The Bargain: A Port Elizabeth Regency Tale: Episode 2 Read Online Free PDF

worse, a belief that the enslaved was less than, not equal?
    He reached for his hat to swat at his disturbed brow but found it missing. It was with Jonas. The happy little tot giggled with it, showing Gareth the same affection he offered Miss Jewell. The boy's smiles held Jonas's full love, with nothing held back. Though he too would follow in Gareth’s footsteps and claim the barony, the child hadn't yet learned to look down upon anyone, any race, or any color.
    Could he become like Jonas? Could Gareth unlearn these sentiments to help a colony of multiple races survive?  
    Or was this notion of equality a passing notion, something made easier because of Jewell’s connection to Eliza?

Chapter Three: Restless at Sea

    Water lapped against the hull, pounding against the outer walls of the cabin. The whispers and coughs of the men below had finally ceased, but it still felt as if they were listening or commenting on her or Mrs. Narvel. It was too much for Precious. Her spirits swung too high. She couldn't sleep. Her soul stirred, and she couldn't be caged anymore in the small room. Every time the door opened from the cabin boy or another sailor fetching them food, she could see the changing shadows of light coming from the deck. The world moved topside, and she wanted to see it.
    Being a guest was crazy and beautiful. It had to last. She looked up from the pallet to where the young officer’s wife slept. Mrs. Narvel wanted to trade each night, like equals, but Precious let the pregnant woman have the bed. It was the right thing to do. Having the freedom to make the choice meant more than a soft mattress.
    Precious lay back and set her restless head on her quilt. A year ago, a few weeks ago, she'd have no choice in her duties or where to sleep. The last time she traveled over the ocean, Eliza lay in bed snuggled up in blankets, with hopes and dreams of a marriage to come. And Precious felt lucky to flop on a similar wooden pallet on the floor. Eliza treated her well, but she wasn't sleeping on the ground for anyone.
    Choices. Yes, choices were a good thing.
    Another wave crashed, but the rhythm soon blended with little Jonas's puffy breaths. He slept alongside her, his tiny little mouth puffing air. He'd adjusted well to the boat. Or maybe it was the joy of having his father about for more than a few days.  
    The hurricane lamp grew bright, casting an orange glow about the stark room.
    "Precious, are you up again?"
    The sleepy, high-pitched voice grated, but the woman, Mrs. Narvel, seemed to be a nice one.  
    But what did Precious know of things? She'd just spent two years thinking she was free. Oh, Lord Welling must've had a good laugh on that one. Well, at least he was laughing again. Two years of no joy was wrong, even for an infuriating man.
    Sitting up fully, Precious set each foot on the floor, her bare feet thudding against the smooth warn boards. "Sorry to be shifting. Sleep doesn't have much use for me tonight."
    Mrs. Narvel's apple-shaped head bobbed up, her red curls plastered to the sides of her butter-colored cheeks. " What are you going to do with another sleepless night? I haven't seen you slumber much."
    The woman had been watching her? Precious bounced up and leaned against the wall. She took a finger and traced a crevice between boards. "Guess I'll just do what I did the night before. I'll manage."
    The hurricane lamp on the small table showed the lady's lips pinching. "You can trust me, Precious. I know some may give you trouble, but that's not in me. I know Lord Welling has faith in you, so you must be a good person. He doesn't trust just anyone."
    Lord Welling trusted her? So much so that he couldn't let her be fully free, so much that he wouldn't let her go up top without his permission. Precious swallowed a bit of gall. Mrs. Narvel didn't need to know the particulars of the arrangement with her employer.
    The lady picked up her book from the small table by the bed and waved it. "When I'm anxious, I