Chapter I
I
Her feelings were all wrong. Bess knew that – and wished she could will herself to feel what she should.
Excitement, pride… love. She was marrying one of the wealthiest men in Cornwall.
The most eligible bachelor. And although it had all been arranged through their fathers by letter and she had never laid eyes on the man, her mother had assured her that all would be well.
Bess was beautiful, sweet, and kind. She was accomplished on the pianoforte, and her sketches of birds, flowers, and landscapes were praised by her drawing master.
She was fluent in French and a graceful dancer.
More importantly, although she’d been born and raised in London, she came from a Cornish family of noble blood.
Her new husband could not help but love her. Her qualities would see her through.
Her maid, Lily, entered the room with a tray, setting it on a table near the window. She poured Bess a cup of tea and closed the lid on her packed trunk. ‘When you’re finished, miss,’ she said, ‘I’ll send the boy up to get your things loaded onto the ship.’
The ship. Bess’s heart seized at the thought.
She had seen ships, of course; their Chelsea townhouse was not far from the River Thames with all its water traffic.
She went to the table and glanced down at the map.
Cornwall didn’t look far – she had questioned her father as to why she couldn’t travel there overland.
His answer had only strengthened her misgivings and made her feel as if she was traveling to a foreign country.
The journey by land was long and arduous.
The roads in the West Country were of no fit state.
Going by sea was better, faster. Lily and a footman would accompany her, and prior to her marriage, she would stay with her aged aunt at Polgothley, the family estate.
All in all, she would be quite safe, and wouldn’t she enjoy having an adventure?
Perhaps she would if she knew she’d be coming home at the end of it.
But she was not. A long sea voyage followed by marriage to a man she had never met.
The very idea of boarding that ship – the vessel would surely hold her doom.
Her breath grew shallow and her hand shook as she lifted the cup to her mouth, tea splashing onto the saucer.
The young maid looked on, concerned. ‘Are you not well, miss?’
‘I’m fine, Lily. Thank you.’ She forced herself to smile. Her mother always said that there was little that couldn’t be put right by a cup of tea. But as Bess choked down the brown liquid that gave no comfort, she knew her mother was wrong.