The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,75

the boat and let me off!”

The steamer lurched from its moorings and Kirsty would have tumbled to her knees if it hadn’t been for Mr. Watson catching her by the elbows.

“I’m af-fraid,” he said. “That will be impos-sible. We’re underway, it seems.”

“Oh, no,” she said and looked up at him, feeling tears gather in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. Her family even accused her occasionally of crying to get her way which was hardly ever the case and certainly wasn’t now. But she dare not blink or those tears she did not want to cry would tumble down her cheeks.

“Perhaps a cup of t-tea would help you, Miss Thompson. Allow me to take you to the d-d-dining room.”

“But I must get off this boat,” she said. “My family won’t have any idea where I’ve gone and . . . and they will be so worried.”

“I don’t b-believe there is anything we can do until we land at New York har-harbor,” he said and held out his arm.

Kirsty wrapped her arm around his and looked up at him. “Oh. Oh, no. I’ve embarrassed you with my shouting. Your face is quite red. I am so sorry. Please don’t be angry.”

He shook his head. “I’m not angry,” he said very slowly.

Kirsty turned as he did towards the doors leading to the inside hallways after glancing longingly at the dock. He seated her at a small table once they were in the dining room and signaled a waiter. He nodded at her to order. She opened her drawstring bag to see what amount of money she had left after paying for the trolley that morning. She was suddenly panicked when she realized she’d have to find a way to travel to Philadelphia from New York when this infernal boat stopped, and she’d need money to do it.

“Nothing for me, thank you,” she said to the waiter.

“I’ll have coffee and this assortment of cheese and olives listed on your menu,” he said. “The lady will have tea. Thank you.”

She leaned forward. “I don’t have enough money to pay for it. Surely they’ll give me a glass of water.”

“Miss T-Thompson. I will take care of the b-bill. Please don’t worry,” he said and raised his hand again as if he was calling to the waiter again.

But a young, very young, red haired man walked to their table. His face had an unsightly burn scar on one side and Kirsty did her best not to look at it as he arrived at the table. She wondered if Mr. Watson knew him.

“Clawson,” Watson said. “Change of plans. You’ll need to contact the Royal Academy and see about rescheduling my talk.”

“Yes, sir, right away, sir.”

“We’ll be staying in New York overnight. We’ll need three rooms at the New York Hotel.”

“Three rooms, sir?”

“One for you, one for me, and one for Miss Thompson,” he said and nodded to her. “Clawson? This is Miss Thompson. Miss Thompson? My assistant, Mr. Clawson.”

“A hotel room? Oh, no! I’ll be heading directly to home. I have to get home. My family will be frantic!”

“Miss Thompson. I d-doubt we’ll be able to catch a train after we arrive. We’ll have to wait until t-tomorrow morning.”

“Do you always take a steamer to New York? Isn’t it easier to catch the train?”

“Aah,” Clawson said. “I’ll need to see if our tickets can be cancelled or sold, perhaps.”

Kirsty watched the young man hurry away. “What did he mean about the tickets being sold? What tickets?”

Mr. Watson stared at her and then looked up at the waiter bringing their cheese platter and pots of coffee and tea. He pulled several bills out of his wallet, handed it to the waiter, and told him to keep the change. He stirred several sugar cubes into the cup of coffee the waiter poured for him before leaving the table and looked up at her.

“Tickets for a t-transatlantic crossing.”

“Why would you cancel your tickets? When were you planning on sailing?” she asked, interested to know if the date could work for her although after she arrived home tomorrow, she doubted if her older sister and brother, Muireall and James, would ever let her out of their sight.

“Tomorrow, Miss T-Thompson. This steamer stops in New York to pick up additional p-p-passengers and then goes directly to England.”

“Well, why can’t you go now? Has something happened?”

He stared at his cup for some time. “I can hardly allow you to t-travel by yourself, Miss Thompson. I will see you b-back to your home.”

Kirsty