He shoved away from the wall and from her, groping for the square opening that led into steerage. He must stay in control and act upon all he knew to be right. For he’d meant what he told Mercy that day he refuted the rumors about having her as his mistress. He wouldn’t use a woman in such a way, now or ever.

Without waiting for her to trail after him, he wound his way through steerage and the huddling mass of passengers. The swaying motion below was worse than above, and he had to clutch one bunk after another to guide him as he moved forward. He only needed to follow the anguished screams to know where to find Mrs. Donovan.

Once he reached the bedside, he set to work lighting a lantern. And as he lifted it and saw the bloodstained mattress beneath the writhing woman, he prayed he wasn’t too late.

sixteen

Mercy wiped blood from her hands and extended the towel to Joseph. He took it wordlessly without looking at her and began to clean the blood from his hands. In the violently swinging lantern light, his expression was severe, his muscles taut.

Over the past hour, he’d spoken to her only when giving instructions and hadn’t set his eyes upon her, not even for an instant. Not since their encounter when they’d entered steerage and he’d fallen against her, when he’d slanted his head and looked at her mouth as though he had every intention of pressing into her even further and kissing her.

She hadn’t been repulsed and hadn’t wanted to pull away. In fact, she’d surprised herself with the need to feel his lips against hers. She’d never kissed a man before, never desired it, had never expected to desire it. Not with her resolve to abstain from relationships with men.

Then why now? And why with Joseph?

“Thank ye, Doctor,” Mr. Donovan said again, clamping down on Joseph’s shoulder. They both swayed and nearly went down with the tilt of the boat. Mercy grabbed on to the beam of the bed to keep from toppling.

All throughout the long delivery, as Joseph worked to turn the babe so it would be born safely, Mrs. Donovan’s screams of agony had drowned out everything else. Mercy had hardly noticed the churning of the ship or the water seeping in from the walls or the creaking of the dripping beams overhead.

But with Mrs. Donovan happily cradling her newborn babe, Mercy was well aware of the deteriorating conditions and the raging of the storm as she struggled to stay on her feet.

“They’ve battened down the hatches, that they have,” Mr. Donovan said. “You won’t be climbin’ above until the storm’s over.”

Joseph nodded and glanced around, seeming to assess everyone. “I was aware that might happen when I came down here.”