“Would you be wantin’ me ta hold it for you, Miss Lizbeth?”
“I suppose you must.” She was grateful her aunt didn’t mention again the inconvenience of not having a lamp near the bunks. “Bring your stool near.”
Once everyone was situated, Aunt Virginia suggested a passage. “Shall we have the parable of the prodigal son, Elizabeth dear?”
More like the prodigal daughter. No doubt her aunt had chosen that particular parable to point out Elizabeth’s faults. After all, she was now returning home without having accomplished the one thing her parents had insisted upon—marriage. She regretted adding yet one more disappointment to her father’s heavy burden.
“Perhaps the wedding feast at Cana would be better?” Aunt hinted with a gleam in her eye.
Even worse. Elizabeth had discouraged every suitor who’d called at her aunt’s house. Aunt scolded that she was too particular, but none could compare to Rourke. Elizabeth had tried, truly she had, but the men of Charleston paled alongside a daring wrecker.
“Cana it shall be,” Aunt decided. “A wedding always lifts one’s spirits. Soon you’ll be out of mourning and able to accept suitors, though with one exception I can’t imagine there being a single respectable gentleman in such a godforsaken wilderness.”
“It is not a wilderness, and there are plenty of respectable gentlemen.”
Aunt lifted an imperious eyebrow. “That is not what your father wrote, and considering his . . . well, we shall leave it at that. Your father would know as well as anyone the quality of eligible suitors in Key West. That is why they insisted you come to Charleston. Poor Helen.” She sniffed and dabbed at her nose. “She would be so disappointed.”
The mention of Elizabeth’s mother cast a pall over her spirits. She had indeed disappointed Mother, who had encouraged her to make a good match. Yet her parents had dismissed as frivolous the only match that mattered.
The wind howled and the seas battered the hull, but nature’s tempests could not surpass the storm in Elizabeth’s heart. For four years she’d tried unsuccessfully to forget Rourke O’Malley. Soon she would set foot in his home port. There she could not avoid him. He might appear on the wharves or any street. One look into those green eyes and all other suitors would fade into the background. Once again she would be at odds with Father.
He did not like wreckers as a rule. He opposed them in admiralty court. But he didn’t truly know Rourke. He didn’t know the strength of his character. He didn’t know what Rourke had done for her.
Shame colored her cheeks.
The ship rolled violently, throwing Elizabeth out of the past. Anabelle fell off her stool. The lamp tipped and wobbled when her elbow hit the floor. Aunt Virginia clutched the counterpane to her throat, her eyes wide and cap askew. Elizabeth grabbed the teapot, ready to douse the flame, but Anabelle regained her balance and set the lamp on the desk.
Elizabeth took a shuddering breath and set down the teapot.
“Best get that lamp back in the holder before you drop it,” Aunt Virginia commanded.
“Yes, Miz Virginia.”
“A well-trained girl is sure of foot,” Aunt said to Elizabeth. “Training and discipline are essential. Remember that. The mistress must take command.”
“Mother always had the servants’ respect without barking out orders.”
“I’m sure she did, dear.” Aunt patted her hand. “But you haven’t had the benefit of her instruction. Follow my lead, and you will do well.”
Elizabeth could not read in such poor light. She put Aunt’s Bible back in her trunk. “But things are different in Key West.”
“Nonsense.” Aunt smoothed the counterpane. “Servants are the same everywhere. You must show your Mr. Finch that you can manage a household.”
Elizabeth cringed. Aunt considered him the only eligible suitor in Key West, but she found the man insufferably dull. “He is not my Mr. Finch.”
“He soon will be, if I’m not mistaken.”
Percival Finch had paid numerous visits to Aunt Virginia’s house last winter and spring. Though he was perfectly mannered and possessing passable looks, Elizabeth had found him even more devoid of spirit than other callers—and utterly unlike Rourke. All eyes turned to Captain O’Malley when he entered a room. If not for Mr. Finch’s gaudy waistcoats, a person could forget he was there. His departure had been a relief until she learned her father had hired him as clerk.
“I wish Mr. Finch hadn’t left before you decided to return to Key West.” Aunt Virginia sighed for what must be the hundredth time. “He is such pleasant company and so dedicated to your comfort. He would have made an excellent escort on this voyage. He will make a fine match for you. Your father agrees. I’m certain you will get reacquainted in no time.”
“My father agrees?”
Aunt nodded. “Your mother did too.”