Another Country by Kate Hewitt Read Free Book Online Page A

at Eleanor
pleadingly, all traces of the haughty princess wiped away. “I
washed her face a bit. But it was so...”
    “I know what it was. But the fact of the matter is,
we’re the only ones not cast down by seasickness. It’s up to us to
take care of the others, Caroline Reid.”
    Caroline shook her head, her face leached of color.
“I can’t...”
    “You can,” Eleanor said firmly. “And so can I. It
won’t be easy, I warrant, but we’ll have to work together.” The
very idea made her skeptical, for Caroline Reid was surely the last
person she would’ve chosen as a helpmate. Still, there were no
other choices, and so, with a grim sigh, Eleanor began to roll up
the sleeves of her dinner gown.
    “You’d best do the same,” she warned Caroline.
“Unless you want it sullied beyond all cleaning.”
    “This is my second best gown!” Caroline fairly
yelped, and Eleanor spared her a wry smile.
    “Then you ought to change.” She couldn’t blame
Caroline for who she was; the girl had obviously been sheltered her
whole life. Still, Eleanor felt a not unkind blaze of satisfaction
that just like her, Caroline Reid was going to have to get her
hands dirty.
    Several hours later, bent over a foul smelling sick
pail, Eleanor realized they were getting far more dirty than just
their hands. Mrs. Standish had vomited three times, twice on
Eleanor. She was exhausted, sweaty, and worst of all, she
stank.
    She’d given Caroline the charge of watching Miss
Cabot, since she knew her, although also in part because the
chaperone seemed the least ill, and Eleanor thought Caroline had
the best chance of coping with her.
    Eleanor moved the pail to the door, glad to notice
that the rough movements of the ship had slowed, and the pail’s
contents did not slosh onto the floor. A glimpse out the port hole
showed a livid sky, but the ocean beneath had begun to calm its
restless, angry surging.
    As she sponged down Mrs. Standish’s face once again,
Caroline appeared in the doorway of the cabin, wringing her
hands.
    “I can’t do it,” she said shrilly. “I can’t. I
won’t. I hate the smell, the sickness, I won’t do it!” Her voice
rose to a shriek before she dissolved into inelegant, noisy
sobs.
    Eleanor watched her for a moment
before walking over and calmly slapping her on the face.
    Caroline’s sobs cut off mid-gulp and she gaped in
surprised. Eleanor wondered if anyone had ever raised a hand to her
before.
    “You were hysterical,” she said. “Or nearly, and we
haven’t time to indulge in such senseless wailing. Miss Cabot and
the others depend on you, as well as me, to make it safely across
this accursed ocean, so you’d best be on hand.”
    There was a moment of silence, fairly pulsing with
tension, and Eleanor wondered if Caroline would rebuke her,
dissolve into more wails, or preferably, stiffen her spine.
    Caroline, to her credit, chose the latter, and
nodded in mute acceptance.
    “Go see to Miss Cabot,” Eleanor said gently. “If
she’s comfortable, you might as well get some sleep.”
    Caroline looked again as if she longed to protest,
bitterly, but she simply nodded again and left the room.
    From the bed, Mrs. Standish let out a feeble moan.
“Water...”
    It took three more days of nearly constant nursing
before the ailing women had finally found their sea legs, and
Eleanor and Caroline could find some rest.
    Even after a sponge bath, her dresses stiff and
salty from being washed in ocean water, Eleanor felt unclean. This
was hardly the way she’d intended to begin her new life in America,
but there was little she could do about it.
    They were a day’s journey off Boston Harbor as she
sat in her cabin, attempting to mend the worst of the rents and
tears in her dresses.
    A hesitant knock sounded at the door, and when
Eleanor bid enter, Caroline peeked her head around the oak
frame.
    “The captain said we should see land tomorrow,” she
said breathlessly. “It’s been a fearful journey, hasn’t