I lay stretched out on the bunk with the long casements ajar, letting in a little cooling air in the late afternoon as the ship rode the wind. Though we all shared the cabin, the Bartholomews had insisted, as they always did, that I should take the bunk. Any arguments against it on my part fell on deaf ears. I sighed. We were nine days out now and should arrive in Bridgetown within a matter of hours. I cannot say I had any desire to see the place again. It would be forever tainted by memories of the auction and sights I tried never to revisit.
Now I found my thoughts uncomfortably divided between Susannah back in Jamaica and Penny. I prayed for them both. Holy Christ. I sought only the end now. Some sort of resolution. Please God let me return home with her before Susannah’s confinement.
