Prologue
Boston, Massachusetts
February 1816
“You’re sending me away?”
Emma Dunster’s violet eyes were wide open with shock and dismay.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” her father replied. “Of course I’m not sending you away. You’re just going to spend a year in London with your cousins.”
Emma’s mouth fell open. “But...why?”
John Dunster shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I just think that you ought to see a little more of the world, that’s all.”
“But I’ve been to London. Twice.”
“Yes, well, you’re older now.” He cleared his throat a few times and sat back.
“But—”
“I don’t see why this is such a hardship. Henry and Caroline love you like their own, and you told me yourself that you like Belle and Ned better than any of your friends in Boston.”
“But they’ve been visiting for two months. It’s not as if I haven’t seen them recently.”
John crossed his arms. “You’re sailing back with them tomorrow, and that’s final. Go to London, Emma. Have some fun.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to marry me off?”
“Of course not! I just think that a change of scenery will do you good.”
“I disagree. There are a thousand reasons why I simply cannot leave Boston at the present time.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There is this household, for example. Who will manage it while I’m gone?”
John smiled indulgently at his daughter. “Emma, we live in a twelve-room house. It doesn’t require much managing. And I’m sure that the little that is necessary can be most ably performed by Mrs. Mullins.”
“What about all of my friends? I shall miss them all dreadfully. And Stephen Ramsay will be most disappointed if I leave so suddenly. I think he’s on the verge of proposing.”
“For God’s sake, Emma! You don’t care two figs for young Ramsay. You shouldn’t raise the poor boy’s hopes just because you don’t want to go to London.”
“But I thought you wanted us to marry. His father is your best friend.”
John sighed. “When you were ten I might have entertained thoughts of a future match between the two of you. But it was obvious even then that you would never suit. You would drive him crazy within a week.”
“Your concern for your only child is touching,” Emma muttered.
“And he would bore you senseless,” John finished gently. “I only wish Stephen would realize the fruitlessness of it. It’s all the more reason for you to leave town. If you’re an ocean away, he might finally look elsewhere for a bride.”
“But I really prefer Boston.”
“You adore England,” John countered, his voice bordering on exasperation. “You couldn’t stop talking about how much you loved it last time we went.”
Emma swallowed and caught her lower lip nervously between her teeth. “What about the company?” she said softly.
John sighed and sat back. At last, the real reason why Emma didn’t want to leave Boston. “Emma, Dunster Shipping will still be here when you get back.”
“But there is still so much more for me to know! How am I going to take over eventually if I don’t learn all I can now?”
“Emma, you and I both know that there is no one I would rather leave the company to than you. I built Dunster Shipping up from nothing, and Lord knows I want to pass it on to my own flesh and blood. But we have to face facts. Most of our clients will be reluctant to do business with a woman. And the workers aren’t going to want to take orders from you. Even if your last name is Dunster.”
Emma closed her eyes, knowing it was true and nearly ready to cry over the unfairness of it all.
“I know that there is no one better suited to run Dunster Shipping,” her father said gently. “But that doesn’t mean that anyone else will agree with me. Much as it angers me, I have to accept the fact that the company will falter with you at the helm. We’d lose all of our contracts.”
“For no other reason besides my gender,” she said sullenly.
“I’m afraid so.”
“I’m going to run this company some day.” Emma’s violet eyes were clear and deadly serious.
“Good Lord, girl. You don’t give up, do you?”
Emma caught her lower lip between her teeth and stood her ground.
John sighed. “Did I ever tell you about the time you had influenza?”
Emma shook her head, confused by the sudden change of subject.
“It was right after the disease took your mother. You were four, I think. Such a tiny little thing.” He looked up at his only child, warmth and affection shining in his eyes. “You were very small as a child—you’re still small as an adult, but when you were young—oh, you were so, so tiny I didn’t think it possible that you’d have the strength to fight the illness.”
Emma sat down, deeply moved by her father’s choked words.
“But you pulled through,” he said suddenly. “And then I realized what saved you. You were simply too stubborn to die.”
Emma wasn’t able to suppress a tiny smile.
“And I,” her father continued, “I was too stubborn to let you.” He straightened his shoulders as if banishing the sentimentality of the moment. “In fact, I may be the only person on this earth who is more stubborn than you are, daughter, so you may as well accept your fate.”