of her strength of character but she needed to learn quickly that he was her destiny, and it would be dangerous for her in the Colonies to try and go her own way. She must learn to trust his judgement, to do as he instructed her. This voyage would be a good opportunity for him to school her in her wifely duties, and he found himself looking forward to the prospect. He gazed at Linnet’s heaving bosom and flushed cheeks. His new wife had no idea of the effect she had on a man, and that was going to be part of the danger that lay ahead for someone as lovely as she, in a country as untamed and wild as The Americas.
Her Match, Her Mate, Her Master Page 7
