could scarcely abide the prospect of another hour confined aboard ship, let alone days or weeks. She could not return to England and face Mrs. Beamish with her mission unfulfilled. And what manner of welcome were they likely to receive in another colony, having been turned away from the shores of Nova Scotia?
“You cannot do this to me!” she cried. No man since her father had provoked her to such a rage.
“Not only can I, madam. For the good of this colony, I must.” He headed out of the room, calling for his aide.
Jocelyn nearly overturned the tea table in her haste to catch him.
“Have you forgotten?” She clutched the sleeve of his coat. “I challenged you to a duel. Are you such a coward that you would bundle me out of town before I can defend my honor?”
He stared down at her with undisguised aversion. “Madam, I have no intention of fighting a duel with anyone, least of all a woman. I made a mistake—a perfectly natural one under the circumstances, I believe. But I am willing to apologize for it in public. I will put a notice to that effect in the Halifax Gazette if you wish.”
He turned to his aide, who had just arrived. “Remind me of that, will you, Duckworth? But, first, I would like you to escort Mrs. Finch back to her ship.”
The governor detached her hand from his sleeve, then executed a curt bow. “I wish you a safe journey, madam.”
Before Jocelyn could protest further, he strode from the drawing room.
With a strangled shriek, she lunged for the tea tray and scooped up the blueberry jam pot, determined to hurl it at the governor’s pristine marble hearth…for lack of a more deserving target.
Mr. Duckworth stepped in front of her. “Please don’t, ma’am. It’ll make the most frightful mess.”
That was what she wanted. To leave His Excellency with a vivid purple stain to remember her by!
His aide’s plea stayed her hand. After all, the governor himself would not be obliged to clean up the mess.
She held the jam pot out to Mr. Duckworth. “I pity you with all my heart, sir, having to work for such a tyrant.”
The young man relieved her of the crock before he replied, “There is no man in the colony I’d rather serve, ma’am.”
Poor young fool, Jocelyn thought as she permitted him to escort her out of Government House and down toward the wharf. Every step of the way, she struggled to invent an excuse that would prevent her from getting back on that ship. Once aboard, she was certain Governor Kerr would never permit her to set foot off it again. How could she hope to plead her case if she could not communicate with anyone in town?
As they caught sight of the wharf, Mr. Duckworth sighed. “Not another crowd gathered? I hope we shan’t need to call out the militia to disperse these people.”
The nearer they drew, the more evident it became that these curious onlookers were different from the first group. For they were mostly women.
A number stood around the wharf in small clusters, talking together and pointing toward the ship. A few appeared to be chatting with the young soldier Governor Kerr had left on guard. From their garish dress and forward manner, Jocelyn took them to be the kind of women Sir Robert had accused her of bringing to his colony. Perhaps they had got word of the governor’s slander and hoped to catch a glimpse their rivals.
Jocelyn could not recall seeing so many women of ill repute together at one time in London…at least not the parts of London she frequented. If Halifax had this great a problem with flesh-peddling, perhaps the governor had some small justification for jumping to the wrong conclusion about her bride ship. But that did not give him grounds for turning them away once he’d discovered their true purpose!
Just then, a woman’s voice called from an open carriage parked nearby. “Oh, Mr. Duckling, a word, if you please?”
Muttering “Duck-worth, damn it!” under his breath, the governor’s aide approached the carriage.
It crossed Jocelyn’s mind to run off while his attention was diverted. Perhaps she could find a clergyman, or some other worthy citizen willing to plead her case with the governor. After an instant’s consideration, she discarded the idea. How could she hope to find someone to help her, when she did not know a single soul in town, nor how to locate them if she did?
She hung back a bit as Mr. Duckworth approached the carriage. “Why, Mrs. Carmont, what a pleasant surprise. May I be of service, ma’am?”
“Indeed you may,” replied the occupant of the carriage, whose voice sounded strangely familiar to Jocelyn. “With a bit of reliable information, if you’d be so kind. It is in very short supply presently. The most preposterous rumors have been circulating about town. Is it true that Barnabas Power imported a shipload of women to cater to the officers of the garrison?”
Duckworth shook his head at the wild story. “A ship did arrive, ma’am, carrying a number of young ladies. But it is my understanding their business in the colony is entirely honorable. Nor have I heard of any connection with Mr. Power except that they have docked at his wharf.”
He turned toward Jocelyn and beckoned. “Here is a lady who can tell you better than I. May I present Mrs. Jocelyn Finch. Mrs. Finch, may I present Mrs. Carmont, the wife of our—”
Before he could finish, the woman cried, “Jocelyn? Lady Jocelyn DeLacey? My dear, it is I, Sally Hastings—Mrs. Carmont since my marriage. What a delightful surprise to find you here in Halifax, of all places on earth!”
“Sally, of course! How good to see you!” Back in England, Jocelyn had hated chance encounters with her old acquaintances. But here and now, she had never been more grateful for the sight of a familiar face.
Sally Carmont threw open the carriage door. “Do come dine with me this evening! We have so much to catch up with one another.”
As Jocelyn moved to accept the invitation, the governor’s aide became quite agitated. “But, His Excellency entrusted me with seeing Mrs. Finch back to her ship!”
“Think nothing more of it, Mr. Duckling.” Sally Carmont waved him on his way. “I promise you, I shall deliver her personally once we’ve dined. I can get my husband to provide us an armed escort, if necessary.”
Clearly Sally was someone of consequence in Halifax, for Duckworth appeared torn between the governor’s orders and the lady’s wishes.
“Please?” Jocelyn appealed to him, hoping she might tip the balance in her favor. “It would mean a great deal to me to spend an evening with an old friend. I give you my word, I will be back aboard ship before midnight. His Excellency need never know a thing about it.”
“The governor’s instructions were very specific, ma’am.”
“Please?”
On the young man’s face, she could see the struggle between a kind desire to oblige her and the tyrannical dictates of duty to his master. “I don’t suppose a small detour would hurt.”
“Not a particle!” Jocelyn pressed a swift kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, thank you!”
“If there’s any fuss
