“All right. I will wait for you, Wallace.” Then he was gone.
An hour wore past, then another. Finally the publican himself told me to either order food and drink or wait by the door. I had one look at the two women standing by the door, speaking to each man who arrived or left, and told the man I would have another beef pastry, and that Wallace would pay for it when he returned any moment. I asked him to see if Wallace’s coach still waited outside, for I might wait at his home.
“No coach,” he called from the doorway, and went back to his stew pot and kegs.
I listened as a watchman called out the hours. At midnight, the inn was empty and the publican came again, this time not so politely, saying, “Time you was making your way on the street.”
“I cannot,” I said. “I promised Mr. Spencer I would wait right here. He will return any moment. I believe I hear his horse now.”
“You has been put out. Are you blind as well as thick? And I be putting you out again. G’out there and find a brick to stand on. You be ’ant g’ang to fetch that half a crown what left earlier.”
I pulled myself up. “You shall not address me in so vulgar a manner. I am betrothed to Wallace Spencer of the Boston and Virginia Spencers.”
“I’ll address yer ladyship anyhow I be want to do. Out with you, wench.”
He raised his hand to strike me, and I took up my parcel and bundle. Wallace had put our trunks in the harbormaster’s office, but my petticoat and apron with hidden treasures I kept by my side always. Whether the man might have struck me, I would not know, but I was cast out the door into shadows and smells that turned the world back into my deepest and most hideous nightmares.
People clutching each other passed by me, the smell of drink hard on them. Where there were two men they were singing. Where there was a man and a woman, they performed coarse teasing and fondling of each other before my eyes.
At long last the watchman returned, and I called to him.
“Get off with ye!” he shouted. “I got no truck with hoors.”
“Please, sir, I beg. Find a magistrate for me. A wagoner. Or take me with you to someplace safe. I need to board the Aegean by five in the morning, there to wait for my betrothed husband.”
“Fah! Betrothed cuckled worm!” he said and held his lantern over my face.
I tried to still my fears and plead to him with my eyes. “I was to await him here where we ate supper, but he has been detained. Please help me, sir.”
“Ye ain’t a doxy. No, I can see ye ain’t. And right here? Awaiting his lordship? With no carriage or trap? What kind o’ folk are ye? Be ye fair?”
“Fair? I suppose some have called me thus.”
“And if I take ye to the ship ye’ll do mischief to her sails and her crew, and toss ’em over for changelings and selkies.”
I smiled. I knew whereof he spoke. “I meant other than what you speak, sir. I have fair hair and skin, but I hold no enchantments, only hopes. I want to get home to the island of Jamaica. My beloved promised me that I should be allowed to see her before we marry and he has arranged us both passage on the Aegean. She sails at dawn.”
“That she does. All right. Blast me but I believe ye. Follow me.”
I supposed later that I had been a fool. That this stranger could have led me anywhere he chose to be ravished and murdered in a thousand different ways. I trusted him for no reason I could name then or later and, gratefully, I ended up at the harbormaster’s office where a sleepy clerk gave me his seat. I reached into my pocket for a penny for the watchman’s effort, but he refused it.
“I still be not certain ye’re real. I will take nothing from ye, miss, which might bring me a pot o’ trouble until I can get rid of it.”
“Your kindness has saved me,” I said, and leaning toward him, I kissed his whiskery cheek.
He huffed and puffed like a teakettle, then went out the door, turning first to the right, then left, and went whistling on his way.
A hand jostled me awake, my head banging the wall behind me as I opened my eyes. “Miss? Are you boarding?”
“Yes,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Yes. Is Mr. Spencer here? We are to board the Aegean.”
“You’ll have to wait here for him, then,” the man said. “Just better stay awake.”
Five came and the sun rose at half past. Six came and I could see a great ship in its mooring, gangways crawling with men loading her as fast as any could. My heart beat the time, minutes, minutes, seconds more. The loading seemed to slow. Panic filled my soul. I took my parcels in my arms and hurried down the dock. A stern, loud-voiced man stood at the nearest gangplank, writing things on a paper held on a small wooden board. “Passenger?” he barked at me.
“Yes, sir. My name is Miss Talbot of Two Crowns Plantation, Jamaica. I am traveling escorted by Mr. Wallace Spencer.”
He looked over his papers. “Spencer? That name is removed. Talbot? No passenger by that name.”