My giggle turned into loud guffaws from the depths of my belly, and I didn’t even try to collect myself. I just let go. It felt wonderful, a great purging of weeks of stress. John stared at me and then began to laugh himself until we were both lost in helpless mirth. When we regained our composure, the mood in the cabin had shifted. There was a hum of something new, something amorphous. We were suddenly very aware of the closeness of our bodies. John leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. They were soft and gentle, and I lost myself for a moment until I remembered how inappropriate it all was—us sitting alone together, drinking, in a state of undress. My mind flashed back to the night of Hari’s party, and panic prickled my skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away.
“No, I am,” John said, getting up and walking over to the servant’s room. “You have my bed, I’ll bunk in here.” He shut the door firmly between us.
I lay awake listening to the howling storm and thinking of John just on the other side of the door. An hour or so before a dim grey dawn, the wind diminished, and I finally nodded off. When I awoke, I could tell by the roll of the ship that the storm had subsided. John was still sound asleep. In spite of feeling sore from head to toe, I hurriedly dressed and slipped from his room.
When I got back to our cabin, Hari was sitting up in bed, a sheepish look on her face, and Dr. Carson was packing up his medical bag. A worried look passed between us. I knew what he was thinking. Where had Hari gotten the drugs and how could we prevent another overdose? I had no answers but resolved to get some, and soon.
Chapter Twenty-seven
By the time the seas were completely calm again, Harriet had regained most of her strength and I made a point of confiscating her vials of laudanum, but not before demanding she tell me where she got them.
“You are guileless, aren’t you, Char?” Harriet said wearily. “So trusting. Once I found out you were working with Carson, I knew he would have given you keys to the surgery. It was easy enough to find it in your trunk, the trunk you rarely remember to lock.”
My face reddened in shame. It was my lack of forethought that had caused this. I went to my trunk and rummaged for the keys, which I then tucked into my pocket. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. There was still something that was bothering me about Harriet’s actions.
I stood in the doorway of the main room and studied her lying on the bed. “After all you did to overcome your dependency, why slip back?”
“I’ve needed help to cope with the divorce.”
“I know it’s been hard, but burying your pain in drugs is not coping.”
“I had no other way. I’m not like you. I have nothing else in my life. Being Charles’s wife was everything. It was who I was, my identity. You have your books, your love of animals, and your interest in medicine. You could be perfectly happy as an unmarried woman.”
I detected a note of jealousy in her voice, and I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Hari, you once told me that women define themselves through marriage. That’s not true. The emigrant women taught me that. They are single and have endured hardship we’ll never know, and yet they have made lives for themselves. They’ll arrive in the New World with nothing but the spirit and resolve to start fresh and make the most of the opportunity.”
Hari’s eyes welled up with tears, but I wasn’t through.
“You have more than most. It’s time to forget Charles and your old life. You have me, and together we can create a good future for ourselves.” I held up the keys for her to see. “These are going back to Dr. Carson today. You won’t be getting any more laudanum from me or Dr. Carson.”
Harriet sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I don’t even want it anymore. It doesn’t comfort me like it used to.”
It was a relief to hear her say that, and I wanted to believe that she was coming out of her depression, but I would have to wait and see.
In the following days, I didn’t have much time to spend with Harriet as the storm had wreaked havoc on the rest of the crew and passengers, and Dr. Carson needed my help with injuries and unsettled stomachs. I ignored my own aching limbs and soldiered on while my bruises healed. I was relieved that Sarah and little Jacob had made it through all right. But there was no denying that everyone was desperate to be on land once again. Fortunately, we didn’t have too long to wait. Within the week, we would be in Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands and its coaling station, the first of two more scheduled stops on our journey, and then we would finally be allowed to leave the ship.
We smelled the land before we saw it. It was mid-July, so winter in the southern hemisphere. It was cool but sunny, and after a month and a half at sea, the intoxicating smell of earth, grass, and newly overturned fallow fields rejuvenated our tired bodies like a tonic.
When someone cried out that they had spotted the lighthouse at Cape Pembroke, I ran to my cabin for my opera glasses.
“Harriet, we’re nearly there,” I cried. “Shall we go ashore together? I’ve written Wiggles, and I should like to post the letter.” I also was eager to see if there was any news from her. She would have heard about Charles and Harriet by now, and I longed for her advice.
Harriet nodded, but she took her time dressing properly before joining me on deck. That didn’t bother
