in a less bitter tone. Her misfortune was in no part due
to this old man. And even if offered by mistake, he had let her dry
her cloak by his stove and warm her limbs enough to complete her
journey without feeling so dreadfully the bite of the cold.
The gentleman rubbed his boney chin
thoughtfully. This girl would suit his needs far better than the
one his clerk had found. He noted the fine lines of her face and
the worn state of her clothes. The dark hair, the look of innocence
ignited his thoughts. She was just what he had been searching for,
just the right one to deliver to his employer. And here she had
walked right in his door when he had been about to settle for a
lass who was in no way her equal.
“Sit down, miss. Perhaps good fortune has
brought us together.” A labored kindness sounded in his voice and
why it should cause her to shiver, she could not discern. “If I had
a pot of tea…but it is not a custom I have adopted from you
British.”
She arched a dark brow. “Oh no, sir. I see
your mistake and mine and must be on my way home.”
“You have a family, Miss … ?”
“Miss Bradstreet. Silvia Bradstreet. Only my
uncle, I keep house for him,” she answered with a touch of
resignation to her tone.
She was beginning to think it had been wrong
to come in. The old fellow seemed too intent on her. She had
thought he might be able to tell her about the notice. But the idea
of traveling to the colonies as a bond servant had left her mind as
the chill had left her body. Uncle Hollister would give no quarter
to having his dinner late. She would scarcely have time to roast
the lamb for him even if she hurried home.
“Your pardon, Miss Bradstreet, he said after
a moment. “You are right. I did mistake you for another, but
perhaps fate has intervened,” he paused, letting his eyes sweep
over the papers spread before him. “You see, had you come an hour
later, the quota would have been filled. But as you are here now, I
am quite willing to reward your endeavor on this cold day. There is
one berth left and it is yours.” He paused, waiting her reply, his
eyes now alight and seemingly larger.
Her brows arched. She felt a rise of unease.
“Sir, you speak of dealings that are unknown to me. I merely
stopped to take shelter from the cold. The notice aroused my
curiosity, nothing more. I believed you had taken pity on my plight
and invited me in to warm myself.”
He stirred a gnarled hand on the desk top,
pulled out a sheet of paper and removed the cap from an inkwell.
With a shaky hand he dipped in a pen and wrote a few lines.
Looking up he said in a low voice, “Again I
am mistaken and I beg your indulgence. My name is Weber.” His hands
wove together momentarily as if he needed to control them. “I am in
the employ of Wilhelm Schlange, owner of this shipping
company.”
He paused and stared at Miss Bradstreet. If
his instinct for judging people did not fail him, this young woman
told him a little less than the truth. She had been interested in
the notice, anxious for a chance to run away from someone or
something. The look had been there in her face. He could not have
been wrong. She was hesitant, unsure, but not lost to him yet.
There was something she wanted to get away from, or someone. He
knew most of those who entered willingly into bond service were not
so much seeking a new life as fleeing the old one.
“I thought you sought passage to the
colonies.” He continued. “A Schlange ship, the Eastwind ,
sails in two weeks and the position is one of importance on Mr.
Schlange’s estate. And a fairer agreement than most. If you should
change your mind, you can notify my man Wickes here to make the
arrangements.” He paused and Silvia thought how penetrating and
unusual his eyes were as they searched her face. “There is good
opportunity in the colonies for a young, healthy woman. And when
your time of service ends, you would have a share of property with
what wages you earn.”
“Sir, I thank
to this old man. And even if offered by mistake, he had let her dry
her cloak by his stove and warm her limbs enough to complete her
journey without feeling so dreadfully the bite of the cold.
The gentleman rubbed his boney chin
thoughtfully. This girl would suit his needs far better than the
one his clerk had found. He noted the fine lines of her face and
the worn state of her clothes. The dark hair, the look of innocence
ignited his thoughts. She was just what he had been searching for,
just the right one to deliver to his employer. And here she had
walked right in his door when he had been about to settle for a
lass who was in no way her equal.
“Sit down, miss. Perhaps good fortune has
brought us together.” A labored kindness sounded in his voice and
why it should cause her to shiver, she could not discern. “If I had
a pot of tea…but it is not a custom I have adopted from you
British.”
She arched a dark brow. “Oh no, sir. I see
your mistake and mine and must be on my way home.”
“You have a family, Miss … ?”
“Miss Bradstreet. Silvia Bradstreet. Only my
uncle, I keep house for him,” she answered with a touch of
resignation to her tone.
She was beginning to think it had been wrong
to come in. The old fellow seemed too intent on her. She had
thought he might be able to tell her about the notice. But the idea
of traveling to the colonies as a bond servant had left her mind as
the chill had left her body. Uncle Hollister would give no quarter
to having his dinner late. She would scarcely have time to roast
the lamb for him even if she hurried home.
“Your pardon, Miss Bradstreet, he said after
a moment. “You are right. I did mistake you for another, but
perhaps fate has intervened,” he paused, letting his eyes sweep
over the papers spread before him. “You see, had you come an hour
later, the quota would have been filled. But as you are here now, I
am quite willing to reward your endeavor on this cold day. There is
one berth left and it is yours.” He paused, waiting her reply, his
eyes now alight and seemingly larger.
Her brows arched. She felt a rise of unease.
“Sir, you speak of dealings that are unknown to me. I merely
stopped to take shelter from the cold. The notice aroused my
curiosity, nothing more. I believed you had taken pity on my plight
and invited me in to warm myself.”
He stirred a gnarled hand on the desk top,
pulled out a sheet of paper and removed the cap from an inkwell.
With a shaky hand he dipped in a pen and wrote a few lines.
Looking up he said in a low voice, “Again I
am mistaken and I beg your indulgence. My name is Weber.” His hands
wove together momentarily as if he needed to control them. “I am in
the employ of Wilhelm Schlange, owner of this shipping
company.”
He paused and stared at Miss Bradstreet. If
his instinct for judging people did not fail him, this young woman
told him a little less than the truth. She had been interested in
the notice, anxious for a chance to run away from someone or
something. The look had been there in her face. He could not have
been wrong. She was hesitant, unsure, but not lost to him yet.
There was something she wanted to get away from, or someone. He
knew most of those who entered willingly into bond service were not
so much seeking a new life as fleeing the old one.
“I thought you sought passage to the
colonies.” He continued. “A Schlange ship, the Eastwind ,
sails in two weeks and the position is one of importance on Mr.
Schlange’s estate. And a fairer agreement than most. If you should
change your mind, you can notify my man Wickes here to make the
arrangements.” He paused and Silvia thought how penetrating and
unusual his eyes were as they searched her face. “There is good
opportunity in the colonies for a young, healthy woman. And when
your time of service ends, you would have a share of property with
what wages you earn.”
“Sir, I thank
Similar Books
