Beloved Captive (24 page)

But how had he come to share his time with Frannie Griffin?

Ah yes. Upon mentioning he could not stay and assist the admiral in completing paperwork, Caleb was told he could either stay and miss the event or take along the admiral’s daughter, who had been tormenting him mercilessly for an audience with the author.

Funny how doing his superior officer a favor had turned so incredibly wrong.

“Misunderstanding or not, the facts remain,” the admiral said through clenched jaw. “I am left with a man of questionable character who keeps company I do not like.”

This claim flabbergasted Caleb. It also made him mad enough to fist his fingers, then hide them behind his back lest he use them without properly thinking things through. “Your daughter was at the soiree long after I had taken my leave, thus I fail to understand how any company I keep would—”

“It’s quite simple.” The admiral toyed with the fat ruby ring jammed on his pinky finger before continuing. “The president has asked the secretary to take on his pet project. That, my boy, is you.”

Heat flamed his cheeks, and his blood boiled. “I beg your pardon.”

Admiral Griffin held up his hand to silence Caleb. “I don’t care how long your father and he were friends, you’re no navy man, and you don’t belong in my department despite what the secretary has decided.” He paused. “And lest you think you can go around me and plead your case to whoever else your father’s money and influence has reached from the grave, think on this: I, too, have my supporters. It is likely I will be the next secretary of the navy.” Another pause. “With all the power that entails.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed even as he bit his tongue. To say anything further would be to risk the career he’d worked so hard to build.
 

“If it were up to me,” the admiral continued, “I’d send you packing back to the attorney general and leave you to his mercy. I understand his wife’s nephew has the job he’d slated for you, which is how I ended up with you in the first place. Likely he’d find something for you. Perhaps picking the lint off his robes or seeing that his inkwells are filled.”

Caleb took two steps back to keep himself from charging forward and exacting justice in the way no department in Washington would tolerate.
Is this man worth your career?

He took a deep breath and tried another way of reaching the buffoon. “Sir, I must remind you I had a stellar reputation when I worked under the attorney general.” When the admiral’s eyebrows shot up, Caleb continued. “I was on track to become a personal aide to the attorney general when I was forced to take a brief leave of absence to see to my widowed mother’s interests in Santa Lucida. Then there was the delay caused by an unfortunate accident from which I am thankfully recovered.”

“Santa Lucida?” Admiral Griffin leaned forward and gave Caleb what almost looked like a smile. “Young man, tell me more about this.”

So his attempt at placating the admiral had worked. Wary of giving too many of the facts, Caleb decided to be brief. “You may know of the storm that hit the Caribbean last fall. My maternal grandfather’s plantation sustained damage, and I was called upon to see to its restoration.”

“I see.” The admiral steepled his fat fingers and tapped the largest of his chins. “So would you characterize yourself as being a native of that area?”

“A native?” Again, Caleb considered his words before speaking. “It is the land of my mother’s birth. I, however, had a more varied upbringing.”

“And your father’s connection to the president is that he served with him in the Florida Territory, did he not?”

How much more did the man know? “He did,” Caleb said carefully. “He was a judge during that period.”

Admiral Griffin nodded. “Despite the fact my Frannie will be heartbroken that a potential beau will be leaving the city, I’m sure you will find it convenient and expedient to take whatever assignment is given to you. After all, anyone tied to this sorry excuse of a president we have will soon be glad to turn tail and run.”

The only thing worse than enduring the accusations of this man was enduring the attentions of his daughter. But turn tail and run? Never.

His blood boiling, Caleb clenched his jaw and tried to decide whether to hold his silence or apologize later. He decided to do neither.

“Sir, while I can bear the scrutiny of a misunderstood evening with an overly enthusiastic young lady, and I use the term loosely, I will not abide insult to my reputation or to my president.”
 

His fists clenched, Caleb tried to continue but found it utterly and inexplicably impossible. It was as if God had sealed his lips and forbade speech.

“Then it’s settled.” Admiral Griffin pushed back from his desk and rose to cross the distance between them, his face flushed, yet his smile oddly broad.
 

Despite the strange grin, Caleb waited for the man to hit him first so he could return the favor. Instead, the admiral reached out to shake Caleb’s hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Spencer.” He tightened his grip as he shook his head. “Judge Spencer,” he corrected.

 
Had he heard the fool correctly? “Judge?”

“It is your good fortune to have crossed me on the same day I am told by the secretary I must provide a candidate for a judgeship that thus far no one will accept. Despite arriving in my offices with your skin tanned the color of an Indian savage, I’ve read your résumé and know you’re a Washington dandy. I’m sure you’ll find this assignment perfect. And you’re a single man, so there’s no concern as to whether the wife will raise a fuss when she hears of it.”

Caleb gave no thought to his answer save the fact he’d likely end up in the brig if he worked in this man’s employ another day. “When do I take my leave?”

The admiral walked back to his desk, his shoulders shaking from his chuckles. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements and write the letters of introduction. Prepare to sail in a week’s time.”

“But where am I going?”

He grinned. “Let’s just say you can leave your overcoat at home when you take this assignment.” Admiral Griffin’s smile went south. “Now leave my office before I forget you’re likely a better shot than I and attempt to send you out horizontally.”

Chapter 25

August 12, 1836

First came the wind and then the rain, a downpour so hard that the ringing of the bell calling the wreckers to their vessels could barely be heard above it.
 

Emilie climbed from her bed and padded to the porch, her wrapper whipping in the building gale. The call of “Wreck ashore!” carried across the buildings of the city and bounced up the road to her cottage, rolling onto the porch like the drops falling from her roof.

Over the last two years, she’d grown used to the unpredictable nature of the ocean and its reefs, so a call such as this one rarely drew her from her bed. Tonight, however, she watched the wrecking boats tracing a path from the harbor, their lanterns like fireflies as they bobbed away, and felt as if this time might be different.

The rain slowed until all that remained was the irregular drip from the eaves and the corresponding plopping sound as the water landed in fresh puddles of mud. Emilie was put in mind of New Orleans and the spring downpours that washed the dirt of the city off every surface until it sparkled when the sun finally returned.

Another call of “Wreck ashore!” and then the night was still. Emilie watched for a bit longer as the firefly lanterns clustered around the unfortunate sinking vessel, then one by one carried whatever persons or goods they could back to shore.
 

She went back to bed with the vessels still shuttling between the wreck and the shore, and her last thought before dozing off was that the wrecked ship must have been quite full with people or goods or both.

A few hours later she had her answer when a knock at the door awakened her from a deep sleep. Throwing on the same wrapper she’d donned earlier in the night, Emilie peered around the half-open door to see Reverend Carter’s wife standing just inside the curtain of random raindrops next to a woman with three children huddled in front of her. All of them were soaked to the skin.

“I hope you’ll forgive the interruption of your rest,” Mrs. Carter said, “but we’ve a bit of a situation.”

“Yes, please,” Emilie said as she stepped back to open the door. “Do come in.”

Mary Carter ushered the silent travelers in, and Emilie helped get them settled in the parlor. “Emilie Gayarre,” Mary said, “this is Ruby O’Shea and her girls.” She turned to the bedraggled woman. “I’m sorry. What are their names?”

“Maggie and Carol are the older ones.” She lifted her hand to point, then allowed it to drop by her side as if she had no strength to control it. “The little girl’s Tess.”

While Emilie fetched blankets and dry clothing, Mary bustled about the kitchen, cobbling together a meal from the meager pickings. Though it was warm out, Emilie lit a small fire in the fireplace, an act that brought a smile to all four pale faces.

Depositing the pile of clothing and blankets on the settee, Emilie gestured to the back of the house. “I’ll leave you alone now to get warm and dry. Mary and I will be in the kitchen, getting something for you to eat. Just call when you’re done.”

Emilie turned to go when the woman called her back. She turned to see Ruby holding up one of the dresses the man with the pipe had delivered to Emilie in Havana. The memory made Emilie’s stomach do a flip even as the sight of the woman’s face made her smile.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “If I had something this pretty, I’d never just up and give it to a stranger.”

“I’d be honored if you’d take it,” Emilie said, “though you’ve such a tiny waist that it may swallow you.” She looked down at the girls. The elder two appeared to be twins, while the younger one held to her mother’s damp dress with both fists. All wore blond braids, and none could be a day over nine or ten.
 

“Oh dear,” Emilie said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with my nightdresses for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll ask some of the girls in my class if they’ve got anything to spare for you.”

Little Tess released her grip on her mother to stare up at Emilie with wide blue eyes. “You look too old to be in school,” she said.

Emilie knelt down to look the girl in the eye. “Well, you’re right about that. I am too old.” She smiled. “But guess what? I’m not a student; I’m the teacher.”

“You are?” Her eyes went wider. “You’re too pretty to be a teacher.”

Emilie laughed. “Oh, thank you, sweetheart,” she said, “but I promise I am one. In fact, if you ever decide you’d like to come and see my new school I would love to show it to you and your sisters. With your mama’s permission, of course.”

“Could I?” She looked up at her mother. “Please?”

The woman looked tired enough to say yes to just about anything, so her nod was not unexpected. “Depends on how long we stay,” Ruby said as she swung a tired look toward Emilie.
 

“What do the children call you?” the girl asked.

“They call me Miss Emilie because Miss Gayarre is a bit difficult for the little ones to say.” She upped her smile. “What do they call you?”

“Well, I don’t know the children, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what they call me.” She gave Emilie a look that told her exactly what she thought of the question.

“Of course. How silly of me.” Emilie looked up at the girls’ mother. “I know you’ll likely go on as soon as the next ship can take you, but you’re most welcome to stay here with me. As long as you don’t mind the cramped quarters,” she added.

“I’d be much obliged,” she said.

“All right, then. I’ll leave you ladies to yourselves and go see if I can help Mrs. Carter. You let us know when you’re ready.” She rose to join Mary in the kitchen.
 

“I’ve managed to find a fresh loaf of bread and some mango jam,” Mary explained. “It’ll have to suffice for tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” Emilie said. “I had planned to stock up tomorrow.”

Mary waved away her concern. “I’m sure after what they’ve been through, this will be a feast. I’ll send Josiah over in the morning with something for breakfast.”
 

“Thank you. That would be wonderful.” Emilie reached to pull four plates from the cupboard. “So, what happened to them?”

“The vessel running aground was just the last in a series of things. It seems as though the man in charge of this vessel wasn’t exactly who he claimed to be.” Mary stopped and seemed to consider her words. “It appears he and his men boarded the ship a day’s sail from Havana without anyone’s knowledge. This awful fellow claimed the captain’s job for his own and sent the real captain overboard.”

Emilie covered her open mouth with her hand. She knew too well the possibilities for horror abounded when a villain was in charge.

“Did the wreckers find this man with the ship?”

The pastor’s wife shook her head. “No, and the only reason there was anything to salvage is because the pirate took the vessel over for to be his own and loaded all his prizes onto this ship. Best we can tell, he sent the men overboard with the captain and kept the women.” She shuddered. “Leastwise they didn’t find any men except the ones who were working with that awful Hawkins fellow.”

“Did you say Hawkins?”

Mary nodded. “Yes, Emilie. The ladies told the judge the fellow called himself Thomas Hawkins and said he was looking to avenge the sinking of his ship by capturing a bigger and better one.” She paused. “Ruby mentioned he was a particularly ruthless fellow. I didn’t feel it appropriate to ask her how she came about this knowledge.”

“Thomas Hawkins?” Emilie felt her knees buckle, and she sat before she fell.

“Emilie?” Mary called from what sounded like a faraway place. “What’s wrong?”

“Thomas Hawkins is dead,” she managed through lips that quivered in spite of her.

“Dead?” Mary shook her head. “Honey, what are you talking about? Why would you say such a thing? Josiah told me they were hoping to find him still aboard the ship.”