Mercy finished unbuttoning and slid the gown over Miss Lawrence’s shoulders. She nearly gasped at the sight that met her. The chemise couldn’t hide the vibrant red welts and bruises covering the woman’s back. Miss Lawrence looked as if she’d been recently whipped with a cat-o’-nine-tails. Some of the lacerations had opened up and were scabbed over, while others were still raw.

The gentlewoman stiffened as Mercy gently peeled the layers of her garments away but didn’t say anything.

What had happened to this poor lamb? Had she been attacked by an angry mob?

Mercy waited several heartbeats for Miss Lawrence to give an explanation. But when she offered nothing, Mercy knew she had to say something. “You must be a right strong woman to hold up against whatever happened to you.”

“I took a tumble while out riding.” Miss Lawrence spoke quickly—too quickly—almost as if she’d rehearsed her answer. “’Tis of no consequence and will mend soon enough.”

Mercy didn’t know much about horse riding. But whatever had happened to this woman hadn’t been an accident. She’d clearly been attacked. But by whom, and for what reason?

She bathed Miss Lawrence as tenderly as she could and then helped her into a clean gown, taking care to leave the fastenings loose. When Miss Lawrence was finally attired, Mercy worked at untangling the woman’s hair and washing the vomit out of it. She brushed and plaited it simply so that it hung down her back and out of the way of any further seasickness.

“Thank you,” Miss Lawrence said as Mercy settled her back into the bed. “You have been very kind.”

“Think nothing of it, miss.” Mercy propped up the gentlewoman with pillows.

Miss Lawrence winced at the contact against her back. “I should not like anyone else to know about my accident. I pray you will be discreet?”

“’Course, miss. You’ve got nothing to worry about with me.”

Miss Lawrence tugged the collar of her gown up over the mark on her neck. When she realized Mercy was watching her, she dropped her hands into her lap. “You seem to be a strong woman, Mercy. How is it you can withstand the ship’s tossing and turning so well?”

“Not sure why some are stronger than others, miss. My sister always said if we’re stronger in body, that just means we’ve got more responsibility from the good Lord to take care of any who are weaker.”

Weariness settled over Miss Lawrence’s pretty but gaunt features, and the same shadow of pain from earlier flickered in her eyes—a pain that went much deeper than just physical. Mercy had no doubt this woman was suffering in both body and soul.