Read Online Heart's Safe Passage by Laurie Alice Eakes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laurie Alice Eakes
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have to see to that. A daily walk made delivery easier.
A daily walk aboard a ship? Not if they remained locked in. She would have to talk to Docherty about that—and a number of other matters. One in particular.
“I’ll fetch out some of your stores.” Phoebe spoke a little too loudly to drown out her own thoughts. “Some raisins? Some dried meat?”
“Yes, both.”
Phoebe served Belinda her breakfast because she and everyone else had always served Belinda. Because serving her proved easier than listening to her complain. She seemed totally selfish, yet she risked her life, risked being tainted a traitor, to accept the word of a stranger, the enemy, in an effort to save her husband.
She’d been that devoted to her brother too. George might be worth the danger.
Phoebe prepared a meal for Belinda and began to organize the boxes of provisions to keep herself busy, to keep herself from thinking of Belinda’s brother, of the confinement of the cabin, of her own queasy stomach, of her current circumstances.
She couldn’t avoid those. Through the skylight, she caught the rumble of Docherty’s voice, the lilt of his young relative’s, others’. Locks surrounded her—on chests, on the weapons rack, on the cabin door.
The lock on the door clicked as Phoebe dug sewing materials out of a box for Belinda. Phoebe straightened and faced the portal, expecting the captain with orders as to what he intended to do with his recalcitrant prisoner.
Instead, Mel entered bearing a copper jug from which steam emerged. “Hot water. And I’ll bring you more ginger water, Mrs. Lee. But you really ought to eat something.”
“I know.” Phoebe dropped onto the nearest chair. She knew what she needed to ask, but the words lodged in her throat.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Chapman?” Mel asked.
Belinda swallowed her mouthful of raisins. “Never better. But I’m used to sailing. My husband took me on his schooner up to Baltimore and down to Norfolk many times. Phoebe prefers to ride.”
“If God wanted us on water, he’d have given us fins.” Phoebe forced herself to smile. “Thank you for serving us, Mel. Is your—is the captain leaving our care to you?”
“Aye, mostly. He says you will do me no harm.”
“He’s right.” Belinda cast Phoebe a hard glance.
“Of course.” Phoebe took a deep breath. “Will you ask him if I may please speak to him? I . . . I’m . . .” She swallowed and looked around the cabin. “Alone. That is, without an audience.”
“Aye, I’ll ask him.” Mel handed Phoebe the ginger water, then crossed the cabin to one corner. There she set the can of water on the deck, balanced between her feet, and pulled a shelf from the bulkhead. “You have a washstand now. Fold it up when you are finished with the washing up.”
“That’s so clever.” Belinda sprang up and made her way to the corner. “Where’s the—ah, you keep the bowl tucked behind.”
Clever indeed. Phoebe glanced around. Did other sections of the paneling conceal hidden compartments with less mundane cargo than a washstand and basin? More than likely. She would seek them out, if Belinda let her.
For the moment, she remained motionless, uninterested, as though nothing but her ginger water lay on her mind. Which was close to the truth for the time being.
“I will talk to Captain Rafe about you wanting to talk to him,” Mel said.
Phoebe nodded and watched the child strut from the cabin.
In the corner, Belinda happily splashed in the water, washing up as best anyone could with a basin, soap, and a sponge. The aroma of lavender bloomed through the cabin. Unless she found something else, Phoebe would have to use the lavender soap too, and she was already weary of Belinda’s excess with the fragrance. She didn’t have any of her own things except the handful of gowns she had packed for what she thought was a mercy trip to Williamsburg. She still huddled in Docherty’s boat cloak.
Belinda poured more water into
A daily walk aboard a ship? Not if they remained locked in. She would have to talk to Docherty about that—and a number of other matters. One in particular.
“I’ll fetch out some of your stores.” Phoebe spoke a little too loudly to drown out her own thoughts. “Some raisins? Some dried meat?”
“Yes, both.”
Phoebe served Belinda her breakfast because she and everyone else had always served Belinda. Because serving her proved easier than listening to her complain. She seemed totally selfish, yet she risked her life, risked being tainted a traitor, to accept the word of a stranger, the enemy, in an effort to save her husband.
She’d been that devoted to her brother too. George might be worth the danger.
Phoebe prepared a meal for Belinda and began to organize the boxes of provisions to keep herself busy, to keep herself from thinking of Belinda’s brother, of the confinement of the cabin, of her own queasy stomach, of her current circumstances.
She couldn’t avoid those. Through the skylight, she caught the rumble of Docherty’s voice, the lilt of his young relative’s, others’. Locks surrounded her—on chests, on the weapons rack, on the cabin door.
The lock on the door clicked as Phoebe dug sewing materials out of a box for Belinda. Phoebe straightened and faced the portal, expecting the captain with orders as to what he intended to do with his recalcitrant prisoner.
Instead, Mel entered bearing a copper jug from which steam emerged. “Hot water. And I’ll bring you more ginger water, Mrs. Lee. But you really ought to eat something.”
“I know.” Phoebe dropped onto the nearest chair. She knew what she needed to ask, but the words lodged in her throat.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Chapman?” Mel asked.
Belinda swallowed her mouthful of raisins. “Never better. But I’m used to sailing. My husband took me on his schooner up to Baltimore and down to Norfolk many times. Phoebe prefers to ride.”
“If God wanted us on water, he’d have given us fins.” Phoebe forced herself to smile. “Thank you for serving us, Mel. Is your—is the captain leaving our care to you?”
“Aye, mostly. He says you will do me no harm.”
“He’s right.” Belinda cast Phoebe a hard glance.
“Of course.” Phoebe took a deep breath. “Will you ask him if I may please speak to him? I . . . I’m . . .” She swallowed and looked around the cabin. “Alone. That is, without an audience.”
“Aye, I’ll ask him.” Mel handed Phoebe the ginger water, then crossed the cabin to one corner. There she set the can of water on the deck, balanced between her feet, and pulled a shelf from the bulkhead. “You have a washstand now. Fold it up when you are finished with the washing up.”
“That’s so clever.” Belinda sprang up and made her way to the corner. “Where’s the—ah, you keep the bowl tucked behind.”
Clever indeed. Phoebe glanced around. Did other sections of the paneling conceal hidden compartments with less mundane cargo than a washstand and basin? More than likely. She would seek them out, if Belinda let her.
For the moment, she remained motionless, uninterested, as though nothing but her ginger water lay on her mind. Which was close to the truth for the time being.
“I will talk to Captain Rafe about you wanting to talk to him,” Mel said.
Phoebe nodded and watched the child strut from the cabin.
In the corner, Belinda happily splashed in the water, washing up as best anyone could with a basin, soap, and a sponge. The aroma of lavender bloomed through the cabin. Unless she found something else, Phoebe would have to use the lavender soap too, and she was already weary of Belinda’s excess with the fragrance. She didn’t have any of her own things except the handful of gowns she had packed for what she thought was a mercy trip to Williamsburg. She still huddled in Docherty’s boat cloak.
Belinda poured more water into
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