No Shadow of Turning

By Julie Fletcher Watson

Forced to leave her home in England and marry a man she does not know, Emma Smyth must face the hardships of tragedy on the open seas. Her faith will be tested as her uncertain future leads her to the untamed wilderness of the Americas. Will that faraway land prove to be her haven as she works among the Cherokee? What of her love for Johnathana love she wants, but cannot have?

After ten years of serving aboard a merchant galleon, Johnathan Willingham finds himself unwillingly headed back to the Americas. He does not plan to stay long. Emma and the cabin boy, Samuel, will be left safely in the hands of Johnathans sister and Cherokee brother-in-law. His love for Emma will not hold him in the Americas. He will leave, without looking back.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490824741

Julie Fletcher Watson

Julie Fletcher Watson lives in Birmingham, Alabama, with her husband, Steve. She has authored one previous novel, In the Shadow of His Wings. Julie has three children and five grandchildren. She enjoys working with the drama ministry at her home church in Glencoe, Alabama.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 Julie Watson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-2475-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2476-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2474-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014901754

WestBow Press rev. date: 02/21/2014

Contents

Indian Words and Meanings

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Epilogue

Julie Watson has once again shown her ability to captivate her audience and literally transport her reader back into the day of frontier life and the struggles associated with carving out a life in a new world. You will become immersed in the characters of her new book, which allows the reader to continue the story which was set in her previous book. You will witness how the enduring strength of love can conquer even the most difficult circumstances, and how the passion for sharing the Gospel is clearly articulated in the lives of her characters. Julie has mastered the art of creating a storyline that will not only hold your attention, anticipating the next series of events in the lives of the characters, but wraps it all in a Christian theme that will leave you feeling inspired. For the romantic in each of us, No Shadow of Turning is a must read. You will definitely want to pass this book on to your friends and family.

Pastor Mark Gidley – Faith Worship Center, Glencoe, Alabama

I dedicate this book to my father, Phillip Fletcher,

my childhood hero and the hardest worker I know;

still going strong at eighty-years-old.

And to

My husband, Steve, who has stood with me and

encouraged me to continue writing. Without his

support, this dream would not have been realized.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above,

And cometh down from the Father of lights,

with whom is no variableness,

Neither shadow of turning.

James 1:17

Indian Words and Meanings

Cherokee:

Ahawi Ganohalidohi-deer hunter

Daksi-terrapin turtle

Gigage Wahya-red wolf

Kamama Aliskisk-butterfly dancer

Nokwsi-star

Noya-sand

Saligugi-snapping turtle

Santeetlah-blue waters

Unole-storm

Yansa-buffalo

Yona-bear

Yowa-Cherokee great spirit

Creek:

Chaha-high place

Note: In the writing of this manuscript the author endeavored to include traditions held by the Cherokee during the era the story took place, which is the mid-sixteen hundreds. Hence, none of the Cherokee Indian characters spoke the names of their Cherokee brothers or sisters. Tradition held that they only call one another by name during tribal ceremonies.

Chapter One

Sumer, 1647

England

What did you say? Emma asked as she stared at her father in disbelief.

I did not stammer, Emma Louise. Do not require me to repeat myself. Do you imagine I take pleasure in the telling of this news? Sir Gylbert Ansel Smyth momentarily looked down into his daughter’s amber-brown eyes before turning, his hands folded behind his back, to stare vacantly out of the window.

Emma’s father held his head high, squared his shoulders, and spoke, his voice unwavering. I have decided this is the best course for your life. You will be married to Captain Edmond Greaves in a fortnight. You will sail with him aboard his ship, and he will take you to live at his home on the Island of Saint Helena. Your mother will help to prepare you for your leave.

Emma’s heart raced as she frantically tried to remember what she’d read about St. Helena. Was it not a small island somewhere in the South Atlantic? She vaguely recalled reading about it in her father’s study. The historical book of English wars dictated that English war ships used the island area to counter surprise attacks against Portuguese Indian carracks. Beyond that, she could not recall details about the far away island.

But, Father, Captain Greaves is… began Emma’s desperate objection.

That will be all, Daughter. You are dismissed, her father barked in agitation.

Emma knew there was no use pursuing an argument. The matter was settled as far as her father was concerned, and he would not relent in his decision. After all, at twenty-years-old, she was well beyond the age at which she should’ve been married. It was not unusual for a daughter of England to become betrothed to a man more than twice her age.

Marrying her off to a man she hardly knew did not distress Emma’s parents. It was the way of the English. Young ladies bred of prominent society were to be married as early as possible to a man whomever their fathers deemed could best support their female offspring, regardless of the suitor’s age. The daughters themselves had no say in the matter but were expected to show gratitude toward their fathers for the fortune of providing a husband.

Emma stared hopelessly at her father’s unrelenting back before moving quietly from the room. Her calm manner belied the raging of her heart. Making her way down the corridor, she slipped into her darkened room. Moonbeams cascaded into the silent chamber, keeping their distance from the shadows and lighting her path to a polished oak coffer sitting directly beneath her window. It was to this spot she often came to make an altar of prayer.

Sinking to her knees, she cried out to God. "Father, I cannot do this. I cannot marry this man. It is not only that he is so much older than me, but I am certain he is not a man who serves You. I know I have no right to judge the heart of another, but Your Word has already judged. I have recently come to learn that all are judged by their fruits, and I see no evidence of godly fruit in Edmond Greaves. Lord, You know all things. You know that in the past I have witnessed his drunken gait as he left the house of my father. I know, as Your child, I am not at liberty to harbor rebellion, but how can I do as my father bids? I am afraid. I do not know what to do. Show me the way, Lord. Please help me."

Suddenly, it came to Emma that she must seek godly counsel. She knew it was improper and even dangerous for a young girl, especially the daughter of a man of the nobility, to venture out unescorted this late at night, but she must see Phillip Millward.

Without hesitation she went to the small chest hidden under her bed and took out a worn old cape. She’d bought it from a street peddler weeks before when she first began her secret excursions to attend the Christian meetings at the home of Phillip Newman Millward and his wife, Alyce.

After donning the cloak, Emma carefully hid her long, dark hair deep inside the folds of its hood. There was sure to be trouble if any of the foul smelling, drunken men, who could be found on the streets of the neighborhood she was about to visit, discovered she was a young woman traveling alone.

With the cape securely concealing her womanly identity, Emma emerged noiselessly from her bedchamber. Pausing in front of the entryway that led to her mother’s chambers, Emma briefly contemplated seeking her counsel. She dismissed the idea with a soundless sigh. Millicent Smyth could’nt be counted on as an ally. Emma’s mother had little to do with her daughter since she came into the world.

Millicent related to Emma, on more than one occasion, the difficulty she’d had bearing her firstborn child. The birth was a long and hard one. Emma’s mother was left frail and fighting for her life for nearly a year. During that time the infant Emma was given over to the care of a wet nurse. By the time she was two, Emma had been overseen by more than four nursemaids. Millicent Smyth, it appeared, forgot she even had a daughter. A baby sister came along when Emma was four. This time the event went well for Millicent, and she took to her new daughter forthrightly.

Emma was never bitter about the indifference her mother showed because it never occurred to her to miss a mother’s love. When Emma was six, she was fortunate to have a nursemaid who knew how to read. Every afternoon for seven years, Emma and her nursemaid would sneak away to sit under the limbs of one of the wild pear trees that lined her father’s property and read until the evening meal. Emma found solace in reading thereafter. Whenever she felt lonely she captured a book from her father’s library and stole off to lose herself in an adventure of chivalrous knights and distressed damsels of faraway lands.

Thus, Emma bypassed her mother’s chambers and made her way down to the kitchen. As Emma suspected, the kitchen was empty. Cook, along with the rest of the household staff, was usually in bed long before now as they would have to rise two hours before the sun in order to begin their day’s work. Emma had no problem lifting the latch and escaping the outer entrance. The heavy door made its usual loud creaking noises, but there was no one to hear.

The moon was bright and lit the way for Emma as she slipped in and out of alleyways and side streets. Emma was grateful that the persistent rains that so often plagued her homeland were not present on this night. Praying for the Lord to clear the way for her, Emma hurried along with determination. She must to get to Phillip Millward. He and his wife Alyce were sure to be in bed by the time she reached their home, but she must see them tonight. She desperately needed counsel and prayer, for a fortnight was sure to come quickly.

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Emma sat next to the fire in the small front room of the Millward home and shivered. The fireplace gave off its usual heat, but Emma could not feel the warmth. She accepted the steaming mug of hot cider offered to her by Alyce and took a careful sip. Alyce sat in the chair next to her husband across from Emma, and the three continued their discussion.

I can see you’re upset, acknowledged Phillip, but we must not panic. We will take time to pray and trust God. We must trust him to show us what to do.

Alyce reached out and took Emma’s hand. We know what the Bible teaches of a man and woman being unequally yoked. Therefore, I can’t believe this is what God has for you. As long as we seek Him in this, there is hope. We cannot doubt He has a sovereign plan to deliver you.

But how…how could He deliver me from this? My father will not relent. The plans are set. Captain Greaves will come for me in a fortnight.

Phillip rose and paced the short length of the room. The two women looked at each other and did not speak, allowing him the silence for thought. Suddenly, he sat down beside them. There may be something we can do. There has been talk of a few of the families, who have been attending our meetings, sailing to the Americas. They tire of being persecuted for their beliefs. What with the bickering between King Charles Royalists and the Roundheads, it’s a wonder we have any peace at all over our own spiritual convictions.

Phillip paused and looked squarely at Emma. Perhaps their answer to escaping persecution could be your answer as well.

Emma’s shaking subsided long enough for her to stare in disbelief at her mentor. The Americas, she echoed, barely on a breath. I have never been outside of London. I could not do it. I would not begin to know how to fare on such a journey. Why, I have heard the Americas is a wild and heathen country. I remember the stories from my childhood…so many sailed there only to meet their death.

Phillip placed his hands on his hips and nodded in agreement. "It is true, I’m afraid. Many of the first to arrive in the Americas had a horrible time trying to make their way in the wilderness. But the most recent years have brought good news from that far land. Reports have been made that many men are making their fortune with tobacco and other crops. And the land, though still young and for the most part untamed, has been good to them.

There are many new colonies rising up every year. But, most importantly, men are free to worship God in the way his own heart seems fit. They are able to allow their Christianity to be led by the Spirit of our Lord, not by the inclination of a king or the rules of parliament. Pausing, Phillip looked down at his wife and took her hand. I find it tempting to take leave and go myself. But I feel the Lord’s work for me is here in England.

Alyce offered her husband an understanding smile, then stood, facing him. Surely there’s another way we can help Emma. The Americas…it seems such a desperate move.

This is a desperate circumstance indeed that Emma faces. I know Captain Greaves. He is a hard man, and his spiritual condition is as far from God as any man I’ve known.

Husband and wife did not miss the terror-stricken look that crossed their guests face. Alyce knelt in front of Emma’s chair and took her friend’s hand in her own. For the next hour the three prayed and sought God together. They agreed to pray and wait on the Lord. Phillip would ask about and see if one of the families going to the Americas might be willing to take Emma with them. Emma had not consented to go, and that direction might not prove to be what the Lord wanted for her. Still, he would check and make preparations just in case.

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Phillip escorted Emma to the edge of her family’s courtyard in the wee hours of the morning. The two made plans for Emma to meet with Phillip and Alyce in the marketplace in three days. Hopefully, by then, the Lord would have revealed a clear course of action.

I know in my heart, God will deliver you from this man, Emma, Phillip encouraged. As we were praying tonight, I felt in my spirit that the Lord wants you to know, He does not will for you to spend a life in bondage to Captain Greaves and his evil ways. And He has already put in to motion a way of escape. He is asking you to wait on Him…to trust in Him no matter what tomorrow brings. He will reveal His plan in time. But come-what-may, do not lose your faith.

I will not, whispered Emma. I will not lose faith in the Lord Jesus, and I will hold close comfort in knowing you and Alyce are praying for me.

Phillip watched Emma as she walked from him and stepped safely into her father’s house before turning and making his way back to his part of town.

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Emma silently pulled the handle and opened the door to her bedchamber. Once inside, she pushed it slowly to close without a sound. Turning away from the door to move to her bed, Emma started when she realized she was not alone. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness of her room, she could make out a figure standing at the foot of her bed.

Who is there? she called out, nervously.

Her father’s voice sounded out in the darkness. It is I.

Taken aback, as her father had never in his entire life visited her bedchamber, Emma stood frozen where she was. Coming to her senses, she moved to the table by her bedside and lit a candle. She raised it up until she could see her father’s face. His ashen, stone-cold countenance caused Emma to take a frightened step backward.

Finding her voice, Emma spoke to break the silence. Father, whatever is the matter? Why are you looking at me so strangely?

Sir Gylbert Smyth answered with a slow sweeping gaze over his daughter’s attire.

Emma looked down at the forgotten drab and tattered gray folds of the peddler’s cloak she was wearing. Her mouth dropped open, but no sound came forth as she looked up to behold the dark anger smoldering in her father’s eyes. She knew, in that instant, she’d been found out.

If I had not seen with my own eyes, I would not have believed… came the voice hard as steel. …sneaking out under the cloak of night… betraying your father by going to the home of a known troublemaker. It is well spread about that this Phillip Millward and his wife hold secret meetings in their house to promote their own religious ideas while speaking against the Church of England. Nor, do I hear, does he share the views of our King. Misguided as many feel Charles is regarding religion, he is our king. This Millward holds no fealty to either of England’s religious hierarchy.

Sir Gylbert’s thunderous tirade snapped Emma out of her stupor. He does not speak against England’s church or King Charles. He only speaks the truth of God’s word. The Holy word of God itself speaks out against a church or king who would dictate what a man should believe or bind a man’s heart to callous laws that have nothing to do with God’s love.

The words spoken with unfettered passion were out before Emma could stop them. The hard slap delivered by her father’s large, beefy hand stung Emma’s face. Stunned, she staggered backward against her bed.

"Know that your conspirators are saved only because I do not want the disgrace of this affair brought to the attention of the king or Parliament. As a member of the House of Commons, it would be a stain on my reputation to say the least. I will bide my time.

In a fortnight, you will be married to Captain Edmond Greaves and headed for Saint Helena. I will never again have the dishonor of resting my eyes on you. From now until the moment you are taken from here to sail with Captain Greaves, you will be locked in your chamber. Do not cry out. No one will come for you. Do not seek an audience with me. I will not grant one. From this time forward I have no daughter by the name of Emma Louise.

Chapter Two

The time had come—the night of Emma’s marriage. Her father was true to his word. He did not come to seek out his daughter, and Emma had not been allowed from her bedchamber. The only person she’d seen since her confinement was the chambermaid, who brought in her meals and bathing water each day.

Throughout her seclusion, Emma sought God continually. She had trusted and believed God would deliver her just as Phillip promised. But the day arrived and still her deliverance did not. Hard as it was, Emma held to her faith.

I do not understand, Lord, she prayed that very morning. … Why have You not made a way of escape? Doubts try to torment me and shake my foundation. But, Father, You have declared in Isaiah that Your ways are not my ways…Your thoughts, not my thoughts. I know Your ways are higher than my own. So, Lord, help me to remember that word in this time of uncertainty. I can see not one bit of evidence that You are at work in this situation. But as I promised my good friend Phillip, no matter what comes, I will not lose faith. I know he and Alyce must be worried. But just as I feel their prayers that have taken wings to sustain me, I pray now You will give them peace, and let them know that I am, and will be well. Help me, Father. Help me to not be afraid and to continue to have courage in the hope of Jesus my salvation.

On several occasions, Emma asked the chambermaid to take a message to her mother or sister. Even though she’d not been close to either of them in the past years, she desired to bid them farewell. But the chambermaid was obviously under strict orders from Emma’s father. For she would guard her gaze from Emma’s, answer not a word then briskly scurry from the room once her task was finished.

Emma was kneeling again in prayer when she heard the sound of her door being unlocked. Turning, she saw the chambermaid enter. The maid carried a simple gown of fine, white linen draped over one arm. Over the other arm lay an outer garment made of intricately woven, Spanish lace.

Avoiding Emma’s eyes as usual, the chambermaid spoke. Your father wishes you to clothe your body with these garments and ready yourself for your wedding. He requests that you fashion your hair up and… the maid held up a string of pearls adorned with four diamond shaped emeralds. He requests that I present you with this gift, as he wishes you to appear before your husband as a worthy bride on your wedding night.

A shudder ran down the length of Emma’s spine at the realization of those words—your wedding night. Fear gripped her at the implication, and she prayed for strength.

Composing herself, she spoke kindly but resolutely to the young maid. I will not wear the lace, only the white linen. Nor will I accept the gift of jewels from my father’s hand. He has abandoned me, and by his own words…I am dead to him.

The servant girl looked uncertain but seemed to understand that Emma would prove unyielding. So without further discourse, she prepared Emma’s bath.

After Emma was clothed with the linen gown, she allowed the chambermaid to comb her dark brown hair but insisted upon wearing her silky tresses long and loose down her back. She decided she would not garnish herself in the least for this union of convenience that claimed her as prisoner. Obediently, Emma would go to her wedding, but with no jewels adorning her neck, fingers, or bodice. When she entered into her marriage, she intended her appearance to mirror the hopelessness she felt within.

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Johnathan impatiently turned his tri-cornered hat in his hands several times. He was growing warm in his long, navy colored cloak, and the stiff, white linen tunic irritated the skin at the nape of his neck, where his blonde hair was tied back with a thin leather strap. He wanted nothing more than to finish his errand, return to the ship, and be rid of this uncomfortable gentleman’s clothing.

As he flicked a spot of dust off his dark wool stockings, his temperamental ire continued to build. He’d not been pleased when the captain, after having a little too much ale to accomplish the task himself, appointed Johnathan to escort the bride-to-be to the waiting Tempest Gale. Now it appeared there was no one to meet him at the home of Sir Gylbert Smyth. Instead a manservant greeted him upon his arrival and informed him that the lord of the manor was indisposed and could not welcome him. The servant cleared his throat and made the odd request that Johnathan accompany him to the waiting lady’s chamber. From there, the manservant further informed, Johnathan was to escort her directly to the ship.

With great irritation, Johnathan climbed the stone steps behind the servant, who held a candle before him to light the way. Walking through a passageway that led to a great hall, the servant stopped and rapped on a wide wooden door. After a few seconds, a chambermaid opened the heavy door then moved aside to allow Johnathan’s entrance.

As he crossed the threshold of the dim lit chamber, Johnathan saw her. The lady stood looking out of a single window, her back turned to him. Her long, dark, unbound, hair shimmered in the candlelight as she turned to look at him. Her deep brown eyes also reflected the light from the candle, making her appear to Johnathan as a lovely but elusive apparition.

Though her countenance was sad and her demeanor subdued, Johnathan was immediately captivated by the young woman’s beauty. For the first time in his life, he stood speechless and mesmerized in the presence of a woman.

After an awkward silence, he found his voice and announced with a slight bow, "Johnathn Willingham at your service, milady. I have been sent by Captain Edmond Greaves to accompany you to the Tempest Gale. My men have already seen to your trunks and your carriage a-waits."

The woman’s expression did not change, and she did not move from her stance in front of the window. Though her eyes were looking at him, it seemed to Johnathan that she did not see him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he said, I will wait outside your chamber until you have finished dressing for your wedding.

Johnathan turned to exit the chamber but was stopped by words from the lady who, at that moment, seemed reluctantly to come alive and acknowledge his presence.

There is no need, sir. I am quite ready to take leave, and I go as I am.

Jonathan turned back to look into the surprisingly sincere eyes of Emma Smyth. His eyes narrowed as they swept over her. Pardon, milady, but surely you jest. Or…perhaps you have been misinformed. It is the wish of Captain Greaves to take you as his bride on this very night.

I can assure you, sir, that I am quite aware, and I find this whole ordeal no matter in which to jest, she answered, somewhat curtly.

Johnathan took a few steps closer to the lady. And I can assure you, madam; Captain Greaves will expect you to arrive at his wedding in proper attire. Though you are a vision of beauty in this simple garment, it will only prove an insult to him.

When the lady did not move to accommodate his wishes, he put in, in an impatient and deliberate tone, Do you wish that I call your father to intervene in this matter?

Emma Smyth lowered her gaze from Johnathan and remarked meekly, My father will not come to my chamber, sir, of that I am certain.

Johnathan’s jaw clinched in exasperation. He looked from the manservant, who was standing just inside the chamber door, to the maidservant standing behind Emma. From the expression on their faces, he could tell the lady told the truth. The hour was growing late, and he could ill afford to delay their departure. Captain Greaves would not be pleased if the wedding ceremony were hindered due to the bride’s untimely arrival aboard the Tempest Gale.

Very well, then. We will see about this matter once aboard ship, Johnathan conceded. He bowed low, regarding her with hard eyes as he swept his hand toward the doorway, indicating he would succeed her.

The lady spoke not another word but donned her cape and took leave of her chamber without looking back.

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It was a cool September night, and Johnathan hired a closed coach to escort the lady to the docks. He sat in the seat opposite her and wondered. She seemed so unlike the other ladies of high society England he’d known, appearing almost reluctant about her coming marriage to the captain of a ship.

Perhaps, he mused, she does not realize the wealth and station of this particular captain.

Johnathan was certain, once she found out, she would begin behaving like a queen, holding her head high and ordering others about to indulge her every whim. Yes, once she beheld the opulent captain’s quarters of the Tempest Gale and the great house on the Island of Saint Helena, located off the African coast, which would be her newfound home, her demeanor would change. It was evident her father had kept her in the dark about the prominence of her husband to be.

Once she realizes the monetary worth and social position held by the captain, she will seek to beguile him with her charms. After all, do not all noble English women desire to live out their lives in the luxury of continued wealth and position? He, silently, asked himself.

Not resisting the temptation to satisfy his curiosity and draw her out, Johnathan sought to engage the lady in conversation. Is it difficult for you to leave your father and mother to sail about to worlds unknown?

Emma Smyth was staring out of the carriage window into the fading light of day. It seemed to take a moment before she realized her host was speaking.

I’m sorry. Did you speak to me, sir?

Upon this question, it occurred to Johnathan that, aside from her verbal refusal to dress adequately, this woman had barely acknowledged him from the time he called on her at her father’s residence. This was odd to him as he was not accustomed to being ignored by the opposite sex.

The women he’d known since coming to England, several years prior, had all been taken with his American accent as well as his rugged stature, dreamy, brown eyes and light blonde hair. Not to mention the fact, it was rumored that he had acquired great wealth from his shipping ventures with Captain Greaves.

I asked if you were sad about leaving your family behind, repeated Johnathan.

Emma regarded her escort. Even though she appeared to have no desire to indulge in conversation, she answered. …My family? Sir…err…I do apologize…what title did you say you go by? Sir Willingham, was it?

Johnathan crooked a smile. He thought the importance to the English of all their titles a bore. I am no sir, madam. You may call me Johnathan.

Ignoring his meaningful comment, Emma continued without a title or proper name. The sadness regarding my family is not about my leaving. For years I’ve found myself missing them, though we lived under the same roof.

Johnathan, who was not expecting this response, grew increasingly mystified. For it seemed to reason if she was not close to her family, she wouldn’t approach her upcoming marriage with such aloofness.

I am sorry, he said, his tone suggesting a slight conviction. Something about his unsought apology clearly caused the lady to struggle to push out of her despondency.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. Please I did not mean to sound ungrateful. My father provided well for me. And God has been so good. Forgive me for my complaining spirit. The past few weeks have tried me, sorely. I am afraid I find myself faltering in my faith. But I know my Lord will see me through. He will bring restoration.

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The cynical look that flashed across Johnathan Willingham’s face at the mention of her faith did not go unnoticed by Emma. She knew she should be cautious. Though she gathered from his American accent that he was not a native Englishman, he might prove to hold the stoic views of the Church of England. Still, Emma threw caution to the wind and spoke her mind. You do not share my confidence in the Lord?

Johnathan’s brows lifted in apparent intrigue at her boldness in questioning his thoughts. I do not have confidence in much of anything, save my own abilities. He stated, flatly.

This time it was Emma’s brow that rose in question. She was certain she had never before met such an arrogant man. "Now, that confession, sir, is something that causes me sadness, indeed."

Emma’s words were not said with a condemning air but rather with a flavor of sincerity. For that reason, she supposed, the man chose to ignore the use of title and to concede the conversation with a nod of his head, and the two held their silence for the remainder of the trip.

As the carriage rounded a wide bend and reached the top of a knoll, the harbor lights came into view. The moon cast its pale glow across the stretched canvases of several ships below, and Emma shivered as she wondered which vessel was the Tempest Gale. Within minutes, the carriage pulled onto the docks before suddenly coming to a stop in front of an enormous ship. Closer now, Emma was able to hear the shuddering of the canvases as they caught the wind. The creaking sound of the taut rigging seemed to call out to her—Beware! Beware!

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Opening the door, Johnathan stepped out of the carriage. He waited, for what seemed several minutes, for the lady to stir. When she made no indication of leaving her seat, Johnathan peered into the carriage. She was staring blankly out of the window at the giant ship, etched ghost-like against the night sky—its dark masts reaching eerily from the ships body toward the misty heavens.

Milady, we must make hast. The captain desires to sail within the hour in order to catch the tide. Once we are out of the harbor and have put to sea, the wedding will begin, he informed, offering his hand to help her out of the carriage.

Emma turned methodically from her visage of the looming vessel and reached to take his hand.

Taking hold of the lady’s gloved hand Johnathan helped her to the ground and felt her tremble. You are shaking. Are you cold?

When she did not answer, he placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head, so he could see her face, which was partially concealed by the hood of her cape. As she looked at him, he could see fear in the depths of her dark eyes.

Emotions stirred in Johnathan that had been long hidden. He’d worked hard over the past few years to bury feelings of weakness—feelings that only served to hinder a man and cause him pain. Suddenly, visions of his mother and sister passed before his eyes, and the sharp dagger of remembrance pierced his heart.

Johnathan stole himself against the vision, reminding himself not to care. He took his hand from the lady and tore his eyes from hers. Turning toward the Tempest Gale and walking ahead of Emma, he said, sharply, Come, I will take you to your quarters.

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Emma watched as Johnathan made his way up the gangway. Slowly, following his hasty steps, she wondered that her slippered feet could manage to carry her trembling legs up the slick, wooden plank to board the ship. A foggy mist swirled about her as the escort topped the gangway, and Emma lost sight of him. Coming to the top herself, Emma stumbled as the patch of fog thickened. Losing her balance, she began to fall helplessly forward into the ship before feeling strong hands grab her about the waist to secure her.

Instinctively, she held onto the muscular arms that steadied her. As a brisk breeze whisked the fog away, Emma found herself looking down into the eyes of Johnathan Willingham. They were veiled eyes—hard and uncaring. In the carriage, Emma had not noticed them to be that way, but when he lifted her face to his after helping her from the carriage, those eyes seemed to lose their warmth and turn to stone before her.

After helping her