His Perfect Bride (Bride Ships: New Voyages #3)

Chapter 1

One

Manchester, England

May 1863

S he had to find a way to help her family.

Sage Rhodes stepped carefully through the muddy street in front of the Manchester City Mission and glanced at the square of tattered paper in her hand. The short list of charities was growing even shorter.

“Two left out of the five,” she whispered. “Only one after the City Mission.”

She was running out of options.

The familiar clench of desperation wrapped around her empty stomach.

She stuffed the paper back into her skirt pocket and pulled in a breath of air to fortify herself for the humiliating task of asking for help.

The May morning air was damp with the spring rains that were nearly constant. Dark clouds sagged with moisture, and sooty coal smoke poured from towering chimneys rising into the skyline for as far as the eye could see…Hundreds of plumes of black smoke from hundreds of chimneys from the hundreds of factories.

If only those hundreds of factories were filled with the usual workers. Last year, as a result of the war in the United States, the cotton imports from Southern states had come to a standstill, and most textile mills in Manchester had closed.

Some were beginning to hire back employees. But too many people—especially women and children—remained jobless, including her. Even though her dad had been among those rehired, his hours as a mule spinner were sparse and sporadic. He only made enough to keep the family from being evicted from their one-room flat. They were constantly hungry and cold. Their garments were turning into rags. And they were restless with so little to occupy their time.

To make matters worse, Dad’s health was rapidly declining. Ever since he’d resumed his position, his white lung disease had returned with a vengeance. His barking cough wracked his body, keeping him awake at night so that he was exhausted all the time.

As Sage made her way up the front stoop of City Mission, she stuffed her list of charities deeper into her pocket. She tapped the mud off her clogs then straightened her shoulders. She’d never thought she’d resort to begging, but she would do whatever she had to for her family.

The three-story building was tucked between a bathhouse and a women’s boardinghouse. Even though the red bricks were darkened from coal dust, the place was well-kept, and the area was safe and mostly clean, absent of the squalor of the crowded slums where she lived with her dad and three younger sisters.

She opened the door and stepped into a large front room that was busy with women—probably volunteers. One group seemed to be organizing clothing donations. A couple of others were studying a map and list of names, likely making plans for how to spread charity and the gospel to as many poor and hopeless people as possible.

At Sage’s appearance, every person paused in their conversations and swiveled to look at her—with kind eyes, to be sure. Each of the charities she’d visited so far had been staffed by sympathetic people who’d offered her suggestions. But none had been able to give her what she really needed—passage for her and her family to Vancouver Island.

She smoothed a gloved hand down her dark gray wool cloak before untying the headscarf knot underneath her chin. She slipped off the threadbare covering, hoping that without it she appeared older and more capable than her nineteen years.

She’d taken the time to coil her reddish-blond hair into an elegant chignon, and she’d worn her Sunday best—a simple blue skirt and a white blouse. Both were frayed and thin. But she’d disguised the worn hems with lace she’d taken from the curtains.

She knew she was considered pretty with her fair hair, unblemished skin, and blue eyes. Her heart-shaped face, dainty chin, and high cheekbones were all family traits and added to her beauty. Today, she had to use every single asset to her advantage, even her looks.

“May we help you, dear?” A middle-aged matron stepped away from the map. Her milky white hair framed a pleasantly plump face. With spectacles perched upon her nose, her eyes were as round as bobbins. She was attired in a modest gown that set her apart from the working class but wasn’t so elaborate as to put her in the aristocracy.

Sage lifted her lips into a practiced smile—one she’d tried to perfect that showed her to be an upright and respected woman. After all, most charities made a distinction between the worthy and unworthy poor—those who’d fallen into hard times versus the shiftless, lazy, and drunkards.

She was praying she would get a better reception and more assistance if she proved beyond a doubt that she was the former—a woman of stellar repute who’d simply experienced the hardships of the recent economy.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Sage spoke as calmly and as politely as possible, trying to sound cultured and not like a poor mill worker. “I was hoping someone here might have information on any emigration opportunities.”

“Emigration?” The hesitancy in the woman’s question told Sage that she wouldn’t have any more success here at the Manchester City Mission than she’d had at the other agencies she’d already visited.

Still, she had to try. “Yes, my sister was one of the women recruited last autumn by Miss Rye to travel to Vancouver Island.”

Sage hadn’t received any letters from her older sister since she’d left in September on the Robert Lowe . With every passing day without word from Willow, Sage was growing more and more convinced that she had to take matters into her own hands, which was what she’d finally done yesterday when she’d made the list of local charities to visit about the possibility of emigrating.

The woman nodded. “Ah, yes. Miss Rye and her Female Middle Class Emigration Society.”

Sage didn’t know anything about a Female Middle Class Emigration Society. All she knew was that Miss Rye had overseen two emigration opportunities to the Pacific Northwest last year for single women. The ships had been called bride ships because the women were expected to go and find husbands in the English colony where there was an overpopulation of unmarried men in need of wives.

Sage wasn’t interested in finding a husband, not when she was still reeling from the broken engagement with David just a few months ago. Even so, she was more than willing to endure sailing on a bride ship with her sisters if it took them to Vancouver Island and to Willow.

She kept her practiced smile in place. “Do you know if Miss Rye is planning to recruit more women for another bride ship?”

The middle-aged matron glanced at her companion who was taller than most women by a hand’s span. She had thick dark brown hair that was smoothed back into a tight knot, causing her sharply pointed features to look severe. Her gown, while fashionable and a pretty rose color, did nothing to flatter her, making her look flat-chested and overly thin. The woman wasn’t youthful, but she also didn’t have any signs of age. Perhaps she was in her thirties.

“Miss Lennox is visiting from London,” the matron said with a nod to the tall woman. “She may be familiar with Miss Rye’s current plans.”

“Certainly.” Miss Lennox set her map down. “I am indeed in several organizations with Miss Rye.”

At last. Sage released an inward sigh at discovering someone who knew about Miss Rye. Surely now she would make more progress in learning when the next group of women would be leaving.

Hopefully by the time the ship set sail, her family would have the first letter from Willow with some money that would allow Dad to accompany them as a paying passenger in steerage. If not when they left, then a letter would arrive soon after their departure, and he could follow them to the new world.

Sage gave a small curtsy to Miss Lennox. “Could you please tell me when Miss Rye plans to send another bride ship?”

Miss Lennox swept her gaze over Sage, as if she were personally assessing Sage’s worthiness of joining the endeavor. “I regret that I do not have such information.”

Sage curbed her disappointment. “I see.”

“However, I can tell you Miss Rye is currently accompanying a ship of women bound for New Zealand.”

That news was even worse. Miss Rye would be unavailable for months. “Is someone taking her place in organizing other voyages?”

“The committee is weighing the cost of the ventures and has found them particularly taxing. I would not be surprised if they decide against any future trips.”

Sage’s heart sank. She’d tried to warn herself that another ship may have already sailed, or that Miss Rye would seek out candidates from a different area to give other women a chance at emigration. But she hadn’t expected that the efforts to send women to the colony would end altogether.

“I’m sorry to hear such news.” Regardless, Sage had to persist with her efforts at finding help with emigration, with or without Miss Rye’s bride ships. “Would the City Mission be willing to sponsor a few women who would like to emigrate?”

This time the matronly woman with the spectacles answered. “I’m afraid that’s outside our scope of what we’re capable of doing here at the mission.”

“I understand.” Sage wasn’t surprised by the rejection. She’d heard the same thing from the three other charities. “Do you know of any other organizations who might be sending women?”

Everyone was quiet, so much so that Sage could hear the patter of a fresh rain shower on the two front windows. The others in the room had resumed their work but were casting curious looks toward Sage, obviously still listening to the conversation.

The matronly woman’s eyes behind her spectacles remained wide and kind, but it was clear from her expression that she had no suggestions for Sage.

Miss Lennox, however, blinked several times before nodding. “Another organization in London is considering sending women to Australia. If you’d like me to pass along your name?—”

“I couldn’t go to Australia.”

“Of all the places I’ve traveled, Australia is one of the loveliest.”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am. It’s a kind suggestion. However, my sister already lives on Vancouver Island, and I would like to be near her in Victoria.”

“Vancouver Island? Victoria?” Miss Lennox cocked her head with a glimmer of interest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Miss Lennox leaned in and whispered something to the matronly woman. The two conversed in low tones for a moment before Miss Lennox narrowed her gaze upon Sage. “Do you have any experience as a maidservant?”

For a fraction of a second Sage considered fibbing. But no, she couldn’t. She would strive as always to do what was right. “I’ve only worked in the mills, ma’am. But I am a fast learner. I would have no trouble learning the duties of a maid.”

Domestic servants were needed in the colony. At least that was what Miss Rye had told the bride-ship women leaving on the Robert Lowe . No doubt Willow had found a position as a maid in a wealthy home in Victoria, and Sage would gladly do the same.

“Your sewing skills, Miss?—?”

“Rhodes. Sage Rhodes.”

“How proficient are you at mending and altering, Miss Rhodes?”

“Quite good. I have a steady hand and perfect stitches.”

For several minutes, Miss Lennox asked more questions about Sage’s skills, education, family, daily habits, and even religious beliefs. Sage guessed Willow had probably been asked such questions too, before being accepted by Miss Rye as one of the bride-ship candidates.

Finally, after Miss Lennox reached the end of her inquisition, she pressed her thin lips together, the tightness making her look even more severe. “My brother lives in Victoria and is getting married in October. I am leaving next week for Vancouver Island to attend the wedding.”

“That sounds wonderful. I wish you safe travels.” If only she had the means to travel wherever she wanted in the same manner.

Miss Lennox straightened her thin shoulders, looking almost regal. “My father and mother have always insisted I take a lady’s maid on my travels.”

The rushing of Sage’s thoughts sputtered to a halt. Was this woman insinuating that she go along?

Miss Lennox nodded as though answering Sage’s unasked question. “I have thus far insisted on going alone for this particular trip, since I am uncertain if I shall return or stay in the colony.” She paused and looked pointedly at Sage, as though expecting a comment.

Sage scrambled to find a polite answer. “I’m sure you find yourself in a dilemma, ma’am.”

“Indeed I am, as I love my parents dearly and have no wish to disappoint them. I also do not desire to inconvenience my lady’s maid with my indecisiveness.”

“Of course not.”

“Then it appears we are in agreement.”

They were? “Ma’am?”

“I shall hire you as my lady’s maid for this voyage and for the duration of my stay in Victoria. When—if—I decide to return to London or continue my journey elsewhere, then I shall give you the freedom to remain in the colony and find other employment.”

Sage’s mind whirled. The offer to be a lady’s maid was a really good one, especially for an unskilled and inexperienced woman like her. Such a position often required specialized training, apprenticeships, and working in other household positions first. Surely there were qualified women who would be thrilled to become Miss Lennox’s lady’s maid, even if she was indecisive about her destination.

Furthermore, Sage couldn’t possibly leave her sisters or dad. They needed her, didn’t they?

“Of course I shall give you a fair monthly wage.” Miss Lennox paused and glanced at the ceiling as though calculating numbers in her head. “Shall we say three pounds a month? Thirty-six pounds for the first year.”

Sage bit back a gasp. It was as much, if not more, than her dad made, especially now with the reduced wages, and it was unheard of for a woman like her who had no training or experience.

“Does that sound agreeable?” Miss Lennox was watching her carefully, likely gauging her reaction.

“It is more than agreeable, ma’am.” Sage couldn’t deny she was interested. But she forced herself to remain calm and to think logically about the possibility.

The fact was, ever since Mum’s death last winter, Sage’s carefully crafted world had begun to unravel. No matter what she did or how hard she tried, she couldn’t weave her neat and tidy life back together. It just kept unwinding so that she was left with a tangled heap.

She was more than ready to leave the messes behind and start over some place new.

“But…?” Miss Lennox asked.

“But I do have my three younger sisters and was hoping to bring them with me.” Truthfully, they were old enough to take care of themselves. Briar was almost eighteen, Fern sixteen, and Clover fourteen. Even if Fern had started mingling with the wrong man and the wrong crowd recently, Briar was responsible enough to manage both Fern and Clover.

Miss Lennox’s brow creased. “I regret that I cannot offer each of them passage as well, Miss Rhodes. But it’s simply not feasible at the present.”

“I understand?—”

“Why not take some time to think on my offer. I shall finish with my charity work here tomorrow and leave by rail for London the day after. If you decide to accept the position, please let me know.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Miss Lennox nodded then picked up the discarded map and the list and began studying both again.

Sage didn’t have to be told she was being dismissed. She could see that easily enough. With a final curtsy, she exited the mission and wrapped her scarf back over her head. The rain was still falling, forcing her to also don the hood of her cloak as she huddled deeper into the woolen garment.

She fingered the square of paper in her pocket. She had one final charity to visit. But what hope did she have that the place would have any emigration opportunities when no one else did? The trip would be futile, and there was no sense wasting time with the visit. Her best option was to consider Miss Lennox’s proposition.

She hastened through the narrow lanes until she turned onto Market Street, where the stench of the livestock greeted her as did the calls of the merchants bargaining with customers. She fingered a second list in her pocket, the one with the few meager food items she needed to purchase. She didn’t really need to write out the list—not when she bought the same bread, cheese, and fish with nearly every trip.

But she liked writing lists. It was one small way to keep order in her world when everything else was falling apart and when she’d already lost so much—her employment, Willow, Mum, and David.

David.

Her heart pinched with the need for him—a need she no longer had a right to feel, not when he belonged to Bessy and was getting married soon. In fact, he was getting married on Ascension Day.

That was just a few short days away.

The pain inside swelled forcefully, bringing Sage to a halt in the flow of shoppers in the storefront markets.

What had she done wrong to lose him?

Even after analyzing their relationship for weeks, she still hadn’t been able to figure out her shortcomings that had driven him into the arms of another woman. She’d loved him and had tried to be the perfect fiancée. She’d been supportive and respectful and agreeable, had even delayed their wedding day because he’d said he wasn’t ready.

As hard as the truth was, she couldn’t deny it. After two years of courtship, he just hadn’t been ready for her —not when he’d been willing to get married to Bessy so quickly after he broke off the engagement.

Sage glanced around, praying she wouldn’t see Bessy anywhere. Since they lived in the same neighborhood and went to the same church and had the same friends, Sage often saw the pretty woman. If that wasn’t bad enough, it was even worse when she saw Bessy with David. She could only imagine how much more difficult seeing the two would be after they were married.

“No.” The whisper came out harshly.

She couldn’t live that way, constantly being reminded that the man and the life that should have been hers belonged to someone else.

The desperation from earlier rose to choke her. She had to get away from Manchester. She couldn’t stay another week, couldn’t bear to be here another day.

She spun around and began to stride back the way she’d just trekked. The muddy street squelched beneath her clogs, splattering her skirt in her haste. For once she didn’t care. All she could think about was the need to start a life someplace new—someplace far from David.

She was practically running by the time she reached the front door of Manchester City Mission. Without a moment of hesitation, she opened the door and stepped inside.

“I’ll do it.” She locked in on Miss Lennox. “I’ll take the position as your lady’s maid.”