I wasn’t ready to be weak and cry, not while Hope smiled.
“Boats, Mama. No like sea but like boats.”
Nodding, I couldn’t risk speaking. My fast-beating heart remained in my throat.
Settling, looking out the window, I watched the crowds gather for ships coming into port. Navy men crowded seaside stands. It looked like chaos. I imagined how confusing the docks might have been the day the HMSBelviderabrought in theMinerva.
Daniel leaned over and grabbed Hope. “Come on, wiggle worm.” He picked up the lignum vitae and put it in her hands. “You wish to come with us, Lady Ashbrook?”
“No. You two go. I’m a little tired.”
Daniel kissed my brow. “We won’t be long.”
With Hope secure in one arm and his blue and purple flowers in the other, he left the carriage and walked to the docks.
On my knees, I crept closer to the window and watched Daniel and Hope at the treacherous water’s edge.
They were alone. Even in this place crowded with people, they seemed distant, set apart.
His head bowed for a moment.
The wind had picked up. His tailcoat flapped.
Hope’s braids waggled. They dangled and danced in the wind.
The flowers, Mr. Anthon informed me, Daniel had picked this morning from his ironwood trees at Finchely.
My husband and daughter tossed the petals into the sea.
Hope’s head bobbled. She must be laughing. Then her arm wound back and she tossed a flower into the breeze.
They did this ritual every year, to honor Phoebe Dunn, or me, or both.
The heavy honeyed smell of lignum vitae lingered on the seat.
The sweetness, I could smell it every day. Sometimes when I closed my eyes, this familiar fragrance conjured up beaches of the whitest sand and waters bearing hues of greenish blue, crystal clear like diamonds.
It had to be my old residence, Kingston, Jamaica.
But that colony didn’t feel like home.
Nothing did, not until I found Patience’s love and the Widow’s Grace.
Now, home stood six feet away, embodied in a man casting flowers into the sea.
Home was a sentimental husband who quoted me poems.
Home held on to my child and was stronger than my doubts.
Home shouldn’t be missed anymore.
I pushed out of the carriage and ran to them. Locking my arm about Daniel’s, I rested.
With my head on his shoulder, I hoped Daniel understood I wanted to come home for good.
CHAPTER 55
DANIEL—DEFENDINGFINCHELY
