He frowned at her, a flush appearing above his collar. Godford expected his word to be obeyed instantly and without question. No exceptions. Many a staff member had found themselves put out for daring to disagree with the master.
"You are twenty-three years old, madam. I have hesitated in arranging a match for you in the hope that maturity might correct the stubborn streak you have so clearly inherited from your lowborn father." He paused to draw in a deep breath. "Your mother was much better than he deserved, but clearly she had the fault of poor judgment for wedding a mongrel. Another trait you seem to have inherited." His eyes flashed with reprimand. "You allow your emotions to lead you."
He shook his head. "Yet I have invested great effort in securing a man who is willing to take you as his wife. If you shame me by refusing, you shall take yourself out of my house this very moment. Make no mistake, I shall not suffer your attitude for a single hour. Nor shall I allow you to infect your sisters with your rebellious nature."
His threats punctured her heart. A mocking gleam entered her stepfather's eyes.
"I trust your attitude is becoming more agreeable? Or shall I have my butler show you to the door?"
It wasn't really a question. Her stepfather was like a judge pronouncing sentence. She actually considered the option of walking away from his controlling grip. While freedom beckoned, the harsh world beyond the front door was no place to go without deep consideration. No house
would hire a maid without a reference. That left the factories with their toxic working conditions.
She had seen the women who worked at the match-making factory. Within two years their teeth fell out from the harsh compounds they handled. The china factories promised lung ailments.
The best she might hope for was to work a sewing machine, but those positions were only for the fastest workers, when age took the speed from her fingers, she'd be cast out in favor of a younger woman.
"I am content."
"Obedience, madam!" Her stepfather slapped a hand against his thigh. "That is what you have always fallen short of achieving. I require discipline under my roof and obedience from my late wife's children. Why do you never listen on Sunday mornings when the parson is lecturing upon that topic?"
He stopped, his breathing agitated. It was a small thing but when it came to her stepfather, the little emotional outburst was glaring. Godford pressed his lips together, attempting to regain his complete composure. Drawing another deep breath, he shook his head.
"Enough. I have been kinder than your behavior warrants. Your intended groom is a man with good connections and position, an officer in the royal navy." Her stepfather turned and went back to his desk. It was a huge, ornately carved one with legs formed into lion claws. His study was richly decorated with gifts from the captains who sailed around the globe on the ships made by the St. John builders. He took a moment to toss the tails of his frock coat back so he did not sit upon them. Lorena was left standing on the bare wooden floorboards because she had learned the first time she set foot into the study to keep her toes well away from the intricate oriental carpet the desk rested on. That was for her stepfather's shoes alone. The master of the house did not share his luxuries.
"I suggest you recall that Commissioner Mordaunt shall send me reports on how pleased he is with you. He needs a wife from a good family who will not complain about the climate where he is posted but remember that being there ensures a good career for him." Geoffrey shot her a stern look across the polished marble-topped desk. "The entire family shall benefit from a solid union between you both. You shall set sail for Bermuda tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" She couldn't keep the question from slipping past her lips.
"You prefer to board the ship tonight?"
Her stepfather's brows were raised in challenge. "I thought you would like to say farewell to your sisters in person. However, it is not necessary." And clearly he would enjoy punishing her by denying it.
"Yes, I would like that, thank you." Her words might be meek but her thoughts were as sharp as broken glass. She meant those words like a curse, no matter what they sounded like.
Bermuda...
Australia would have been better. The tropical island was nothing more than a prison camp. The climate was reported to be like the breath of hell and tropical diseases flourished in the humid conditions. Horror threatened to choke her. A future in such a place was devoid of anything she might consider bright.
Lorena gathered her courage and forced her horror down where it could not control her. She
would not give Godford the satisfaction of seeing her distress. Turning around, she quit the study without a single tap echoing up from her heels. Another skill perfected in response to one of Geoffrey's notes. He had set out to train them as strictly as a military academy, and now she understood the reason why.
She stood today, a carefully groomed bitch, perfect for Godford to dangle in front of men cut from the same cloth as he was. Men who wanted good breeding in their wives and no demands
of luxury. She'd seen men such as that sitting in the side pews at church, making comments to one another about the ladies. Critiquing them with narrow stares.
Godford thought she daydreamed in church? Hardly. Every Sunday morning she soaked up the
vision of her neighbors. Other girls like her who looked so foreign. They wore jewellery and soft India cotton dresses in the warm summer months. Their eyes sparkled when they greeted their friends before the sermon began. To be sure, Lorena was always attentive while sitting
in the pew. She soaked up the carefree expressions, allowing the sight to take her back to when her father had presided over a house that was loving and warm.
Her sisters and she kept a fragment of that flame burning among them. Above stairs and behind a door braced with a sturdy chair, they talked about silly things while reading books and fashion circulars secretly given to them by the younger maids. Godford thought himself so clever making them work in the kitchens, but they took small sweets from the kind cook to savour while they indulged in the family harmony that their early years had been full of. It might be smaller, but she still had a family.
And tonight was her last with them. Sweet Bethany and sharp-witted Amelia.
Tears clouded Lorena's vision, pain slashing deep. It cut through the layers of toughened shell around her emotions. She froze at the base of the stairs, one hand gently stroking the banister.
How many times had she touched it? So many memories flooded her; there was no way to hold
them all back. Soft, silent tears glided down her cheeks. Lorena gripped the banister in an effort to hold on to the home she loved so dearly. It had been her father's greatest gift to their mother, something he'd provided for them out of love. A home better than the one he'd grown up in.
Godford sneered on her common-born father, but Lorena was proud of her sire. Her sisters were here too, the two most important things in the entire world to her. No one else touched her heart.
The awful truth was she had no true friends. With a soft snarl, she wiped the tears from her face.
Crying was useless. Even worse, it was something Geoffrey might use against her. The man was a genius when it came to extortion. He was the modern businessman. He hired farmers who
moved to the city looking for a more stable income. What they found was dark and
crowded working conditions. They lived in thin-walled dormitories, whole families in a single room. Children began earning wages at five years old, but it was barely enough to put food in their bellies.
While Geoffrey Godford wore a silk cravat with ivory cufflinks every day. He had taken her
father's shipbuilding assets and grown an empire by squeezing every drop of revenue out of
everyone around him. He was ruthless in his pursuit of what he craved.
And now that fate was hers to share. She didn't doubt her marriage would bring something to Godford that he coveted. Still it was a poor choice to embark on such a life-changing voyage thinking the worst of her future groom. She must take her own advice and think of something positive.
It was not going to prove a simple task but she was strong and full of spirit after all. She felt a sense of satisfaction move through her because she enjoyed turning Godford's words into a
compliment.
Lorena gained the second floor and laughed at herself. It cleared the tightness from her throat, easing the burning salt tears from her eyes. The second floor was her haven, a place her
stepfather almost never appeared. He'd set about building a second wing onto the house and
moved into it before his second wedding anniversary. He claimed to not be able to stomach the sound of children.
She and her sisters had rejoiced. Even now, she smiled as she considered how much her
stepfather might despise their joy. He was such a pompous man. Lorena truly believed the man fancied himself superior to them all.
There was a scamper of boots on the hallway that ended when her brother noticed her. Marcus Geoffrey Godford was only six years old. His blue eyes searched her face for a clue to her
opinion of his youthful pace. Her brother
was running away from his nurse once again. It would seem her mother had passed on the same spirit to her sons as well.
Closing the distance, she reached down and picked up her brother.
"Do you have a tart? Or a cake to share, Lorena?" he asked hopefully.
Slipping into her room, Lorena closed the door with nothing more than a whisper.
"Let me think for a moment..."
Marcus punched her in the shoulder, his small face distorted in a frown worthy of any dock prize fighter. "Don't tease. You're an awful sister to toy with me so."
"Did Abby punish you by denying you sweets today?"
Her brother wiggled and she set him down. He pushed his hands into his pockets while his lower lip protruded. "Ah, I didn't mean to make her mad. Honest as can be."
"In that case, I believe I have some cakes."
His face brightened, sending new tears flooding into her eyes. Lifting a carefully placed
dictionary, she pulled the small treats she'd taken from the cook before going to the linen cabinet to mend the sheets and pillowcases. Marcus reached for them eagerly, the tip of his tongue
appearing on his lower lip.
"You're the best sister, Lorena!"
He held his treats close while chewing on one. When it was gone, he smiled at her. "I'd better get back now. Or she'll feed me nothing but boiled beets for supper." He popped the last cake into his mouth on his way toward the door. Tears eased from her eyes as she watched him go. With a sigh she wiped them away.
A heavy step on the stairs vibrated up to the second floor. A second set joined it, climbing up.
Looking out the bedroom door, she watched as one of the stablemen came into view. His
attention was on something he held that was still on the step below him. His expression was tight, and he grunted while lifting whatever it was up to the top of the stairs.
A trunk.
She stared at the black leather case, her fury burning bright once more. She would not shatter.
Her spirit was hers alone and no matter what Godford placed in front of her, she refused to crumple.
Ever.
"He can't mean it." Bethany cast a fuming glare at the trunk.
"When has Godford ever jested?" Lorena placed another carefully folded chemise into the trunk.
Her life was being neatly packed into the thing, one garment at a time.
"You have me there, Lorena, and you are ever a better sport about that man than I can manage."
"Will you have a baby, Lorena?" At sixteen Amelia sounded older than her years.
Lorena's hands hesitated. Her thoughts wandered away from the task of packing toward the all-too-real aspect of having a husband. She had never really given the matter much thought and without a social life there had been no young men to fuel her curiosity about the matter. She wasn't uneducated though. Science was a favorite subject. Books were their main source of
entertainment, and she read everything that came into the house, even sneaking them out of
Godford's study.
"I want to go with you," Amelia announced.
"Hush now, both of you." Her sisters looked shocked at her tone, but Lorena lifted her chin and stared at them. "Unfortunately I fear your times will be upon you soon enough. Best not to tempt Godford to find you husbands today."
"You could refuse to go," Bethany suggested, her eyes brightening with hope.
"He threatened to turn me out without a shilling if I did." Lorena shot her a stern look.
"I'm not sure I would have even been allowed to take my cape."
Bethany lost her color. Amelia sputtered in outrage.
"That.. .that diseased toad! I pray he's impotent."
"If your husband's penis is limp, you will not have a baby." Bethany spoke smooth and sweetly as though she was reciting a bible verse. Lorena stared at her until she couldn't hold back her amusement.
Bethany shrugged. "But the stable lads call it a cock, not a penis as the medical texts do."
Lorena resumed her packing. "Lord, Bethany, the things you say."
"Oh bother." Bethany rolled her eyes. "What is the point of all these books if I'm expected to keep my mouth shut every time someone says something intelligent?"
They never pinched the candle out. It burned lower and lower through the dark hours of the
morning until it sputtered out in a pool of melted wax. Dawn was teasing the horizon with pink and yellow wisps. Lorena lay with her sisters, chattering in hushed voices. The rising sun
sobered her but she had to admit to a bit of excitement too. She loved the sea. Her father had often taken her to the shipyard. Maybe it was the fact that Godford ran such a cold house, but she couldn't think about today without a little joy for knowing she was going to once again stand on a ship.
Well, her stepfather hadn't managed to kill all the happiness in the house. Maybe that was the lesson she needed to recall during her journey. She could choose to be happy and avoid dwelling on the facts she did not care for.