Rose's Pledge Read Online Free Page A

forest of masts jutted up from their moorings, while seagulls circled and darted low, their cries piercing the salt-laden air.
    The wharf itself teemed with as much activity as any Bristol dock. Such clamor greeted her after so long at sea, and such an array of smells. Loaded wagons rumbled and groaned beneath heavy loads as they rattled across the wooden planks. Horses clomped and whinnied, while their drivers yelled curses and hawkers shouted their wares. Rose had to smile. On a wharf, every day was market day.
    Unable to find her sisters in the crowd, she stepped aside for dockworkers busily off-loading the ship, while a customs agent inspected the cargo manifest. Amid all the hustle and bustle, red-coated king’s men kept order. This new land was every bit as civilized as her own England, Rose concluded. She relaxed and took a deep breath, catching her favorite smell, a whiff of the hundreds of hard rolls being baked to supply the outgoing ships.
    Rose’s gaze lighted on a cluster of men dressed in the attire of tradesmen and merchants. In the center stood Captain Durning and her sisters. She hardly recognized the man, decked out in his best powdered wig, ruffles, and feathered, three-cornered hat. Obviously he wanted to impress the more simply dressed gathering. How sad that his ill-fitting coat puckered between its brass buttons, spoiling the image. With curt motions, he beckoned Rose to join them.
    Hesitant to leave the safety of the ship, she waited for the captain’s more insistent gestures. When she could delay no longer, she moved toward him …toward a very uncertain future. Her pulse quickened upon reaching the landing. Have faith. The Lord is looking after us . Papa always said that—even when the opposite seemed true. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way through the gathering to join her sisters.
    Captain Durning leaned close, looking none too happy with her. “Tardiness is not a virtue,” he rasped into her ear. He pursed his thick lips and stepped onto a platform made of sturdy boards placed on nail kegs. Head and shoulders above the crowd, he scanned his customers as his loud voice rang out. “Gentlemen! As I promised, I have saved the choicest for last. These three young lasses have been schooled in all the social graces, as well as the art of fine cooking. They can also read and do sums. Any one of ‘em would make an ideal lady’s companion or children’s governess.”
    “Put up the one in blue,” a portly man hollered. He wore no frock coat, merely an unadorned vest over his blouse as if he’d just come from a trades shop. “I’ll bid on her.”
    “I’ll expect a starting bid of no less than twenty-five pounds for this one.” The captain reached down to help Mariah onto the stage.
    Rose’s gasp went unheard beneath the audience’s appreciative comments as they ogled Mariah, who stood up there for all to see. The miser had begrudged Papa the mere six pounds he’d shelled out for Mariah. For Lily he’d refused to go higher than five—scarcely more than a half a pound a year. Out of that stingy sum, their good father had sacrificed two pounds to each of his daughters in the event some calamity should befall them. And this vile man intended to profit a despicable fourfold!
    A sudden realization penetrated Rose’s consciousness. The captain was offering Mariah separately. This was not to be borne! He’d promised all of them and Papa that he’d keep them together. “Captain Durning!” She raised her voice above the confusion. “You agreed to sell us as a family.”
    Ignoring her protests, he went on with the proceedings. “What do I hear for a first bid?”
    “I’ll give ye twenty pounds,” the portly fellow said. “Not a pence more.”
    “Twenty-one,” another yelled. “Twenty-two,” shouted yet another.
    Rose shot a look at Mariah. The girl’s eyes fairly danced, and a half smile graced her lips. For some unfathomable reason she actually seemed to be enjoying her