The gentlemen applauded Jocelyn’s win, some with more vigor than others. She understood why a few moments later when they exchanged small sums of money.
The governor rose and extended his hand over the chessboard. “Well played, Mrs. Finch. I hope you will allow me the opportunity to redeem myself in a rematch during your stay in Halifax.”
As they shook hands, Jocelyn lowered her voice for his ears alone while the others were discussing their wagers. “I shall be honored to play you again, sir, if that is your wish. But the outcome of this match does not impugn your skill. We both know you allowed me to win.”
He made no effort to release her hand. “For the sake of my pride, I wish I could claim that were so, but I assure you it is not. In my arrogance, I yielded you an advantage, but you had the skill and resource to capitalize upon it. You are a formidable opponent, ma’am.”
Over the years Jocelyn had received many of the usual compliments gentlemen lavished upon ladies. Tributes to her beauty, her charm, her accomplishment, even her wit. Why then did Sir Robert’s bald, grudging scrap of praise set her insides aflutter? Or was it the warmth of his hand as he clung to hers, only now letting it go?
She was done with such feelings, Jocelyn insisted to herself. And she resented the governor for provoking them, though she knew it had never been his intention.
“You have only begun to see my formidable nature, sir. I mean to prove you wrong about the bride ship—that it will be an unmixed blessing to your colony.”
“I hope you will succeed, ma’am.” He did not look by any means convinced that she would. “For the sake of the colony, I sincerely hope so.”
Chapter Five
T he waters of the harbor were calm and mild fog wrapped around the Hestia when Colonel and Mrs. Carmont dropped Jocelyn off at the wharf late that afternoon.
“How can I begin to thank you for all your help?” She squeezed Sally’s hand. “If not for you, I would be headed back to England in disgrace.”
“It was a pleasure,” Sally assured her. “And most diverting to watch you get the best of Governor Kerr.”
“Now, Sally,” her husband protested, “I’ve told you before, you must not be so hard on the poor man. He may be a bit too sober for your taste, but he is an excellent fellow who has done a great deal of good for the colony.”
“For the settlers, perhaps.” Sally’s pert tone told Jocelyn she enjoyed teasing her husband. “But Halifax society has been unbearably dull since he took office. I feel certain that is about to change for the better.”
“You, my dear wife, live entirely for pleasure,” Will Carmont scolded fondly.
Sally chuckled. “That is better than living for misery, don’t you think?”
“You have me there!” The colonel patted his wife’s hand.
The good-natured domestic banter between the Carmonts brought a pang of longing to Jocelyn’s heart. It reminded her so much of the way she and Ned had carried on in the early days of their marriage.
“Why don’t you come and have a celebratory dinner at our house?” asked Sally.
“Thank you for the offer, but I had better not.” Jocelyn endeavored to sound brisk and cheerful as she nodded toward the ship, swathed in a ghostly mist. “I must waste no time telling my girls the news. They have likely been at sixes and sevens ever since I left.”
Her guess proved true. Before she could get a word out, half a dozen girls had tattled to her about the behavior of the others. Louisa looked as though she had not stopped crying the whole time Jocelyn had been away. And poor Lily looked ready to tear her hair out.
“Please, Mrs. Finch,” she begged as soon as she could get a word in, “what’s to become of us? Has it been decided yet? May we stay in Nova Scotia or will we have to leave?”
Grasping Lily’s hand, Jocelyn cried, “We can stay!”
A sweet thrill of success bubbled within her, even more potent than when she had placed Sir Robert’s king in checkmate.
Her news provoked a torrent of questions.
“How did you convince the governor?”
“Where are we to stay?”
“Can we get off the ship now?”
That question almost caused a stampede toward the galleyway.
Jocelyn had to shout to make herself heard over the din. “Not tonight, I’m afraid!”
A deafening chorus of wails and groans filled the hold.
“Hush now!” Jocelyn covered her ears to drown out the din. “One more night aboard ship will not kill us. It is certainly better than several more weeks on a return voyage to England.”
Perhaps the girls heard an implied threat in her reminder, for a chastened hush fell over them.
Jocelyn seized the moment. “Speaking of sleep, I think we had all better get some. Tomorrow will be a busy day. The governor has offered us the use of his summer estate just outside of town.”
When some of the girls grumbled at the thought of lodging in the country, she added, “His Royal Highness, the Duke of Kent lived there for several years when he was stationed in Halifax.”
“Royal lodgings?” Lily sounded suitably impressed. “What an honor for us! And how very kind of the governor.”
Was it kind? Jocelyn wondered, even as she nodded. She had won Sir Robert’s agreement to let them stay in Nova Scotia, but she knew better than to suppose he would give her his full support. Did he hope that by settling her and her charges on the edge of town, they would be out of sight and out of mind?
What she had not told the girls about the Prince’s Lodge was that the Duke of Kent had lived there quite openly with his French mistress. The place must have a rather tainted reputation on that account. And what sort of housekeeping arrangements would they find there tomorrow? Did the governor hope to make their stay so unpleasant they would be forced to leave?
Those worries plagued Jocelyn through the night, but her spirits lifted as soon as she stepped out on deck the next morning. Golden spring sunshine had burned off the fog. Now it shimmered on the dark waters of Halifax Harbor and warmed the air to a pleasant enough temperature that she was inclined to linger outside for a look around.
For the first time since her arrival in Halifax, she took a moment to survey the town that would be her home for the next few months. Behind the solid ironstone warehouses on the docks, buildings ranged up the steep hillside in tiers that reminded Jocelyn of Bath, back in England. Though, instead of golden stone town houses, most were wooden cottages with barnlike gambrel roofs. Some were painted in bright colors while others had been left to weather to a soft gray. The bustle of ships in the harbor and the looming presence of Fort George on the summit of the hill gave the town an air of excitement, even danger.
There was a sense of suppressed excitement aboard the bride ship, too, when it cast off and sailed a few miles deeper into Bedford Basin. Jocelyn did her best to prevent the girls from swarming all over the deck and getting in the way of the crew, but it was hopeless.
“Oh, very well!” She threw up her hands at last. How could she expect them to contain their eagerness when she could scarcely curb her own? “Only don’t all crowd on one side of the deck—you’ll make the ship list. And anyone I catch pushing will be sent below!”
The last thing she needed was to fish some sodden young woman out of the frigid water. That would do nothing to dispel Sir Robert’s negative opinion of them.
Jocelyn was so busy keeping an anxious eye on her charges she hardly noticed the settlements on shore giving way from town buildings to scattered farms to trees, trees and more trees. Most were