Mail Order Bride--Latham's new wife Read online

  Mail Order Bride

  Latham's new wife

  Kate Whitsby

  Dedication

  To YOU, The reader.

  Thank you for your support.

  Thank you for your emails.

  Thank you for your reviews.

  Thank you for reading and joining me on this road.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  It was customary for the Captain of the ship to greet the first class passengers as they boarded his vessel. During this quick introduction the officers and staff would also keep their eyes open and mouths shut as they studied the new faces of the herds they would be taking to Boston, Massachusetts.

  “There’s a Scottish lassie to take your breath away.” A man in a tightly buttoned white coat with brass buttons whispered.

  Nodding his head in the direction of a peach-cheeked woman in a brown and blue plaid skirt who daintily lifted her hem just to the ankle to step onto the ship's deck.

  The Captain cleared his throat and extended his hand.

  “Welcome aboard, miss.” His gray hair fluttered like the flags atop the crow’s nest. “I’m Captain Ramsey. My First Officer Dean.” He tipped his head to the left.

  The woman smiled with her eyes as she grasped the very tips of the Captain’s fingers in her delicately gloved hand.

  “Capt’n.” Her voice was soft but not weak. “Officer Dean. I’m Annis Breck. My sister is...Oh, where’d she disappear to now?” Stretching and looking behind her Annis scanned the crowd finally spotting her lost sibling. “Sorcha!” She called to a downturned bonnet.

  Quite stealthily the First Officer nudged the Captain as the woman approached.

  “You have a sister? How wonderful. I’d like to invite you both to join me at my table for dinner. Won’t that be lovely?”

  “M’sister, Sorcha Breck.” Annis tilted her head to the right and let out a sigh.

  “Welcome aboard, Sorcha. I’m Cap...” The words stopped in his throat as the wide brimmed hat tilted upward.

  Sorcha Breck looked up at the Captain and first mate. She had the same fair, soft, plump skin as her sister but the resemblance stopped there. A pug nose sat below two closely set almond shaped eyes. Her smile, if it could be called that, was more like an expression of discomfort, perhaps a bout of gas or a pinch from her corset.

  Annis slipped her arm underneath Sorcha’s and pulled her close.

  The Captain, now nudging the first mate cleared his throat.

  “Welcome aboard the Oceanic.” He grinned pinching his thick, peppered eyebrows together. He didn’t have to say a word. The Breck sisters knew what the look meant as if the man had spoken the words outright.

  How can these two be sisters?

  It wasn’t so bad for Annis. She was referred to as the pretty one. But Sorcha had grown accustomed to the term the other one.

  “Dinner at yer table.” Annis nodded her head and smiled. “We’ll be lookin’ forward to it, Cap’n Ramsey.”

  Again he cleared his throat and nodded his head.

  Dozens of people followed in the Breck sisters steps along a thick wooden plank aboard the huge ship. There were ladies wearing fine silk tapestries and hats with feathers. Most of them had come to Scotland for a visit and were headed back to America. Their gentlemen chaperones dressed just as well and in some cases better in coat tails and the gold chains of their watches dangling from their vest pockets.

  Running back and forth as if the ship were sinking were an innumerable number of valets and maids escorting some of the guests to their cabins, helping others with their bags and the majority carrying silver platters with glasses full of spirits and ashtrays for their long cigars.

  “Can ya believe this, Sorcha?” Annis whispered as they got out of the way of their fellow travelers trying to board. “I’m besides m’self. The Cap’n askin’ us to join ‘im for supper. How excitin’?”

  “Annis, darlin’, you know he wasn’t askin’ me to sup. If the man’s eyes left prints they’d be all over ya by now.” Sorcha’s low voice was like a whisper. “He don’t know how lucky he is, Denholm is at the port in Massachusetts. He’d have laid him flat, Cap’n of the Oceanic or no.”

  Annis blushed and giggled.

  “That fiancé of yours would get us tossed into the ocean before even settin’ sail.” Sorcha continued, enjoying her sister’s laughter. “And I don’t know what ya find funny about it. You’re marryin’ the brute as soon as we land in America. I’ll bet he’ll be so desperate for you he’ll have a priest waitin’ to bless yer union as soon as we step off this dingy.”

  Nearly bursting as she tried to control her laughter Annis pulled her sister tighter and buried her head in her thick neck.

  “Sorcha, if you’d ever let any man see what you show me you’d have so many suitors you’d not be able to spit without hittin’ one.”

  “Good thing I gave up spittin’.” Sorcha teased and looked up at her big sister. The two Breck girls had always been close. Born just ten months apart they were more like twins, fraternal twins of course, than individual siblings.

  Even after first being born, when babies are all red and spotted bearing nothing but pink gums as they cried their salutation to the world Annis was a vision. She was perfectly round and let out a pitiful whimper as if to say she had a chill before her mama took her in her arms and she snuggled to sleep.

  Sorcha was a wrinkled, splotchy mess with black curly hair that screamed her arrival and decided not to stop. Her mother held her close, swaddled her, gave her her right breast then tried the left. Finally, her father took her in his arms and began to talk to her. As if they were the words of an angel Sorcha calmed down and fell asleep.

  “She looks just like me.” her father said through tears of joy. “The poor thing.”

  Although Sorcha was never treated any worse than Annis, and Annis not treated any better than Sorcha by their parents, society had a different lesson in mind. When their parents had passed just a few short years earlier Annis and Sorcha promised to take care of one another.

  So when Denholm, Annis’ fiancé, had finally sent for her to join him in the United States she made it clear she would not come without Sorcha. Denholm reluctantly agreed and sent enough fare for the ladies to travel together.

  The man had to have been working all day and night to come up with the money, not daring to risk another Scottish bully from stealing her heart away from him. Sorcha often would joke as they waited for notice of when the ship would be leaving that if they didn’t shove off soon Denholm was going to declare a war on his homeland just to get some ships within swimming distance.

  He’d been gone for two years. He always asked about Sorcha in his letters but Sorcha knew it wasn’t to really know how she was getting on but rather to see if she had found a suitor and he could have Annis come home to him alone. But, with each letter Annis would inform her fiancé that Sorcha was doing fine and looking forward to an adventure on the sea.

  “Your cabin is just this way, my ladies.” A tiny maid in a black uniform with a doily collar extended her arm down a short flight of stairs. As the view of the sky and deck disappeared both women could suddenly feel the shift and roll of the giant vessel even as it rested at the dock. “Can I get you a valet to help with your bags?”

  “No. That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” Annis clutched her carpetbag that was stuffed beyond capacity.

  “You’re lookin’ a little pale, sister.” Sorcha’s thick brown eyebrows furrowed. “She’s not going to swipe yer pho
to of Denholm. I know you have at least one in that bag.”

  Annis smiled and tried to laugh but it came out as a sigh instead of a chuckle.

  “Let me.” Sorcha took her sister’s bag in her empty hand and waddled awkwardly in the direction of their cabin. With each twist and turn down the hallway the women hoped they’d find their quarters. Down another flight of steps and around another bend they finally reached the door marked with their number.

  “Oh, dear.” Annis was sweating. So was Sorcha but it was from carrying all the bags. “I think I need to lie down.”

  “Let’s get yer feet up.” Sorcha soothed. Opening the door she gasped. “Oh, sister, it’s beautiful. You’re going to feel wonderful in no time. The walls look like they’re made of chocolate and the beds’r stacked.”

  Bunk beds were in the far wall about five feet from the door. In the middle was a nightstand that doubled as a desk. Across from the beds was a couch built right into the wall covered in a maroon and gold tapestry.

  “Let me put your things away for you, Ann. You just lie down.”

  “I’m sure this will pass in no time.” Annis sat down on the bed. “It’s probably just all the excitement.”

  “I’m sure that’s it.” Sorcha soothed. Her own queasiness was quickly subsiding. Looking around the cabin she spied a porthole window. “Let’s get some of that salty air in here. That’ll make you right.”

  After a short rest the magnificent liner began its slow departure from the harbor.

  “Do you want to go wave g’bye to England, Liverpool and our Scotland?” Sorcha looked at her sister but the green hue in the poor girl’s face answered that question.

  “I don’t think I better. But you go on. Tell me all about it.”

  Pulling her wide brimmed bonnet down almost over her eyes Sorcha made her way carefully back down the hallway maze and up to the deck. The ship’s whistle was so loud it caused a reverberation Sorcha could feel in her chest. Without making eye contact with any of the other passengers she managed to find a small space of rail unoccupied. Squeezing her plumb figure up against the metal rail she looked out at all the faces waving. Some were crying. Others were smiling.

  Sorcha didn’t do either but stared in amazement at the watery landscape that was stretched out before them. Inhaling deeply she felt her lungs fill with the fresh salty air.

  “Annis, you would love this.” She muttered. Taking in every detail she could she made her notes in her head so she could describe everything to Annis when she went back to the cabin.

  There was a woman with pink roses who threw them down to what looked like a young boy and his nanny. Two older people cried and waved their hankies to what looked to be a newly married couple. A seasoned veteran dressed in his uniform that was impeccably pressed and polished waved stoically what looked like a final farewell to his home.

  “It was an amazing sight!” Sorcha gushed after she saw the boat safely out of harbor. “The land just got smaller and smaller until there was nuthin’. Nuthin’ but water in all directions. Ann, you got to get to yer feet and take a look.”

  “That sounds amazing, all right. But I don’t think I’m ready just yet.” Annis’ complexion was still green.

  “What about sup with the Cap’n? You can’t expect me to just show up, now can you?”

  “Course you can.” Annis ruffled. “He invited us both. You heard him as plain as day. He can’t go back on his word just cuz he changed his mind. My gosh. What kind of man changes his mind like a woman that way?”

  “I don’t feel right leavin’ ya here all alone.” Sorcha sat on the tiny lower bunk of the bunk beds that her sister was stretched out on. Taking her hand she patted it as their mother would do when either one of them came down with the sniffles. “I know what we’ll do. I’ll send a note to Cap’n Ramsey apologizing, but that we’d both enjoy his company once we are feeling better. I’m sure this happens on more than one accession. You can’t be the first to suffer a bout of sea sickness?”

  “I really wish you’d go.” Annis’ eyes welled up.

  “We’ll have dinner together here. Tomorrow. We’ll get up with the sun just like at home and have breakfast on the deck with fresh air and sea gulls.” Sorcha wiped away a tear that had snuck down from Annis’ eye across her temple and into her hair.

  In her best penmanship, Sorcha composed a quick note of apology to Captain Ramsey and First Officer Dean hoping they would understand the situation and welcome them on another night to enjoy his company at dinner.

  Within the hour a dozen red roses were brought to the Breck’s cabin with a note from the Captain. I am sorry you do not feel well. There will be a seat for you at my table whenever you are feeling better. Robert.

  “I’ve been walkin’ round this boat all day and somehow you got on a first name basis with the Cap’n steering this vessel without settin’ foot outside the cabin?” Sorcha teased.

  “No, Sorcha. Don’t make me laugh. The room spins if I laugh.”

  “Were you yellin’ out the porthole?”

  “No.” She held her stomach yet chuckled. “Stop it. You’re going to make me vomit.”

  Sorcha laughed and shook her head.

  “All right. Would you like me to read to you then?”

  “That would be nice.”

  Sorcha pulled a book from her carpetbag. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Within the first chapter Annis had fallen asleep. Sorcha sat for a moment then decided she would go topside.

  Before she left she sniffed the roses that added a real touch of elegance to what Sorcha thought was an absolutely perfect room. She studied every strand in the tapestry, smelled the clean down of the pillows, listened to every groan and creak of the hull as well as the conversations of the other passengers as they bustled back and forth in the hallway. She wanted to remember this until she was old and gray. She wanted to be able to slip back into this room, lay her head on the clean pillow and smell the salty air at any time her mind needed a rest.

  Straightening her skirt and brushing the sleeves of her blouse Sorcha quietly stepped out into the hallway. Peeking one last time at her sister she took comfort in the fact the girl would be back on her feet after a good night’s rest.

  But, unfortunately, sea travel was not for Annis. The sky had started out clear and blue the following morning but quickly turned overcast. The waves did not seem large from the deck but made the mighty boat rock up and down causing a good number of passengers to either stay in their rooms or near the railing.

  Sorcha found it thrilling. Holding on to the ropes to pull herself along the deck in slick spots she made her way to the bridge. It was customary for guests to pay the Captain a visit and see how a mammoth vessel such as the Oceanic was operated.

  With a slack jaw Sorcha watched as the Captain stood at the helm gently guiding the ships wheel to the left and the right while calling directions to his men. The choppy current may have given Sorcha a scare at first but after watching the Captain and his men handle the terrain she was quite impressed with their skills.

  Like a ghost or a spray of mist Sorcha made a habit out of stepping up to the bridge a few times a day to watch the crew maneuver the ship. Deep in the back of her mind she almost wished there would be a thunderstorm so as to watch how they would best the waves and carry their passengers and cargo through the tempest.

  At night, when most of the crew and passengers were asleep, Sorcha would leave her cabin and walk the deck in the moonlight just pretending.

  She would pretend she was pretty, wearing an elegant dress with garnet earrings, talking with a suitor who was professing his undying love to her. But Sorcha would decline his advances. She loved another man who was tall and strong. No, he was not rich and powerful as her imaginary suitor was but poor and lovely.

  Alone in the dark Sorcha was graceful and charming. Her laugh was an intoxicating teeter instead of the loud snap followed by a snort. Her fingers were long and thin made for playing the harp or writing poetry inst
ead of the thick stubs she managed with. The perfume she’d dab in her wrists and behind her ears in the afternoon would last like it did on Annis instead of fading quickly into the musky smell of the dirt that made her home of Scotland.

  When she was alone she was a swan.

  But, everyday as the sky lightened and the ship began to pulse with life of crew and passengers, Sorcha would retreat into the shadows, pulling the brim of her hat down across her face, pulling her collar up high, hiding her hands beneath worn, stained gloves that were her mother’s until she could find time to be alone again.

  “It’s those late nights.” Annis finally was sitting up in her bed with her bare feet on the floor. “Did you ever think that maybe a full night of sleep, all the way through, might be helpful?”

  “I’ve heard lemon juice gets rid of freckles but I’ve never heard of sleep curing the uglies.”

  “Sorcha!” Annis scolded.

  “Come on, Ann. We’re grown women. I know what I am.” She let out a big sigh of frustration then took a seat next to her sister. “I could sleep like Rumpelstiltskin and it won’t evn’ make a dent. Besides, I like the wee hours. Everythin’s peaceful. I can enjoy my thoughts.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t talk that way.” Annis tucked a stray strand of hair behind Sorcha’s ear. With a heavy grunt and bone-cracking stretch Annis stood. “Will you show me all the sights on this here barge. Take me to yer favorite spot. If I spend one more day in this room I’ll go gooseneck crazy.”

  Sorcha new just the place located on the tip of the front of the boat just below the bridge. As she expected there were several empty sitting chairs with small round tables in between. When Sorcha was alone she’d pretend she was steering the ship, her First Officer proclaiming his undying love to her as she maneuvered the iron beast through choppy seas. But alas, she would refuse him. Her only love was the sea.

  “The fresh air is what you need. That little window barely lets a draft in.”

  Within seconds of arriving an eager young valet in crisp black trousers and a short white jacket hurried up to the two women smiling broadly at Annis then jerking his head back slightly when his eyes fell on Sorcha.