“Charles Benjamin.”
That news put an abrupt halt to Rourke’s evening plans. Elizabeth’s father would never let him in the house with a case pending.
8
I do hope you will heed my advice,” Aunt Virginia said as she heaped scrambled eggs and cured ham on her plate at breakfast.
Elizabeth pondered how one woman could eat so much. Even after a week ashore, Aunt still claimed the need to recover her strength. They were the only ones at the dining table. Father had gone to court early, and Charlie still hadn’t poked his head out of his room.
“Are you listening?” Aunt said sharply.
“Of course.” Elizabeth selected the smallest piece of ham and one spoonful of eggs. “You want me to heed your advice.”
“Just so. You must take charge of the servants.” Aunt grabbed two of the piping hot rolls that Cook sweetened with coconut milk and sugar cane syrup. “We can begin after breakfast with a review of the day’s duties.”
“Yes, Aunt.” In the days that had passed since her aunt’s last scolding, Elizabeth hadn’t devised a way to deal with her dictates without injuring someone’s pride. She certainly did not want to whip Anabelle or even rap her on the knuckles, but she could think of no alternative that would both satisfy her aunt and keep peace in the household. If not Anabelle, who else could she punish? Cook had been there too long. Florie was too young. Nathan? The big groom could bear physical punishment, but she feared touching their only male servant with Father gone from the house every day.
“I have waited patiently for six days,” Aunt said between mouthfuls, “but you have done nothing to take control. You spend all your time flitting about town on this errand and that with nothing to show for it.”
Elizabeth could not admit she kept watch for the Windsprite. Yet as of yesterday noon, the sloop had not arrived. The remainder of her days had been occupied with a review of “social betterment,” as Aunt put it. Proper tea service, embroidery, and even piano lessons were again attempted, despite the utter lack of aptitude Elizabeth had already displayed in Charleston. By the time she had murdered three jigs and a sonata, even Aunt Virginia admitted defeat.
“Put the music away,” she had advised, holding a handkerchief to her forehead, “before I perish of a headache and the neighbors pray to go deaf.”
Elizabeth wished Aunt had never made Nathan roll the piano into the parlor. After yesterday’s torture, she hoped her aunt would ask him to take it back to Charlie’s room, the former music room, but she’d descended the stairs this morning to find it still in place.
“Are you listening, Elizabeth?” Aunt pulled her out of her thoughts. “You must tell Florie to polish the silver.”
“But she just did it on Monday.”
“That makes no matter. The silver must be polished and the furniture oiled.” Aunt’s cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled.
Elizabeth groaned. Only one thing gave her aunt this much delight—matchmaking.
Aunt leaned as far forward as her girth would admit. “We are to have a distinguished guest for supper.” She let that tantalizing morsel hang.
Rourke’s name rose to Elizabeth’s tongue, but she had the wisdom to keep it there. “We are in mourning. Wouldn’t a supper guest be unwise?”
“Nonsense.” Aunt settled back and lifted her teacup. “In such a provincial backwater, the rules might be eased, particularly when the caller is connected to the family.”
“The family? There is no one else in Key West related to us. Has Uncle Jonathan journeyed here?”
“Of course not. I meant that he is connected in a broad sense.” Aunt glanced around the room. “In addition to the silver, have Florie wash the crystal. I will accompany Cook to market. There will be no repeat of last week’s debacle.”
Elizabeth slowly breathed out. Aunt Virginia never left the house. Her departure would bring unexpected freedom. For perhaps an hour, she could do as she wished in her own home. The thought made her giddy.
Aunt leaned close again. “Are you not curious who our guest might be?”
“The judge, I suppose, or one of Father’s attorney friends. You did say he is of some importance.”
“Yes, he is important.” Aunt sat back with a smug smile. “Enough so that your brother has promised to join us.”
“He has?” The first tingle of nerves hit Elizabeth’s stomach, and the ham no longer appealed. She pushed away the plate.
“Even your brother recognizes the significance of this visitor,” Aunt said.
“Is it a doctor? Is it someone who can help Charlie?”
“A physician?” Aunt scoffed. “This guest is not coming for your brother’s benefit, my dear, he is here for you.”
Elizabeth’s last hope vanished.
With a satisfied nod, Aunt declared, “Mr. Finch will join us.”