dismiss him? She’d even started a letter to her father, concerning Thomas Eversley’s dismissal.
Jeremy again listened to her rant and rage one night in her cabin. He’d arrived to dine with her, glad to be out of the first mate’s cabin, since the man had arranged a visit from one of the prostitutes. More than once Jeremy had been invited to partake of one of these women’s charms and always he’d refused, not eager to contract some dread disease just to indulge in a moment of lust. He couldn’t wait for the voyage to end either, and he had already decided that when he came face-to-face with Ian Briston he’d tell him what he thought of him. The man had to know what cargo was being transported on this ship. After all, Nightingale would dock in Philadelphia and Briston would, no doubt, be there for the unloading. The thought of human transport sickened Jeremy, but what was worse was the idea that Briston might truly be a monster. Bethlyn wished for a normal married life, yet Jeremy worried just what she might be getting into if Briston decided to fulfill his husbandly rights and keep her for his wife.
Not wishing to upset Bethlyn with his thoughts, Jeremy kept them to himself and listened to her while she voiced her frustration about the whole unseemly mess. “I’ve penned a message to my father already,” Bethlyn said as she spooned a bit of broth into her mouth. “We’ve had our difficulties, but I sincerely doubt that my father has any knowledge of Nightingale ’s cargo.” She grew silent a moment and peered at Jeremy from under long brownish lashes. “Have you ever seen any of the women close up? How do they look?”
“I’ve seen one or two at close range,” he admitted. “But what do you mean, Bethlyn? I assure you that the women look like any other women. They haven’t anything more than any other woman has if that’s what’s worrying you. Granted, most doxies aren’t splendidly attired, but they’re human beings, nonetheless. I feel sorry for the poor creatures. It must be an awful way to make a living. You know, selling your body to live.”
Bethlyn hadn’t thought about that. In her mind any woman who sold herself was a disgusting, lowborn creature. She’d never known poverty or true adversity. Despite her father’s hatred of her, he’d provided well for her. She couldn’t imagine being poor or resorting to selling herself just to survive. Jeremy’s comment took her by surprise, but she felt even more surprise to suddenly feel pity for these women. “Do you think Captain Montgomery is treating them well?”
Jeremy shrugged. “As well as he can, I suppose.”
“Perhaps I should offer them help of some kind.”
“What kind of help?”
“The opportunity to make a decent life for themselves. I’m certain that in Philadelphia these women could find gainful employment. There must be some families who need servants or establishments who’ll hire them. I might be able to help them.”
“God, no!” Jeremy jumped up, sloshing wine on the front of his jacket.
“But, Jeremy, you just said…”
“Never mind what I said. I’m sorry now I opened my mouth and said anything. What I hoped to impress upon you, Bethlyn, was that these women are physically like yourself. They don’t have horns growing out of their heads. However, ladies don’t associate with them.”
“You admitted you feel sorry for them,” Bethlyn said calmly and took the wet cloth Mavis handed her. She began rubbing the cloth vigorously over the wine stains. “Can’t I have the same pity for them?”
Grabbing Bethlyn’s hand in his, Jeremy stilled her movements. “Yes, you can, but I don’t like that look in your eye. Every time you’ve ever had it, you’ve gotten involved in some mess, and pulled me in with you. I’m warning you, Bethlyn…”
She gave a high flutey laugh, and her expression was as innocent as a young child’s. ‘‘I’m not up to anything. I assure you I’m
Jeremy again listened to her rant and rage one night in her cabin. He’d arrived to dine with her, glad to be out of the first mate’s cabin, since the man had arranged a visit from one of the prostitutes. More than once Jeremy had been invited to partake of one of these women’s charms and always he’d refused, not eager to contract some dread disease just to indulge in a moment of lust. He couldn’t wait for the voyage to end either, and he had already decided that when he came face-to-face with Ian Briston he’d tell him what he thought of him. The man had to know what cargo was being transported on this ship. After all, Nightingale would dock in Philadelphia and Briston would, no doubt, be there for the unloading. The thought of human transport sickened Jeremy, but what was worse was the idea that Briston might truly be a monster. Bethlyn wished for a normal married life, yet Jeremy worried just what she might be getting into if Briston decided to fulfill his husbandly rights and keep her for his wife.
Not wishing to upset Bethlyn with his thoughts, Jeremy kept them to himself and listened to her while she voiced her frustration about the whole unseemly mess. “I’ve penned a message to my father already,” Bethlyn said as she spooned a bit of broth into her mouth. “We’ve had our difficulties, but I sincerely doubt that my father has any knowledge of Nightingale ’s cargo.” She grew silent a moment and peered at Jeremy from under long brownish lashes. “Have you ever seen any of the women close up? How do they look?”
“I’ve seen one or two at close range,” he admitted. “But what do you mean, Bethlyn? I assure you that the women look like any other women. They haven’t anything more than any other woman has if that’s what’s worrying you. Granted, most doxies aren’t splendidly attired, but they’re human beings, nonetheless. I feel sorry for the poor creatures. It must be an awful way to make a living. You know, selling your body to live.”
Bethlyn hadn’t thought about that. In her mind any woman who sold herself was a disgusting, lowborn creature. She’d never known poverty or true adversity. Despite her father’s hatred of her, he’d provided well for her. She couldn’t imagine being poor or resorting to selling herself just to survive. Jeremy’s comment took her by surprise, but she felt even more surprise to suddenly feel pity for these women. “Do you think Captain Montgomery is treating them well?”
Jeremy shrugged. “As well as he can, I suppose.”
“Perhaps I should offer them help of some kind.”
“What kind of help?”
“The opportunity to make a decent life for themselves. I’m certain that in Philadelphia these women could find gainful employment. There must be some families who need servants or establishments who’ll hire them. I might be able to help them.”
“God, no!” Jeremy jumped up, sloshing wine on the front of his jacket.
“But, Jeremy, you just said…”
“Never mind what I said. I’m sorry now I opened my mouth and said anything. What I hoped to impress upon you, Bethlyn, was that these women are physically like yourself. They don’t have horns growing out of their heads. However, ladies don’t associate with them.”
“You admitted you feel sorry for them,” Bethlyn said calmly and took the wet cloth Mavis handed her. She began rubbing the cloth vigorously over the wine stains. “Can’t I have the same pity for them?”
Grabbing Bethlyn’s hand in his, Jeremy stilled her movements. “Yes, you can, but I don’t like that look in your eye. Every time you’ve ever had it, you’ve gotten involved in some mess, and pulled me in with you. I’m warning you, Bethlyn…”
She gave a high flutey laugh, and her expression was as innocent as a young child’s. ‘‘I’m not up to anything. I assure you I’m
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