Gallant Match by Jennifer Blake Page B

stare. Sonia observed it with irritation that was increased in some manner by the odd rapport between them just moments before. His duties did not include the right to approve or disapprove of her dance partners, she thought.
    At the same time, she felt a certain satisfaction in the knowledge that the Kentuckian was not happy in the association with Monsieur Tremont. She could see no reason for him to think everything would go his way. Besides, if Kerr Wallace was concentrating on separating her from what he believed to be unsuitable company, he would have less time to consider her other actions. And if he thought her in danger of being captivated by Monsieur Tremont’s addresses, might he not feel she was becoming resigned to the voyage and her fate?
    Sonia increased her pace, deliberately closing the distance that had opened between the four of them. Shaking off her introspection, she summoned her liveliest manner in the effort to appear charmed by the company of her aunt’s newly met escort.

Seven
    T ante Lily always swore she seldom closed her eyes at night, being a martyr to insomnia in its many forms. Sonia would not have contradicted her for the world, but had never found this to be true. Nor was it so on this, their last night at their mooring before an early-morning departure. Within minutes of blowing out the lamp, her aunt’s gentle snores could be heard from the lower bunk.
    Sonia had depended on that instant oblivion since it seemed her last opportunity to leave the ship. Kerr Wallace had been entirely too much on guard throughout the day. Every time she approached the gangway, he was there. If she attempted to join some group departing after seeing off a family member, he appeared at her side. She had come finally to realize that she was always under his eye so was forced to watch the Mobile packet sail without her. If she was going to escape him, these night hours promised to be her best, perhaps only, option.
    Moving with the greatest stealth, she pulled out the pantaloons, shirt and boy’s jacket she had secreted underher pillow and dressed in the dark. She climbed down from the upper bunk and pushed her feet into her borrowed boots, then felt for the small drawstring purse she had left under her discarded petticoats. With it thrust deep in her jacket pocket, she tiptoed to the door. She turned the key with care and peered out into the passageway.
    The narrow corridor lay dark and empty in the pale light filtering down from the top deck. She sighed with relief, since she would not have been surprised to discover Kerr Wallace sleeping across the threshold like some servitor of times gone by. No doubt he had thought her aunt’s presence would act as sufficient restraint upon her movements. That was his mistake.
    Pulling the cabin door shut behind her, she stood a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to dimness, listening for movement. All she heard was heavy snores from farther down the passage, the quiet creak of rigging and the lapping of the river along the ship’s beam.
    She should have been satisfied, even glad. Instead, a hard shiver of dread rippled down her spine. It was, just possibly, too quiet.
    What was she doing? Was anything worth the acid doubt that poured along her veins? Was it really possible that she could make her way unnoticed along the dock with its piled crates, boxes and barrels, its tangles of rope and baling twine, its mounds of baled cotton creating tight alleyways where anything, anyone, might be hiding? Could she hide away until after the Lime Rock sailed, or until the Mobile packet returned? And what then? What then?
    She would be free.
    Free.
    Free to go where she pleased, do what she wanted, live as she preferred without thought of anyone else’s wishes or disapproval. She would be her own mistress, answerable to neither father nor husband but only to herself. That was surely an end worth striving for.
    Swallowing hard, she lifted her chin and started