The Bride Ship. Deborah Hale
two coves. “D’ye reckon that’s the place?”
Jocelyn shaded her eyes and peered in the direction Hetty was pointing. Nestled among a pretty grove of slender beech and birch trees stood a curious-looking building. It appeared to be circular with a domed roof. A colonnade of pillars ringed the central structure, creating a shallow cloister. Sunshine glittered off a large golden ball atop the dome. While it looked an altogether charming little place, it was far too small and in every other way unsuited for…
“Don’t be a bigger fool than you can help, carrothead!” Vita Sykes gave a snort of scornful laughter. “That’s likely just the prince’s privy. Up the hill is a house that might hold us all in a pinch.”
“As long as I don’t have to share a bed with you,” Hetty shot back before Jocelyn could intervene. “Be afraid of catching some vermin, I would.”
“I’ll box your ears for that, see if I don’t!”
Fortunately the chief troublemakers were far enough apart that neither could land a blow. Jocelyn half wished that pair would lean too far over the deck railing and tumble into the basin. She could think of several girls who would gladly give them a shove.
“That will be quite enough from both of you.” She glared at Hetty, who hung her head, then at Vita, who stared back bold as brass. “Any further such behavior and you may find yourselves toting all our luggage up to the lodge. Is that understood?”
They muttered something that might have been “Yes, ma’am.”
In Vita’s case, Jocelyn wondered if it was a choice bit of profanity. Whatever had persuaded Mrs. Beamish to give that little vixen a berth on the bride ship, Jocelyn could not guess. To test her skills as a chaperone, perhaps? If that was Vita’s purpose, she excelled at it!
Having averted a full-blown catfight on deck, Jocelyn turned her attention to the larger building Vita had pointed out in the distance. The place did look as though it might suit their needs. A pleasantly proportioned country villa, it had a pillared veranda that ran the full width of the ground floor topped by an equally wide balcony. Above that, a single large dormer jutted out from the center of the roof. It had one vast window that no doubt provided a splendid view.
The girls would have to sleep several to a room at first and eat their meals in two shifts. But as some left to get married the crowding would ease. Jocelyn imagined how pretty the grounds would look once the trees and flowers began to bloom. Why, they would rival anything on her father’s estate back in Norfolk. She stifled a pang of longing for the bright spring daffodils that grew around Breckland in such profusion.
“Drop anchor!” bellowed the captain. “Prepare the boats!”
“Vita, Eleanor.” Jocelyn pointed to several girls. “Mary Parfitt, Sophia, Charlotte and Eliza Turner, go below and fetch as much of your luggage as you can carry. You will come with me on the first boat.”
She turned to Lily. “Send the rest after us in small groups. Keep Hetty with you until the last.”
Lily cast a wistful glance at the little domed building on shore, but bobbed an obliging nod. “Anything else, Mrs. Finch?”
“That will be quite enough for the moment.” Jocelyn patted her arm. “Thank you, my dear.”
If anything, Lily deserved to be one of the first to disembark, but Jocelyn did not trust any of the others to keep order after she left. And it was necessary for her to lead their party to the lodge. While it looked an agreeable-enough place from a distance, who knew what state they might find it in?
Governor Kerr did not seem the type of man who indulged in country idylls when there were documents to sign and reports to write. Heaven only knows how long it had been since anyone occupied the place. No matter, though. If Prince’s Lodge had to be cleaned from cellar to attic, it would give her charges a useful occupation during their early days in the colony.
The first party was lowered gingerly into a boat and rowed to shore. Then the oarsmen lifted each of the passengers out onto dry ground. Vita clung to the sailor who hoisted her ashore far longer than was proper.
Jocelyn grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away. “The others would like to disembark before nightfall.” She picked up a couple of bags and thrust them into Vita’s hands. “Now make yourself useful for a change.”
The girl’s full lower lip jutted out in a sulk as she looked around her. “Prince or no prince, it’s all a bit rustic for my taste. Too bad we couldn’t have stayed in town.”
“I shudder to think what mischief you might get up to in town.” Jocelyn hoisted one of her bags and set off across a wide, rutted road toward the gates of the estate. “Unless you start behaving with a little decorum, Miss Sykes, you will find yourself rusticating out here all summer.”
She could almost feel an invisible dagger piercing her back from Vita’s vicious glare. Pity any poor fool tempted into matrimony by Vita’s wanton ways!
They had barely gotten across the road when Jocelyn spotted a man striding down the steep, winding driveway to meet them. Had the governor put aside his everlasting papers for a few hours and ridden out from town to welcome them? She strove not to betray any sign of disappointment when she saw it was Sir Robert’s aide, Mr. Duckworth. Indeed, she told herself, she was not disappointed. After all, the young man was far more agreeable and obliging than his master.
“Welcome, ladies!” He pushed open the gate and hurried toward them. “I hope you will find the accommodations here to your satisfaction.”
“I assure you,” said Jocelyn, “provided the place is dry and the floors do not sway beneath our feet, we shall be quite contented here.”
He chuckled. “I believe I can safely promise you both those things, Mrs. Finch. But do not exert yourselves to carry so much.” He reached for one of Jocelyn’s bags. “The lane up to the lodge is quite steep. I will send a cart down to collect all your luggage as soon as it is unloaded from the ship.”
Did Mr. Duckworth enjoy being perpetually hurried and worried? Jocelyn wondered. Or had his service to a martinet like Sir Robert Kerr made him so?
“Do not fret.” She let him take one of her bags but clung to the other with no intention of surrendering it. “After our weeks at sea, a little exertion will do us good.”
“He’s welcome to carry mine if he wants to,” Vita muttered, just loud enough for Jocelyn to hear.
“I beg your pardon?” said Mr. Duckworth.
Silencing Vita with a stern frown, Jocelyn answered, “We will be most grateful for a cart to haul the trunks. It was kind of you to come all the way from town to meet us.”
The young man cast a shy but admiring glance at the girls who had accompanied Jocelyn. “It is a pleasure and an honor rather than a duty, ma’am. Allow me to show you around the place so you can get settled as soon as possible.”
A host of welcome smells greeted Jocelyn when Mr. Duckworth threw open the front door of Prince’s Lodge and stood back to let her enter. The faint reek of lye, camphor, brass and wood polish overpowered any hint of mustiness. Someone had given the place a thorough cleaning, and not long ago, either. A faint whiff of wood smoke told her at least some of the fires had been lit. While not strictly necessary on such a mild day, they did dispel any trace of dampness from the air.
While the rest of Jocelyn’s charges disembarked from the bride ship and made their way up to the lodge, Mr. Duckworth conducted her on a tour of the place from the locked wine cellar to the rooftop lookout with its spectacular view. As she peered into the bedrooms, Jocelyn found herself reckoning how many girls each would hold and who should share quarters with whom.
“Would it be possible,” she asked, “to fetch a few more beds from town and convert the little sewing room on the ground floor to sleeping quarters as a temporary measure?”
“More beds are already on their way, ma’am.” Mr. Duckworth