Rose's Pledge (3 page)

Chapter 2

I
t took the huge vessel
Seaford Lady
six interminable weeks and four days to carve a passage through the vast, dark waters of the cold Atlantic Ocean. Rose doubted she would ever forget them. But once she’d recovered from the seasickness that laid her low for the first week, she found the voyage somewhat more enjoyable as she watched the crew dealing efficiently with monstrous sails, changing winds, and strong sea currents. Yesterday’s first glimpse of land had thrilled her, and on this last night aboard ship, she wished she had more time to prepare herself for what lay ahead …four years of servitude as an indentured servant.

At least the crossing had been without mishap. Surely that was a good sign. She had to trust that this voyage to the American colonies was God’s will, not merely her own rash choice. She could hardly bear to look back on the pain and sorrow in her father’s eyes when he bade her a last farewell. Even now she blinked away stinging tears and suppressed the lingering doubts that had plagued her during the entire trip.

The fragile promise of dawn began to show through the porthole of the overcrowded ship’s cabin. In the faint light, Rose slipped from the bottom bunk and onto the narrow wooden floor between two sets of cots stacked three high. The thought of a few moments of solitude on deck, breathing air she did not have to share with five other travelers, left her almost giddy. She plucked her cloak from the foot of her narrow bed and snugged it around her, then pulled on her slippers and tiptoed out the door, careful to close it without waking her cabinmates.

She padded along the lantern-lit passageway then out onto the wide deck of the three-masted merchant ship. A chilly breeze billowed the huge sails, which swelled and flapped, their gentle motion causing little stress to the scores of ropes and spars. The vessel plowed slowly north into the deepest reaches of Chesapeake Bay, heading toward the tobacco port of Baltimore.

When the
Seaford Lady
first entered the bay yesterday, one of the seamen had informed Rose that the inlet cut between the mainland and a peninsula for a good two hundred miles. He certainly had not lied, because after these many hours, the ship had yet to reach its destination.

She stepped to the starboard railing to view the coming dawn. A pale pink glow illuminated the treetops along the ragged eastern shoreline. So close she could almost smell the scent of pine. The cool air that brushed past her cheeks felt surprisingly pleasant for the first week of May, reminding her that the ship sailed the same latitudes as southern Spain.

Spying a dot of light onshore, Rose felt her pulse quicken. Not so far away, some woman had likely risen in the quiet hush to begin another day. No doubt she was in the kitchen stirring banked embers at the back of the hearth, bringing the morning’s cook fire to life. By tomorrow, Rose might very well be tending just such a hearth, if the captain had spoken truthfully. According to him, colonials always came to the dock whenever his vessel arrived to bid for the bondservants he’d contracted.

“Good morn to ye, Miss Harwood.” A lone sailor made his way from the bow. He sidestepped some lashed-down barrels, a jovial grin revealing a gap in his front teeth.

“Good morning, Seaman Polk.” Rose quickly tucked her long night braid inside her hood. Remembering her state of undress, she scrunched in her toes in her bed slippers beneath the dark folds of her cloak’s hem. He would think her most common indeed, with barely covered feet.

“We should make port in an hour or so.” He paused beside her. “Ye might be wantin’ to tell the other womenfolk to start gatherin’ their belongings together. Soon as the cap’n reports to the harbor master, he’ll be wantin’ to …to see you folks on yer way.”

Rose knew the seaman wanted to spare her feelings by avoiding the plain truth: that Captain Durning would soon be auctioning off the lot of them to the highest bidder as if they were nothing but cattle or sheep. She managed a smile. “We packed our things last eve, but I suppose I should awaken them soon. They’ll all want to look their best.”

The sailor’s sunburned face brightened. “That won’t be no work a’tall for you and your sisters, Miss Harwood. ‘Specially Miss Mariah.”

“That’s most kind of you to say,” Rose assured him, though the words came hard as she turned back to the railing. She had argued bitterly against Mariah and Lily accompanying her to this new land. But indeed, their contention had been as sound as her own when she had bargained away the family assets. Mariah insisted that if she and Lily left with Rose, Charles would be able to move his young family to Harwood House, thereby eliminating the need for Papa’s business to support two homes. Contemplating their logical, if somewhat disheartening reasoning, their father finally relented.

Rose smiled to herself as she recalled Lily’s personal reason for coming along. The girl could not suffer the thought of her older sister going to the colonies all alone. After all, Rose had mothered her from her earliest memories.

Mariah, on the other hand, had a far more practical purpose. She had heard that the lines between the classes were less distinct in America and more crossable. She felt she might do quite well for herself amongst what was rumored to be a rather
provincial
people. Despite her own impoverished circumstance, she truly believed her beauty and charm alone to be a more than sufficient dowry. She’d spoken of little else from the moment the three had set sail.

No doubt about it, Mariah would have to be closely watched.

“Rose! Mariah!” Lily rushed through the cabin doorway, her cheeks positively glowing. “Captain Durning says it’s time for us to go ashore. I daresay, I cannot abide such excitement.”

“Nevertheless,” Rose said quietly to calm the younger girl, “he advised us to remain here until his business with our cabinmates and the German family from the adjoining quarters has been concluded.” She recalled with distaste the conspiratorial wink he had given Mariah as he related his reputation for “saving the best for last.” Rose would have much preferred being present during the earlier transactions for some idea of what she and her sisters might expect, but the man had been most insistent.

Now that the moment to disembark had arrived, her insides quivered uncontrollably. Her one slim comfort was the promise she had extracted from Captain Durning to sell the three of them together.

She glanced around the cabin, noticing how much less crowded it appeared once their luggage had been taken ashore. “Search under the cots, Lily. We shouldn’t want to leave anything behind.”

Mariah, already in the doorway, swung back. “For pity’s sake, Rose. Don’t be such a mother hen. We’ve checked the room from floor to ceiling, and as you can see, not a lock of our hair is out of place, nor has a single wrinkle dared crease our skirts.” She whirled out into the corridor with Lily chasing after her.

Compelled to make her own final inspection of the cramped quarters, Rose could only agree. Both her sisters were impeccably groomed. Mariah was stunning in her royal blue taffeta, shawled in white lace—a combination which enhanced the deep indigo of her eyes and her shining black hair. Her wide-brimmed bonnet sat at a tilt as blithe as the girl herself. The blue satin ties and white under-frills would help contain her bountiful curls.

Lily’s finely woven wool in muted pink accented her more delicate features and light gray eyes. Her hair had yet to darken from flaxen to golden brown as Rose’s had by the time she’d reached her fourteenth year. Mayhap Lily’s would remain blond, since her eyes were several shades lighter than Rose’s blue gray, and her complexion so fair it burned and freckled in the slightest sunshine. The two of them favored the taller, slender Harwood side, unlike Mariah, who had their mother’s more rounded figure.

Rose sighed. What would Mother have thought of her daughters’ present circumstances? She’d had such high expectations, such fine hopes for all her children. Her last words had concerned them as she’d extracted a vow from Papa to see the girls safely through the pitfalls of this earthly walk, and she expressly urged Rose, as the oldest, to remain faithful to her Christian upbringing as an example to her siblings.

Now such unforeseen changes lay ahead. But no matter what they entailed, Rose intended to keep that solemn pledge. In this she would not fail her mother.

With a last smoothing of her gloved hands over a daygown of nut-brown linen edged with natural lace, she left the safety of the ship’s cabin in search of her sisters. Surely they hadn’t gotten too far ahead in the few moments’ time since they’d dashed off.

Descending the wooden walkway from the ship to the quay, Rose surveyed the sprawling city with amazement. From the accounts she’d read in the English newspapers, she’d expected the ports to be little more than provincial villages. Yet from this high vantage point, she could see rows and rows of substantial buildings stretching inland. On either side of the
Seaford Lady
a veritable forest of masts jutted up from their moorings, while seagulls circled and darted low, their cries piercing the salt-laden air.

The wharf itself teemed with as much activity as any Bristol dock. Such clamor greeted her after so long at sea, and such an array of smells. Loaded wagons rumbled and groaned beneath heavy loads as they rattled across the wooden planks. Horses clomped and whinnied, while their drivers yelled curses and hawkers shouted their wares. Rose had to smile. On a wharf, every day was market day.

Unable to find her sisters in the crowd, she stepped aside for dockworkers busily off-loading the ship, while a customs agent inspected the cargo manifest. Amid all the hustle and bustle, red-coated king’s men kept order. This new land was every bit as civilized as her own England, Rose concluded. She relaxed and took a deep breath, catching her favorite smell, a whiff of the hundreds of hard rolls being baked to supply the outgoing ships.

Rose’s gaze lighted on a cluster of men dressed in the attire of tradesmen and merchants. In the center stood Captain Durning and her sisters. She hardly recognized the man, decked out in his best powdered wig, ruffles, and feathered, three-cornered hat. Obviously he wanted to impress the more simply dressed gathering. How sad that his ill-fitting coat puckered between its brass buttons, spoiling the image. With curt motions, he beckoned Rose to join them.

Hesitant to leave the safety of the ship, she waited for the captain’s more insistent gestures. When she could delay no longer, she moved toward him …toward a very uncertain future. Her pulse quickened upon reaching the landing.
Have faith. The Lord is looking after us
. Papa always said that—even when the opposite seemed true. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way through the gathering to join her sisters.

Captain Durning leaned close, looking none too happy with her. “Tardiness is not a virtue,” he rasped into her ear. He pursed his thick lips and stepped onto a platform made of sturdy boards placed on nail kegs. Head and shoulders above the crowd, he scanned his customers as his loud voice rang out. “Gentlemen! As I promised, I have saved the choicest for last. These three young lasses have been schooled in all the social graces, as well as the art of fine cooking. They can also read and do sums. Any one of ‘em would make an ideal lady’s companion or children’s governess.”

“Put up the one in blue,” a portly man hollered. He wore no frock coat, merely an unadorned vest over his blouse as if he’d just come from a trades shop. “I’ll bid on her.”

“I’ll expect a starting bid of no less than twenty-five pounds for this one.” The captain reached down to help Mariah onto the stage.

Rose’s gasp went unheard beneath the audience’s appreciative comments as they ogled Mariah, who stood up there for all to see. The miser had begrudged Papa the mere six pounds he’d shelled out for Mariah. For Lily he’d refused to go higher than five—scarcely more than a half a pound a year. Out of that stingy sum, their good father had sacrificed two pounds to each of his daughters in the event some calamity should befall them. And this vile man intended to profit a despicable fourfold!

A sudden realization penetrated Rose’s consciousness. The captain was offering Mariah separately. This was not to be borne! He’d promised all of them
and Papa
that he’d keep them together. “Captain Durning!” She raised her voice above the confusion. “You agreed to sell us as a family.”