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Gold Rush Bride. Shirley KennedyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Gold Rush Bride - Shirley Kennedy


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do that.” Elfreda left without another word, leaving Letty in a quandary. What was she going to do? She couldn’t go unless she had a maid, but not their horrid, unpleasant cook.

      Chapter 5

      Seagulls soared over Boston Harbor. A ribbon of steam rose from the funnels of the steamship, Mirabello, as it lay alongside the pier. Passengers milled about the dock while workers loaded luggage and supplies into nets. Large cranes swung them up, over the deck and into the hold. For Letty, this past week had been a whirlwind of packing, last minute arrangements and saying good-bye to friends. There’d been no time to reflect upon the doubts and dangers of this unforeseen journey and how it would forever change her well-ordered life. The time had come, and here she was, standing on the dock, surrounded by friends and family saying their last good-byes, wondering, is this really happening?

      Mr. Cannon, her choir director stepped up. “We shall all miss you, Letty.” Impulsively he gave her a hug. “Take care of that beautiful voice and do come back. Your place in the choir will be waiting for you.”

      Mother was frowning. “I still don’t think you’ll be warm enough.” She’d been fussing all week, coming up with one worry after another.

      “I’ll be fine. We’ve packed plenty of blankets.” Steerage passengers must provide their own bedding. Letty had argued with her mother about how many blankets to bring. “Don’t forget we’ll be sailing south. By the time we get to Panama, it’ll be steaming hot.”

      Mother finally gave in, agreeing to two blankets for Letty and two for…

      Elfreda.

      Dear Lord, she could hardly believe it. She’d done her best to find a maid, but no young woman she interviewed was willing to head into the dangerous unknown to a place she’d never heard of. Mother held firm. “If you don’t have a maid, you can’t go.” So Elfreda it was, God help her, and she’d just have to make the best of it.

      William had wandered off to talk to one of the ship’s officers and now returned, eager and bright eyed, bursting with information. “The Mirabello is over two-hundred foot long. Imagine, Letty, the paddlewheels on the sides are twenty-six feet in diameter and make thirteen revolutions in a minute.”

      “That’s wonderful, William.” The last thing on her mind was paddlewheel revolutions. Had she made a mistake? Maybe Mr. Winslow was right when he said she was too delicate and well brought up for a journey such as this. A sudden panic swept through her. How could she leave everything she’d ever known behind? Take a journey fraught with peril and maybe never come home? She wasn’t on the ship yet. She could simply say she’d changed her mind and head for home. No, she couldn’t. What was she thinking? This was for Charles. This was for her family. She laughed to herself and kept on smiling. No way would she back out now. “This is all so exciting. I can hardly wait to see our accommodations.”

      Millicent frowned. Like Mother, she, too, had fretted and worried over Letty’s making such a journey. “I’ve heard bad things about steerage.”

      “Not at all. Mr. Massey said we’d have a semi-private cabin. How bad can it be?”

      A tall, thin man strode down the gangplank, obviously a ship’s officer in his dark blue frock coat with gold buttons down the front. He climbed onto a box and began yelling through a megaphone. “First- and second-class passengers will board now. Steerage passengers will wait.” He flashed a smile at those beginning to board. “I’m Joshua Bibb, your purser, here to serve you and make your journey as comfortable and enjoyable as possible.” He turned to where the steerage passengers had been told to gather. The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown of disapproval. “You passengers in steerage will wait until everyone else is on board. You will go straight down to the steerage area. No wandering around the ship, is that clear?” Not waiting for questions, he climbed down and disappeared up the crew’s gangplank.

      Millicent frowned. “I don’t like that man’s attitude. It doesn’t bode well for you, Letty.”

      “Don’t be silly.” She didn’t like it either. “Elfreda and I will be fine.” She looked to where her ill-humored servant stood guarding their luggage. “I hope you’re not worried.”

      Elfreda threw her a withering stare. “I don’t worry about anything, Miss Letty.”

      Oh, Lord, why did she even bother to ask?

      At last, the time came to board. Those in steerage were required to carry their own luggage, so both Letty and Elfreda walked up the gangplank carrying big canvas bags, valises and bundles of bedding. As ordered by Mr. Bibbs, they headed straight to steerage, which she soon discovered was another name for the dark, dank bowels of the ship.

      “This is a semi-private room?” Letty, followed by Elfreda, had climbed down two steep flights of stairs, not easy, the way they were burdened with luggage. A fetid smell invaded her nostrils as they made their way to the forward part of the ship. She could hardly see in the dim light and had to crouch because the ceiling was so low. They finally reached an area close to the bow lined with bunks on each side. A crude wooden table sat in the middle with a lantern hanging overhead.

      Several women had arrived ahead of them, and were occupied claiming the bunks and unloading luggage. A pretty girl of around eighteen with long black hair and blue eyes heard Letty’s remark and burst into bubbling laughter. “If you call a room with all these bunks semi-private, then that’s what it is.”

      Letty’s heart sank as she looked around. Made of rough wood, the bunks had only the thinnest of straw mattresses that didn’t look all that clean. What looked like a storage area lay beyond. It was filling up fast with trunks and suitcases. The only light came from the one lamp and two small, round windows. “Ports” she supposed they were called. She turned to Elfreda. “Where do you suppose the bathroom is?”

      The dark-haired girl laughed again. “There’s a bathroom of sorts, but it’s at the other end where the men are. We women will have to use chamber pots.”

      Oh, dear God. This was horrible. She should have spent the money and gone at least second class, but too late now. Above all, she mustn’t show her disappointment. She put a smile on her face and pointed to a lower bunk. “I’ll take this one, Elfreda. Why don’t you take the one above? This isn’t too bad, do you think?”

      Her maid didn’t speak, but the look she gave Letty contained a combination of disgust, aversion, and how-could-you-have-been-so-stupid?

      Letty had pictured herself at the railing when the ship pulled away from the dock. She’d be tossing kisses, waving a genial farewell to the cheering crowd below, but that didn’t happen. All steerage passengers remained in the crowded bowels of the ship as a steady thump-thump of the paddlewheels began. Minutes later, a gentle rocking announced the ship was underway. Letty made up her bed, not waiting for Elfreda to do it. From now on, she’d do as much as she could by herself. Curious to know what had brought them here, she started talking to the other passengers. Several women had husbands aboard, but because there were no accommodations in steerage for married couples, they must travel separately. Some women were maids whose employers, ensconced in first class, considered steerage good enough for their servants.

      The dark-haired girl with the bubbling laugh was one of those. “The name’s Betsey Higgins. I work for Colonel Connors and his wife.” She jerked a thumb upwards. “They’re upstairs.”

      “You don’t say ‘upstairs’ on a boat,” someone said.

      “‘Above’ then? Who cares?” Betsey broke into her merry laugh, not at all daunted by the horrors of steerage. She pointed to a chubby, brown-haired woman of about twenty-five. “This is my friend, Mary Hawes. She works for Mrs. Honoria Leffington, who’s also upstairs, I mean above, in first class.” She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “A mean, nasty woman if ever there was one.”

      Mary Hawes spoke up. “That’s not nice, Betsey.”

      Letty could tell the plain-faced


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