Virtue of a Governess - By Anne Brear Page 0,1

the rocking and her. The fresh saltiness on the breeze tickled her nose. Land noise, not heard for some time, assaulted her ears as the wharf’s steps loomed ahead. She tried to think clearly, to order her thoughts, only the feeling of trepidation made it difficult.

With a bump and a grind against green slime-covered stone steps, the rowboat was quickly secured and before she was aware, men handed her up the slippery steps and onto the wharf. The incessant noise, the sharp smells and the confusing sights of a busy dock area reeled her senses making her giddy. Her heart thudded. It seemed as though the wharf swayed, but she knew it didn’t. How long would it take to get her land legs?

People crowded around, calling and talking, all busily going about their business. She shrank from a man who stalked by whistling loudly. Faces came and went in front of her and for a moment she couldn’t take a step for the press of the crowd. Panic rose threatening to choke her. What should she do? A frightened moan escaped and she glanced around in mounting alarm. The carefully constructed plans she’d made on the voyage lay in tattered pieces floating around her mind. Nothing sensible formed and she had to fight the desperate urge not to cry.

No, she must focus. She blinked rapidly, took a deep breath and fought for calm.

Her sleeve was suddenly pulled. An urchin with a dirty face pushed back his cap and grinned at her. “Want a cab, Miss? For a penny I can get your luggage to George Street. Do you have an address? Do yer want food? Drink?”

“No…” His persistent questions jabbed at her, leaving her even more unable to think clearly. “No, thank you.”

The urchin grabbed her bag. Instinctively, she wrenched it from him. “Get away from me!”

The boy laughed and ran off, leaving her trembling. She walked a few steps, the call of a newspaper boy filling her ears as he yelled out the latest details of the flooding disaster at Windsor. For one strange moment she thought he meant Windsor in England, but soon realised there must be another Windsor in this country.

“Miss Douglas!”

She turned and sagged in relief. First Mate Jones from the Lady Fair walked towards her, carrying her trunk over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a bag of flour. He dumped it at her feet with a smile that showed a broken front tooth.

“You are kind.” She pushed back a stray tendril of hair that had escaped from under her hat. “I had quite forgotten about it.”

“Not a bother, Miss. It’s not hard to get muddled in a new port.” He swiped off his cap and wiped his sweating brow. “I’ll be glad to see the sun go down, that I will, for then we are ashore on leave for a week.” He smiled again and she returned it.

“And you deserve it. It’s been a long journey.”

“Are you waiting for a cab?”

“No…” She gazed around. “I’d rather not waste money on that. Perhaps I can walk…I need accommodation…” Looking around at the hundreds of strangers filling the area, she doubted her sanity. How had she expected to cope alone in this place? She knew no one. Simply leaving the wharf would prove difficult with no clear direction of what to do. Where would she go?

“Listen, Miss, you need to get yourself up into town proper like, away from here. It’s not the place to be, for a young lady like yourself, when it’s dark.” His dark eyes shone with sympathy at her plight. “Spend the money to get a hansom cab and find a decent hotel. There’s plenty about the city. Hire a room for tonight so you can get your bearings and rest up a bit. Everything will seem better in the morning.”

She nodded. He talked sense. A hotel, of course. She didn’t want to be here at nightfall and a good night’s sleep always made things seem better the next day. “Thank you. I will.”

“Have you been cleared through immigration yet?”

“No.” Her spirits sank once more. She’d completely forgotten. How foolish was she? Had she lost all common sense? Her father wouldn’t know her if he saw her standing in such a muddle. What was wrong with her?

“Right, then.” He heaved her trunk back up onto his shoulder. “It’s over here. Follow me.”

“You are extremely good, thank you.” The hollow ache of being alone lifted slightly and she quickened her