Rapture's Tempest (3 page)

“You’re welcome to stay here, you know, once it’s safe.”

“I know. And I will. I promise.”

“Wait!” Rose halted her exit again. She took a small knotted handkerchief from under her mattress. “Take this. It’s not much, but it’ll help some.”

“I can’t take your money, Rose.”

“You most certainly can, Delight de Vries. You’ll need it.” She put the gift in her hand. “Now, go with God, and
please
be careful.”

Delight hugged her again quickly and then squared her shoulders bravely. Leaving the warmth of Rose’s protection, she faced the cold night unflinchingly. There could be no turning back. Not now…

“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” Ollie Fitzgerald asked his captain and friend, Jim Westlake.

Jim looked up quickly from his seat at the desk in his cabin, and, noting his first mate’s anxiety, he replied reassuringly, “Of course. Don’t tell me you’re going to change your mind now?”

“It’s not
my
mind I’m worried about!” Ollie snapped, irritated at Jim’s lighthearted approach to so serious a decision.

Jim grinned easily. “It’s time. You know how everybody’s been after me to do this.”

“But shouldn’t you think about it a little longer?” his friend argued.

“What for?” Jim countered. “I know everything I need to know about her. She’s beautiful and she says she’s in love with me. Isn’t that enough?”

Ollie snorted derisively and commented cuttingly, “Sometimes, Jimmy, beauty is only skin deep.”

For a moment, Jim Westlake seemed angry, his expression hardening, but then he masked it behind his usual easygoing facade. “Enough said, Ollie. I have proposed and Anna-belle Morgan has accepted. We’re going to announce our engagement at a ball the Saturday after we get back from this trip.”

Ollie slowly shook his head. “You know I just want what’s best for you. Do you love her?”

Jim was put off by his astute question. His mind raced. Love—Annabelle? He cared for her…found her attractive and enjoyed her company…but love? Jim knew the truth. No, he did not love her.

Jim had been in love with only one woman in all of his thirty-odd years, Renee Fontaine, and she had married his brother. There was no bitterness in having lost her to Marshall, simply resigned acceptance, but he was determined never to allow himself to fall in love again. He would marry now because he felt that it was time.

Forcing himself to lie, he answered, “Yes, I do.”

Ollie sensed Jim’s hesitation, but let it go, “Have you told your family?”

“This afternoon,” Jim affirmed.

“Good. I take it they were happy about it.”

“All except Renee.” Jim chuckled. “She had another friend lined up for me to meet. The girl had a unusual name, too….” Frowning, he tried to recall the name of the young woman whose praises his sister-in-law had been singing before he had told her the news of his engagement. “I know—Delight…that was it.”

“Delight?” Ollie smiled.

“Yes, Delight de Vries. Renee said she was very attractive, but I told her she was too late. I’d already made my choice.”

“I bet they were in shock.”

“Only for a little while,” Jim laughed. “Mother seemed most pleased, and I think Father was just glad that my ‘wayward’ days are coming to an end.”

“What about you? Are you glad to give up your freedom?”

Jim was thoughtful for a long moment. “I really don’t see that there will be that much change in my life. You know how busy we are.”

“Does your fiancée understand about your work? She knows you’re going to have to travel with the boat, doesn’t she?”

“We’ve already discussed it, and Annabelle is very understanding.”

“Good.” Ollie was relieved. Jim was one of the best steamboat captains on the Mississippi and he didn’t want to lose him. His business expertise was needed on the long trips between St. Louis and points south. “Well, I think a celebration is in order. What do you say we go to Harry’s and raise a few?”

“Excellent idea,” Jim agreed.

The noise level in the seclusion of the smoke-filled back room was deafening as the men who were gathered there assailed one another for being totally ineffectual in their quest to help the Cause. Fists slammed the tabletop in anger as tempers grew heated, and it was only the sharp knock at the locked door that prevented some of them from coming to blows. Shocked into silence by the unexpected intrusion, they stood poised for flight as the pounding came again.

Gordon Tyndale, the unofficial leader of the small covert group, stood and walked to the door with slow, deliberate steps.

“It’s Nathan, Gordon.” The voice was muffled by the closed portal.

Gordon smiled weakly in relief and quickly unlocked the door. The men behind him gave a collective startled gasp as an unknown Union major entered their midst, and their hands reached nervously for their sidearms.

“It’s all right,” Gordon told them. “He’s one of us.”

When Nathan Morgan followed the Yankee into the room, they relaxed a little, but their expressions grew even more guarded and skeptical when a woman, wearing a heavy cloak that hid her features, came through the door.

“Gentlemen.” Captain Wade MacIntosh spoke confidently to the frightened men.

“Wade, Nathan.” Gordon greeted them warmly. “Thank you for coming.”

“It was important that we come. We have news that I’m sure you’ll be interested in,” Nathan replied, ushering the mysterious female into the room before closing and bolting the door behind them.

“You have news?” Gordon was indeed surprised.

“Good news,” Wade affirmed.

“In case you haven’t met before,” Gordon turned to face the group, “this is Nathan Morgan.” He introduced the older man first. “And this is Captain MacIntosh.”

A murmur of approval ran through the crowd. They had heard that there were other Southern sympathizers in St. Louis, but they had never had the opportunity to meet them before.

“It’s an honor.”

“Thank you.” Nathan returned their warming welcome. “I’m sure you’re wondering what Captain MacIntosh is doing here, but let me reassure you. He is as loyal to the Cause as all of us. In fact, in many ways he is more so.”

“Nathan,” Gordon interrupted, concerned about the identity of the woman standing so quietly by the doorway. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting your other companion.”

Nathan smiled and turned to extend his hand. “My dear, the gentlemen would like to meet you.”

Moving gracefully forward, Annabelle Morgan lifted the concealing hood, revealing her identity to the room full of men.

“My daughter, Annabelle.” Nathan introduced her.

“But Nathan!” Gordon was outraged. “You know women aren’t allowed here.”

“Gordon.” Nathan spoke sternly to his acquaintance. “An-nabelle is the one with the news. I trust you will extend her every courtesy?”

Gordon blustered momentarily and then managed to get control of himself. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured expansively, and the three visitors sat at the front table. “And now, if we may continue?”

“I want to know what
he
is doing here,” one of the more hostile men challenged, glaring at Wade.

All eyes turned to the Yankee.

“Wade MacIntosh is a very good friend. He has family in Mississippi and is most anxious to be of ser vice to us.”

“Really?” the man sneered. “And how will you help us, Captain? By turning us in?”

Wade pinned the fat little man with a glacial glare, his ice blue eyes freezing the next derogatory comment that he was about to make. The man swallowed nervously as he sensed MacIntosh’s barely contained fury.

“Your name, sir?”

“I am Elroy Lucas,” he managed.

“Mr. Lucas.” Wade spoke, his jaw rigid with leashed anger, “if I had wanted to stop your meager activities, I could have turned you over to the proper authorities weeks ago and made myself into an instant hero.”

“But you’re a Yankee!” Elroy spat out, and several other men murmured in agreement.

“I may wear a Union uniform, Mr. Lucas. But my heart is with my heritage,” Wade began, wanting the issue clear with these men from the beginning. “And besides, can you think of a better place to get accurate information about troop movements and payroll shipments than within the ranks of the enemy army itself?” His statements won over all opposition, even Lucas’s.

Nathan spoke up, wanting to get on with what he had to tell them. “Wade has been checking on all the payroll shipments coming through the city.”

“You have access to such sensitive material?” Arthur Brown was surprised.

“Not directly, but there are ways,” Wade informed them.

“Well, tell us what you’ve found out,” Brown insisted.

Again, all attention was directed to the tall, broad-shouldered man in the Yankee uniform.

“All my sources indicated that the Westlake Steamship Line has the present contract.”

“Contract for what?” Lucas demanded.

“Elroy, please, let Wade finish. Wade—” Nathan invited him to continue.

“Thank you, Nathan. The contract to ship the army’s payroll south.”

“But I thought you said that Miss Morgan had the news?” another man questioned.

“She does, and she’ll tell you in just a moment. I wanted to let you know what we have been doing and how we came to be involved in this situation.”

“Is the payroll in greenbacks or gold?”

“Usually gold, but at this point either will do for our purposes.”

“What can we do to help?” Gordon asked, glad at last to have some idea of how to help the South.

Wade and Nathan smiled at his enthusiasm. “Annabelle, if you’d like to address the men, now?”

“Yes, Father.” Rising from her seat, she faced the room full of men. “Gentlemen. I am, as you know, Annabelle Morgan.”

The men were courteous, but openly doubtful of her ability to help them. For she was, after all, only a woman. Beautiful though she might be—and she
was
beautiful, for her silver-blond hair set her apart from the crowd and her petite figure was, no doubt, the envy of many women of more statuesque proportions—Annabelle was an unknown quantity to them, and they listened to her attentively.

“When my father and Captain MacIntosh were discussing ways to get information about the gold shipments, I offered to help them. They, like you, were skeptical of my help, but I think I’ve won their confidence and I hope I can convince you, too, of my sincerity, and competence.”

Her businesslike manner was a shock to some of the men, who were used to subservient, submissive females, but they
held their tongues, knowing that Nathan Morgan was a powerful, influential man.

Annabelle took a moment to survey their expressions before continuing. Pleased that there was no overt disapproval of her, she went on.

“When the subject of the gold first came up, I was intrigued. We all know how the South is suffering. And it seemed to me that this would be the best, most direct way we could help. With gold the necessary supplies and arms could be purchased. And with that kind of help we can defeat the Yankees and drive them from our homeland!”

Her statements drew a cheer from the group and she paused until they were once again quiet.

“Captain MacIntosh has been instrumental in locating the information I needed. And once I knew who was in charge it was a simple matter.” She smiled warmly at Wade. “As of this afternoon, I am the betrothed of Captain James Westlake, the owner and captain of the steamship
Enterprise
. The
Enterprise
, by the way, is the boat that carries the bullion south.”

The men regarded her with open admiration.

“Don’t you feel you’re sacrificing yourself?”

“There is no sacrifice too great for the Cause!” she returned.

“Hear, hear!” they cheered her.

When they had quieted, she continued, “I don’t have everything we need yet, but I’m sure I will before too long.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, you know. Vicksburg could fall at any moment, and, if Vicksburg goes, I’m afraid all is lost.” Another man spoke his worries out loud.

“I have Captain Westlake’s complete trust and admiration,” she told them confidently. “I see no problem in getting the final pieces of information we need…when the gold goes, how big the guard is, and how much is actually being carried. If you will give me your complete trust, then I solemnly promise you that I will do everything in my power to
provide you with the necessary facts. After that, it’s up to you.”

The men sat silently as she concluded and returned to her seat by her father.

“Gentlemen? Do you agree this is a risk worth taking?” Gordon asked. When they gave their approval, he turned to Annabelle and Nathan. “We support you fully, Miss Morgan, and we appreciate your sacrifice for the Cause.”

Despite the lateness of the hour, the streets along the riverfront were busy. Delight, effectively disguised as a youth, made her way through the milling crowds of rowdy river boatmen trying desperately not to attract undue attention to herself.

From the upper windows of the bawdy houses, ladies of the night called out lewd invitations to the passing deckhands, tempting the men who were passing by with explicit accounts of their prowess and promising them a rollicking good roll for a nominal fee. At another time, Delight would have stared in astonishment at this bold open haggling, but right now she was so exhausted that she paid little attention.

Delight thought she was doing an admirable job of keeping panic at bay until a raucous voice above her singled her out.

“Hey, laddie! Tasted a good woman yet?”

At Delight’s mumbled husky, “No,” the prostitute laughed loudly.

“Then come on up, sugar. I can teach you at lot! I’ll keep you warm, too!”

Nervous, Delight hurried on, trying to ignore the ribald comments the whore yelled at her.

Ducking into an alley, she slumped against the rough brick wall. Berating herself, she wondered what she’d been thinking of when she’d come down to the wharf…how could she have forgotten that it was the roughest part of town?

Exhausted and cold, Delight determined it was time to find a place to spend the night. Hauling herself upright, she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of the patched, almost too-small boy’s jacket she wore. She had barely left the safety of the dark gangway when she heard two leering, conspiratorial voices.