“Only after you tell me I’m free to leave. Did Mr. Buetsch find his brooch?”
“No. Claims he doesn’t care anymore what happened to it.” Wright eyed the ship’s boat and then the Windsprite at anchor in the far reaches of the harbor. “Mighty odd. Put up a fuss, press charges, and then claim not to care.” He shook his head. “I’d put down a day’s wages that it’s in someone’s hands.”
“Yes, sir.” Rourke knew better than to argue with an ornery lawman.
“On the other hand, can’t rightly hold a man for theft when there’s no evidence.”
So Benjamin had done his job. Probably talked Buetsch into recanting his charges. That ought to feel good, but the dropping of charges meant Rourke had to sail for home. Soon. With the night of the escape ten days away, he’d have to either come up with a good reason to hang around the harbor or slip away to one of the hidden coves nearby.
“Thank you, Marshal.” He tipped a finger to his hat in acknowledgment.
“Don’t think I’ll forget,” the lawman blustered. “I’ve got my eyes on you, O’Malley, and on the pawnbrokers and jewelers. If I see anything resembling that brooch, I’ll come looking for you.” Seemingly satisfied with that threat, he moved on.
Rourke’s name hadn’t been cleared. If anything, it had been muddied.
“Good news fo’ de master,” John sang out from the boat. “Good news fo’ de mate. God be happy.”
“God might be happy, but we have work to do.” Rourke scrambled into the boat. “Let’s head out. I need to speak to the crew.”
Only the most loyal would stay with him for an unprofitable year in Bahamian waters. That could leave him very shorthanded for the crossing, but Rourke would not lie to his men. They must be made aware of his downturn in fortune. However, he couldn’t tell them the whole story quite yet. The less they knew of his plan to bring along an unexpected and illegal passenger, the safer they and his plan would be.
Still, as the boat pulled away from the wharf, a terrible emptiness settled in. He had waited four years for Elizabeth. Could she wait just one?
Elizabeth could not read the diary during the day. After speaking in private with Anabelle about her nighttime excursion, she had to endure Aunt Virginia hovering over her every move. When Caroline and her mother paid a visit, Elizabeth was glad to leave the older women in the parlor to discuss the new ladies’ temperance league while she and her friend withdrew to the veranda.
“Thank you.” Elizabeth sighed as she and Caroline enjoyed the breezes. “I couldn’t bear another minute of supervision. I do wish you had called sooner. We haven’t had much chance to talk.”
“It has only been a couple weeks. You have much to do to get properly settled.” The petite woman leaned forward to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand. “Things will return to normal in time.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “What is normal? Everything has changed.” A lump formed in her throat at the thought of Mother’s diary. Maybe reading her mama’s words would bring back her soft voice and gentle advice. “I miss her.”
Caroline didn’t need to ask who Elizabeth meant. “Of course you do. The next time I visit, we will bring flowers for your mother’s grave.”
Elizabeth swiped away a tear. “I seem to be a basketful of emotions these days.” This time she squeezed Caroline’s hand. Though plain and undistinguished in society’s terms, Caroline Brown had always been her dearest friend after Anabelle. “Thank you for your consideration. I would like to do that. Perhaps we might continue the walk into town.” Her mind drifted toward the harbor, but her ears noted Aunt’s strident voice through the parlor windows. “Today wouldn’t do.”
Caroline leaned close and shielded her face with her fan. “His ship is still here.”
Elizabeth felt an uncontrollable thrill despite the finality of his words last night, but it was not something she could admit, even to Caroline. “I presume you don’t mean Mr. Finch.”
Caroline laughed. “Certainly not. Someone far more interesting.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The girls are plotting ways to claim a dance.”
“A dance?”
“At the Harvest Ball a week from Saturday.”
“Harvest Ball?” Aunt Virginia screeched from inside the parlor. “A ball is just the thing to lift everyone’s spirits.” She bent close to Mrs. Brown to share a confidence.
“This is horrible,” Elizabeth groaned. “Now I shall be pestered day and night.”
Caroline laughed. “You will find it charming. One of the ladies from New England suggested it last year. Apparently the Northerners celebrate the harvest with a feast and dancing. All the ladies agreed to try it last October, and it ended up quite the success.”