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.Even if Jenny Greene were indeed her mother, it was far too late for such thoughts.From the time she’d been a little girl, Rebecca had been raised with Mrs.Stockdale’s constant reminders on the value of virtue that must accompany the improvement of a girl’s mind.Indeed, she had grown into womanhood schooled on the difference between right and wrong and, more importantly, on the fragile nature of a woman’s chastity.Much more so than with the other students, it seemed, the schoolmistress had been keen on constantly reminding young Rebecca about the necessity of hiding her “unusual” looks, of binding and taming her willful and flame-colored tresses.No, nothing should ever be allowed to steer her—even momentarily—off the narrow path of decency and respectability.It all made sense now.Mrs.Stockdale’s persistence had simply been the result of her suspicions about the “bad” stock Rebecca had probably issued from.Indeed, she wondered with a pang of bitterness, though, what her former schoolmistress might think of her actions tonight.The carriage rumbled to a sudden stop.Rebecca’s heart leaped into her throat.She clutched her skirts in her hands and stared at the closed door of the coach.She could smell the rank odor of fish and rotted wood, and guessed they were close to the Thames.“I suppose.this is the end.”“There is a boat waiting for me here.”Elizabeth’s words drew Rebecca’s gaze.“I am taking a boat from here to Dartmouth where James and I will be boarding a ship headed for America.”All Rebecca could do was hold her breath.“I am.I am not well.And we are traveling alone.”A tear rolled down Rebecca’s cheek as she stared into her guardian angel’s face.“I want you to come with us.” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]