Set in 1862, The Brideship charts the adventures of three British orphans: 15-year-old Sarah, her frail cousin Maud, and Sarah’s irrepressible Cockney friend, Lizzie. With 37 other orphan girls, they are selected for jobs in Canada and bundled into cramped, fetid quarters on a ship. On board, they learn to their horror that they’re to be married to miners in the B.C. gold fields.

Most of the novel takes place on the ship as Sarah struggles to cope with seasickness, Maud’s illness, and their chaperon, Mr. Dubonnet, who frames Lizzie for his own petty thefts. When Maud dies, Sarah and Lizzie decide to run away before their weddings and set up a business on their own. The book culminates somewhat disappointingly with the girls abandoning their laundry business in favour of marrying the first decent men of their acquaintance. Granted, in
the 19th century, any girl’s options were limited, especially an orphan’s, but after the promise of independence, the ending seemed a letdown.

The female characters are effectively drawn: through her mistakes Sarah learns to think of others before acting impulsively on her own behalf. Mr. Dubonnet, on the other hand, seems an undermotivated villain. Why would a man hoping to impress the bishop into granting him headmastership of a school risk scandal for an orphan’s brooch and book of poetry?

Weir’s writing is competent, but not memorable or fresh. She slips into repeating clichés: Lizzie either “beams,” “grins,” or “twinkles,” usually mischievously; and on at least two occasions, Sarah feels an empty hole open up “somewhere deep inside.” Overall though, Weir has shaped a gripping narrative in a spare, swift-moving style that will encourage reluctant readers.