Mercy trembled to think what Mrs. Robb would do if she discovered Mercy’s visit down into steerage and the short while she’d sat on the deck with the doctor and sipped his coffee. Even if Mrs. Robb had given Mercy leave to fetch him, she certainly wouldn’t approve of such familiarity. If Mrs. Robb found out, she’d put Mercy on the first ship back to London. Or perhaps even throw Mercy overboard.

“Surely you can understand the need to make an exception in the case of illness,” Dr. Colville said. “As Miss Lawrence is confined in a different part of the ship, and you’re busy with your duties here, she has need not only for a nurse but also a chaperone.”

Silence stretched in which the creaking of the ship reminded them that their voyage was at the mercy of the ocean and its ever-changing temperament.

“Very well, Doctor,” Mrs. Robb said reluctantly.

“Perhaps one of my daughters?” Mr. Scott offered. “They are almost recovered—”

Dr. Colville cut off the man. “I would like the assistance of Mercy Wilkins, if she is so agreeable.”

At the mention of her name, Mercy sucked in a breath. In the same moment, the girls nudged Mercy.

“Mercy?” Mrs. Robb’s voice rang with surprise.

“She has already proven to be a capable nurse,” Dr. Colville added. “She has quickly learned to ride the ship and has a strong stomach.”

Warmth radiated through Mercy at the words of praise. The girls elbowed her again, clearly as flustered by the unusual attention as she was.

“My lord,” Mr. Scott said, his voice laced with concern, “our dearest Miss Lawrence will most certainly want to have another gentlewoman at her attendance, not a ruffian pulled from the streets.”

The comment was like a splash of icy seawater against Mercy’s skin. She froze as the warmth of the doctor’s words was dashed away by the reality of who she was and her place in the world.

“Have a care, Mr. Scott.” Dr. Colville’s tone hardened. “If not for Miss Wilkins’s untiring devotion during the gale, many more of your women would be in the same position as Miss Lawrence.”

“Of course, of course, my lord,” Mr. Scott rushed to reply. “You are indeed right as usual. The young girl of whom we speak is stalwart in nature. Nevertheless, are you certain you do not wish for a more genteel woman to be at your disposal? My daughters have oft spoken of their wish to serve you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott. But I need an assistant, not a companion.”

“Very well then, Doctor,” Mrs. Robb interjected. “We shall send Mercy to nurse Miss Lawrence straightaway.”

“My sincerest gratitude.” The sound of Dr. Colville’s footsteps faded, leaving only the rush of the wind and the never-ending crash of the waves against the hull.