Page 104 of Impossible
“I will recover from a slightly broken heart.” What an understatement that was. “Anyway, there is no future for Max and me. He is a reluctant viscount with no desire to wed who lives a long day’s travel from London. I am a successful, independent woman with a thriving lifeinLondon. We are completely mismatched.”
That made her feel better. Even if she hadn’t been a fool to keep the truth from him, he would have left all the same. Perhaps not today, but soon. The circumstances of that parting would actually have been much more painful. This was like removing the thorn at once instead of having to work it from one’s flesh.
They arrived at the Horse Ferry and the coachman negotiated their wherry ride. Evie had arranged this because the watermen could be rather aggressive, particularly if there were multiple men vying for their business.
Their waterman was called Gradon. Thick, with muscular arms from rowing, he had a broad smile that showed a missing tooth on the lower right side. “Who’s gettin’ in first?”
“I will,” Evie said, taking his hand as she climbed into the boat from where the stairs met the water.
Prudence went next, and then it was Ada’s turn. The boat bobbed in the river, and sweat broke out across Ada’s back and beneath her breasts. Perhaps this was a bad idea.
“Come on, Ada. You can do it,” Evie encouraged warmly.
“I’m afraid,” she blurted to Gradon.
“Oi, there’s no need to be afraid,” he said cheerfully. “I’m quite good at rowing. Have ye never been on a boat before?”
She could row his boat, but absolutely didnotwant to. “My father was a fisherman.”
“Then ye should be an expert! Come on, then.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward so that she had to step onto the boat.
Ada yelped, clutching him as if her life depended on him. And she supposed it did.
Gradon laughed. “Ye’ve quite a grip there. I bet ye could row.”
“Yes, actually,” she murmured, willing herself to breathe.
Evie and Prudence were seated at the back of the small wherry. They held up their hands for Ada.
“Get yerself seated,” Gradon said, peeling Ada away from himself.
Ada took two steps and grabbed her friends, who settled her between them. They kept hold of her, each clasping one of her hands.
Prudence smiled encouragingly. “There now, this is fine, isn’t it?”
“Just fine.” Ada still couldn’t take a substantial breath.
Gradon pushed them away from the stairs and, standing at the bow, rowed toward Westminster. The wherry bobbed along the water, and Ada squeezed her friends’ hands.
“How long will this take?” she asked tightly.
“Not long,” Evie said merrily. “Just enjoy the lovely summer day.” She tipped her face up to the sky, smiling in the sunlight.
Ada clenched her teeth. She didn’t want to watch Gradon rowing. He looked too precarious standing there as the boat rose and dipped on the water. He could so easily topple into the Thames.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if she could block out the terrible thoughts of what her father might have suffered when his boat went down. No, she wouldn’t think about that. Imagining him cold and afraid and…dying never failed to fill her with unparalleled anguish. She felt as if she were the one drowning.
“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.” She whispered the words over and over.
“Should we have him take us to the nearest water stairs?” Prudence asked softly, her voice thick with concern.
Ada opened her eyes. She refused to be cowed any longer. She could do this.
Looking about, she saw that they were quite a way into the river—not in the center, but much too far away from safety. Other boats moved around them, not too close, but Ada stared, horrified, at the people laughing and chattering. How could they be enjoying themselves?
She swore under her breath. The point was to enjoy the ride. And that didn’t just mean this wherry trip. Life was a journey, and if you couldn’t seek and find joy, what was the point?
“Stop!” she called out.
