The Ghost (21 page)

Good afternoon, miss, Martha Jordan said primly, lowering her eyes. She and her husband had both commented on how odd it was that Sarah was traveling without chaperone or escort. And just the way she looked at her made Sarah realize that she had to come up with an explanation for it. Not having Margaret with her was going to make things very awkward, particularly in Boston. She knew that even there a woman traveling alone would be considered most unseemly.

Hello, Hannah, Sarah said gently, smiling at the little girl. She was plain but very sweet, she looked just like her mother, and they were both looking a little pale. Sarah wondered if they were seasick. Are you well?

Not very, the little five-year-old said, and her mother looked up in spite of herself and both women curtsied.

I'd be happy to have her stay with me anytime you and your husband want a little time together, Sarah said kindly. I have another bed in my cabin. I have no children of my own, unfortunately, but my late husband and I always hoped that we'd have them. She didn't mention the six that had died at birth and been stillborn. But what she had said had immediately caught the attention of Martha Jordan, which was what she had intended.

You're a widow then? Martha Jordan said with visible approval. Then that explained it. She still should have had a maid or a female relative with her, but if she were a widow, it was much less shocking and could be explained.

I am. Only recently. Sarah lowered her eyes demurely, and wished that it were true, but sadly, it wasn't. My niece was to have made the journey with me, she said, assuming Martha might have seen Margaret sobbing on the dock when she left her, but she was much too frightened. She'd have been hysterical all the way to Boston. I just couldn't bring myself to force her, although I promised my parents that I would take her with me. But it seemed too unkind to hold her to her agreement, though it's put me in a dreadful position, Sarah said, looking mortified, and Martha Jordan became instantly sympathetic.

Oh, my dear, how terrible for you, particularly being a recent widow. And the poor thing hadn't even any children. She didn't know how old she was, but she thought her very beautiful, and guessed her correctly to be in her mid-twenties. If there's anything we can do for you, please let us know at once. Perhaps you'd like to visit us in Ohio. But Sarah didn't think so. She was determined to get to Boston.

You're very kind, Sarah said as she thanked her, and then went into her cabin. She had worn a large black silk hat that tied under her chin, and a black wool gown, which corroborated her story. Though she didn't look like she had been grieving. Her eyes literally danced as they reached the high seas and England disappeared on the horizon.

And for the first few days, the trip was quite peaceful. They had brought some pigs and some sheep with them, to slaughter and eat during the trip, and the cook seemed to be making an effort with their meals. But Sarah noticed that the crew were quite noisy at night, and Seth Jordan told her that they drank rum and got utterly drunk every evening. He had been very firm about suggesting that she and his wife should keep to their cabins after supper.

Most of the merchants stood along the deck and chatted every day, and despite a little seasickness here and there, everyone appeared to be in good humor. Captain MacCormack chatted regularly with each of them, and he had told Sarah he was from Wales, and he didn't say anything to her, but he was overwhelmed by her beauty. He had a wife and ten children on the Isle of Wight, but he admitted to her wistfully that he rarely saw them. He hadn't been home in two years. And at times he found it hard to concentrate, whenever Sarah stood on the deck, looking far out to sea, or even when she sat quietly somewhere writing in her journal. She had the kind of rare looks that made men catch fire as they looked at her, and with each passing hour, they smoldered more. The captain was sure that she was unaware of her effect on all of them. There was a quiet strength and humility about her that only made her more attractive.

They'd been at sea for nearly a week when they hit the first storm, and it was a beauty. Sarah had been asleep in her bunk when it hit, and one of the sailors walked into her room, and told her he had to lash her to the wall with the ropes that hung there for that purpose. And as she looked at him, she was very frightened. He had woken her from a sound sleep, and he reeked of rum, but his hands were gentle and sure as he tied the knots, and then hurried back on deck to the others. And as she listened, she could hear every inch of the small ship groan and strain beneath them.

It was a long night for all of them, and all of the passengers were extremely ill from the constant rising and sinking of the ship, and she closed her eyes and prayed each time it shuddered and fell. None of them came out of their cabins for two days, some of them for considerably longer, and a week after the storm, Martha Jordan still hadn't emerged, and Sarah asked her husband how she was faring.

She's never been very strong, he explained, she had the influenza last year, and it nearly killed her. She's been very seasick ever since the storm, he explained, looking vague and a little worried. He had his hands full with Hannah. And that afternoon, Sarah knocked on the cabin door and went in to see his wife. She was lying on her bunk, deathly pale, and there was a slop bucket just beneath her. It wasn't a pretty sight, and as soon as Sarah walked in the door, the poor woman began retching.

Oh my dear, let me help you, Sarah said, genuinely concerned, it was obvious that the poor thing felt as though she were dying. Sarah held her head for her, and when Martha Jordan could speak again, Sarah learned that she was not just seasick, she was pregnant. But the happiest news for Sarah was that she had discovered only the day before that she wasn't. She was enormously relieved to realize that she would never again have any link to Edward. She was truly free now. And if he wanted an heir, he was going to have to find another female. But as she looked at the poor woman retching in her arms, Sarah knew that hers was an entirely difficult situation.

We could have stayed in England with my family until the baby was born, Martha said unhappily, as she leaned against Sarah with her eyes closed. But Seth thought we should get back to Ohio, and then she started crying. It'll take weeks to get back there after we reach Boston. And even that was two months away, two months of rising and falling and swaying on the ship. Sarah couldn't imagine anything worse at this stage of her confinement, and she was more grateful than ever not to have to deal with it herself. Just knowing she had Edward's child in her would have driven her to distraction.

But as she looked down at Martha in her distress, she turned her thoughts to what she could do to help her. First, she went to her cabin to get some lavender water she'd brought with her, and a clean cloth, and she bathed her forehead in the cool, scented water. But even that faint smell made her nauseous. Then she attempted to wash the woman's face and pull her hair back. She switched the slop bucket to an empty pail, and she promised to bring her back a cup of tea, if she could get someone in the galley to make one.

Thank you, the poor woman whispered hoarsely, you can't imagine what this is like ' I was sick the entire time with Hannah ' But Sarah knew it all too well, and had done it far too often, which made her even more sympathetic to this woman. And mercifully, after a cup of tea, and some biscuits the cook provided for her, by late afternoon, she actually felt a little better and had stopped retching. Seth Jordan said Sarah was an angel of mercy, and thanked her profusely, and then she took Hannah with her, and played games with her for a little while. She was a sweet child, and all she wanted was to be with her mother. Sarah took her back to her mother after a little bit, but Martha was too ill to care for the child, she was vomiting again, and Hannah had to go back on deck with her father. He was talking to some of the men and they were smoking cigars one of them had bought in the West Indies. They were very fine ones, and the smell was so pungent even in the sea air that Sarah was tempted to try one, but she knew what a harlot the men would think her. She told Seth Jordan as delicately as possible how ill his wife was again, and he thanked her for doing what she could to help her.

They enjoyed a few more calm days after that, and then hit another storm, and after that they didn't see good weather for two weeks, nor did they see many of the passengers out of their cabins. They had been on board for three and a half weeks by then, and the captain estimated they had done half the journey. Providing they didn't hit any really awful storms, it was going to take them a total of seven weeks to reach Boston. Despite the bad weather, Sarah walked around the deck at times, looking up at the sails and watching the crewmen. And she couldn't help wondering what Edward had thought of her disappearance. She wondered if he had figured it out by then, or if Margaret had told him where she'd gone, or if she'd kept her promise. But there was nothing he could do now. He couldn't force her to come back. He couldn't do anything. All he could do was hate her, and he had before anyway, so she saw virtually no difference.

One morning, she was joined by another brave passenger, Abraham Levitt, one of the merchants. Have you relatives in Boston? he asked her. He was a prosperous man, and had done extremely well in commerce. He was precisely the sort of man she never would have met before, and it fascinated her to be able to talk to him, and hear about all his trips and trades, and travels through the Orient and the West Indies. And he was impressed by the questions she asked him. She was most unusual for a woman. And she kept trying to ask everyone everything she could about Boston and the settlements to the north and west of it. She wanted to know all about the Indians and the forts and the people in Connecticut and Massachusetts. She had read about a picturesque place called Deerfield, where there were waterfalls and quite an elaborate stockade, as well as Indians, which intrigued her. Will you be visiting people there? the man asked once he learned she had no connections whatsoever in Boston.

I think I might like to buy a farm there one day, she said pensively, as she looked out to sea, as though she were trying to make her mind up, and he looked at her in consternation.

You can't do that. You can't just buy a farm. Why, a woman alone would have nothing but trouble. How would you run the farm? And the Indians would just carry you off the first time they saw you. It was what he would have liked to have done, but Captain MacCormack ran an extremely proper ship, unlike some, and he was keeping a fatherly eye on Sarah. All of them had been disappointed. She was so beautiful that sometimes all they wanted was to be able to look at her, and stand near her. They bumped into her sometimes, just so they could reach out and touch her. All the men were aware of it, and Sarah had no suspicion of it whatsoever.

I don't think the Indians will carry me off, she said, laughing at him. He was a pleasant man, she knew he had a wife in Connecticut, and he was in his early thirties. And it was obvious from the enterprise he ran that he was going to make a lot of money, and although she knew she shouldn't have, she admired him for it. She knew that things were different in America, and she hoped that one day, in a place like that, he would be respected for all that he'd accomplished, and she said as much to him as they stood by the rail, chatting until dinner.

You're a remarkable woman, Mrs. Ferguson. I really like you, he said bluntly. And then the first lieutenant announced that dinner was served, and Abraham Levitt walked her in to dinner.

Seth and Hannah Jordan were already there, Martha hadn't come to dinner in weeks. She never left her cabin anymore, and she was looking very ill and very frail each time Sarah saw her. It was frightening to see her, but even the pharmacist seemed to have no clue as to what to do for her. He had exhausted all his remedies, and so had Sarah.

Sarah shared a lively dinner with all of them, as she always did, as they all exchanged stories and legends and tales, and even ghost stories. They all agreed that Sarah told the best ones. And she told the best children's stories too. She told one to Hannah that night and helped her get to bed, so her father could stay up on deck with the other men. And in her cabin, Martha was sleeping. She had been vomiting for weeks, and she seemed to be wasting away before their eyes, but no one could help her. But Sarah imagined that other women had been through it before, at least that was what the captain said. No one had ever died of seasickness. But the storm they encountered that night made her doubt that.

Captain MacCormack said afterward that it was one of the worst ones he'd ever been in. It lasted for three days, and all the sailors on deck had to be lashed to the masts, the passengers tied to their bunks in the cabins, and two men were washed overboard as they attempted to save the sails. One of them had torn in half, and equipment was floating everywhere around them. And this time when the ship came down after a swell, it felt as though it were crashing into rocks. The Concord shuddered so hard as she hit the water that it seemed as though every piece of wood on her would splinter. Even Sarah was terrified this time, and she cried in her bunk wondering if she would be taken at her word, and drown at sea rather than stay with Edward. But even if she did, she didn't regret it.

On the fourth day, the sun came out, and the sea calmed a little bit, though not completely. And as the passengers came out of their cabins after that, they all looked more than a little ragged. All except Abraham Levitt. He said he had been in far worse storms on his way to the Orient, and he told tales that left everyone horrified. They were all looking a little weak and pale, but when Seth and Hannah came up, he looked terribly worried and he came to find Sarah.

It's Martha, he said, with a distracted air, she's not well. I think she's delirious ' she hasn't taken even a sip of water in days, and I just can't seem to make her do it.

You must try, Sarah said with a worried look. She knew that women had died of dehydration.