Love's Rescue (16 page)

R
ourke must secure Elizabeth’s promise to wait if he hoped to have a chance at her hand in a year. That night in the chapel he had wanted to kiss her. Instead he’d deliberately shattered her heart. Under such circumstances, few women would agree to see him, least of all wait a full year for his return. He must offer her hope, and that could only be accomplished in person. Somehow he must wiggle past the imposing figure of her great-aunt and her watchdog of a father.

After ensuring Charles Benjamin was in his office, Rourke left the harbor in search of Elizabeth. According to Anabelle, the day’s marketing took place between ten and eleven in the morning. Occasionally Aunt Virginia joined the family’s cook. He hoped that was the case today.

He angled past the grocer on Duval and spotted the Benjamins’ cook but not Elizabeth’s aunt. That would make his task more difficult, but he hadn’t time to waste. With the salvage libel dropped, Rourke stood to collect a handsome amount if the cargo sold for a good price at auction this afternoon. Once that was over and the amount due paid to him, Charles
Benjamin would expect the
Windsprite
to set sail. Though Rourke had claimed to need two weeks, the chandlers would readily reveal that he was fully supplied and crewed. That was all Benjamin needed to press him to leave. Rourke must see Elizabeth now.

“I wondered when you would show.” Poppinclerk stepped from the shadows beside a grogshop.

Rourke skirted around him. “I’m busy.”

“So it seems.” Though far shorter, Poppinclerk managed to match his stride. “I see the
Windsprite
is fitting out for a long voyage.”

“Every wrecker prepares for weeks at sea,” Rourke snapped. After reading the incompetent pilot’s lies in his deposition, he wanted nothing to do with the man.

“Of course he does. I did so myself in times past.”

Rourke growled at the man’s reference to his wrecking career, as if it had lasted two years instead of two months. At the first opportunity and doubtless after a great deal of money changed hands, Poppinclerk took up piloting the vessels of unsuspecting masters.

Poppinclerk either did not hear Rourke’s irritation or chose to ignore it. “In your case, I hear you have a different destination in mind.”

“My destination is none of your concern.”

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I heard that you were sailing for Harbour Island. It must have been a rumor. You know how quickly rumors race along the wharves. Why, I once heard that I’d perished at sea—and the man divulging this bit of information was standing right beside me.”

“In the grogshop?”

Poppinclerk brushed the reference to his drinking habits away
as easily as the gnat that landed on his coat sleeve. “You seem to think I’m your enemy.”

“You lied in your statement to the court.”

“Now, now. That’s such a harsh word for a simple difference of perspective.”

Rourke halted. “Difference of perspective? You said I led you onto the reef, when in fact your incompetence drove it aground.”

Poppinclerk had the gall to look affronted. “I saw a light and thought your vessel was safely outside the reef.”

“That is why you’re a menace to every vessel you board,” Rourke muttered as he hurried on, hoping to shake the man.

Poppinclerk caught up. “In the spirit of camaraderie, I’m going to ignore that statement. In fact, I sought you today because I want to do you a favor.”

That startled Rourke into stopping again. “What favor?”

Poppinclerk was breathing so heavily that he could not speak for some moments. After glancing about, as if afraid someone would overhear, he whispered, “Your enemy knows.”

Rourke had no patience for cryptic warnings. “Speak plainly. What enemy? Knows what?”

“Who opposes you in wreckers’ court?”

Charles Benjamin. There could be no doubt. “What of him?”

“He knows your plans.”

Rourke’s blood ran cold.

“What plans?” he snapped. The man couldn’t possibly know that he intended to spirit Anabelle away from her master.

Poppinclerk’s malevolent grin confirmed Rourke’s worst fears. “No need for secrets between old friends. We both want the same end.”

Poppinclerk wouldn’t care about a slave. Unless it made him money.

“What end is that?” Rourke asked.

“Our fair share.”

“That is settled now that the libel has been dropped.”

“I’m not talking about a wrecking award. I have information of value to you, information that will give you what you want most.”

Elizabeth. The man must be talking about her, not Anabelle. How could Poppinclerk know anything that would make her his? Did he have proof of some scandal lurking in Benjamin’s past? Rourke shook his head. Though tempting, such information would only divide father from daughter and the bearer of the news from the hearer. A strong and honest marriage could not be built on division.

“If you expect me to give you a cent for this supposed information, you’re mistaken.” Rourke headed back toward the harbor. He could not walk to Elizabeth’s house now.

Naturally Poppinclerk joined him, though he did not comment on the change of direction. “I’m trying to help you,” he panted. “A gift.”

Poppinclerk gave nothing away. His recent antics showed he would do anything for a price. No doubt he expected substantial payment for the kind of information that could destroy a family. Rourke wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction.

“I don’t need your kind of gift.”

“You will soon regret that decision.” Poppinclerk straightened his coat. “Your enemy has not played his last card.”

Benjamin must have guessed Rourke’s plan or thought he would steal away his daughter. Dread shivered down Rourke’s spine. For a moment he was tempted to accept Poppinclerk’s offer, but he would not deal with a cheat and scoundrel.

He walked away, certain of what he must do next. Instead of
finding excuses to stay in Key West, he must leave. After collecting his share from the sale of the wreck’s cargo, he would set sail as if heading for home. That might convince Benjamin that Rourke had no intention of spiriting away Elizabeth. However, Anabelle might fear he’d abandoned her, especially when she heard that he had headed for Harbour Island.

Somehow he had to get a message to her. He couldn’t do it himself. Benjamin would be looking for him. No, he had to send someone else.

The
Windsprite
bobbed on her anchor. The ship’s boat inched toward the wharf with Tom Worthington at the oars. Tom had brought Anabelle to Key West aboard the
Dinah Hale
. She would recognize him, and no one in the house would think twice of him inquiring after their welfare.

Rourke would send Tom. The lad could even deliver a second message to Elizabeth, one that Rourke hoped would bring her back to his side.

Caroline called on Elizabeth the following day, creating a welcome diversion from the sickening knowledge that she had an illegitimate sibling. She hadn’t been able to look Father in the eye at supper last night, a fact that he noticed. When he asked what was ailing her, she complained of a headache, though it was only partly true. Every part of her ached from the knowledge. This morning she’d hidden the diary beneath the shells in her rosewood box and vowed never to open it again.

Now Elizabeth embraced her friend. “I’m so glad to see you, more than you can imagine.” For a moment she toyed with the idea of telling Caroline what she’d read but dismissed it just
as quickly. That was not the sort of thing shared outside the family. “I wish my mother was still here.”

Caroline, donned in a sensible straw bonnet and a rust and cream striped gown, pointed to her basket of flowers. “That’s why we are visiting her grave.”

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not.” The cold marble had given her chills when she visited with Aunt. “Mother isn’t there. I do appreciate your efforts, though. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” Caroline squeezed her hand. “The flowers will look just as nice in a vase.”

After Elizabeth left the blooms in Anabelle’s hands, Caroline suggested they walk to the shops.

Aunt Virginia sailed into the foyer, making no attempt to hide that she had been eavesdropping. “A walk is out of the question. It threatens rain.”

“Then we shall duck inside if a shower approaches.” Elizabeth had to get away from this house before she said or did something that would rend the fragile peace.

Caroline added unbeatable ammunition. “I would so like Lizzie’s help picking out gloves for the ball.”

“The ball!” Aunt brightened at once. “Why didn’t you say so? Naturally you must go. Elizabeth, you could stand a new pair too.” She smiled coyly. “And when you return, I hope to have a little surprise for the two of you.”

Though Caroline dutifully begged to know what that might be, Aunt refused to divulge the secret, other than that it too pertained to the ball.

“The entire town is abuzz,” Caroline said when they finally strolled down the street.

Indeed it was busy. Servants carried baskets, some atop their heads. Bells clanged, and workmen called out. The roll of wagon
wheels, the smell of fish, and the crunch of gravel tickled the senses. Women scurried here and there, many with children in tow. Men drove wagons laden with barrels or crates. Elizabeth searched the faces of those near her age, both hoping to see a resemblance and terrified that she would.

Caroline stopped in front of the first shop window. “All everyone talks about is the ball.”

“Not as much as Aunt Virginia.” Elizabeth heaved a sigh and pretended interest in the shoes on display. “I have done nothing but walk with a book atop my head, practice sitting properly, and engage in meaningless conversation. If you hadn’t paid a visit, I should have gone mad.”

Caroline laughed as they moved on. “I suppose now we shall be forced to at least look at gloves. I saw some lovely lace ones in the Greene Mercantile.”

“If they fit, I will put them on Father’s account, and then we may do something more pleasurable. Unless, of course, you want them.”

“You know what I think of such extravagances. I’m surprised your aunt believed me.”

“I’m surprised you’re even going to the ball.”

Caroline inclined her head. “Mother quite rightly pointed out that the scions of society will be in attendance. What better place to promote the league?”

“The temperance league? At a ball?”

“I’ll admit it is a bit of a stretch.”

“Spirits will doubtless be served.”

Caroline jutted out her pointed chin. Though lovely in every way that mattered, the brunette would be considered plain by most. “Jesus ate with sinners. I am simply following His example.”

Elizabeth let that idea settle. “You are more courageous than I could ever be. Why, it’s like Daniel stepping into the lions’ den.”

Caroline laughed. “These lions prefer to use their claws, I fear, but as a minister’s daughter, I am granted a little leeway by most. They might listen more keenly, however, if you joined me.”

“I couldn’t. Father would object.” His preference for brandy had grown over the years, not diminished. “Besides, if not for Aunt Virginia’s insistence, I wouldn’t even attend.”

“I thought you hoped to see a certain someone.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat despite knowing Rourke had refused her. Would this embarrassing attraction never end? “I do not.”

Caroline heaved a sigh. “What a relief. I was afraid you would be disappointed.” She stopped in front of a window display of parasols and bonnets.

“In what?” Elizabeth choked when she noticed her friend’s flushed cheeks. “Are you . . . that is, do you . . . or rather, has a gentleman caught your attention?”

Caroline stared at her as if she were mad. “What an odd thing to say. Of course not. This is about your certain someone. I heard—” She abruptly stopped.

“What did you hear?”

Caroline shook her head.

Elizabeth grabbed her arm. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Good afternoon, sir.” Caroline looked past Elizabeth. “I don’t believe we are acquainted.”

Elizabeth whirled around. “Tom!”

Caroline’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mr. Worthington,” Elizabeth corrected herself. “A fine day, isn’t it?”