Free Boston Jane by Jennifer L. Holm Page B

Mary’s mouth while she observed us through slit eyes. The cabin was as silent as our parlor when I was a young girl and practicing listening well. Miss Hepplewhite always said that it was a lady’s obligation to encourage good conversation when in polite company, but I was having a difficult time considering Jehu polite company, for all that he had brought the broth. Moreover, I could not help feeling conscious of my ankles. Even William had never seen my stocking-covered ankles!
    At last I spoke. “Where did you learn to cook?”
    He shrugged. “On ships, I suppose. Been at sea since I was Samuel’s age. If you want something good to eat, you best make it yourself. First lesson I learned.”
    “Oh.”
    He looked at me. “And you? Are you a good cook?”
    I hesitated, and then shook my head. “We always had Mrs. Parker.”
    He nodded. Was that a flicker of disappointment in his eyes?
    “And of course Mary is a very fine cook,” I said quickly. “She is planning to open a boardinghouse and make her fortune when we reach the frontier. Aren’t you, Mary?”
    Mary made a small sound.
    “So, Miss Peck, how will you spend your days on the frontier if you won’t be cooking?” he asked.
    I bit my lip, momentarily perplexed. “I suppose I’ll embroider.”
    “Embroider, eh?” He looked at Mary dubiously.
    “Yes, embroider,” I said firmly.
    “There’s a big demand for needlepoint cushions on thefrontier, then, is there?” Now there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. Amusement?
    From her bunk Mary chuckled quietly. She was most certainly feeling better.
    Jehu took a deep breath and stood up. “Well, Miss Peck, if you want my advice, you might want to ask Mary here for some tips on cooking and the like.”
    I shrugged as if unconcerned. “I’m sure William has already employed a maid and a cook for us.”
    Jehu squinted at the two of us. “For your sake, I hope so.”
    Although Mary was better, she was still weak. Not long after Jehu left, she was snoring lightly, so I took the opportunity to undo my braid and give my hair a good brushing. I was working on a particularly frustrating snarl when Jehu banged on the door and barged into our cabin for the second time that evening.
    Jehu stared at my hair tumbling loose around my shoulders, a strange expression on his face. It was most improper for a man to see a young lady with her hair unbound, almost as bad as seeing her bare ankles.
    “Do you never knock?” I demanded.
    “You should try rum.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “New England rum. It’s good for the tangles.”
    I felt myself go red. “Was there something you required?” I asked stiffly.
    Jehu remembered himself. “We’re sailing straight into a storm. Batten down everything and stay below decks.” And then he disappeared as quickly as he had come.
    In short order the ship began rocking wildly, and we were soon joined by Father Joseph and Sturgis. It seemed that their cabin was taking in water.
    The wind rose to a keening howl, and the
Lady Luck
began careening with frightful violence, side to side and up and down. The screeching wind drowned out the shouts of the sailors above deck. The lantern swung wildly as the ship tilted to and fro, casting fearful shadows in the small cabin.
    Mary was pale as a wraith, and Father Joseph’s eyebrows twitched madly as he clutched the table with real terror. Only Sturgis was unaffected by the rough seas, no doubt because of all the whiskey in his belly.
    “This is a witch of a storm all right,” Sturgis slurred, slumped in a corner, nursing his bottle.
    “Jane my girl,” Mary croaked weakly. “Do ya think we’ll make it to this blessed Shoalwater Bay?”
    A true lady is ever cheerful
.
    “Yes, of course,” I said brightly, although fear was racing up and down my spine.
    Then, without warning, something smashed into the ship with such force that I went tumbling from my chair onto the floor. It felt like a whale or some huge sea monster