She sipped the warm tea and felt a little better.
She nibbled at the corner of a piece of toast, which was delicious and it reminded her she had not eaten since leaving Mr. Jackson’s yard, almost twenty-four hours ago.
“Please, tell his Lordship that I must leave as soon as possible!”
The chef nodded and smiled, patting her hand.
“I will tell him,” he agreed, and, putting the plate of toast close by her on the bunk, he left the cabin.
‘All will be well, all must be well,’ she whispered to herself. ‘For it is true that we cannot land anywhere in this terrible storm, so I must wait until it is safe.’
She lay back down on her bunk.
The horrible memory of her dream had faded and once again she slept, this time peacefully and deeply.
*
Sunlight was streaming through the porthole when
