Aunt waved a hand toward the envelope. “Use this to make your way in the world. Livvy wrote that you are quite capable of caring for yourself, but we wanted to give you this assistance until you can secure a position as a governess or housekeeper.”
Prosperity stiffened. She was the daughter of a whaler. Her fiancé was an engineer. Her future did not depend on going into service. Mrs. Franklin was right. David would help. And Prosperity would turn the other cheek on the affront.
Swallowing her pride, she managed to speak. “Do thank Uncle Harold for me.”
“You can thank him yourself. We must leave now in order to catch the boat to the city. You may escort me to the carriage.”
Prosperity could not regret Aunt’s early departure. For her mother’s sake, she expressed sorrow as she led her aunt to the door. Behind her, the women carried the food to the table. The moment Prosperity escorted her aunt off the porch, the men and children rushed inside, leaving Prosperity alone in front of the house with her aunt and uncle.
He tipped a hand to his beaver. “Miss Jones.”
“Uncle Harold.”
“I fear we must leave.”
She nodded. “It can’t be helped.”
“Indeed.”
“We will be late for the boat,” Aunt Florence said.
He helped his wife into the hired carriage. Before climbing in himself, he turned back to Prosperity.
“Be a good girl, now.” He too did not meet Prosperity’s gaze. “That little sum should help you make a start of things.” He cleared his throat, muttered something unintelligible, and then entered the carriage. With a final apologetic glance, he closed the door.
After the carriage rolled from view, Prosperity broke the seal on the envelope. A single sheet of paper, unmarked, cradled a number of large bills. She could not count the sum now, in the street, but it appeared enough to settle accounts and pay for room and board until David learned of her circumstances. A letter would take weeks or even a month or more to arrive. Then the same time for his reply to return. By then . . .
Prosperity pressed the envelope to her midsection, overcome by the speed with which the world was closing in upon her.
Help me, Lord. Show me Thy path and the way Thou wouldst have me walk.
The simple prayer calmed her.
“She’s gone, is she?” Mrs. Franklin joined her in the yard. “Good riddance, if you ask me. Livvy deserved better from her sister, but there’s no sense fussing over what can’t be changed. Come, dear, let’s go inside and have a bite to eat.” She took Prosperity’s arm. “There will be plenty of time to consider your future tomorrow.”
Prosperity did not move, for the answer to her prayer struck with perfect clarity. Why wait for letters to wend their way south and then north again?
“I will go to Key West.”
Mrs. Franklin’s jaw dropped. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am not only serious, I am certain.”
“But my dear, you are letting your emotions speak. You have suffered a great loss and are not thinking clearly. Give yourself time to grieve. By the time your young man returns, you will be in a much better state of mind.”
“I am perfectly sane. In fact, my thoughts have never been clearer.”
“Naturally you want to see your fiancé, but do be practical. Even if you could afford such a voyage, someone must travel with you.”
Prosperity clutched the envelope. “I shall travel alone.”
“Alone? You cannot. Sea travel is neither comfortable nor safe. I speak from experience, dear. Mr. Franklin and I have traveled to Charleston in the past. It’s not a voyage to be taken without great care. A woman alone?” She shuddered. “Your reputation and quite likely your person would suffer.”
“It does not matter. David awaits me.”
“You cannot mean that.” Mrs. Franklin’s voice rose with every word, her expression earnest. “I will account your rash decision to grief, but even if you will not guard your reputation, you must consider the uncertainty of the seas. Your father was a seasoned sailor, yet the sea claimed his life. The risk is too great. Better your fiancé return to you.”
“He cannot. He would never leave his post.”
“Then wait. You are welcome at our house.”
Though Mrs. Franklin’s concerns chipped at Prosperity’s confidence, she would not be swayed. When weighed against servitude or destitution, the risk was small, for if she succeeded, her beloved awaited.
Prosperity squared her shoulders. “I am sailing for Key West, and you cannot persuade me otherwise.”
Key West
That Night
Lt. David Latham’s hand trembled. A drop of ink splotched onto the white paper.
“Not again.” His muttered frustration echoed off the walls of the small but adequate quarters.