“Soon?” Lorena’s spirit grew troubled, just as it had when she first learned of George’s plans. Now that the war was over, the young, gifted shipwright had secured employment in Whitby of North Yorkshire, along the banks of the River Esk, working for Turnbull’s shipyard. Turnbull’s was an old, established yard, where the Discovery, one of the ships on Captain Cook’s last voyage, had been built in 1774. Whitby ships were heralded throughout England, and for a generous salary George had agreed to share with British shipbuilders the secrets of excellence in American-made sailing vessels.
He nodded. “I have found a merchantman bound for England, the Lady Julia harbored in Plymouth. She shall sail just as quickly as her hold can be filled with cargo. I will need to check with her master daily to know exactly when that date shall be. I’ve informed your father, and he’s told me again he is sorry to see me go. He says I have a fine future in store and asked me to reconsider and make that future here.”
Lorena agreed. “You’d be wise to listen to Papa. No one knows more about shipbuilding than he. He’s done you a great service in handing down his trade secrets and skills to you. He’s treated you kindly as a man would his own son.”
His face reddened. “Am I to be chastised for ambition and a desire to procure a better life for myself than what can be had in this simple New England town? I have given my best to your father.”
“True. And yet, George, ‘Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord pondereth the hearts.’ No matter how hard we might try, sometimes the right path eludes us. But if our hearts are turned toward God, He will make that way clear. I know you desire to seek your fortune, but I promise you, God can deliver your riches to Duxboro as well as to England.”
“I am sorry, Lorena, my mind is set. But it is not too late to change yours.” Taking hold of both her hands, George lifted one to kiss her knuckles. “You are of an age when it is expected you should leave the nest to start a family of your own. But you allow your attachment to Duxboro and the responsibility you feel toward your father and another’s child to keep you from me and the life we could share together. You know what I’m capable of. You know I settle for nothing less than the highest achievement in everything I put my mind to. There is nothing I could not give you. I would lay the world at your feet. If only you’d open your heart to me. Tell me you’ve reconsidered and will sail to North Yorkshire as my wife?”
Lorena’s breath caught. George frightened her with his insistence on a marriage between them. She took insult at his ridiculous arrogance that he could continue to press his suit after she’d explained the deep emotion that accompanies marriage she had not to give him.
But George could not accept defeat. He’d learned early to make his own way. He’d grown so self-reliant, he trusted only in himself and his abilities, not in God . . . or love . . . or friendship. Lorena felt sorry for him. He had not always been that way.
His parents, being too poor to bear the burden of another mouth to feed, had indentured him as an apprentice to learn the craft of shipbuilding. Lorena had welcomed him as an equal, careful to show no notice of his thin and tattered appearance. She encouraged him, as George trained hard at her father’s craft, from hauling buckets of oakum and learning how to wield an adze, to understanding the four key aspects comprising a ship’s plan and then practicing them for hours in his sketches. When it was discovered he had an uncommon genius for ship design and mathematics, George worked diligently to achieve the title of master shipwright he held today.
Today he was honored and revered, impeccable in his image and manner. A perfectionist. Cold.
If she had to repeat it a thousand times, she would remain compassionate, but she must be truthful. Lorena knew she must be fair.
“You shall always have my friendship, George, but my feelings do not rise above that. You’ve never hidden the fact you resent my devotion to Papa and Drew, but you fully expect that I should abandon them and transfer this same devotion to you. I forgive you your jealousy, because I know you did not have the good fortune to be born into such a loving home.”
George pierced her with an indignant glare and promptly dropped her hands. “You forgive me?” he squawked. “Forgive me for offering you marriage!”
Lorena stared him full in the face and narrowed her gaze at the obstinate set of his chin. “You can’t understand, can you, George? My world is here in Duxboro. And each day that passes I grow wearier in the hope you’ll realize that loyalty to those who call you friend is more precious than any amount of financial gain.”
Neither her father nor any of his workmen or even George’s closest friend, Edward, knew the truth behind George’s accepting employment in North Yorkshire. What havoc might be caused if they did. They believed he desired to join a brother of his in England, which was, in a measure, correct. George had confessed all to Lorena in confidence, hoping to impress her with his ambitious plan.