Mail Order Mix-Up

Her cheeks flushed. “Mrs. Smythe, actually. But my husband was killed in the war.”

“My sympathies, ma’am. Most families lost someone. Two of my cousins never returned.”

She bowed her head, as if overcome.

Roland glanced back to see Holmes had joined them at some point. He made further introductions and then began to angle the investor toward the gentlemen’s lounge. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Holmes and I have business to attend to. I hope to see you ladies later.”

“You will hardly be able to avoid Fiona,” Pearl noted, “since she will join you at dinner.”

“Ah, yes...dinner.” Why did she have to remind him of that now-onerous task?

He opened his mouth to say more, but Holmes interrupted with an even more unwelcome proposition. “Why don’t all of you join us?”

Roland couldn’t stifle this groan. Four women would hinder any attempt at striking a deal before they reached Singapore. “I doubt there would be enough room at the captain’s table.”

“I—I have other plans,” Louise Smythe spluttered, slipping into the background again.

Mr. Holmes accepted her regrets but not the protests of Pearl and Amanda. “I happen to know that there is ample room.”

Pearl’s expression had tightened, as if she dreaded the thought of dining with them, but Amanda clapped her hands with delight.

“The captain’s table! It will be wonderful, won’t it, Pearl?”

The no-nonsense woman looked like she was about to make an excuse, but after a pleading look from Amanda, she gave in. “We would be delighted.”

“It will be an excellent opportunity to get better acquainted,” Amanda said, again glancing between Pearl and him. “Won’t it?”

“We will have plenty of time to get acquainted once we all disembark in Singapore,” Pearl stated.

“All?” Roland didn’t miss that little word. “You’re all going to Singapore? Why? There’s nothing for women to do there. Except the school, of course.”

Now Pearl looked perplexed. “But you are expecting us.”

“What?” He backed up a step. “I’m not expecting anyone, least of all four women.”

Amanda looked like she would burst into tears. Louise Smythe bit her lip.

Only Pearl stood strong. “Then there has been a very grave mistake, Mr. Decker.”

Prickles ran up Roland’s spine. Whatever mistaken impression these ladies had come to believe, he wanted no part of it.

“Indeed there has.” He bowed stiffly. “Good afternoon, ladies. Mr. Holmes and I have business to attend to.”

Then, like a coward, he escaped to the safety of the gentlemen’s lounge to decipher what had just happened and figure out how he was going to get out of the mess.

* * *

The thought of dining with Mr. Decker knotted Pearl’s stomach. Gazing at him from afar had been pleasant. More than pleasant. Those brilliant blue eyes drew her in like no other man, but she’d let her fancy roam where it had no business going. Pearl Lawson was a schoolteacher, under contract to teach, not marry. Despite his peculiar behavior, Mr. Decker must want to marry at once. His advertisement had drawn three eligible women. Thus far. There could be many more already in Singapore. To give Amanda equal footing with Fiona, she’d agreed to her friend’s pleas to join him for dinner, but it would be difficult not to let her suddenly unruly emotions run wild.

She shouldn’t be concerned. Handsome men had never flocked to her side. Amanda was the pretty one, the one who drew men’s attention. Amanda desperately wanted to marry and have a family. She was the one who was responding to Mr. Decker’s advertisement. Pearl had no business thinking of Mr. Decker in any manner except as the object of Amanda’s affection. Still, it would be difficult to sit with the man at dinner and not let her thoughts roam into forbidden territory.

Provided they were even admitted into the dining saloon. Third-class tickets did not entitle them to meals, and they could not afford to purchase them. This invitation promised to turn into an embarrassing fiasco.

She worried her gloves while Amanda tidied up before dinner. Since they were already wearing their best gowns, they could not change, but a little brushing off of the dust and adjusting of the hair might make them more presentable.

“I wish I had a silk gown like Fiona’s.” Amanda sighed.

“Yours is infinitely prettier.”

Amanda blushed. “But it’s not silk, and it’s handmade.”

“By an expert seamstress.”

“You don’t think he knows I made it, do you?”

“I doubt his business is tailoring or dressmaking.” Pearl brushed at the wrinkles creasing her rust-colored skirt. “Besides, why would he look at your gown when your features are so much more pleasing?”

“Do you think so?” Even more color dotted Amanda’s cheeks. She turned back to the tiny mirror loaned to them by another third-class passenger. “I think he was more interested in you.”

A shock bolted through Pearl. Could a handsome, well-off man like Mr. Decker be attracted to a tall, ungainly woman like her? “Impossible. Moreover, I am not the one responding to his advertisement.”

Amanda bit her lower lip as a frown creased her brow. “Did you notice how he reacted when you pointed out that he must be expecting us?”

Pearl had to admit that she’d noticed. “Perhaps he didn’t understand.” Surely a man who advertised for a wife would expect someone to answer that advertisement. What if Mr. Decker turned out little better than Hugh Bellchamp, first luring women to Singapore and then dashing their hopes? “He must have misunderstood.”

“Perhaps.” But Amanda looked as skeptical as Pearl felt.

“We could send our regrets and dine on our cheese and biscuits as planned.”

“Oh, no. We must attend,” Amanda urged. “I couldn’t send regrets. Not now.”

Thus they found themselves approaching the doors of the dining saloon at precisely seven o’clock. Many passengers milled about waiting to be seated. Pearl hung back to look for Mr. Decker, but he found them first.

“Miss Lawson. Miss Porter.”

She couldn’t help noticing that he addressed her first and lingered longer over her hand. If Amanda noticed, she did not remark upon it. They then proceeded to discuss the day’s weather, the prognosis for that night and the usual inquiries into health and well-being.

At last the steward indicated he was ready to seat Mr. Decker’s party. Soon Pearl would find out if she and Amanda would be refused entry.

When Amanda moved toward the steward, Mr. Decker pulled Pearl aside. “I hate to ask this of you upon such short acquaintance, but I beg you to remind Mr. Holmes that you are the town’s schoolteacher.”

Pearl frowned. “Why?”

Instead of answering, he retrieved Amanda and nestled her on his left arm while holding out his right for Pearl.

She shook her head. This moment must belong to Amanda.

Without a single comment, the steward led them to the table situated at the front of the room. The captain, resplendent in his uniform, stood to greet them. Pearl breathed out in relief. They would not be refused. Naturally Fiona O’Keefe was already there. Judging by her expression she was not pleased to see that Mr. Decker had brought guests. When he seated Pearl next to Fiona, the woman’s irritation visibly rose.

The entire seating arrangement was peculiar. Considering Mr. Decker’s request, Pearl had expected to be seated next to Mr. Holmes. Instead, Amanda took that place, with Mr. Decker on her other side. From this distance, Pearl would have to shout for Mr. Holmes to hear her.

The meal began with a light beef broth, elegantly served in china bowls emblazoned with the ship’s insignia. On a less calm sea, those bowls would spill their contents all over the linen tablecloths, but tonight the bowls remained perfectly in place.

The gentlemen maintained the bulk of conversation, first complimenting each of the ladies and then discussing the voyage before drifting into talk of business. To each man’s delight, Amanda gave them her full attention, irritating Fiona even more.

At the first lull in the conversation, Fiona proclaimed, “This is the finest ship I have ever sailed on, Captain. Is it new?”

Her comment drew the desired attention from all the gentlemen at the table.

“I’m afraid not, Miss O’Keefe,” the captain said, “but it has been recently serviced. Do you sail often?”

“Recently, I sailed from New York City.” Fiona looked each man in the eye. “I was a rising star on the stage.”

That startled Pearl but intrigued the men, who asked where she had appeared.

“Smaller theaters,” Fiona replied, her color high. “As a soprano.”

Pearl wasn’t certain she believed the story, but it did make an impression on Mr. Holmes.

“What manner of songs did you sing?” the man asked.

Mr. Decker cleared his throat. “Wholesome songs, I imagine.”

His pointed look must have gotten through to Fiona, for she smiled coyly and replied, “But of course, gentlemen. I would never sing anything else.”

Though the men quickly returned to their business discussion, Pearl wondered at Fiona’s story. Why admit any alliance that could sully her reputation before the man she wanted to marry? A man seeking a wife certainly wouldn’t look in music halls. Yet there was a desperation in Fiona’s eyes that a man might miss. Regardless of the reason, this woman needed the marriage. That made her a dangerous opponent for Amanda.

Pearl glanced back at her friend, whose attention had flagged somewhat.

“Where do you hail from, Miss Lawson?” the captain asked.

Pearl reluctantly turned from her friend. “Amanda and I are also from New York.”

“New York?” Holmes bellowed above the din of conversation and flatware clinking against china. “Decker, you didn’t tell me you had to send to New York for a teacher.”

Mr. Decker took the comment in stride. “We want the most highly educated instructor for our children.”

Now that was peculiar. Hadn’t he said earlier that he didn’t even know they’d hired a new teacher? Now he claimed she possessed higher qualifications than she did. Though she’d studied hard, she didn’t have a university degree. That’s why she’d applied to a small, remote posting. They did not quibble over her credentials, yet here was Mr. Decker touting her education. Couple that with his request that she remind Holmes of her position, and she could not make heads nor tails of Mr. Decker.

He was gracious, charming and could talk a fish onto a hook. She would give him that. His stunning good looks couldn’t be denied, either. From perfectly chiseled cheekbones and jaw to impeccable attire, he was a sight to behold. Judging by the smooth cheeks and manicured haircut, he had visited the ship’s barber after seeing them this afternoon.

Yet he spoke with confidence of things he knew nothing about. Pearl couldn’t condone that. It was one shade short of stretching the truth, and she began to wonder if he was the right man for Amanda.

Or her. She pushed away that thought. Three women sought to marry Mr. Decker. She was not one of them.

Their steward removed her empty soup bowl and replaced it with a steaming plate that carried the most delicious smell. She closed her eyes and savored the delicate poached fish in a buttery sauce and steamed new potatoes dusted with parsley. Sautéed early carrots completed the plate.

Pearl had never eaten so well. It took every bit of restraint not to gobble down the fare. After each bite, she counted to thirty, smiled at Amanda, who was also reveling in the delicious food, and attempted to interject a comment into the conversation.

The captain had managed to engage Fiona, though she watched Mr. Decker like a hawk. When Amanda smiled at him, Fiona frowned. When Mr. Decker glanced in her direction, the redhead fluttered her eyelids.

Amanda, on the other hand, smiled at everything the men said but contributed nothing. That would not do. Pearl caught Amanda’s attention and motioned for her to speak. Amanda averted her gaze and took another bite of food. Now was no time for Amanda to succumb to her tendency toward shyness. If she didn’t say something soon, Mr. Decker would never notice her fine qualities.

Pearl seized a lull in the conversation to guide the gentleman’s attention in the proper direction. “Amanda is an accomplished pianist.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Holmes said.

Alas, the wrong man had seized the bait.

Amanda blushed. “Not so very accomplished.”

“Nonsense. You play Mozart beautifully, and that is not easy,” Pearl pointed out.

“Indeed,” Holmes said. “Do you also play hymns?”

Amanda brightened. “Yes. My favorite is ‘Amazing Grace.’”

That initiated a lively discussion in which Mr. Decker and Fiona O’Keefe did not participate. Pearl watched him closely. Either he had no favorite hymn or was not the churchgoing sort. For Amanda’s sake, she hoped it was the former.

Next came the dessert course, a delicious spiced cake with candied peaches. Pearl closed her eyes and let the flavors melt on her tongue. It might be years before she tasted such fare again, but one day she would wend her way west, where fortunes could still be made.

“Mr. Decker.” Fiona’s loud voice yanked Pearl from her reverie. The woman had managed to garner the entire table’s attention. “Have you made your choice yet?” She pointedly looked at Amanda and then Pearl.

Amanda gasped and covered her mouth. Pearl attempted to kick Fiona beneath the table but missed. The gentlemen stared with obvious confusion.

“My choice?” Mr. Decker’s lips stretched into a charming smile. “Coffee would be most appropriate after dessert, I believe.”

The gentlemen all chimed their agreement. Mr. Decker lifted his glass of water in a toast to the fine meal.

Fiona O’Keefe, however, could not be so easily diverted from her purpose. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Which one of us are you going to marry?”

Chapter Two

Roland gagged on a mouthful of water.

“What?” He coughed. Repeatedly. “Marry?”

“Yes, marry.” Fiona O’Keefe’s gaze bored into him. “You’ve met us. Now which one do you choose?”

What on earth had gotten into that woman? He had not once stated he was in the market for a wife, yet she seemed to think he was supposed to pick one this very instant. Moreover, this choice was supposed to come from some undefined group of women that he had supposedly met, and which clearly included her.

He took a gulp of water to give himself time to rein in his shock and replace it with the calm of a placid lake. “I believe there has been some mistake.”

“Don’t think you can wiggle out of this,” Fiona replied. “Pearl and Amanda and that Louise Smythe also want to know your answer.”

He instinctively looked to Pearl, whose lips were pressed into a grim line. Amanda, on the other hand, had paled to the point that he wondered if she would faint again. He searched his memory for the last woman mentioned. Smythe. Smythe. Ah, yes, the small mousy woman who lost her husband in the war. She was not at the table. Given Fiona’s obvious designs on him, he was surprised she mentioned the other women. By his count, that put the eager prospects at four.

Whatever those ladies were up to, he was not going to marry. Not now. Not in the foreseeable future. He couldn’t imagine where they’d gotten that idea. For a moment he recalled the fake advertisement he’d written as a joke to jolt his brother out of mourning, but he’d thrown that into the fire. None of them could possibly have seen it.

Judging by each woman’s rapt attention, they expected an answer.

Well, if there was one thing Roland Decker excelled at, it was his ability to escape from tight situations. No woman was going to snare him in her net.

So he guffawed and turned to Holmes. “Isn’t that like a woman, always looking for a husband?”

He could feel Fiona’s indignation boring into the side of his head.

Holmes, after an initial chuckle, turned serious. “Domestication never hurt a man.”

“Except when it cuts into his attention and time starting up and running a new operation,” Roland pointed out.

He took great care not to look any of the women in the eye, though he could not miss Amanda’s distress, for she was seated between him and Holmes. Moreover, Pearl shuffled in her seat. He could imagine the glare she’d fixed on him.

Instead of agreeing with him, Holmes continued to press his point. “A diligent wife understands the demands placed on her husband and assists him in every possible way.”

That wasn’t Roland’s experience. His brother’s late wife had placed demands on him. Eva had hated Singapore, hated his work, pleaded with him to move back to the city. Garrett had nearly caved in to her demands before the accident.

“Mr. Holmes is right,” Pearl chimed in, the high color dotting her cheeks mirroring the strands of red in her chestnut hair. “Marriage is a true partnership of like interests. Husband and wife working in unison can accomplish much more together than apart. Did not King Solomon note that a two-strand cord is stronger than one?”

Roland savored her persuasive determination. She might be a worthy partner—if he was in the market for a wife. But experience had taught him that words meant nothing. Promises made in the heat of first attraction vanished once the wedding bells stopped pealing.

“Clearly you have not been married, Miss Lawson,” Roland said.

That would have silenced most women. Not Pearl.

“Have you, Mr. Decker?”

He laughed. “Touché. I have witnessed many marriages, though.”

“And those have jaded you on the institution?”

“Let’s say I’ve seen its shortcomings.”

The captain cleared his throat. “Fascinating as this debate is, I am needed in the wheelhouse.” He rose. “Please excuse me, Miss O’Keefe. Miss Lawson. Miss Porter. Gentlemen.”

“Of course,” Pearl murmured.

Though the captain had admirably engaged Fiona O’Keefe most of the evening, his departure now set her attention squarely on Roland. “You did not answer my question, Mr. Decker.”

He folded his napkin and set it on the table. “I thought I did, but if you must hear it plainly, I am not in the market for a wife.” He rose. “The day has been long, and tomorrow I must rise early to attend to business. I bid you good night, ladies.”

* * *

“What are we going to do?” Amanda whispered to Pearl when they’d reached the promenade deck.

Pearl scrambled to come up with an answer. Mr. Decker’s denial might have disheartened Amanda, but it infuriated her. After the first flush of selfish excitement that he was not interested in Fiona, the full import of his words struck home. He did not want to marry anyone. Yet he had placed an advertisement in a New York newspaper.

What sort of man did such a thing? She had thought him solicitous and compassionate, not the type who would tempt women to leave their lives behind only to disavow he’d ever suggested they do so. If not for the many diners surrounding them and for Amanda’s fragile state, she would have given Mr. Decker a piece of her mind.

He must have sensed the imminent danger. That’s why he’d left so quickly. Good riddance, in her estimation. However, that did not ease Amanda’s distress. Pearl had to set aside her anger and find a way to soothe her friend. So, she paused at the railing and took a deep breath.

Overhead, stars sprinkled the moonless sky. The seas were still calm, and the Milwaukee plied the water with ease. The night temperatures were pleasant. Under other circumstances, they might while away the hours pointing out the constellations. Instead she must find some way to turn wormy crab apples into apple pie.

Pearl made her decision in an instant. “We continue on to Singapore.” She hoped her certainty would bolster her friend’s rapidly sinking hopes. “Something good will come of this. I’m certain of it.”

“How can you be so sure? Not only did Mr. Decker not expect us, but he doesn’t want to marry. What happened? Was the advertisement a cruel joke?”

Pearl could not tell her that she’d begun to think it was. Possible explanations tumbled through her head. The most far-fetched she discarded at once, but one lodged and refused to let go. Mr. Decker had claimed that marriage would take away from running a new business. What if the promise of marriage was simply a ploy to bring inexpensive labor to Singapore? What if he was the worst sort of scoundrel, someone who would take advantage of a woman when she was at her most vulnerable?

No, she couldn’t let herself think that. She certainly couldn’t allow Amanda’s thoughts to drift in that direction.

“We will get by,” she said firmly. “My new position includes room and board. We will share the room and make do on my earnings.”

“But you wanted to save enough to go to California.”

Pearl shoved aside that dream. Friends were more important. She had been abandoned by her parents. She would not abandon her friend.

She squeezed Amanda’s hand. “That can wait until we sort this all out.”

“I will find a job,” Amanda declared. “I can be a ladies’ maid.”

Pearl doubted there were many frontier ladies needing that sort of maid, but she didn’t point it out. “You do keep a tidy house and sew beautifully.”

“I love to sew, but do you think anyone will need a seamstress?”

“We won’t speculate on what people do or don’t need. We’ll trust that things will turn out for the best.”

“All things will work together for good for those who love the Lord,” Amanda said, paraphrasing scripture. “We must rely on that.”

“Yes, we must.” Pearl drew in a deep breath. Perhaps her friend was stronger than she appeared. “I’m tired and tomorrow will be busy. Shall we go below to find a spot to sleep?” Third class granted them passage but not sleeping quarters or a meal.

“Let’s not. It’s so noisy with everyone squeezed in there. I’d rather stand here and look at the stars.”

Pearl had to agree. “We will search for some chairs, then, or a spot on the upper deck, and lift our gaze to the skies. You’ll see. In the morning, everything will seem better.”

Especially after she cornered Mr. Decker.

* * *

Morning dawned with scarcely a breeze. The cloudless sky stretched overhead like a blank canvas. This day would usher in a new life for Pearl as a schoolteacher. The prospect excited her even while she kept watch for the man who had crushed her dear friend’s hopes.

Pearl stood at the railing with Amanda, their carpetbags at their feet, as the ship glided toward the mouth of a river guarded by a small lighthouse. Shimmering dunes rose on either side, dotted by clumps of green. Grass or shrubs, she guessed. Any trees were hidden from view behind the sand hills. In both directions the shoreline stretched unbroken except for a small, smoke-belching enterprise a distance to the north. If not for the lighthouse, she would think they were headed into the wilderness.

“How pretty.” Amanda sighed. “I wonder where the town is.”

Pearl wondered that, too. The marriage advertisement had promised a booming town. The employment posting had proclaimed a “bright future in the next Chicago.” She saw no sign of habitation, least of all a thriving city.

“It must be upriver.” At least Pearl hoped it was. She could manage the wilderness, but Amanda deserved a more genteel life. Despite Amanda’s labors in the Chatsworth household, she was ill-equipped for backbreaking drudgery. The Chatsworths kept several servants, including a housekeeper and cook. Rather than being taken in as a daughter, Amanda had worked, but she had never taken on the care of an entire family. Pearl gripped the rail, for the first time doubting her decision to convince Amanda to join her.

Her friend’s fragile hope had been dashed last night by yet another unfeeling man. First she’d suffered Hugh’s unconscionable jilting. Now Garrett Decker had dismissed her. Just thinking of the man made Pearl’s blood boil.