The Orphan's Dream (26 page)

‘But I don't want to marry him.'

She slapped his hand. ‘You know very well what I mean.' She turned to Mirabel, her eyes glowing and dimples dancing. ‘I'll leave Ethan to deal with Pa, but I want you to come with me when I tell Mama. It might be the very thing that will bring her back to us.'

Betsy D'Angelo's room was lit with the soft glow of candlelight, although it was not quite dark outside. Kezia hovered in the background, ever watchful. Mirabel stood back as Jerusha went to kneel at her mother's bedside. ‘How are you today, Mama? I hope you're feeling stronger because I have some news that I know will make you smile.' Jerusha clutched her mother's thin hand as it lay on the coverlet like a broken butterfly. ‘I'm to be married, Mama. Ethan has proposed at last and I said yes.'

Mirabel took a step forward as Betsy's eyelids flickered and she turned her head almost imperceptibly, and for a brief moment she thought the sick woman's lips moved, but the mask-like expression returned so quickly that it seemed she had imagined any change. Jerusha stroked her mother's hand, gazing intently into the glassy eyes. ‘I know you can hear me, Mama. Squeeze my fingers if you can.' She stiffened, holding her breath and exhaling with a sigh. ‘She did, Belle. It was the slightest pressure, but I felt it.' She laid Betsy's hand down on the counterpane, rising to her feet with a triumphant smile. ‘She knows and she's happy for me. I can feel it.'

Mirabel could not look away. She was certain that Betsy's eyes were staring directly at her, although she could not imagine why. Then, quite suddenly, Betsy's lips moved. ‘Be happy.' The words were faint, just a breath of a whisper, but Mirabel heard them clearly.

‘What did she say?' Jerusha leaned over the bed, peering into her mother's face. ‘You spoke, Mama. What did you say?'

Kezia moved swiftly. ‘She's coming back to us, Miss Jerusha. Leave her to do it in her own good time. Don't tire her.'

Tears ran freely down Jerusha's cheeks. ‘But she spoke to me. I couldn't hear what she said.'

‘Never you mind,' Kezia said firmly. ‘She will speak again when it suits her. Now let her rest.'

Mirabel moved to Jerusha's side, slipping her arm around her shoulders. ‘She said “be happy”. She meant it for you.' Even as she uttered the words Mirabel knew that they were untrue. Betsy D'Angelo had been looking directly at her. For some unknown reason Jerusha's mother had spoken her first words for years to someone who was almost a complete stranger.

‘She approves,' Jerusha sobbed. ‘I knew she would. She always liked Ethan and the news brought her back from that awful place where no one could reach her. It's a miracle, Belle. I must go and find Pa and tell him.'

Mirabel glanced over Jerusha's shoulder and her eyes met Kezia's. She understands, Mirabel thought with a shiver. The handsome woman had an understanding far deeper than she would have thought possible. Kezia knew that the two words uttered on a sigh had not been meant for her mistress's daughter. It was inexplicable and Mirabel did not try to understand, but deep down she felt that a burden had been lifted from her, and it was with a lighter step that she accompanied Jerusha downstairs to pass on the news, and the hope it raised of a partial or even a full recovery from the accident that had laid Betsy D'Angelo so low.

‘I don't know how you did it,' Jerusha said next morning as Mirabel and Hubert were about to leave. ‘But somehow I think your being here made everything change for the better.'

Mirabel smiled, shaking her head. ‘It's kind of you to say so, but it's just not true.'

‘Oh, but it is, honey. Ethan and I might have gone on for years in the same old way, and then you were there and he proposed. I'm sure it was that news which brought Mama out of the dark place, and this morning, would you believe, she whispered my name.' She hugged Mirabel, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘You all must come to the wedding. It wouldn't be the same without you.' She clung to Mirabel's arm as they descended the veranda steps, making their way to where Ethan and Hubert were waiting for them. Gertie was already seated beside Caleb on the driver's seat of the D'Angelos' carriage, which was being used to transport the bulk of the Kettles' luggage to the railway station.

‘You'd better leave now, Caleb,' Vincent said with a wave of his hand. ‘Come straight back, you hear? No loitering in town.'

‘Yes, Cap'n.' Caleb grinned and saluted, flicked the reins and encouraged the matched pair of bays to walk on.

‘You must take good care of my friends on the journey to Newport News, Ethan,' Jerusha said sternly. ‘I've told Belle that they must return for our wedding.' She released Mirabel to clutch Hubert's hand. ‘You will bring her, won't you? I'll be devastated if you don't come.'

He smiled, squeezing her fingers. ‘I'll do my very best.'

‘Not good enough, sir,' Jerusha said, pouting prettily. ‘I want a solemn promise.'

‘Then you have my word.' Hubert helped Mirabel into the Munroe carriage and climbed in after her.

‘Make sure they get berths on a ship with a reliable captain and crew,' Jerusha said tearfully. ‘Hubert suffers dreadfully from seasickness.'

Ethan kissed her briefly on the lips, keeping a wary eye on Vincent, who was standing aside having already said his goodbyes. ‘Don't fret, honey. I'll take good care of them, and I'll be home tomorrow to plan our engagement ball. Mother has already made out the guest list, and my sisters spent last evening discussing what they would wear.' He leapt into the carriage and took his seat. ‘This is the beginning of your great adventure, Mirabel.'

The great adventure did not seem quite so exciting by the time they arrived in Newport News and were greeted by an intense thunderstorm. The darkening sky was illuminated by jagged forks of lightning, and ear-splitting claps of thunder reverberated off the land like cannon fire. Gertie was clearly disturbed by the storm, although she made an obvious effort to stop herself screaming every time the thunder roared like an angry bull. Mirabel was sympathetic at first, but even she began to lose patience when Gertie continued to utter muffled shrieks, covering her face with her hands at the slightest sound.

Hubert's lips were set in a thin line but he said little during the carriage ride from the station to the hotel. Ethan booked them in, explaining that this was the best that the town could offer. It had been built only recently to cope with travellers on the newly completed railway line, which linked what had been little more than a fishing village to Richmond. ‘You might have difficulty in finding a vessel to take you south,' he said as he was about to leave for his business meeting. ‘But I have a good friend who owns a pungy and might just be able to be of assistance.'

‘What is a pungy?' Mirabel asked eagerly. Everything here was new and different. There was what she imagined to be a pioneering atmosphere in the small town, and the smell of the sea was in the air. Her stomach was filled with what felt like a million fluttering butterflies, and she could not wait for the adventure to begin again in earnest.

‘It's a schooner used for trading along the coast,' Ethan said in answer to her question. ‘I have to go now, but I'll be staying here tonight, so I might have some good news for you.' He tipped his top hat and left them standing in the lobby. A flash of lightning was followed by a rumble of thunder that made the glass shades on the oil lamps clatter like chattering teeth. Gertie clutched Mirabel's arm. ‘I'm scared. Is it going to be like this all the time?'

‘No, of course not, silly. It's just a storm.' Mirabel glanced anxiously at Hubert, noting his pallor and the dark circles beneath his eyes. She turned to the desk clerk. ‘Might we have our room keys?'

He emerged from behind the desk. ‘I'll show you to your rooms, folks,' he said cheerfully. ‘I'll send the boy up with the rest of your luggage when he gets back from running an errand.' He stared meaningfully at the cabin trunks and portmanteaux. ‘I guess you all must be going a distance.' Without waiting for an answer he plodded across the bare boards to the wooden staircase.

‘Are you sure you're all right, Hubert?' Mirabel laid her hand on his arm. ‘You look a bit pale.'

He smiled valiantly. ‘A short rest and I'll be absolutely fine. We're on our way again and that's all that matters.'

Mirabel was not convinced; she would have liked to send for the doctor, assuming that there was one nearby, but Gertie was hurrying after the clerk and Mirabel had little choice but to follow them. The clerk stopped on the first floor landing and opened the door to the nearest room, standing aside to usher her in. ‘This is one of our best rooms, miss. There's a bed in the dressing room for your maid, and your father is next door. You'll find the bathroom at the end of the corridor. We have hot and cold running water,' he added proudly.

‘Thank you.' Mirabel did not bother to correct him as to the relationship between herself and Hubert. It was easier to allow people to assume that they were father and daughter, although the clerk would get a shock if he bothered to read their entry in the hotel register.

She closed the door and placed her small valise on the bed, taking in her surroundings with a sweeping glance. They were basic compared to the luxury of the
Servia
and the D'Angelos' beautiful home, but the room was clean and the bed sheets were starched to a glazed crispness that would have gladdened Mrs Flitton's heart. She went to the window and looked out across the small town to Hampton Roads. The worst of the storm seemed to be over, and with any luck Ethan would find them a ship to take them on the rest of the long journey to the Fakahatchee swamp.

Gertie came out of the dressing room, shaking her head. ‘You can't swing a cat in there. It's a cupboard, or a closet as they call it over here. I learned that from Zenobia.' She glanced out of the window and shuddered. ‘The sky still looks a bit black. I hope it ain't going to thunder all night because I shan't sleep a wink, and the mattress in there is lumpy.'

‘Don't grumble,' Mirabel said wearily. ‘I think this will seem like luxury when we travel on.'

Gertie sniffed. ‘I'll unpack your night things, Mabel. I don't suppose they change for dinner in this establishment.'

Dinner that evening was simple but delicious. Hubert toyed with his lump crab soup but Mirabel ate her broiled lobster with relish. Gertie sat apart from them at the far end of the dining room, sharing her table with a plump young woman who appeared to be travelling on her own. Hubert said little during the meal and Mirabel was relieved when it came to an end, and they went to sit in the public lounge, awaiting Ethan's return. Gertie remained in the dining room, having struck up an unlikely friendship with the plump woman, and seemed likely to remain there for some time. Mirabel sat in a chair by the fire and ordered coffee, having to shout to make herself heard above the sound of male voices interspersed with bursts of laughter. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, and she was the only woman present. Hubert sat opposite her and picked up a newspaper, and was soon engrossed in its contents. The waiter brought a tray of coffee and hurried off, summoned by one of the gentlemen demanding more drinks. She filled a cup and sat sipping the coffee for what seemed like an eternity.

Ethan arrived shortly before eight o'clock, shrugging off his coat and handing it to the waiter. Mirabel stood up to attract his attention, and he came towards them, smiling broadly. ‘I think I've found you a ship. My friend the captain was otherwise engaged this evening, but the mate has accompanied me and you can sort out the details with him.' He turned to the man who had followed him into the lounge. ‘Come and meet these good folks.'

Mirabel stared at the tall figure wearing sailors' slops, hardly able to believe her eyes.

‘BODGER!' HIS NAME
escaped her lips on a gasp of surprise. ‘What are you doing here?'

He moved towards her, grinning broadly. ‘Well, missis, I might ask you the same.' He tipped his cap, slanting a wary glance in Hubert's direction. ‘Begging your pardon for being so forward, guv.'

Hubert peered at him over the top of his newspaper. ‘Bodger Tinker?'

‘Aye, sir. That's me all right.' Bodger pulled off his cap and tucked it under his arm. ‘This here gent says you're looking for a passage south.'

Ethan looked from one to the other, eyebrows raised. ‘You know each other? But then I guess England's a small country.'

Mirabel laughed outright. ‘Compared to America it's very small, but this is pure coincidence. Bodger is Gertie's brother.'

‘That is a coincidence indeed.' Ethan glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf. ‘If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to sort out the details while I have my dinner.'

‘Of course,' Mirabel said quickly. ‘And thank you for going to so much trouble on our behalf.'

He inclined his head, smiling. ‘No trouble, I assure you.'

Bodger watched him walk away, standing awkwardly like a child caught out in a naughty deed.

‘So how do you come to be in Newport News?' Mirabel asked, breaking the ensuing silence.

‘I seem to have a habit of missing my ship,' Bodger confessed, hanging his head.

Hubert put his paper down. ‘And now you're mate. That's a big leap, isn't it?'

‘I know what you're thinking, guv.' Bodger's face flushed beneath his weathered tan. ‘But I can do the job all right. I been at sea man and boy and there ain't much I don't know about ship handling.'

‘Well good luck to you, that's all I can say.' Mirabel sent a warning look to her husband. How Bodger managed to convince an American sea captain that he was capable of acting as mate was no one's business but his own, and there were more important things to discuss. ‘Where is your ship bound, Bodger?'