An Unsinkable Love(2)
13
An Unsinkable Love
by Terri Benson
"But you see, I am very experienced." Bree quickly turned to her trunk, snapped the latches and pulled out several garments, laying them across the open lid before he could object. "This is my work. I've been seamstress for the Lady Rothberry here for nigh on four years. If you doubt my word, the millinery is up the way a piece and Mrs. O'Malley will most certainly vouch for me. And I'm nearly nineteen, even though I don't look it."
The man regarded her with disbelief, then shook his head and picked up a soft, forest-green woolen cape. He rubbed his fingers over the beaded border, turning a seam out. Bending close, he scrutinized the tiny, neat stitches. He laid the cape down and picked up a crisp white shirtwaist. The buttonholes were exactly matched, heavy lace graced throat and cuffs, and the topstitching ran perfectly straight. Bree knew he wouldn't find any flaws in her work. She'd spent too many nights under her mother's tutelage to make mistakes, and Lady Rothberry hadn't tolerated anything less than perfection.
"The lace is mine as well, but I'm much to slow to make it for anyone but myself."
He peered down at her, taking in the lightweight wool suit she wore, his expression thoughtful. Bree was glad she'd worn her best outfit. It was quite fashionable, pieced from remnants of Lady Rothberry's latest traveling suit. She'd planned to wear something old to avoid soiling her good clothes, but had changed her mind at the last minute.
"What is your name, young lady?"
"Bridget Barry, sir. But everyone calls me Bree."
14
An Unsinkable Love
by Terri Benson
"I'm not a man to make hasty decisions normally, but today I don't have the luxury of mulling it over. I'll give you a chance, Miss Barry. Do not disappoint me."
Bree nodded solemnly, but inside her stomach flip-flopped with excitement.
"I'm Reginald Barton, purser for the White Star Line. I'll take you on as seamstress. You'll be provided with a berth, uniforms, your meals and very little else."
She eyed him sharply and he smiled at his attempt at a jest.
"For the outrageous wage of three pounds, you'll work long hours providing our clients with exemplary service. The cruise lasts six more days. You'll be expected to stay in New York as our employee and make the return trip." He looked at his watch. "We sail in an hour." He pointed at her trunk as she finished repacking and flicked the latches. "It appears you're packed and ready to go?"
Bree couldn't believe her luck. Not only would she sail away from this place, she wouldn't have to spend any of her hard-earned funds to do it. She nodded. "Yes, sir. I have everything I need right here." Not just everything she needed, but everything she owned. She wouldn't tell him that, though. Her thoughts whirled. This was it—a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get away from the near-slavery she'd experienced most of her life. America here I come, praise be to God!
After he glanced at his watch again, Mr. Barton muttered to himself and flagged down an open carriage for hire. He hoisted her trunk into the boot and handed her in. As soon as 15
An Unsinkable Love
by Terri Benson
he settled across from her, he urged the driver to make all speed down the quay toward the White Star dock. As the horse clip-clopped at a good pace over the jarring cobblestones, Mr. Barton inquired, "Are you from Queensland? You don't have much of a brogue."
"Yes, sir, I am. But my mother and I worked up at the manor, and Lady Rothberry didn't like Irish accents. She said it made us sound coarse and stupid. We needed the work."
Bree shrugged. "There was a tutor at the manor until we learned to speak 'proper' English."
"What brought you to the wharf today?"
"Well, you see, I intended to purchase a ticket for the ship when I overheard you."
"I suppose I've done White Star out of a few pounds then."
He smiled and Bree allowed her shoulders to relax. He wasn't going to change his mind.
They arrived barely in time to catch the paddle-wheeled tender America on its last run. Mr. Barton set her trunk down on deck and moved off to the tender's bridge to speak with the same man she'd seen him talking to on shore.
Alone on deck, Bree looked around nervously, unable to shake the fear her brothers or the Rothberrys would catch her at the last minute and drag her off. The tender gave a shrill whistle and pulled away from the dock at a snail's pace.