Until now.
Now, Eleanor would be alone.
As the baby cried, Eleanor walked to the end of the hall, wiping at her tears. She took the ladder leading to the hold, where most of the colonists shared a communal space. The sounds here were much different than they were in Eleanor’s cabin. Laughter, conversation, children’s voices, and more filled the small space. The sky was dark, but the evening was still young. Most sat around with dried biscuits and ale in hand, eating while they visited in Gaelic, a tongue Eleanor struggled to understand.
Her presence was hardly noticed.
At first, it was a child who saw her descend the ladder. The little one tugged on her mother’s skirt and the woman looked up at Eleanor in surprise.
“Ach, now, lass, what have we here?” She was a large woman with a wide, kind face. Two small children held on to her skirts while a baby was nestled in the crook of her arm. The woman moved as if the children were an extension of herself. “What brings you down to us?”
“This child.” Eleanor held the baby close, her voice small. “Her mother has died.” She could hardly acknowledge the truth.
Several others took notice of Eleanor, and a hush fell over the group. Reverend West was a well-respected man, and his wife even more so.
“What a pity it is.” The woman clicked her tongue. “Mrs. West was a kindly soul.”
Eleanor had been raised in a beautiful manor house, tucked deep into the woods in Northumberland. She had not known a day of want or care until her father’s scandal, three years ago. But since then, she’d been forced to fight for what she needed—and right now, she needed a wet nurse.
“Is there someone who could help?” Eleanor drew closer to the woman and lowered her voice, not wanting the others to hear her speak about such a delicate subject. “Is there a wet nurse available?”
The woman looked around her at the ladies who had kept their distance. None would even acknowledge Lady Eleanor. If they didn’t help, who would?
“I do not have much to offer,” Eleanor said, “but what I have, I will freely give. This child needs nourishment—”
“I’ll help,” the woman said, lifting her chin. “It would be an honor to help the good minister in his time of need.”
Eleanor briefly closed her eyes in relief. “Thank you. I’m certain we can compensate you—”
“Ach, and why should you? I’m happy to help.” The lady laid her sleeping child on a narrow berth nearby and turned back to Eleanor. “My name is Fiona Ferguson. My husband is Angus.” She nodded at a burly fellow in the center of one of the groups of men. He doffed his cap, revealing a shock of blond hair.
“I’m very grateful,” Eleanor said as she nodded at Mr. Ferguson and then his wife.
Fiona extended her hands and took the small baby from Eleanor. “What a wee bairn. So small.”
“I’m afraid she came early.” Eleanor’s arms felt empty after she handed over the baby.
“And her name?”
Eleanor shook her head. “She doesn’t have one yet.”
“It matters little at this point.” Mrs. Ferguson held the baby as naturally as she’d held her own child, swaying gently in a time-worn manner. “I’ll return her to you when she’s had something to eat.”
“Thank you.” Eleanor spoke to Mrs. Ferguson, but her gratefulness went heavenward, as well.
“Go on now and help the minister,” Mrs. Ferguson said to Eleanor. “I’m sure he’ll need your assistance preparing the body.”
Dread rippled over Eleanor as the full weight of the situation fell upon her. She nodded mutely as she lifted the hem of her skirt and climbed the ladder to the hall above, her arms and heart weak with grief. For several minutes, she just stood in the inky darkness and forced herself to breathe.
Mr. and Mrs. West were not only her friends, but also her chaperones on this journey—and it was not yet half done. The only reason Lord and Lady Selkirk had agreed to let Eleanor join the colonists in Red River was because she would be traveling with the minister and his wife. Eleanor had shared a cabin with Anne while Mr. West had bunked with the bachelors in another room. With Anne gone, what would happen now?
The air in the hall felt suffocating and unyielding. Without giving it a second thought, Eleanor walked to the opposite end and climbed the steps. She pushed open the door and stepped onto the deck.
Immediately, the cold air sliced through her, filling her lungs with life. She took a deep breath—and then her lips parted in surprise and the air came out in a gasp.
To her right, in all their magnificent splendor, blazed the aurora borealis. The green and purple lights were bright and glorious against the crisp night sky.
ThePrince of Walesglided silently through Hudson Strait as Eleanor stepped away from the door and crossed the deck. Oneither side of the ship, tall bluffs reached toward the sky in stark grandeur as the aurora borealis danced and shifted behind one of the bluffs. She’d heard of this celebrated wonder but had not expected something so breathtaking.
