Page 60 of Earl of Excess
“I am glad we are together,” she whispered from his shoulder as she dozed, thinking back to the day they left home.
Their trip started the same as most. The trunks carrying their belongings, including the small, tufted bed that Aunt Theo made for Dandie’s voyage home, were taken aboard the ship while the small family said their goodbyes.
Aunt Theo pressed a clear crystal quartz in the palm of Bethany’s hand. “For luck,” she said with her eyes full of tears.
Bethany closed her fist and squeezed her eyes closed, determined to remember these moments and not cry. The tears came anyway.
“Bethany, I put together this small satchel of medicinal herbs and rolled some dressings. You understand it all, so I labeled nothing but the small vials. I hope you will never need them, but it comforts me you have them,” her Grandmère said.
Her body quaked with unshed tears.
“Do not cry. Aunt Theo and I plan to come. I just have to convince her of the merits of living there. It’ll be our grand adventure,” the older woman said, soothing the tears from her granddaughter’s eyes. “I love you, Bethany.” She kissed her cheeks. Grandmère walked over to Matthew. “Take care of my girls,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
“I will. I promise,” he said, taking a quick swipe at his eyes.
Grandmère leaned down and kissed Dandie. “You be a good girl. Take care of Bethany and mind them, Dandie.”
The dog waggled her rear end and grinned back, signaling she was ready for the adventure.
One more face worked its way to the front. Johnny brought a small bouquet and a bone. “This is for you, Miss Bethany. And this ’ere bone is for Dandie.” Big tears rolled down his cheeks. “I will miss you all.” He looked up at Matthew and saying nothing, wrapped his arms around her husband’s waist. “I will say a prayer for you to have a safe trip,” he said through tears.
A whistle blew on the ship behind them. “It’s time to go, Aunt Theo, Grandmère, Johnny. I will write—to all of you.”
Mr. Sinclair stepped up to Matthew and shook his hand. He handed Bethany a small package wrapped in brown paper. “Bethany, I think you will find the gift useful,” he said gently. Turning to Matthew, he said, “Write me when you get there. If I do not hear from you, I will send the British navy to find you.”
“You would find a way,” Matthew laughed. “I will write as soon as we arrive. I promise.”
The older man gave a quick nod and stepped from the loading area. He stood there with her family and Johnny waving at them. Matthew held her close until they could no longer see them.
“We should be home in a half-hour, Bethany.” Matthew’s voice penetrated her dream.
“Mmm... I am ready to meet everyone,” she sighed, lifting her head and smiling. Seeing more road ahead, she settled her head back on his shoulder and dozed.
A week out of New Orleans had seen their ship blown off course, tossed furiously in the waves of the ocean until finally finding purchase on the jagged, rocky coast of a seemingly uncharted island.
The ship’s crew had tried their best to repair it, but they needed more wood than they could find. They spent months on the island, at first trying to patch the ship, until finally, hoping a ship would find them—as long as it wasn’t a pirate ship.
The weather had been much milder than in America. It never grew cold. By Bethany’s calculation, they spent almost nine months there. Had she not made strikes on paper for each day, she might never have realized.
Matthew became their de facto leader—a nod to his position in the military, Bethany assumed. And she treated illnesses and injuries. As her satchel of herbs depleted, she quickly found substitutes or replacements. Turtles, alligators, fish, and wild boars were plentiful, but they found no sign of humans—or even a sign that humans had ever been on the island.
Dandie made herself useful, immediately alerting everyone anytime she heard a boar. She never even saw a snake, a blessing as far as Bethany was concerned.
It had been Matthew and Dandie that spotted the ship. It was a British frigate, and it appeared their luck was finally turning up. But luck is a matter of opinion.
The ship had been sent to find any sign of their lost vessel. When the British Captain Horatio Greene found the lost ship and their crew, unharmed on an island, the man was beside himself with joy. It was then that Bethany knew Mr. Sinclair had made good on his promise to send it. The captain had a message for Matthew and handed him a missive from the Admiralty. It was from the Duke of Dorman—his lifelong friend.
“What’s wrong, Matthew?” She had asked when they got to their room.
“My father died unexpectedly,” he said as tears coursed his cheeks. “My uncle, Baron Longdale, has identified himself as guardian for my younger brother. He had even requested that Sinclair stop searching for me, thinking they had never found me. It is very important we get to England.”
Bethany was speechless. Matthew’s father had died, and he had never said goodbye.
She felt the road change from smooth to loud and crumbly, as if they were riding on crushed rock or shells, waking Bethany from her sleep. “This is to be a surprise, right?”
“I thought about sending a note but decided it would be better to surprise everyone. I hope they are home, and we are not the ones surprised,” he said, laughing.
As the carriage pulled up front, a liveried footman hurried down to open the door.
