Ship of Dreams (19 page)

"And I've enough luck to make up for any lack," declared Della, her eyes twinkling with special meaning. "Besides, look at this sea. If we have such weather the whole way, as we did in the Pacific, we shall certainly have nothing to fear."

The other women seemed comforted by their calm replies. A few of the gentlemen came up then, and as they clearly wished to discuss business concerns, Della excused herself and went with the other ladies to talk and walk along the deck.

Kent watched her for a wistful moment before turning to join in the masculine conversation. He found Nelson Sharp regarding him shrewdly. For the next hour the discussion turned upon shipping concerns, but when the other gentlemen drifted away, Sharpe remained.

"I've frequently noticed that a man's passion for his wife subsides quickly once the first days of marriage are past," he said without preamble. "It's quite unusual, however, to see the opposite occur. You are to be congratulated yet again, my friend."

Something in his expression told Kent his suspicions, never entirely allayed, had been aroused again. "I certainly think so," he agreed easily. "Della and I had such a brief courtship that we had little opportunity to get to know each other before marriage. Now we find we are even better suited than we first realized."

"Is that a fact?" Sharpe still appeared skeptical. "On the surface you appear very different indeed. You, after all, come from one of the oldest and finest families in New York."

Kent had to fight down a surge of anger at the implied insult to Della. "I have no doubt my wife will do both me and my family credit," he said with icy politeness, though he'd have preferred to remove Sharpe's smile forcibly, with his fist. The violent impulse startled him.

"Oh, no doubt, no doubt," Sharpe continued, oblivious. "I was simply observing the uniqueness of your situation. If I didn't know better, I'd almost think your marriage wasn't consummated until just a day or two ago from the way you two behave now."

Forcing a smile to his lips, Kent replied, "Not that it's any of your business, of course, but my wife and I did have a difference of opinion to work out. She had some of the same concerns you've voiced about our dissimilar backgrounds, but all is settled now to our mutual satisfaction."

Something of his anger must have come through in his tone, for Sharpe blinked and took a step backwards. "No, none of my business at all. Apologies, Bradford, of course. Glad to see everything is working out so well." With a quick tip of his hat, he decamped, much to Kent's relief. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd have been able to restrain himself.

"You're looking thunderous." Della's voice came from behind him, making him wheel around to face her. "I take it you don't care much more for Mr. Sharpe than I do. Does he still suspect something, do you think?"

With an effort, Kent brought his face and voice under better control. "He did, but I believe I've finally convinced him that we've just had newlywed jitters, now over."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I hope so. That man has set my teeth on edge from the moment I met him. He seems the sort who would cause trouble for sheer enjoyment—unless it would interfere with his profit."

Again he was amazed by her perceptiveness. "Precisely my own assessment of his character. But enough about Sharpe. In a few hours, his suspicions will be groundless. The day is fine, the water is smooth, and the deck spacious. Let's enjoy our wedding day, shall we?"

*
          
*
          
*

Captain Herndon welcomed them into his private cabin shortly after luncheon. Della regarded him with interest—a smallish man with thinning hair that must once have been as red as her own, but which was now shot with gray.

"So," he greeted them, in a voice that seemed too large for his frame, "in your haste to leave California, you somehow neglected to wed, I hear. Let's rectify that oversight at once."

Della glanced at Kent in some confusion. Had he told the captain about her flight? But he met her eyes and gave a tiny shake of his head. It was merely the captain's figure of speech.

The ceremony was quiet and brief. Della surprised herself by answering the captain's few questions so calmly, considering the monumental change in her circumstances that was taking place. But when Kent repeated his own vows and replaced her mother's wedding ring on her finger with new significance, she felt a calm certainty that she was doing the right thing.

That night, when Kent finally slumbered after the ecstatic consummation of their union, doubt reared its ugly head again, but Della sternly ordered it away. Now that they were wed, she and Kent could handle anything life threw at them—censure, poverty, none could be a match for their united love. Still marveling that she was actually Mrs. Kenton Bradford (of the New York Bradfords), Della drifted off to sleep, drowsily musing that the
Central America
had truly become her ship of dreams.

*
          
*
          
*

The next three days, as they steamed through calm seas toward Havana, were idyllic. Kent and Della spent nearly all of their time together, walking, sitting, standing at the railings, alternating between conversation and companionable silence. Kent had never been happier in his life.

Now that they were well and truly married, no longer did Della allude to the difficulties she feared lay ahead. Kent, too, was content to let tomorrow take care of itself. He knew as well as she did that all would not be smooth sailing ahead. For one thing, there would be the scene, possibly ugly, with Caroline and her family to get through. But he saw no point in spoiling his present happiness worrying about it.

On the afternoon of September seventh, they steamed through the narrow entrance of Havana's harbor. "What is that?" Della asked him, pointing to a structure high upon their left. "It looks like a castle!"

Kent smiled down at her, remembering her excitement in Panama over the new sights. "Yes, that's Morro Castle. It dates from the late sixteenth century, as does that," he pointed to a smaller castle on the right-hand side of the harbor entrance. "The Castillo de la Punta."

"Why, Kent! I thought you didn't know any Spanish," Della chided him with a grin.

"I don't. I only know the name—not what it means."

"Castle of the Point," she translated. They were now passing the towering El Morro, which shielded the harbor, and on which the Castle Morro perched. Kent pointed out other items of interest upon the shore as they passed them—those he knew about, anyway.

The buildings became denser as they progressed, nearing the heart of Havana. It fanned out along both arms of the harbor, a far more populous city than Panama or Aspinwall. Half an hour later they dropped anchor, joining several other ships already in the harbor. Immediately a bevy of small boats, some no bigger than canoes, surrounded them, their occupants shouting up to the
Central America'
s passengers.

"What do they want?" Della asked, joining the others at the crowded rail.

"I imagine they wish to sell us things, just as the natives in Panama did," Kent guessed. "We're all rich Americans to them, after all."

"Oh, my! Look at the size of those oranges." She listened a moment. "Only ten cents? An orange like that would cost nearly a dollar in San Francisco!"

Smiling indulgently, Kent dropped a few dimes down to a boat below them, then leaned out to catch the oranges tossed up in exchange. "The food aboard is such that I don't mind supplementing it a bit," he admitted.

"Will we be able to go ashore?" Della asked after wrapping her oranges in her shawl. "I'd love to see the city!"

"I'm not sure. On my previous voyage, as I said, we had a day in Havana, but our schedule may not allow it this time. I'll ask the captain."

Captain Herndon, when Kent found him in the wheelhouse, nodded, his eyes twinkling behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. "I'll allow you and your bride an hour or two ashore if you'd like, Mr. Bradford. We'll be transfering a few passengers this evening, then continue on in the morning. I'll ask everyone to be back aboard by full dark, however. I don't want to risk a paid-through passenger getting so involved in the nighttime pleasures of Havana that he misses the sailing."

Kent returned to Della with the news, and she quickly prepared to go ashore for a brief tour. "I've been pinning my hopes on Havana for the chance of a new dress," she admitted. "Let's hurry!"

With the Eastons, they spent the next hour in the quaint Havana shops. Together, the ladies agreed on a gaily striped ready-made dress of blue and green as Della's best choice. Kent paid for the gown, glad of the chance to finally buy her something of substance, though it was but a token compared to what he planned to do in New York. His whole fortune could scarcely repay Della for the riches she had given him.

All too soon, it was time to return to the ship. "I'll model my new gown for you tonight," Della promised him with a wink as they regained the deck of the
Central America
. "Then you can help me to take it off again."

"A plan I heartily approve." He pulled her close against him, and they moved to the railing to watch the transfer of cargo and passengers. A dozen or so well-dressed people accompanied the stevedores, and a corresponding number of current passengers had gathered near the waist of the ship with their baggage—those bound for destinations other than New York.

One or two of these were people Kent and Della had befriended, so they went over to say their goodbyes. They were still trading pleasantries when the new arrivals came aboard.

"Bradford! Kenton Bradford!" A once-familiar voice boomed across the crowd, making him turn with a stifled oath. No, his ears had not deceived him. Striding toward him, a broad smile on his fleshy face, came the bulky form of Francis Cadbury.

Caroline's brother.

Though a hard knot formed in his stomach, Kent managed to summon a smile. A hundred recollections assailed him as the other man advanced: of being bullied by Francis, who had surpassed him by two years and twenty pounds when they were boys; of his possessiveness toward Caroline and his comments that Kent was not good enough for her; and, more recently, of his obsequiousness when Kent was in a position to benefit Francis financially.

All of this passed in a flash, and then Francis stood directly before him.

"Good to see you again, Francis," Kent lied. Then, after only the slightest hesitation, "Let me introduce you to Della—my wife."

*
           
*
   
        
*

CHAPTER 13

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the moon.

—Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Della noticed Kent's slight hesitation and quickly guessed the cause. This was someone he knew from New York—someone who knew of his engagement to Caroline and would be startled to hear of their marriage. She extended her hand with a smile, prepared to explain again the whirwind nature of their "courtship," but froze at the incredulous outrage in the other man's face.

"Wife? Did you say wife?" His beady gaze swung from Della to Kent and back. "What the hell is this, Bradford?"

Startled
fell far short of describing this reaction. "We met in Sacramento," Della offered, wondering what his connection was to Kent—who seemed momentarily tongue-tied. "We were married only two days before taking ship."

Pure fury blazed from the man's small eyes, making her recoil in alarm. "And what of Caroline?" he demanded of Kent, his fleshy cheeks quivering with his anger. "Is she to discover this only when you arrive? If you make her an object of ridicule, I'll—"

Della's stomach clenched as she realized that this must be a relative of Caroline's—a brother or cousin, perhaps. "Kent wrote to her," she improvised hurriedly. "She should have received the letter by now." Anything to keep this man from attacking Kent, as he seemed on the verge of doing.

Kent now found his voice. "I'll make my explanations to Caroline, not to you," he said calmly. "Della, Francis Cadbury, Caroline's brother."

"And protector," Francis added ominously. "To think I changed my travel plans just so that I could join you aboard this ship. I always said you weren't worthy of her, Bradford, and now you've proven it."

Drawing himself up, Kent looked down his nose at the man. Though half his girth, Kent topped him by several inches in height. "I seem to recall you changing your tune when you thought I could benefit you. I return now with a substantial infusion of gold for Bradford Shipping and its related enterprises. Are you certain you don't wish to remain on terms with me?"