Breakwater Beach (15 page)

The chestnut’s soft lips slathered her palm, and a pang washed over Elisabeth as she thought of Copper. Saying goodbye to her beloved horse, the one being that offered her true affection or pleasure, had been more wrenching than leaving her parents. 

Paul called to her, “That’s Ruddy. The other is Smooch. She loves to kiss.”

“Well, Ruddy, you’ll be mine then. And we’ll leave Smooch to the gentlemen.”

Ruddy nuzzled and accepted another carrot. Had God provided a sign that she’d done the right thing and soothed her angst with a horse’s show of approval? Elisabeth chose to believe it so. She patted her and walked across a large grassy patch, empty of any shrubbery, trees, or flowers. The house was luxuriously appointed, but the grounds were no more than a bare yard, which paled in comparison to the beautiful English garden that surrounded her home in Surrey. This bright, sunny area would be a fine place for a vegetable patch. Roses and other flowers would soften the stark sandy tracts of soil around the foundation.

Sara was setting a table on the backside of the porch. “The Captain wants to have lunch out here, Elisabeth.”

The goodwill bestowed upon her by the townspeople, the lovely weather, and the first taste of a new life conjured a strange emotion: contentment. “Set three more places. Paul, Katherine, and you should join us. Uniforms and formalities are not necessary here.” They’d been on a first name basis since the trials of rough seas, when she’d become their maid. It was time to break down the remaining barriers.

“As you wish.” Sara, still seemingly unsettled, disappeared into the house and returned with the place settings.

Elisabeth washed her hands in the kitchen, moved chairs outside, and helped set the table. Edward came around the corner with a tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in simple work clothes. His eyes were the brightest blue she’d seen in a long time. Elisabeth recognized the gentleman who had sat alone in a side pew at services.

“Mrs. Barrett, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jared Sanders.” He had a typical Yankee twang, with a queer accent substituting “ah” for “a”.

Calluses scraped her palms as he gripped and shook her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanders. Are you a mariner as well?”

“Of sorts, a fisherman. I have sailed in the past, but now prefer to stay closer to home. I also farm, and that’s where your husband has procured provisions.”

“I’d like to start a garden. In Surrey, we had a greenhouse for flowers. But I like the idea of growing our own food.” Elisabeth looked sideways at Edward and smiled, hoping he might take a lesson or two about making a living on land.

Edward looked down.

“I’d be more than happy to help you with that, Mrs. Barrett,” Sanders said.

Katherine and Sara wheeled out a cart with the first course and laid the table.

“You will be joining us, Jared?” Edward asked.

“It appears quite crowded already.” Sanders shuffled his feet and backed away.

“Nonsense, there is plenty of room for us all to sit together,” Elisabeth said.

“And you’ve brought the provisions, Mr. Sanders.” A rare grin spread over Sara’s face.

“Well, then, I will help retrieve the rest.” Sanders followed Sara into the house.

“I will go and find Paul.” Edward started down the porch stairs.

“Katherine already went to invite him.” Elisabeth looked at her husband, expecting him to be pleased.

Instead, he stared at the barn. Footfalls and happy chatter broke the strained silence, as the others returned. Sara and Jared wore smiles, Katherine, a blush, and Paul, a bemused grin.

“All equally matched now, my darling.” Elisabeth tried to get her husband to smile. He’d arranged for this gathering. What could possibly be amiss? Her feeble attempt at matchmaking?

“Yes, I suppose.” Edward, still distracted, held the chair while she sat down.

Chapter 16

July 1875

Edward stood on the porch and stared at the bay. He’d put it off for as long as he could. They would be leaving in a week. Elisabeth seemed settled, enjoying her horses, gardening, decorating the house, meeting neighbours. She’d accepted his explanations and justifications. Would that be enough to avoid another wrenching departure?

“What’s wrong, Edward?” Her voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“I’m tired, darling. I think I’ll take a nap before tea.” He couldn’t face telling her, not yet.

She came up behind and slipped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder. “That quick trip to and from Boston exhausted you?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night. Why don’t you come up with me?” He summoned the nerve to look her in the eye.

“Do you think it’s proper for us to go to our bedroom in the middle of the day? What will everyone think?” The usual lilt in her voice when he suggested some time alone had vanished.

“Elisabeth, I own the house. I want a nap. Can’t a wife sit on her chaise and do needlework or rest with her husband?”

“You’re in a cantankerous mood.” She pulled away and went inside.

She knew. He called after her. “If you care to join me, I’d like that.”

Edward went up and stretched out on the bed. His dark cabin, the uncomfortable mattress, no one to share it with, and the filth of being at sea for months were far from appealing. It wouldn’t be for much longer.

Elisabeth came in and her dress rustled as she snuggled next to him. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?” The scent of her perfume soothed him. He ran his hands through her hair, loosening the clips.

She sat up and rearranged her coiffure. “You went to Boston. That’s where your employer is. You’re the captain of a ship. I’m not daft.”

“Yes, we’re leaving for the Orient, Monday next.” Anxiety pricked his chest like a scared cat.

Her expression registered no surprise, no relief, no anger. “How long will you be gone?”

“At least six months.”

The silence hurt his ears. She looked away, her arms wrapped around her chest, her head lowered.

“Elisabeth . . .”

“I’ve only been here two weeks. Maybe I could go along?” She crawled back next to him.

“Never. The disease, the conditions. I couldn’t subject you to that.”

She nestled her head against his chest. He held her close, recalling how bad a sailor smelled after months at sea.

“It’s coming to an end soon.” He was glad her face was hidden.

“How soon, Edward?” Her tears moistened his neck.

“Maybe another year, as I said.”

“I want to have a family, and make a home here, but I can’t do that if you’re gone.”

“We may have already started a babe and we still have a week to go.”

She pressed her lips to his and clung to him harder than he remembered.

“Where is my prim and proper lady?”

Elisabeth unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off. “I don’t give a damn about propriety right now.”

He undid the buttons on her dress. Her hair came loose and fell over the pillow. It took forever to get all of her undergarments off; he was tired of stays and pantalets and lace and fluff. He savored the view as she finally lay naked next to him, looking intently into his eyes.

In two weeks, she’d lost her shy innocence and knew exactly what she wanted him to do, guiding his hands to the right place. And she’d figured out how much he liked it when she kissed her way down from his face to his chest, with a few stops on the neck and ears. The excitement of an unexpected interlude, and the fear of being heard or discovered, left him unable to hold back. His release came as soon as he’d entered her. Elisabeth did not seem to mind, allowing his mouth to muffle her cries. They fell asleep tangled up in each other.

A soft knock awoke him, and he retrieved a tray of tea and cakes Katherine had left outside the door.

Elisabeth absorbed the warmth of Edward’s body next to her, and memorized the feel of his muscular frame. She inhaled his musky scent, nuzzled his hair, and neck. The peaceful feeling after the release normally allowed her to sleep well, but the specter of his departure shadowed the moment with a heavy sadness. When Edward got out of bed, being alone was too much to bear. She rose and began dressing before he came out of the bathroom. The lamp he’d lit cast a yellow glow over the room, the odor of the oil acrid, biting, nauseating.

“Where are you going so early? Not even waiting for Katherine, are you?” He helped with the stays.

“Down to see you off, of course.” This seemed so much like that terrible morning in London, with Edward making haste to leave. She’d vowed that scene would not be repeated.

“Once we’re aboard, you can’t see us anyway.” Edward put on his clothes and started toward the bedroom door, obviously in a hurry to be on his way.

“I want to.” She grabbed his hand, and he led her downstairs.

A fire burned in the kitchen stove. The kettle steamed. The hearth of the home was full of warmth in the early morning chill, but when Edward left the void would be too great to fill. What if he never came back? What would she do then?

“Good morning, Captain, Elisabeth.” Sara poured tea.

“Good morning.” Edward took his customary seat at the table.

Paul came into the kitchen. “The carriage is ready when you are, Captain.”

“My everyone is up early. Sit, Paul, have some breakfast first.”

Feeling ignored, Elisabeth moved her chair closer to her husband’s.

He took the hint and rose to slip it under her. “You too, my love.”

Sara set tea, toast, and cakes down for all of them.

Edward perched on the edge of his seat and ate in haste.

“I’ll drive him down,” Elisabeth said.

“By yourself?” Paul, still standing, stopped eating.

“I know how to handle horses.” She would not give up those last private moments with her husband. Not this time.

Paul looked at Edward, who drained his teacup and said nothing.

“I packed you some things that will keep for a while, Captain.” Sara gestured toward a large basket on the floor. “Paul, please put it in the carriage. I need to wake Katherine. I’m sure she had no idea you’d be up so early, Elisabeth.”

“Thank you, Sara.” Edward finished his breakfast, rose, and put on his coat. On the way out the door, he perched a cap atop his curls.

Paul grabbed the basket and dragged Edward’s duffel out, leaving the two of them alone for one last moment. Elisabeth took the opportunity to run into her husband’s outstretched arms.

He tousled her uncoiffed hair. “You best stay here. I won’t have time for a more proper farewell than this.”

Why couldn’t the feeling of his lips, firm on hers, and the nuzzle of his cheek against hers last longer? “No, I’m going with you this time. By myself.” She brushed her palms down his cheeks and then draped a shawl over her shoulders.

“All right, Elisabeth, though saying goodbye here would make this easier for you.”

They went out to the porch and waited as Paul brought the carriage around. Bump and Jump stomped, snorted, and pawed. Edward rummaged in his duffle, preoccupied with last-minute details.

“They want their breakfast, ma’am. Perhaps I should go. They could get unruly.”

“See here now, boys.” Elisabeth rubbed their muzzles. “We’ll soon be back for breakfast.” They settled, while all the while she dreaded coming home to the empty bedroom. “I’ll be fine. Paul.” No, she wouldn’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

Paul helped Elisabeth into the driver’s seat and handed her the reins. Edward climbed up next to her. He picked up her hand and kissed it—and their eyes met. For the first time that day, his wrinkled brow betrayed a cast of sadness in his eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with his fingertips.

“
Bon voyage
, Captain. Go with God.” Katherine came out onto the porch in her nightclothes.

“Look after the ladies, Paul,” Edward said.

Elisabeth clapped the reins. “Walk on, big boys.” The horses ambled off, turned left at the darkened general store toward Breakwater Beach.

The ride was far too short and the scene bustling. Men loaded their belongings into dories, and the women watched them row out to the ship after hurried kisses, stroked faces, and tears.

“I love you, my darling. Green and gold silk, yes?” Edward jumped down, then took his basket and duffel. He paused for a moment next to the carriage.

“I only want you to come home as soon as you can, Edward,” Elisabeth whispered into his ear.

They shared one more hurried, harried kiss before he rowed off in a boat with Kyle Vauxhall.

In the faint light, the dories moved across the still water like giant bats, oars flapping like silent wings. One by one, figures ascended rope ladders, tossed up bags, and busied themselves. Elisabeth could still pick out Edward moving about on deck, no doubt shouting orders. Not until his black Captain’s cap vanished amongst a sea of white canvas could she tear her gaze away.

Bethea Vauxhall huddled near the jetty, arms crossed over her chest, watching in no doubt the same way. Elisabeth had never felt much in common with Kyle’s wife who, though pleasant, always seemed preoccupied with her young son. But today they were focused on the same thing—wondering when, and if, they’d ever see their husbands again.

“Good morning, Mrs. Vauxhall,” Elisabeth called.

“Mrs. Barrett.” Bethea nodded, a smile barely cracking her face.

The sails billowed like giant bed sheets as the ship turned and sailed.

Elisabeth clasped her hand over her mouth. Tears stung her eyes. She lost sight of the flags flapping atop the masts, and a familiar fear settled deep into her chest.

“Good day, Mrs. Barrett.” Bethea appeared forlorn as she made her way up the road.

Elisabeth guided the carriage next to her. “I’ll drive you home. It’s terribly dark and chilly this morning.”

“I don’t want to trouble you.” Bethea stared at her feet.

“No trouble, I’m glad for the company.” Elisabeth put out her hand to help her in. Comforting the woman comforted her.

Bethea settled beside Elisabeth, and the horses took off.

As they approached the main road. Bethea pointed. “Down there, on the left.”

Elisabeth used her whip and some force to get the geldings to turn left at the general store, instead of right. She stopped the carriage near the tiny farmhouse, and Bethea hopped down. Chickens ran about, and a rooster crowed. A crooked man limped out of the barn with a pail of milk.

“Clement, this is Elisabeth Barrett. Do you remember her from church?” Bethea asked.

“Aye, the Captain’s wife. Bringing you home in style.” He bowed slightly to acknowledge the women and went into the house.

“Would you like some tea, Mrs. Barrett?” Bethea’s shyness seemed to ease. She smiled.

“No, thank you. They’ll be worried if I don’t get right back. But I’m glad to know where you live. We should visit. Please, call me Elisabeth.”

“All right, thank you again, Elisabeth.” Bethea went into the house. 

The door slammed shut, and the empty hollow in her stomach ached once again. The hungry horses needed no coaxing and knew the way. The sun came up and the sky took on a pale orange glow.

Paul paced in front of the barn. He grabbed Bump’s bridle as she guided the geldings to a stop. “Did they behave? It took longer than I expected.”

“Just fine. I took Mrs. Vauxhall home.”

“Very good, ma’am.” He helped her down.

The firm grip on her arm reassured Elisabeth that he was a kind, trustworthy man who would be there to help her. Despite Sara and Katherine bustling about, the house seemed empty and quiet.

Sara looked up from her dishwashing. “More tea, Elisabeth? You barely ate or drank anything this morning.”

“No, thank you.” Elisabeth had an overwhelming desire to be alone, undisturbed, wallowing in misery. “I didn’t sleep much.”

“All right.” Katherine stroked her arm. “I’ll make up your room and help you finish dressing.”

“Not now. I need to rest.” Elisabeth went up the back stairs and down the hall to her room. She stepped out of her dress, put on her favourite nightgown, and lay down on the rumpled bed. She crawled over to the space Edward had left behind. The spicy scent of his pipe tobacco lingered. She buried her face in his still-dented pillow and cried herself to sleep.