Chapter 1: Melissa Martin

September 1830

Lady Lambert and her sister-in-law, Eleanor Carter, were inspecting the cabins assigned to them for their crossing from London to Boston in the Amelia Anne packet. They looked comfortable enough. The ship was a solidly built clipper, constructed to give passengers a maximum of comfort, and Rear Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, Lady Lambert’s father-in-law had personally selected the ship for them. After all, it would carry his only children, Richard Lord Lambert and Eleanor Carter, and also his daughter-in-law.

Refusing to wait in London, Eleanor had persuaded her brother Richard to escort her to Boston, there to find her fiancé and bring him relief. Her sister-in-law, newly wed and expecting a child, rather than seeing her husband leave her alone for months, joined them in their undertaking.

Since the Atlantic hurricane season had not ended yet, the Amelia Anne would sail a northern route, and her captain expected the crossing to take five to six weeks. They would weigh anchor in the morning, and the three young people had come aboard before nightfall so that the ship might use the first light of the morning to sail. Neither Lady Lambert, the former Ellen Wilkes née Trilby, nor her sister-in-law had even sailed in an ocean-going ship, and they were a little apprehensive. Richard had travelled by sea before as an infant and young boy, when his mother, Lady Harriet Carter, had followed her husband to overseas stations, but his memories were dim. Still, he maintained a stoical composure, conscious of his standing as a peer of the realm.

They were on their way to aid Eleanor’s fiancé, Don Antonio Ruiz y Costa, who had travelled to his native Colombia to settle his affairs — he had been the Colombian ambassador to the Court of St. James — and had suffered a ship wreck on the return journey. The survivors were picked up by a Boston whaler, and thus, Antonio landed up penniless in Boston. With the help of the friendly British consul, he had sent letters to his mother and his fiancée, advising them of his survival, but also of the dire straits in which he found himself. Eleanor Carter, a resolute and strong willed young woman, insisted on bringing her fiancé the needed funds and documents personally, an endeavour that her mother only allowed after her brother Richard agreed to accompany her. Being newly wed, his wife Ellen insisted on joining the mission, hoping to have her husband to herself for the journey.

Therefore, Ellen and Richard settled in one cabin, whilst Eleanor took the other, whilst the two servants they had to take along — travelling without servants was not in keeping with the dignity of a peer — lodged a deck below. Ellen and Eleanor had picked the former’s confidential servant, Millicent Wade, an orphan girl like Ellen who was fiercely loyal to her mistress, whilst Richard was taking along his manservant Orville, a new hire.

They had a basket of food and wines with them, which they shared as supper, and then went to sleep, excited over their impending adventure. Come the morning, they were woken by the noises of the ship weighing anchor and the topmen loosing the sails, but when they had dressed and stepped up to the main deck, the Amelia Anne was already under way under topsails. With a western wind and the running tide, the ship was making good way downriver, and when the tide turned, they were already past Sheerness and heading for Margate. They were rounding the North Foreland at dusk, heading for the Channel.

During the first days of the journey, they were favoured by friendly autumn weather, and the Amelia Anne made excellent progress. The three young people were lucky enough not to be affected by sea sickness like a few of their fellow passengers. To his surprise, Richard found out that another officer from the Foreign Office was travelling with them. Mister Perceval Edwards was the replacement for the helpful Colonel MacAllister, the British consul in Boston, and he travelled with his wife, Victoria, and they were both delighted to no end at travelling with a Peer of England and his wife and sister. They spent pleasant evenings in the main cabin where they shared a table. Other passengers were less pleasant. An elderly minister with his rather young wife looked with disapproval at the displays of affection between Richard and Ellen, harmless as they were. When Eleanor confessed that she was on her way to her marooned fiancé, they were shocked.

“I would let no daughter of mine travel to a foreign land!” the minister exclaimed.

“My parents gave me a good upbringing,” Eleanor answered sweetly. “This is why they can trust me.”

That did it, and for rest of the journey the couple did not speak to Eleanor, which was just fine with her.

True to their captain’s predictions, they arrived in Boston Harbour forty days after their departure, and their first worry was to find lodgings for the next three weeks. That accomplished, they set out for the British consulate.

Sir Humbert MacAllister was an imposing figure. Tall, with red hair and impressive sideburns, he was nevertheless a friendly and helpful man. Once he had learned the identity of his visitors, he ordered his own coach to transport them to Antonio’s address. Eleanor could hardly suppress her excitement whilst the coach rolled through the strange town.

At last, the coach lurched to a halt in front of a four-story building. Richard alighted and helped Ellen and his sister. They looked at the house; it was not at all what they were accustomed to, but it was not run-down either. Richard led the small group into the stairwell, and they ascended to the second floor. There were four doors, and Sir Humbert had said it was the second. Richard knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked once more, and suddenly the door next to them opened, and a woman showed.

“You’re looking for the Spaniard?” she inquired.

“Yes, indeed,” Richard answered, bowing slightly.

“You’ll have to look on the top floor, with the Martin woman. That’s where he usually is.”

With that, she slammed her door shut. Richard raised his eyebrows, and led the small group up another two flights. There was just one door up here, and Richard knocked.

“One moment please!” a pleasant female voice called from within, and Ellen noticed that Eleanor was ready to bolt.

“Easy there, Eleanor,” she said, “you don’t want to jump to conclusions, believe me!”

That was sound advice, but Eleanor felt panic. The door opened, and her fears solidified. The woman who opened was certainly very attractive. A full bosom seemed to stretch a paint-smeared smock to the breaking point. Her hair, dark brown, was curly, and tied in a frayed braid. Her face, with large, brown eyes and a generous mouth, was friendly, and this was underscored by the dimples that showed when she smiled. She looked at her visitors questioningly.

“Madam,” Richard started, “we were told that Antonio Ruiz y Costa would be found here.”

“Who wants to know?” the woman inquired, not unfriendly, but guarded. Her voice was rich and cultivated.

“I am Richard Carter, Lord Lambert. This is my wife Ellen, and this is my...”

“She must be Eleanor!” the woman said excitedly and laughed. “Poor Antonio speaks of you all the time! You came all the way from England to pick him up? How sweet of you! Come in, my dear,” she gushed and pushed Eleanor in and into a large, well-lit room. Richard followed, but Ellen held back, trying to gauge the woman. She had to smile when she heard the happy shriek from Eleanor and gave the woman a friendly nod. The woman stared at her with an open mouth.

Melissa Martin considered herself a reasonably happy person, in spite of the repercussions she had to endure for her choices. The daughter of a rich brewer and merchant, she had grown up with a better education than most other girls. Early on, she discovered that she loved to paint and sketch. At first, her parents had been amused at her artistic streak and had even allowed her to study the arts further, expecting her to dazzle men with her talent. When young Melissa steadfastly refused to select one of the numerous suitors, however, when she maintained her wish to become an artist for a living, her mother had all but disowned her. Her father had been disappointed, too, but at least he still acknowledged her existence, and he quietly supplied her with money for her living expenses. This was how she was able to afford the top story apartment where she painted and lived.

Three months ago, the displaced young Columbian had rented a second story room, and they had met in the stairwell. He had helped her carry her purchases upstairs, and they had started to talk. He had become a good friend to her, one who did not look down on her. For young Melissa, apart from being shunned by her family, carried another stigma. She had feelings for women, and for women only. Antonio had never looked at her with the smirk to which she was accustomed, and she had come to trust him. And he looked so good! Soon, the young man would sit for her, and she was even able to sell a few of those paintings.

When she opened her door to those visitors from England, her well-ordered little world turned topsy-turvy, for she looked into the eyes of the loveliest woman she had ever seen. The friendly smile with which the young woman looked at her did not waver when Melissa stared at her. There was understanding in those violet-blue eyes, but no withdrawal. Finally, Melissa was able to speak.

“Would you like to come in, Missus..., how do I address you properly?”

“Why not with Ellen?” the young woman suggested. “I’ve been Lady Lambert for only four months, and I still feel strange being addressed that way. Are you a friend of Antonio?”

“We are neighbours and friends, yes. Not that sort of friends, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Ellen responded with a friendly smile. “Are you a painter?”

“Yes, I was working with Antonio. He sits for me quite often.”

“I have never met a female painter,” Ellen said with appreciation. “Come to think about it, I can’t see a reason why women should not paint. Will you show me your work?”

“Of course, why don’t you come in?”

They entered the atelier where an amused Richard watched his sister who was in a tight embrace will a half-naked Antonio. Ellen giggled delightedly, and walked over. Antonio looked up, and his eyes widened.

“You are here, too? I never expected you to come here. I would hug you, but Eleanor won’t let go.”

Ellen grinned and reached up to kiss his cheek.

“You had better dress before you hug me. Richard has a reputation as a duellist,” she laughed.

Eleanor finally let go of Antonio and walked over to Melissa.

“Miss Martin, Antonio has told me about you. I want to thank you for being his friend.”

She held out her hand, and Melissa shook it.

“This calls for a celebration,” Richard spoke up. “I have taken the liberty of reserving a room for you at our hotel, Antonio. We shall have another three weeks before our ship sails, and we should spend them in comfort. Your mother assembled clothes for you, and they are at the hotel. Perhaps, Miss Martin would care to join us for dinner?”

The young woman blushed.

“Only if you are sure that I shall not intrude on you,” she said, but Eleanor gave her a brief hug.

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled.

“I take it you will be moving, Antonio?” Melissa asked.

Antonio blushed. “I suppose,” he said. “I shall help you finish the painting, don’t worry. Eleanor, Melissa needs two more sessions with me to finish. Would it be terribly thoughtless of me to ask for leave to sit for Melissa? She has helped me so much.”

“Can I watch?” Eleanor asked, hopefully.

“But of course,” the young painter said, relieved that she would be able to finish the last painting, for which she already had a buyer.

“This is wonderful!” they heard Ellen exclaim. She had wandered off and examined the half-finished painting of Antonio. “This is so lifelike, you’d think Antonio will start to speak at any moment. You must be very successful.”

“Not really,” Melissa laughed. “This is a city of religious people. They frown upon artists, they frown more upon a female artist, and they frown on women who chose to live alone.”

“You can take orders then?” Ellen asked excitedly. “Could I sit for you? I want Richard to have a painting of me for his office.”

Richard smiled, but he liked the idea. “I would love that,” he offered.

“Why, of course,” Melissa gushed. The thought of painting this alluring young woman made her all giddy with excitement.

“Wonderful!” Ellen smiled. “Will you have dinner with us? We’re staying at the Peabody. Do you know it?”

“With pleasure,” Melissa almost whispered.

A half hour later, they had collected Antonio’s meagre possessions from his lodgings and loaded them onto the coach that took them back to their hotel. Richard had written a billet to Sir Humbert, inviting him to dinner as well. Antonio spent some time in the afternoon soaking in a large cast-iron bathtub, whilst an unashamed Eleanor puttered around him. Richard had debated where to draw the line, but his sister was so happy that he did not have the heart to curb her enthusiasm. The two joined Richard and Ellen at their table in the dining room after a whole afternoon spent in seclusion, and they radiated happiness.

A little while later, Sir Humbert arrived, accompanied by a good looking, dark-haired young woman whom he introduced as his daughter Colleen. He explained that his wife had passed away ten years ago, and that his daughter accompanied him everywhere his duty called him. Antonio thanked the consul again for his help. They learned that Sir Humbert and his daughter would also be passengers in the Amelia Anne for the journey back to England, his posting ended when Mister Edwards arrived.

Melissa Martin arrived a few minutes later, clearly in her best dress and rather self-conscious. She had tied her rich brown hair into a single, thick braid, falling over the back of her tobacco-coloured dress. The dress could barely contain the ample gifts nature had bestowed on her, and she was clearly ill at ease, especially seeing the other table partners in their well-tailored attire.

In her elation, Eleanor jumped up and hugged her, eying her with appreciation.

“You look fabulous, Miss Martin. It is a good thing that Antonio’s faithfulness is unwavering for you are surely a temptation to any man. Isn’t that so, Richard?”

Richard laughed easily. Since having reconciled with Ellen, he had become more sure of himself and of his wife. Knowing that Ellen would understand, he complimented Melissa, too.

“If you ever find painting too tasking, you can just as easily sit as a model.”

Antonio snorted. “Easily? Did you ever try to sit motionless for hours?”

That took away the attention from Melissa, and she gave Antonio a grateful smile. Antonio had to relate his adventures in more detail during the dinner, and Eleanor’s eyes remained glued to his lips. Unknowingly, and to the hidden amusement of nearly everybody else at the table, her hands pressed his arm fiercely whenever he related dangerous incidents. In the end, Ellen could not help herself. Laughingly, she bent over to Eleanor and patted her arm.

“Relax, Eleanor, he’s here, safe and sound.”

Eleanor blushed and smiled sheepishly receiving sympathetic smiles from all around.

“Can I help it if I feel with him?” she asked.

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Richard laughed. “Believe me, if it weren’t for our parents and Antonio’s mother, I would suggest that you marry instantly.”

Antonio nodded. “The thought crossed my mind, but I want my mother to witness my wedding.”

Colleen MacAllister had been silent for most of the time. She had met the handsome young man a few times when Sir Humbert had invited him for dinner out of sympathy, and she had asked herself why he had not tried to woo her like most young men. Now, of course, she knew. Antonio and Eleanor were a match made in heaven. She then watched the other young couple. They were clearly past their first blinding love, settled into something deeper. They made the impression of having gone through hell and back, their love surviving and being stronger for it. A love like tempered steel, Colleen thought, the poet in her taking over, for writing poems as well as prose was her forte.

Her gaze then swept over the American woman, Melissa Martin. She was a painter, living on her own, defying her parents to pursue her dream of becoming an artist. Colleen thought she understood her. She, too, did not look forward to being married to some young guards officer which was her likely outlook. Her dream was to become a renowned writer, being invited to the literary circles where the titans of the mind met. The news of Lord Byron’s death in Greece two years before had hit her like a hammer; now her fervent wish to meet him once in her life had been buried.

Suddenly, the object of her observation looked up, and the dark brown eyes were like deep ponds in which Colleen wanted to drown. She saw recognition and understanding in those eyes, and sadness. Yes, she understood. They would probably never meet again, never have a chance to find out how similar they felt and thought.

Melissa was distracted now, the conversation had turned towards the fact that she would portray Ellen. Melissa answered a few questions, and finally Colleen found the courage to speak.

“I have never seen a painter at work. Do you think I might come and watch you? We shall leave in three weeks, so it would have to be in the next weeks.”

“Are you interested in painting?” Melissa asked in her rich, captivating voice.

“I aspire to be a writer,” Colleen admitted, and the painter laughed.

“Let us trade then. I shall show you my painting, and you will show me your writings.”

“Agreed!” Colleen smiled, but then her smile fell somewhat. “May I, father?”

Sir Humbert had not seen the interaction between his daughter and the young American woman. Like everybody else around the table, he found Melissa Martin appealing, and he thought nothing of his daughter watching her whilst she painted.

“Of course, dear. Just make sure to let me know when you go and take the coach.”

The young women agreed to meet at Melissa’s quarters in the next afternoon, for the first sketches of Ellen. In the meantime, Richard would help Antonio with obtaining the funds he needed for the rest of the stay and the homeward journey, and Sir Humbert insisted on the young peer to meet with several Boston merchants who had a high volume of trade with England. Richard agreed on a lunch, maintaining that he would have dinner with his wife and not with strangers.

After the men had their last glass of French Cognac brandy, Sir Humbert and his daughter offered their farewell and thanked for the invitation. They offered Melissa Martin a ride home in their coach, and Melissa accepted gratefully. On the way up to their rooms, Eleanor held her brother back.

“Richard, I am grateful for your help and understanding. That is why I shan’t deceive you. I shall spend the night in Antonio’s room. I need to be with him, and he needs me. I promise, I shall not compromise myself.”

Richard smiled benevolently at his younger sister and showed her a key.

“Why do you think I took two adjacent rooms for you and Antonio? Here is the key for the connecting door. Be discrete though. Father will kill me if I allow you to get in trouble.”

Eleanor reached up and pulled her brother into a kiss.

“Thank you, you are a wonderful brother,” she whispered.

“It was Ellen’s idea,” Richard smiled.

“Oh no,” Eleanor groaned. “She’ll tease me mercilessly.”

“That’s a small price to pay,” Richard grinned and led his sister to her room.

When Richard entered his room, Ellen was sitting in front of a mirror, an oil lamp illuminating the corner. She was in the nude, and she examined herself in the mirror. Looking at Richard, she grimaced.

“I’m already showing,” she said accusingly. “Soon I’ll be bloated and you will not look at me anymore.”

Richard knelt behind his wife and hugged her, looking over her shoulder at the mirror image.

“Ellen, if possible, you look more beautiful than ever. Your breasts are filling out a bit, and I think your eyes are bigger now. I love the way you look. As for your belly, that’s hardly noticeable; and it is our child that is growing there. That only makes two persons for me to love.”

Ellen turned to kiss him.

“Who told you what to say? Your mother?”

Richard laughed.

“My father hinted that I should show my appreciation for you even more whilst you are with child.”

“Your father is a wise man. Take a page from his book.”

“He also said that women with child feel the urge quite strongly and that I should not neglect you,” Richard chuckled, gently rubbing her shoulders.

“Remind me to compliment your father for his insight,” Ellen answered, leaning back against her husband who began to nibble at her neck whilst his hands continued to caress her shoulders and arms.

“Let us move to the bed,” Richard whispered into her ear, raising goose pimples over her entire body.

During the five weeks on board the Amelia Anne, they had not been able to consummate their love with quite the intensity to which they had grown used. The wooden bulkheads provided little in the way of sound protection, and although they had been tempted to provoke the stupid minister with a noisy romp, they had decided that it would not be in keeping with the dignity of a peer.

Tonight, though, they were in a real room, the floor under them was solid, and the bed was dry and smelt fresh. Ellen laid back on the bed and smilingly crooked her finger at Richard, who needed no further encouragement, but rather hurriedly joined his wife.

When they lay side by side after their coupling, at once exhausted and invigorated, Ellen caressed Richard’s chest.

“I love you very much, Richard. To be with you now is worth all the troubles we had.”

“But for my stupidity, we could...”

“Shh! Do not for a moment take the blame for that misunderstanding. We were both too insecure to recognise what we had in each other. Now we know, and we shan’t fall into that trap again.”

“You are a treasure, Ellen. I cannot imagine my life without you now.”

“I feel the same. On a related subject, I hope that Eleanor can also have the happiness we enjoy.”

“She may just enjoy it as we speak,” Richard chuckled.

“Yes, I suspect the same. She asked me many questions during the passage. I do not doubt, though, that she will be a virgin bride.”

“Let us hope she will,” Richard sighed.

Meanwhile, Antonio and Eleanor were also lying side by side in the afterglow of a passionate exchange of pleasures.

“Where did you learn to please a woman so well?”

Antonio cleared his throat, at a loss of what to tell her.

“Tell me! You must have learned from an experienced woman. Come on, I know that you must have known women before me.”

“There was a woman, a servant, in our house in Cartagena. She was, she is una mulata, very pretty and a few years older than me. She was my lover and my tutor for a year. She taught me how to please a woman. Are you jealous of her?”

“No,” Eleanor said with conviction. “If it hadn’t been for her, you would not have known how to make me feel as good as you did. What happened to her?”

“When I left Cartagena to join the fight for freedom, I bought a farm for her and her family. The last I heard, she married a man from her village. I hope she is happy.”

“Antonio?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“I can hardly wait for us to be married!”

“I feel the same, Eleanor. All those months in the whaler, it was your image before my inner eye that kept me sane.”

“I had your mother to give me strength. We have grown quite close. When everybody was telling us to accept that you were lost forever, we lent each other strength. We both felt that you were alive. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“No man could ever dream of a better bride,” Antonio whispered, lifting her face up and kissing her. They gave in to their passion once again, before drifting into sleep.

They awoke from a hesitant knock on their door.

“Who is it?” Antonio asked.

“It’s Millicent, Don Antonio. Lady Lambert’s compliments, and breakfast will be served in a quarter hour!”

“Ellen is my best friend, but one day I shall have to throttle her!” Eleanor grumbled, peering through her tangled strands of hair. Antonio smiled down on her.

“And don’t you smile at me at such an ungodly hour!” she continued.

Antonio was unfazed. Bending down, he buried his face in her stomach and blew a raspberry on her belly button. Eleanor shrieked and tried to dislodge him, but she got a merciless tickling for her troubles until she begged for mercy. In a huff, she picked up her night shirt and went back into her room to dress. Antonio was waiting in front of her room when she was finished, and together, they went down to the breakfast room where they were met with wide grins by Ellen and Richard.

“Not - a - word!” Eleanor demanded, pointing her finger at Ellen, who merely lifted her eyebrows.

“As I was saying, somebody must have been very sick tonight,” Ellen told Richard in conversational tone. “I distinctly heard this moaning and thrashing, and even cries of pain, I believe. Didn’t you hear it, too, Eleanor?”

Eleanor looked murder, but Antonio had a good-natured grin on his face.

“Stop teasing my fiancée, Ellen,” he smiled. “I believe I heard very similar sounds from next door.”

Ellen merely grinned back.

“What do you expect? That was our first night alone in a month, and we’ve been married for just three months.”

Antonio was confused. “I thought you planned to marry last year?”

“We would have,” Richard said quietly, “had it not been for my stupidity.”

“And mine,” Ellen added quickly. “But we found back together. And that is what counts. Eleanor can tell you.”

She bent over to Richard who kissed her tenderly. They continued their breakfast and planned the day. Richard and Antonio would cash in a bill of exchange to get spending money for Antonio. The young man wanted to purchase presents for the people who had helped him, Melissa and Sir Humbert and his daughter. For the first time, Eleanor admitted to her initial misgivings.

“When I heard that you spent most of your time with a woman, I nearly turned around,” she said, blushing slightly. “When she opened the door, she was so pretty, I would have run away had Ellen not stayed me.”

Ellen laughed. “You sweet, innocent girl!” she said, patting Eleanor’s hand. “Don’t you realise that Melissa Martin would prefer you over Antonio any time? Or rather, me. Her look was rather admiring and flattering, I have to admit.”

“You mean, she is...?” Richard did not know how to express himself. The word lesbian had not been coined yet, and the male equivalent he had heard at school did not seem to fit.

“She would be called ‘a confirmed spinster’, I suppose,” Ellen said, giggling at the euphemism. “But I like her. And her paintings are just fabulous.”

Eleanor gaped at her. “Do you really think so? I thought she was so nice. Should you really go to her studio then?”

“She is a painter, and she will not attack me. If I had a male painter portray me, you would not think of it as inappropriate, would you?”

“I suppose, you are right,” Eleanor conceded.

“Of course, she is right,” Antonio said. “Melissa is the kindest woman on earth. I know that she will never love a man, but she is a wonderful friend.”

The men left after breakfast, and Ellen and Eleanor sat in Ellen’s room, sorting their clothes for laundering. Eleanor brought up the subject of Melissa Martin again.

“I did not want to mention it, Ellen, but when we cuddled, back in my grandmother’s house, do you think we may prefer women, too?”

Instead of an answer, Ellen took Eleanor’s face and kissed her soundly. Then she released the surprised girl.

“Now, would you rather have me or Antonio kiss you?”

“Antonio,” Eleanor said with a relieved smile of understanding.

“See? I love you dearly and I enjoyed those moments of comfort with you. With Richard, it is different and more. He fills me completely.” She giggled. “Of course, he does, but I mean he fills my needs. Yet, I must admit that the good Melissa has charms that cannot be overlooked.”

“You mean her bust?”

“No, not that. She is so wholesome, and she bursts with vitality. I would like to know her better.”

A maid came to pick up the laundry, but that was handled by Millicent, and the two young women explored the vicinity of the hotel. Boston was a bustling city and the shops were stocked almost as well as London’s shops. In a bookstore, Ellen found two illustrated books about American plants and herbs that she purchased for Lucy. Whilst they strolled along the streets, they suddenly saw a man they had never met the like of. His skin looked like the skin of a sailor, a deep mahogany brown, but it was his features that made him stand out. High cheekbones and a narrow nose, dark brown eyes and thin lips set him apart from the surrounding people. He noticed the two young women who stared at him, and a look of annoyance crept into his face. Ellen noticed that, and she was embarrassed. She walked up to the man.