Joseph fingered the silver band in his coat pocket. He’d retrieved Sarah’s ring from under the bed and was determined to give it back to Mercy. But he needed to find a way to speak with her privately, not only to give her the ring but also to beg for her forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it, but he was cut to the quick to think that she now regarded him poorly for ill-using her when he’d vowed he wouldn’t.

He’d rehearsed his apology on a dozen occasions. Guilt had a way of making a man into a poet.

The sailors began to tilt the plank. Sarah’s body, weighted with a lead beam, slid quietly away and, an instant later, splashed into the sea. The waves then rose up to swallow her, and she sank out of sight.

Somberly the passengers watched, some crossing themselves, others dabbing at their eyes.

The captain spoke the last words of the service. “‘Through our Lord Jesus Christ, at whose second coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the sea shall give up her dead. The corruptible bodies of those who sleep in Him shall be changed and made like unto His glorious body.’”

“Amen,” Joseph whispered along with the others gathered there.

As the crowd began to disperse, Joseph watched Mercy and the remaining girls from her cabin amble away.

“I know you tried valiantly to save her, Lord Colville,” Captain Hellyer said. “I hate to lose anyone, but we can be grateful that whatever ailed her wasn’t contagious.”

In his navy coat, military trousers, and sharp black hat, the captain remained dignified and impeccable even after weeks at sea. His graying beard and mustache were neatly trimmed and his keen eyes kind.

“Yes, Captain,” Joseph replied. “We most certainly can be grateful we lost no one else.”

Mercy had been spared, and yet somehow he felt as though he’d lost her anyway.

Joseph couldn’t stop from seeking her out again, surrounded by the other brides, as she returned to her portion of the ship. He considered going directly to her cabin and asking to have a word with her. But he suspected she wouldn’t leave her room, and he certainly didn’t want the young women in her charge to hear what he had to say.

“A word, Lord Colville?” the captain said.

Something in the man’s tone brought Joseph’s head around.

“I may speak to you freely, may I not?” Captain Hellyer asked. At their spot on the quarterdeck, they were alone except for the helmsman at the wheel.

“Of course.”

“The woman. Do you love her?”

The captain’s question took Joseph aback so that he nearly stumbled. “The woman?”

“The one you can’t take your eyes from.” The captain nodded in Mercy’s direction. “Do you love her?”

“Come now, Captain. That’s rather personal.”

“It’s clear she has turned your head.”