Page 22 of Ireland Rose


  Their words hung in his head as he took firm steps to retrace his way back to the ship. It was too early to go up to bed, the sun still high in the west. He would work off his frustrations on the Emerald Star.

  Once aboard, the familiar sway and dip of the ship in the water slowed his body and mind. He went down to his bunk, changed into work clothes and joined the crew who was still moving crates to make room for more. The sale of the cotton would bring him a sizeable sum. The higher they stacked the crates the more money he’d make. Tonight he needed to work.

  Thoughts went to Captain Lovell. How he’d promised the man he’d curb his drinking and he had done it, after so many years of throwing back the glass hoping it would soothe his wounds. But no matter how hard his arms and hands and legs worked, his mind would not shut off. Somehow he’d managed to spend the years sloshing the memories away with drink. But now he was too busy with his own ship and Captain Lovell’s belief that he could manage his young wife’s affairs as well.

  Ashton wondered now if Captain Lovell had been daft. He had just failed himself. First for sending a young pregnant female to her then for proposing to the young woman so soon after her husband was gone. What had he been thinking? His mind whirled. But how could he assign the child to the orphanage. Newgate was run by decent people now. Back when he and Ava were there the man and woman had been harsh and no-nonsense.

  His own family failed. First his father left the family and his mother left Scotland hoping to give her two children a chance to make it in the world. His father, he learned later, left his wife and children, for the love of a young girl.

  His mother was a saint in his eyes. She had brought them across to Ameriva and begun her own milliner shop she ran out of their small house which was on the poorer side of town. And then tragedy. She had contracted some sickness, no one ever told them what, and died, leaving them with no place to go except Newgate. Ava had been twelve, he fifteen, nearly grown. They had made it through their grades, their mother had seen to that. But no further schooling came after she died. They were made to work. He learned he had a way with numbers and was trained and given a chance to make something of himself thanks to a kind older man at the bank. He had done well after the man spent an entire year tutoring him. By the time he was twenty he was a bank employee.

  That was how he met Captain Lovell. They had taken up a conversation at the bank window. When the Captain found out his dream of becoming a shipmate and traveling the world, he offered him a job. How well he remembered the first time Captain Lovell had said the words, “Good job son.”

  “No one had ever called him son, least of all his father. From that day to this he never quit thanking God, the God his mother served, whom he believed in but didn’t know very well. He had called out to God when he was in that orphanage after both his parents were gone and asked Him to keep him and his sister safe. But with every hardship that came along, he lost a bit of trust as time went by. Even now, with all the good that had happened, he still had trouble believing God to be anything more than a harsh taskmaster, pleased only with perfection.

  He slammed down the box he was bearing and berated himself for his weakness. Why had he thought himself worthy to ask Mrs. Lovell to marry him was beyond him. What had he been thinking? How would he ever be good enough for a woman like that. A woman that reminded him of Darby.

  Another box slammed to the floor, and another.

  He worked off the steam and the liquor he promised himself he would never touch again and realized the sun had just disappeared behind the water’s edge. Tired, he made his way over to his room and after a hearty meal at his own small table, fell into bed bone- and brain-tired. In two days’ time he would be on the water and free from the demons that chased him like barking bloodhounds.

  Chapter 49

  It was time to go. He forced himself to visit Mrs. Lovell before he left. It was the right way to separate. Keep the foolishness he had created yesterday to a minimum if that were possible.

  His hard knock brought Emmanuel to the door.

  At the man’s nod, Ashton walked in and waited. He kept his eyes away from that desk. He need not engage himself her personal affairs from now on. His job was to make certain the Ireland Rose made a profit, that all the finances were in order at the bank and that Mrs. Lovell’s well-being was protected.

  “Sir, it is a beautiful day to set out isn’t it?” Ireland Rose greeted him as she came from her office, wanting him to feel assured of her friendship. “I daresay, you should have an excellent crossing.”

  “Indeed.” His heart was not racing. The comfortableness between them was welcome on both sides, he figured.

  “Shall I bring Carolina Jane down so you can see her?”

  Ashton loved her happy voice and the serene smile that rested on her lips. He stared at them for a moment and turned away and then back again.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all, she has been freshly bathed and fed and is quite enjoyable this morning.”

  He watched her lively step as she climbed the stairs and came back down with the baby in her arms, looking like she herself was the child’s mother.

  “Ah,” he took the child’s hand and the tiny fingers tightened around his finger. He could feel Ireland Rose’s breath on his cheek. She hardly noticed he was there, fully amused with the baby in her arms.

  “Here hold her. She’s become quite chubby now that she’s learned to eat.”

  Before he could object the woman had gently handed the child over. He had never held one this little before and wondered at his foolish offer to raise it himself.

  The little lass wiggled and her open eyes seemed to seek him as he spoke. She must have heard his deep voice, for her head turned slightly and her eyes crossed.

  “Isn’t she funny?” She drew close to wipe a dribble of milk that ran down the miniature chin and then put the handkerchief back in the sleeve of her wrist like she had done this her entire life. And the child not two weeks old.

  When the baby fussed he quickly turned it back over to Mrs. Lovell. He must remember to keep everything between them on a business level. “If you need anything send a wire. If you wouldn’t mind dropping a note every now and again to let me know all is well, I will not be concerned. Matilda Jane will return to the orphanage as soon as she is able.”

  “I will see that Matilda Jane has whatever she needs.” She said gazing at the babe.

  “If there is nothing else you wish to discuss, I will be on my way.” He took his hat off the peg, anxious to be gone.

  “I believe we will be fine, sir. I wish you an excellent crossing. As the Irish say, may the wind be always at your back.

  “And yours.” He made eye contact, kept his back straight, put on his hat, and exited.

  He hoped all would be well because he did not intend to come back until September. Distance was what he needed and it would give him time to engage a flat in London so he could…escape the sultry Charleston summers. At least that’s what he told himself.

  Chapter 50

  Rose returned to the work at hand. First a feeding, then a nap. The office had already been straightened and her paintings put away. She doubted she’d have much time to paint these days. And there would be meetings of the ladies regarding the design and furnishing of the new property. She wiped the moisture from her upper lip and wondered when she had ever been so happy. After all the loss and sadness, she found joy.

  Baby was fed and put down for a nap and Rose flew below stairs to make a list and plan dinner with Portia when they heard the stairs creak. The both looked at each other and got up.

  “Matilda Jane, you are looking well. And quite rested.” Rose kept her voice low and her smile genuine. “It is good to see you up and about.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been so laxadaisical but I had no strength in my mind nor my body.”

  “Chile you done borne a chile out o’ dat body. That was sumpthin. You tired, that’s all. Doin’ t
hat schooling was good for ya, kept you in dat bed ‘til yo body and your mind got better.”

  “Thank you Miss Portia And Miss Rose. You have been so kind to me. I will remember it forever.”

  Rose saw the quivering lips and wet eyes and went to her, arms enclosing the young girl, a woman now. “It’s all right. You have grown up. And God has got work for you to do. Just you wait and see.”

  “God? Do you think He can do something with me . . . after . . . everything.” She pulled back to see Rose’s eyes.

  “Of course He can. First of all you did not do anything wrong. Even if you did, people may not forgive. But God does, if you just ask Him.”

  “I already did.” She said through tears.

  “Then jus’ believe Him chile.” Portia’s apron was serving double duty. “You ask and believe, it be so. And dat’s dat.”

  Matilda Jane swiped her cheeks dry and nodded.

  “Come on now you twos, time to eat and be strong.” Portia turned and hustled to the kitchen.

  * * *

  July flew by and it was mid August. Rose checked her calendar…where had the time gone. Matilda Jane returned to the orphanage and working under the tutelage of her teacher, was already teaching basic French to children under her age. All the while learning it better herself.

  There had been two meetings of the women’s group and much progress had been made at the new location. Mrs. Pinckney had donated all the materials for curtains, and there were a lot of windows, as well as bedding for light coverings for each bed. Rose had written a bank check for her part, because she had little time to associate outside her home. No one asked her questions and she felt quite safe. She had told no one about the child.

  She had seen little of Ava, her husband quite happy with his new promotion, had taken up most of her time making calls and singing his wife’s praises. When Rose did see her walking at the park or passed her in a shop, Ava looked extremely satisfied. They exchanged secret smiles. Because she was always on her husband’s arm, they had not spoken privately. It was even more important to Mr. McGuire to be seen publicly now that he had posted his name as a candidate for Mayor of Charleston.

  Stella and Foster had announced they were expecting a child. Ireland Rose wanted so much to tell her about her own baby. But dare not. At least not now. More and more her thoughts were to leave Charleston, take Carolina Jane and go to Ireland where no one knew her or the circumstances of how she became a mother.

  The baby, chubby and looking sweet in her new cotton dresses designed by Nettie and sewn by Nettie’s girl students, Rose felt she had the life she always wanted. One thing she wanted for her daughter was a father. Her own father had been so important in her life. She wondered if going back to her home country would produce a worthy husband and father for her child.

  Matilda Jane would be free to continue her education without worry. And Captain Wyatt would be free from the unwarranted desire to marry her for protection. Rose began to earnestly think about leaving Charleston, South Carolina.

  Chapter 51

  When the grandfather clock struck the sixth hour, Rose got up from her bed and peeked into the cradle. The little lass, dark head thrown back, was sleeping on her side, her face a perfect profile. The heart in her chest did a little dance. She was a mother. The one who was responsible for this life that lay there so peacefully. She reached out and touched the pink cheek, full and plump now. She closed her eyes said a prayer of thanksgiving and hope that she would be a good mother.

  When she opened her eyes, she was being watched. The little fist came flying through the air and the tiny lips started to form a smile.

  “Oh you’re awake lassie. The angels must have fluttered by carrying my prayers, for here you are. Wide awake and a smile too.” She cooed at her.

  “Come on up, now.” She lifted her into her arms. “We will be about our business. It is such a hot day and I have much to do.” Rose blew strands of hair out of her face. She had learned quickly that holding and feeding an infant required two hands and other things had to be managed without the use of one or both hands. She also learned her spoon feeding was not fast enough and sped up the process.

  Carolina and Lily had taken to each other. Lily, having grown up right before her eyes, was careful and took the child and played on a pallet with her in the cooler parts of the house. Kept her entertained while Rose washed out diapers, Portia grumping that washing the family clothes was her job.

  “I want to do my part.” Rose shooed Portia away. Go on and do another task, two together will make light our work.” A quote from her mother.

  “Miz Rose, I declare you been raised in a fine Baltimore home and marry a fine man and got yerself all ‘cepted by Charleston ladies and here you is washing out ‘dem baby’s diapers. Ain’t right. Just ain’t right.”

  “Portia every mother cleans up and cares for her babies.”

  Rose saw the faraway look in Portia’s eyes. And knew she had struck some sad chord. “Have I hurt you?” she stopped scrubbing on the wash board.

  “No, honey, you didn’t hurt me none. I was just thinkin’ on how I used to wash Thomas’ and Lily’s mama’s clothes out. And now she gone out in dis world and me not knowin’ where.”

  Rose continued working, then when Portia shook the thoughts away and began to work, said, “I’m sorry Portia.”

  “You’s ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. Just now the Lord done let me know my girl, she okay. I cain’t be sittin’ round worrying. That’s sin. It is. Just plain sin. God cain’t take care o’you then ain’t no use in livin.”

  Rose smiled and hung her diapers on the line and hoped they would dry in time. She was out of them again. “What is the date today? I declare days fly by. Know I’m supposed to meet with the ladies the last Friday of the month.”

  “It be the 26h and a hot month for August. Soon enough we’ll be feeling the breezes and leaves fallen off dem trees over yonder. And all the folks be coming back from Newport, too. Streets’ll be busy and school kids be runnin’ up and down the alleys, playing. Too hot now.” She wiped her brow.

  “Oh the meeting is tomorrow at noon. I must get my thoughts ready.”

  Lily came carrying the baby on her arm.

  “Go on, Lily watch the baby. You best get your thinkin’ done afore that sun come beatin’ down on dis house.” Portia shooed her.

  “Thank you. Please make a pallet in the dining room, Lily. She loves it in there.”

  “Yes Miz rose.” Lily beamed.

  Pushing aside the drawings she had recently done of Carolina, she pulled out a folder and began reading. She was to contact the police and fire department officers and ask for donations. They had seen a lot of the troubles the citizens living in the poor districts and knew first-hand the issues they faced. Charleston had one of the largest police and fire forces along the Eastern coastal cities. And the Citidel.

  She had only to come by, for the men had taken up a collection. They had received her note of request and glad to know the old Jamison Orphanage would be torn down because it had been a fire hazard and they had already lost too many buildings to fire. They had happily offered to assist them to move out into the new facility.

  Tomorrow was the meeting.

  The next day Rose hurried above stairs taking Portia with her. “What shall I wear? I won’t be long, but I want to represent the ladies guild well.” She mused looking at dresses in her closet.

  “Here Miz Rose, wear ‘dis one. It be soft yellow and happy looking. ‘Sides all those men down there gonna be looking at you in this pretty dress and maybe empty out them pockets a bit more.” She chuckled.

  Rose laughed.

  It took a full twenty minutes for Portia to do her hair. Those red-blond ringlets were stubborn in the heat today. “That look nice now.” Portia picked and patted, her head bent at an angle. “Get that little yellow parasol and you be the sunshine in dat office down der.”

  Rose didn’t want any more fuss and made he
r way out of the house, down her wide stairs, and holding the parasol against the sun took the walkway to the station four blocks away and made her entrance.

  Immediately she noted the men’s eyes light up. Was it the yellow dress? That was strange. They tipped their hats each one and invited her to sit, even offering her a glass of lemonade to refresh herself.

  Each one was so accommodating that by the time she was ready to leave she found herself surrounded and could barely make her way to the door. Finally, she was out, on her way home, with a very generous check.

  When she arrived home she went inside, bent her ear. No baby sounds, and went upstairs to redress in her lightest cotton dress. “It was the strangest thing, Portia. The men were . . . so accommodating. It seemed they had nothing to do but stand around and talk.” She mused. “What do you think that was about? I’ve been in there before, but never noticed such behavior.”

  “You’s don’t know?” Portia was belly-laughing.

  “No” Rose straightened her back. “What is so funny?”

  “Chile you be a widow. A young, perty one. Dem young men be looking at you for to see if you’d be ready to take callers now that your husband be gone. And you know de know you a rich woman.”

  “Oh for goodness’ sake. It never occurred to me.”

  “You not like ‘at.”

  “Well, just think what they would all say if they knew I had a baby!”

  Portia finished buttoning the back of her dress and went off laughing.

  Rose found herself laughing, too, as she put the check in the desk drawer for safe-carrying to the meeting tomorrow.

  The rest of the day passed so quickly, Rose could barely believe she’d slept all night and was getting dressed to go to the Ladies Meeting. Was that normal? Time flying by just because a tiny lass came to live in the house?

  How did mothers do this with 4 and 5 children?

 
Patricia Strefling's Novels