far too many years afloat to feature such appointments. Many a mast still thrust upward from its ship’s deck, bare sentinels to the years that sails had provided the power of navigation before technology made them obsolete.
Having brokered hundreds upon hundreds of business deals, Daniel understood the routine well. The suites on the upper level carried first-class passengers between the two shores, but what lay in the holds below depended on which direction the ship sailed. A vessel such as this would carry a multitude of products from the New World to England. For the return trip, the holds transformed to carry a different cargo entirely: immigrants.
All things considered, Daniel felt pity for the wretches enduring the purgatory below deck. Then again, their very presence had provided his son with a caregiver. Daniel cast a glance at the suite’s second stateroom. At home, he’d been able to slip into the nursery. Indeed, he’d done so often. Originally, it was because he and Henrietta would marvel over the miracle of the child the Lord had given them. After Henrietta’s death, Daniel had been drawn there for solace and to relish every minute he could get with his boy.
Arthur had a habit of sleeping with his thumb in his mouth, his little knees tucked up beneath him, and his bottom in the air. More often than not, he’d escaped his blankets and needed to be covered. Was the new nanny conscientious about that important detail?
For the past two days, Daniel had enjoyed a scant fifteen minutes each morning with his son. Whiling away the remainder of his time on the deck and in the library prudently kept him and Miss Fairweather apart. Rigid adherence to propriety made sure others understood he wasn’t taking advantage of the close quarters. It’s just for a few more days. All those weeks I traveled on business, I wasn’t with Arthur; he didn’t suffer from my absence . . . or did he?
His son’s lack of a mother nagged at Daniel, yet Daniel refused to let that loss propel him into marriage. A competent, caring nanny could nurture Arthur. Daniel had been so consumed with business matters that important things regarding his wife had slipped past his awareness. In the end, his inattention had killed her. After making such a horrific mistake, he couldn’t imagine taking on the responsibility of a wife ever again.
Today’s ocean calm had permitted Nanny to take Arthur for a stroll. Watching them through the window, Daniel had noted their route. Henceforth, he would occupy a deck chair along their path and instruct the nanny to bring his son to him at nine-thirty sharp each morning. The nanny could wander off and leave Arthur with him for an hour. Pleased with the plan, Daniel took the lamp into his chamber.
The supple leather of his Bible felt good in his hands as Daniel sat beside his bed. He opened to where the black strip of silk marked his place. Since the day he’d determined to make this trip, he’d decided to read a chapter each evening out of the book of beginnings—Genesis. The thirty-ninth chapter of Genesis told a chilling tale of how Potiphar’s wife tried to seduce Joseph. Though Joseph resisted her, she made accusations . Lord, is this just the next part of the history of your people, or is this a warning to me? The image of Miss Fairweather flashed through his mind. Clearly, she took excellent care of Arthur—but Daniel knew almost nothing of her.
Troubled, Daniel knelt by his bed. “Almighty Father, I thank you for the safety of this day and that Arthur is thriving. You know my concerns, Father, regarding his present nanny. Grant me a spirit of discernment. Don’t let me be blinded by her kindness to my son.”
He’d no more than finished his prayer than an ear-splitting, grating sound filled the air. It died out, and Daniel remained still for a moment, trying to determine the cause. The ship wallowed through a trough and took a long while to level out. Daniel bolted to his feet. The
Having brokered hundreds upon hundreds of business deals, Daniel understood the routine well. The suites on the upper level carried first-class passengers between the two shores, but what lay in the holds below depended on which direction the ship sailed. A vessel such as this would carry a multitude of products from the New World to England. For the return trip, the holds transformed to carry a different cargo entirely: immigrants.
All things considered, Daniel felt pity for the wretches enduring the purgatory below deck. Then again, their very presence had provided his son with a caregiver. Daniel cast a glance at the suite’s second stateroom. At home, he’d been able to slip into the nursery. Indeed, he’d done so often. Originally, it was because he and Henrietta would marvel over the miracle of the child the Lord had given them. After Henrietta’s death, Daniel had been drawn there for solace and to relish every minute he could get with his boy.
Arthur had a habit of sleeping with his thumb in his mouth, his little knees tucked up beneath him, and his bottom in the air. More often than not, he’d escaped his blankets and needed to be covered. Was the new nanny conscientious about that important detail?
For the past two days, Daniel had enjoyed a scant fifteen minutes each morning with his son. Whiling away the remainder of his time on the deck and in the library prudently kept him and Miss Fairweather apart. Rigid adherence to propriety made sure others understood he wasn’t taking advantage of the close quarters. It’s just for a few more days. All those weeks I traveled on business, I wasn’t with Arthur; he didn’t suffer from my absence . . . or did he?
His son’s lack of a mother nagged at Daniel, yet Daniel refused to let that loss propel him into marriage. A competent, caring nanny could nurture Arthur. Daniel had been so consumed with business matters that important things regarding his wife had slipped past his awareness. In the end, his inattention had killed her. After making such a horrific mistake, he couldn’t imagine taking on the responsibility of a wife ever again.
Today’s ocean calm had permitted Nanny to take Arthur for a stroll. Watching them through the window, Daniel had noted their route. Henceforth, he would occupy a deck chair along their path and instruct the nanny to bring his son to him at nine-thirty sharp each morning. The nanny could wander off and leave Arthur with him for an hour. Pleased with the plan, Daniel took the lamp into his chamber.
The supple leather of his Bible felt good in his hands as Daniel sat beside his bed. He opened to where the black strip of silk marked his place. Since the day he’d determined to make this trip, he’d decided to read a chapter each evening out of the book of beginnings—Genesis. The thirty-ninth chapter of Genesis told a chilling tale of how Potiphar’s wife tried to seduce Joseph. Though Joseph resisted her, she made accusations . Lord, is this just the next part of the history of your people, or is this a warning to me? The image of Miss Fairweather flashed through his mind. Clearly, she took excellent care of Arthur—but Daniel knew almost nothing of her.
Troubled, Daniel knelt by his bed. “Almighty Father, I thank you for the safety of this day and that Arthur is thriving. You know my concerns, Father, regarding his present nanny. Grant me a spirit of discernment. Don’t let me be blinded by her kindness to my son.”
He’d no more than finished his prayer than an ear-splitting, grating sound filled the air. It died out, and Daniel remained still for a moment, trying to determine the cause. The ship wallowed through a trough and took a long while to level out. Daniel bolted to his feet. The
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