“Lady Carlyle heard it directly from one of her friends, who is on the board of the Columbia Mission Society. Apparently, the committee received a letter from Reverend Lundin Brown, a missionary in British Columbia, asking the society to send good Christian women to marry the men there. With the influx of miners and other settlers, there simply aren’t enough women in the colony for the men to marry.”

Joseph shook his head. “You cannot believe everything you hear, Aunt Pen.”

“But I have it on good word, Joseph, that the Tynemouth is taking aboard sixty single women. Why else would they be going, if not to become brides?”

Sixty single women? If his aunt’s gossip was true, why hadn’t Captain Hellyer mentioned it?

“If no other reason will persuade you to abandon your plans to set sail, you must let this one change your course.” His aunt laid a steadying hand upon his arm, her expression grave. “The situation is positively scandalous, and you cannot involve yourself in it.”

By scandalous, his aunt was referring to the nature of the women involved, likely those drawn from the lowest strata of society and of the basest nature. Surely Captain Hellyer wouldn’t agree to command a ship containing thieves and prostitutes?

All the more reason to arrive in Dartmouth ahead of the passengers, so that he could clarify with the captain the precise makeup of their transport.

“You see,” Aunt Pen went on, taking his silence as confirmation that he was as appalled as she, “you’re meant to stop running away and stay home.”

“Not you too.” Joseph tried to lighten the conversation with a smile.

“So I’m not the first to accuse you of running away from all that happened to you?” she said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek.

Her motherly touch opened a painful abyss inside him. He stood at the precipice and tottered, longing to give in, to let himself fall into the darkness.

“I have to go.” He moved down a step, breaking free of his aunt’s gentle hold. He didn’t want to consider her accusation of running away any more than he had Bates’s.

Once again, tears welled in her eyes.

“You have no need to fret,” Joseph assured. “I’ve been informed that the Tynemouth will carry close to three hundred passengers. If sixty of them are single women, they’ll be of no more consequence to me than any of the other two hundred passengers and crew.”

“I pray you are right,” she replied.

Whether the ship was full of single women or not, he wouldn’t be swayed. Whether he was running away or not, he didn’t care. Nothing would keep him from being aboard the Tynemouth when she set sail next week.