Love's Rescue (24 page)

Elizabeth hoped her momentary panic didn’t show. Charlie and Aunt Virginia had given her enough to work with. She must put it together in a way that convinced Mr. Finch he stood to gain nothing through this alliance.

“How can you question my affection now,” she whined, “after I agreed to marry you? I’m simply expressing my appreciation for the depth of your love. Many men would walk away from a woman with no dowry or prospects.”

His eyes darted this way and that, attempting to verify the truth of her statements. “Your father is well-off.”

“Alas, he is not.” She dabbed at her eyes. “All his savings are gone, spent on my brother’s care. Poor Charlie! We will, of course, take him in. He will need a woman’s care, and Father is too busy at the office to spend time with him.”

“Your brother is nearly grown.” Mr. Finch stopped trying to hide his exasperation.

“He is crippled.”

“But not our responsibility.” He was beginning to look panicked.

“But he is. He would not be crippled if I hadn’t insisted we walk to the harbor that day. I will carry that responsibility the rest of my life.”

The inner battle played out on his face. “That is why the inheritance would help—to care for your brother. Surely your mother’s family understands that. It’s all the more reason to settle the money on you.”

They understood Charlie’s needs completely, though not in the way Mr. Finch anticipated.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. Sometimes a chess move had an uncertain outcome. Her information was sketchy, based only on what she and Charlie had surmised and Aunt had confirmed. Lacking proof of Finch’s involvement meant she must send forward her rook with no backing.

She forced a smile, as if apologizing for what she must tell him. “Apparently there was some silly little matter pertaining to a document that went missing. Let me see . . . Aunt told me, but I have no mind for business. It had to do with shipping.” She scrunched her brow as if struggling to remember. “Ah! A bill of sale, I believe she said. For Father. He owned a share of the
Victory
, you see.”

Elizabeth didn’t mention the ethical conflict of interest. Father, who always adhered to a strict code of ethics, should not have represented the owners in admiralty court once charges of collusion had been leveled at Rourke. In the past, he had railed against any attorney who didn’t withdraw from a case when he had a vested interest, yet he had done just that. As angry as that made her, she must concentrate on the task at hand.

Without breaking her smile, she added, “Apparently Aunt brought the document with her from Charleston, but it disappeared from her possession.”

The smirk never left his face. “It probably fell overboard when the ship wrecked.”

“Oh no.” This was where her information got sketchy. “You
see, her trunk was latched, and the document was secured inside a pouch. When she examined the pouch later, the other papers were inside but not that one.”

“Then she misplaced it.”

Elizabeth shook her head and leveled the part that was pure conjecture. “That does not explain how it ended up in your room at the boardinghouse.”

They must have guessed right, for Mr. Finch turned gray as weathered cypress. “How? What? You looked through my belongings?”

“Now, now. All is well. Aunt Virginia and I plan to give it to Father after the ball.”

Finch swallowed, his eyes darting from one side to the other. “Why won’t this carriage move?” He reached for the door handle.

“But Percy, surely you don’t want to leave me.” She clung to his arm like a lovelorn girl. “What is a little matter like a lost inheritance compared to love?”

He tossed her aside. “Vixen.” He shoved open the door and jumped out. Turning back for a moment, he snarled, “Congratulations. You got what you want. May you suffer for it.” Then he slammed the door shut.

Through the carriage window Elizabeth watched him sprint away. To her puzzlement, Mr. Finch did not head for his boardinghouse but for the harbor.

“Good riddance,” Anabelle said as the carriage jolted forward.

Elizabeth pressed the side of her face against the curtained interior, exhausted. “I hope you’re right. He could still cause trouble.”

The most dangerous part was yet to come.

Father was not pleased to discover Mr. Finch gone.

“He ran off all of a sudden,” Elizabeth said, “as if he had forgotten something.”

Though Anabelle nodded, she could tell that her father did not quite believe her explanation.

He checked his pocket watch. “I hope he doesn’t take long. Nearly everyone is here. The band is tuning. Soon the dancing will begin, and we would then have to wait for supper to make the announcement.”

Thankfully Father did not consider making an engagement announcement without the prospective groom in attendance, perhaps because no one in town had any inkling they were courting. Oh, they must have known he had called at the house. The neighbors would have spread that all over town. However, courting was another matter, especially since she was still in mourning.

Elizabeth placed a gloved hand on her father’s arm. “Then you will be able to dance with me, Papa.”

At the endearment, his worried expression eased, at least for a moment. “I would like that, sunshine.”

She beamed up at him, content to limit this ball to the two of them—at least until she slipped away to join Anabelle. With Mr. Finch gone, she had only Captain Poppinclerk to avoid. The tension between him and Rourke had been evident on the
Windsprite
. She didn’t trust any man that Rourke disliked.

“Shall we join the guests?” Father motioned toward the entrance, where seemingly the whole of Key West society had gathered.

First Elizabeth unhooked the mantle.

Anabelle finished removing the garment. “If that’s all, miss.”

Elizabeth nodded, and Anabelle drifted away to join the other servants.

“How lovely you are, my dear.” Father’s eyes misted as he looked at her.

Her heart ached to know if he did indeed love her despite his sins and hers. Financial desperation and love for her brother had driven him to ask her for a tremendous sacrifice. He must have lost a great deal in the sinking of the
Victory
. On the other hand, he had dealt cruelly with Mammy and broke Mother’s heart. He risked censure to vilify Rourke in court. He would not even consider her feelings for Rourke.

The hall soon filled to overflowing. She and Father hadn’t gotten far inside the door when Justice Marvin drew him into a conversation about some matter of admiralty law. Elizabeth attempted to listen for a while before drifting farther into the room. Ladies stood in groups conversing or seeking a particular gentleman. Elizabeth looked for Caroline but couldn’t spot her petite friend among all the guests.

The musicians, situated at the far end, struck up a lively tune, and couples moved into position for an old-fashioned cotillion. That opened up the edges of the room so she could spot Caroline, who was standing with her mother and several women from the church. So much had happened since Elizabeth had last seen her friend, and even more would take place tonight. Though she didn’t dare tell Caroline that she would be leaving for Harbour Island, she could at least share a few moments with her.

A gentleman began calling the dance figures. As the dancers glided and swirled, Elizabeth wove through the guests to reach
her friend, who was dressed in a rather plain ochre-colored cotton gown that did nothing for her complexion.

“You look beautiful,” Caroline said, “as always. Your aunt chose the perfect color to highlight your eyes.”

Would Rourke say the same? Would he remember that this was the exact color of the dress she’d worn on that fateful day four years ago? Would her appearance dazzle him so much that he would forget his misgivings and whisk her away? She hoped so.

“Too bad a certain someone has left port,” Caroline whispered behind her fan.

Elizabeth blushed and had to hide behind her own fan. “It’s already quite hot in here.”

“Indeed.”

She conversed with her friend through cotillions and waltzes, brushing aside all requests to dance. Father’s discussion with the judge had grown to a small circle of attorneys. To her relief, Mr. Finch did not reappear. Based on the way he’d run from the carriage, she must have guessed correctly that the missing bill of sale was in his room. If he went there and found it, he might return to the dance. She had originally planned to slip away during the break between dancing and supper when the large number of guests milling about would disguise her absence, but that might be too late. She turned to Caroline to excuse herself and was interrupted by an obnoxious woman who had paid a condolence call when Elizabeth had first arrived. The woman’s name eluded her.

“Miss Elizabeth Benjamin. I see you are out of mourning already,” the woman sniffed.

Elizabeth offered a smile, though she was anxious to leave. “Only for tonight. My aunt insisted this gray would be appropriate.”

The woman lifted her glass and peered at Elizabeth’s dress. “Gray? Looks more like blue in this light.”

“Perhaps so.” Elizabeth curtseyed. “Please excuse me.”

She slipped away as the dancers left the floor. Groups congregated in front of her no matter which direction she attempted. Frustrated, she backtracked and found her path blocked by Captain Poppinclerk, dressed in a green frock coat, striped waistcoat, and silk cravat.

“Please excuse me.” She stepped to the side.

He followed. “I believe you owe me a dance, Miss Benjamin. The orchestra is striking up a waltz. Shall we?”

“I fear I must decline.”

“Now, now, Miss Benjamin, the floor is clearing just for us.” He swiped a hand toward the center of the room and a familiar figure.

Elizabeth gasped.

Mr. Finch had returned.

No one waited at the cemetery. Rourke had walked the perimeter three times, leaving no shadow unchecked. Only the rustling of the leaves and rush of the wind disturbed the silence. He stood in the shadow of a gumbo-limbo tree and drummed his fingers on its peeling bark. The constellation Pegasus pranced high in the sky. Soon the full moon would rise high enough to illuminate the entire graveyard.

Tom and Anabelle should have been here by now. Their absence meant something had gone wrong. Rourke itched to act. This infernal waiting was driving him mad, but if he left and they were simply delayed, he might miss them entirely. On the other hand, they might be caught and need assistance. If so,
where would they be? He had no idea if Anabelle had convinced Elizabeth to take her to the ball or if she was trapped at the house. To find her, he would have to comb the town, where hundreds of people could recognize him.

Rourke slapped a hand against the tree trunk in frustration. The cemetery was a safe meeting place. No one came here at night. If Tom could get to Anabelle, he would bring her here. Rourke had to be patient. He had to trust that others would do their jobs. That was the tough part. It had always been difficult. Even today, leaving the
Windsprite
in John’s hands had gutted him. His mate had earned his trust over the years, but Rourke still struggled to let go.

Lord,
help me to trust.

In the eerie quiet of the graveyard, he thought he heard a whisper.
I am.

Rourke shook his head. It must have been the wind. God might have spoken to Moses, but not to a Bahamian wrecker. Yet as he pondered the whisper, his restlessness eased. God was, is, and always would be. He knew all of time and every thought in a man’s heart. Somehow, no matter what happened tonight, God would be with him.

The wind still rustled through the trees. No one else walked the graveyard. Nothing appeared to have changed, yet everything had. Clarity and strength came from God, not from a man’s struggle.

He closed his eyes and imagined Elizabeth sweeping across the dance floor, her honeyed hair afire in the lamplight. She turned to him, her eyes begging for the life he longed to share. But he stood outside, dressed in sailors’ garb, unfit to step into the ballroom. Her father swept her away, cradling her like a tender bloom too easily torn by the winds of life. For all her
talk, Elizabeth Benjamin had not been raised for the harsh realities faced by a sailor’s wife. Cooking, cleaning, and hunger were strangers to her. She might know death but not fortitude. It was wrong of him to encourage her hopes, especially when it could cost two precious lives their freedom.