At the sound of a nearby door unlatching, Mercy’s eyes widened, and she backed hastily away. “I’m much obliged, sir.” She pushed the door again to close it. And this time he didn’t have the heart to force her to keep it open. He stepped back and allowed it to shut completely.

“Lord Colville?” Mr. Scott called from the second-class cabins down the deck. “May I be of aid to your lordship?”

“No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Scott.” Joseph had no wish for a confrontation with the reverend so early in the morning. He strode back toward the rope, hoping to get away before the man could consume his time and attention. Although Mr. Scott was a decent fellow, there were times, like now, when Joseph would rather be horsewhipped than forced to carry on small talk with him.

“Have you need of an assistant at this early hour?” Mr. Scott persisted, apparently realizing whose cabin Joseph had been visiting. His short, choppy steps resounded on the deck behind Joseph. “As always, I offer you one of my daughters. They are most eager to learn nursing skills and would be heartily pleased to spend time under your esteemed tutelage.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.” Joseph slipped under the rope. “But I have no need for an assistant this morn. Good day.” He tipped his hat and proceeded forward.

If by some chance he needed help, the first person he wanted was Mercy. In fact, she was the only one he wanted.

Sitting on the deck, leaning against the cabin wall, Mercy sniffed her fingers. The sweetness of the orange still lingered on her hands even hours after she’d eaten it. She needed to thank Joseph for the treat, but as hard as it was, she couldn’t give in to the desire to meet with him. No, she couldn’t risk being seen with him again.

“I ain’t never had duck,” Ann said as she plucked the feathers of one of the wildfowl the men had shot while hiking around Port Stanley. They’d brought so many of the game birds back to the ship that they were more than willing to share the bounty with everyone. Not for the first time did Mercy wish she could give some to Patience and the rest of her family at home.

“I haven’t either,” Mercy replied. She captured a handful of the soft feathers and stuffed them into one of the mattresses she’d dragged from their cabin. She’d emptied some of the straw that had become flat and rotten from the days of sweating and seasickness, hoping to freshen their beds with the feathers.