Sea of Fire (19 page)

A flash of fear crossed Elizabeth’s face at his words, yet she shook her head in refusal.

The poor old woman held onto the coins, totally at a loss as to what to do. Obviously, she did not want to offend either of them.

“Give me those,” Christian ordered.

The woman’s shoulders sagged in relief, visibly grateful to lose the coins.

He dug deep into the pockets of his waistcoat and supplied her with three of his own coins. The extra is for your trouble.”

From the expression on Elizabeth’s face, if she had possessed a weapon, he was certain she would have used it to take him out. Little fool.

The elderly woman clearly was befuddled by the two, yet managed to wish them well. “May the wind be blowing at your back this afternoon. Thank you and please visit again.”

“Take your package and come along.” He placed his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder as she secured the package and guided her outside.

Elizabeth’s first reaction when they were several shops down the street was to turn on him and stomp on his toe. “Blast you,” she said.

“Hey! That hurt!”

Furious with her, he gripped her upper arm and dragged her to his waiting carriage. His impulse was to pick her up and none too gently toss her inside. Instead, he gave her a pinch on her backside to encourage her to enter the vehicle. Her shocked expression eased the pain in his toe immensely.

“Henrietta Street,” he said to the driver and hopped beside her inside the carriage.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Elizabeth said in a condescending tone.

“Pinch you?”

“That neither. You know what I refer to,” she said in a huff.

He turned his gaze away from her to watch the sights out the window while he tried to control his anger. He didn’t want to say or do something he would regret later. Damn her. Why was she capable of making him lose his patience? Normally, he was tolerant of others and if angered, kept his ire in check.

“You’ve interfered,” she said in a tone filled with contempt.

“We’ll discuss it when we arrive at your town house.”

He kept his focus on the passing activity on the streets and pavement.

“Now.”

This brought her his full attention. She scooted a bit away from him, closer to the opposite window.

“You’ll refrain from wagging that tongue of yours until we are sitting comfortably with a cup of coffee. Not one word from you, or you’ll rue the moment your mouth opened.” He closed his eyes to rest them, but not before he caught the silent snarl she bestowed on him. It was what he’d expect from the auburn-haired little troublemaker.

* * * *

“The coffee is ready,” Hannah said and brought two cups over to where Christian and Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table. “It feels odd to serve you in here.”

Christian insisted that Hannah go to no additional trouble, and Elizabeth was glad. Clearly, Hannah’s mind was preoccupied with her ill sister and her need to go to the elderly woman.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving for Polly’s, Bethy?”

“Of course not. Stay as long as you need to stay.” Elizabeth scooped some cream into her coffee and stirred.

“The doctor said it could take days. She may recover, or me sister could pass on in the night.” Hannah tightly twisted the tea towel she had been holding in her hand so that she could carry the hot carafe of coffee.

Christian said, “Do not fret over Elizabeth’s welfare. I’ll see that she is attended.”

“You are so kind,” Hannah said to Christian with tears in her eyes. “I hate to leave Bethy at this time ...”

“It is indeed kind of Mr. Traynor to offer his assistance, but I assure you I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She paused to sip her coffee. “You take your leave to tend to your sister. I promise to let you know if I hear anything about my father.”

“All right, Bethy. Give a hug then.”

The two women embraced before Hannah left the kitchen.

Christian took a sip of coffee and placed the cup back on the table.

“Are you comfortable now? May we talk?” Elizabeth asked.

Christian reached into his waistcoat pocket for the spurious coins. He examined their faces and backs. “Have you seen these?”

“I never had a chance.”

He handed them across the table to her. His fingers brushed against hers, causing her stomach to flutter. Stop that, she silently warned her body.

“God in heaven,” she said. “These all but shout counterfeit. Roderick made it sound as if the flaw in the coins was minor. I’m surprised the shopkeeper didn’t notice.”

“I saw a pair of spectacles under some papers on the counter. She probably assumed she’d misplaced them. Had she worn the glasses, she would have found the coins suspect. What you did was foolish.”

He didn’t have to tell her what she already knew, and she wasn’t going to openly agree with him. Even if she had examined the coins more closely, she still had Roderick’s bidding to do. “This doesn’t solve my problem. I have purchases to make.”

“So make them.”

“Sure, it won’t be your neck in the noose.”

He half-smiled at her, and said, “And a pretty neck it is, but you needn’t worry. The answer is so simple.”

She tried to think about what he meant. Instead, she was distracted by his compliment.

She finished her coffee and set the empty cup aside. “Tell me.”

“You won’t use Roderick’s coins. We’ll hold them as evidence for the future. For now, I’ll give you what you need to purchase Roderick’s merchandise.”

It was simple. Wonderfully simple. She wished she had thought of it. “I approve. Roderick will never know. However, I cannot let you pay for the purchases. That is my affair.”

“You’ll do as I say, Elizabeth. Had you come directly home—you wouldn’t have put yourself in this situation. Next time I expect my orders to be obeyed.”

“You’re not my guardian.”

“I told Hannah I’d look after you, but this is beside the point. Are you forgetting you have no choice? I suggest you start to show a bit more cooperation, and trust me. We have a common goal to try to locate Adam, though different reasons for doing so.”

“You forget I must do as Roderick bids me.”

“You forget I told you to continue doing so, and that I would help. You’ve got to trust and believe that I want what is best for both of us.”

She let out a sigh. How she wanted to trust someone. How she wanted to be comforted and told that everything would be all right. How she wanted someone to say, “I’ll take care of everything. Don’t you worry about anything.” How she wanted to believe him, but he was the brother of Adam, her enemy. He’d turn on her in an instant to side with his kin. Nay, he couldn’t be trusted.

“You’re right,” she lied. “If we work together, perhaps we’ll get to the bottom of this nightmare sooner.” She’d be more cooperative, but never would she completely trust him.

“When do you have to bring the items you’ve purchased to Roderick?”

“He gave me three days.”

“Get some rest today and tonight.” He stood and raised his arms to stretch. “Tomorrow I will escort you to the various shops until you have all that Roderick has requested.”

“I could use a nap.” She stood and yawned.

“Good-bye, Elizabeth. I’ll call for you in the morn.” She followed him to the front entryway and watched until he entered his carriage and rode off. She’d take a short rest. Afterwards, she’d make herself something to eat, and relax during the rest of the evening by practicing her calligraphy.

* * * *

It finally registered in Elizabeth’s mind that the tapping sound came from the knocker on the front door. She sat up in the darkness, wondering who it could be. She fumbled with a lamp and held it towards the mantel of the fireplace across from her bed. The six-inch-round brass clock said quarter past ten.

She shivered, briefly set the lamp aside and gathered her wrapper. Quietly, she made her way downstairs. The tapping ceased long enough for her to believe the caller had left only to dash those hopes and start again.

“Who is it?” she said through the door.

“The Clarks and Andersons,” a feminine voice said in reply.

Elizabeth considered sending them away, having no desire to discuss her father’s welfare. Yet, they were friends. If she were discourteous, the foursome would be offended and perhaps this would cause undue speculation about her father’s condition. Still, she was clothed only in her nightgown and wrapper.

“Are you going to invite us inside?” a masculine voice now spoke.

The man’s boldness bordered on rudeness. She answered, “I’m not dressed for company.”

“We’ll wait.”

Blast, Elizabeth thought. “Give me a few moments.”

She lit a lone entryway lamp before she raced up the steps. Once in her bedchamber, she grabbed the first garment that presented itself—
a
soiled gown she had tossed on a nearby chair for future cleaning. She left her hair tied back in a braid and returned to the entryway.

“Pardon me for the delay.” Elizabeth opened the door and breathed in deeply to calm herself. “Come in.”

“How is Edward doing?” Mr. Clark, a hefty gentleman near her father’s age, asked.

“He is still not up to visiting,” Elizabeth said.

“Tell him we’re here and demand an audience with his eminence. That ought to cheer him up,” Mr. Anderson commanded. His tall thin frame towered above her.

“He’s asleep.”

“Wake him,” Mr. Clark said.

“You men leave Edward to rest,” Madam Clark said, and turned to face Elizabeth. Her puffy pink cheeks made her eyes appear unusually small in her face. She grabbed both of Elizabeth’s hands and gave them an encouraging squeeze. “We were hoping Edward would be better by now.”

“Aye,” Madam Anderson added. She was as thin and tall as her husband. “We were on our way to a house concert when we unanimously agreed to stop and check on your father.”

“It is very kind of you. I do apologize that father cannot see you. These last few days he has been restless, so is soundly asleep this eve,” Elizabeth said, self-conscious and aware that the women, though they didn’t blatantly stare at her, noticed her wrinkled gown and mussed coiffure.

Madam Anderson looked around expectantly. “Where is Hannah?”

“Her sister has taken ill. She is with her,” Elizabeth explained.

Madam Anderson nodded in understanding.

“Oh, dear,” Madam Clark said. “So many people we know have been sick.”

Elizabeth gave each a cursory glance. Though none of them were inebriated, they had apparently indulged in a few drinks, which explained their boisterous behavior.

Mr. Clark stepped away from the group. He moved to the foot of the staircase and looked up. “You must light more lamps and make it more cheerful around here for your father when he is able to come downstairs.”

“I was about to retire.” She prayed they would take their leave. Mr. Clark was becoming too curious. “ ‘Tis getting late. I don’t want you to miss your concert.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Madam Anderson said. “The performers will be playing music all night.”

Elizabeth nodded. Great, she thought.

“When does Edward usually rise in the morning?” Mr. Clark asked.

“It varies,” Elizabeth answered. “Why do you ask? You still will not be able to see him. Doctor’s orders. No visitors.”

“I want my doctor to examine him. Whatever ails him is lasting much too long.”

“Again, it is kind of you, but I would not offend our physician. We trust him.” She had to get them to leave before the situation got out of control. She brushed past them to the door and opened it. “Thank you for coming.”

“Are you expecting your doctor to call tomorrow?” Mr. Clark guided his wife to the door and stopped before Elizabeth.

She considered his question a second. If she told Mr. Clark, the doctor was planning to visit, he’d probably want to come and question him. This would create a major problem for her. She’d tell the man the opposite.

“I do not expect him tomorrow,” she announced. At last, they would depart. Next time, she’d be more careful about answering the door.

“Grand,” Mr. Clark said, and ushered Madam Clark outdoors. The Andersons vanished through the door after the Clarks.

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, but fearful to learn.

Mr. Clark turned to her and said, “You shouldn’t object to my doctor calling on your father tomorrow morn. We’ll get a second opinion. Your doctor need never know.”

“Nay. ‘Tis not possible,” she called to them, but the foursome must have sprouted wings for they were practically to their carriage. She hurried after them. “Wait. Do not come.”

Mr. Clark smiled at her and took a seat next to his wife.

Mr. Anderson said, “Don’t worry Elizabeth. What harm can a second opinion do? Really, I’m surprised at you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you don’t want your father to get well.”

After his brief rebuke, he jumped inside the carriage, and left her to stare after them. Could her situation get much worse?

She’d not be here when they arrived anyway. Christian was accompanying her to obtain Roderick’s stock. Would Mr. Clark and his doctor unobtrusively depart if they found no one at home, or ... ? She couldn’t leave it to chance. The way her father’s friend was behaving, he’d probably call the authorities, out of concern for both their welfare. Yet, if she faced the doctor, what could she say to keep the man from discovering there was no Edward Corry. Either way, trouble lingered on her doorstep.

She marched inside, bolted the door behind her and headed for the parlor. Her father claimed that a good gulp of strong whiskey every now and then calmed the nerves and eased the conscience. She no longer had a conscience—she’d done and would continue to do whatever she had to do to keep her father alive and well. Her nerves were another matter. After all she’d been through, she never considered drinking whiskey to calm herself, but tonight the contents of the little brown jug beckoned to her. Not only would she have one good gulp, but a second for extra security. When she was calm, the answer to her current dilemma would come to her.

Chapter Fourteen