Mercy didn’t know how to respond, could feel the critical eyes of the other women upon her. Some shunned her, believing she’d tainted herself with Joseph during the voyage. Others resented that a rich man like Joseph had singled her out and treated her specially.

Of the women in the barracks, only Miss Lawrence had continued to treat her kindly. Even now, the beautiful gentlewoman brushed a hand across Mercy’s shoulder. Miss Lawrence had volunteered to help Mrs. Moresby with the sewing class and was circling around giving instructions.

Mercy gave the woman a grateful nod.

Miss Lawrence smiled her encouragement, as if to let Mercy know she’d done the right thing in saying good-bye to Joseph and letting him go, no matter how hard it had been.

Tears stung Mercy’s eyes, but she kept her attention on her needle and thread, even though she couldn’t see them clearly anymore. She had done the right thing last night. Certainly she had.

Mrs. Moresby clucked, then shook her head and handed one of the women a seam ripper. “Your stitches are too big. Take them out and try again.”

At a knock against the parlor door, Mercy looked up in time to see the constable who helped guard the complex. His eyes darted to one of the women, and they exchanged shy smiles.

“Yes?” Mrs. Moresby inquired.

All traces of the constable’s smile quickly vanished, his expression turning severe. “A messenger came with a letter for Miss Wilkins, ma’am. Said to deliver it to her straightaway.”

Mercy shot up from her chair, letting the shirt she’d been hemming fall to a heap on the floor. “I’m Miss Wilkins.”

The constable retrieved something from his inner coat pocket and held it out to Mercy.

“Who is it from, Constable?” Mrs. Moresby demanded with a stern slant of her gaze.

“Don’t rightly know, ma’am. But I was paid well to deliver it directly into the hands of Miss Wilkins herself.”

If anyone could pay well, Joseph could.

Mercy’s pulse sputtered faster. Mrs. Moresby was watching her, and she nodded as if coming to the same conclusion.

Was Joseph at the front door this very minute?

Anticipation began to break through the cracks of Mercy’s heart. Had he come back for her after all?

She crossed to the constable, took the letter, and raced out of the room and down the hallway. As she stepped outside, her heart threatened to beat through her chest.

The morning sunshine was brilliant and sparkled off the bay, turning the calm waters into a glittering display of jewels, blinding her for an instant.

“Joseph?” she called, holding her breath, waiting for him to appear out of the shadows, to step up to the fence with a grin. But the area was empty of the usual men who lingered to get glimpses of the women.