Love's Rescue (Keys of Promise #1)

Now Elizabeth embraced her friend. “I’m so glad to see you, more than you can imagine.” For a moment she toyed with the idea of telling Caroline what she’d read but dismissed it just as quickly. That was not the sort of thing shared outside the family. “I wish my mother was still here.”


Caroline, donned in a sensible straw bonnet and a rust and cream striped gown, pointed to her basket of flowers. “That’s why we are visiting her grave.”

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not.” The cold marble had given her chills when she visited with Aunt. “Mother isn’t there. I do appreciate your efforts, though. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” Caroline squeezed her hand. “The flowers will look just as nice in a vase.”

After Elizabeth left the blooms in Anabelle’s hands, Caroline suggested they walk to the shops.

Aunt Virginia sailed into the foyer, making no attempt to hide that she had been eavesdropping. “A walk is out of the question. It threatens rain.”

“Then we shall duck inside if a shower approaches.” Elizabeth had to get away from this house before she said or did something that would rend the fragile peace.

Caroline added unbeatable ammunition. “I would so like Lizzie’s help picking out gloves for the ball.”

“The ball!” Aunt brightened at once. “Why didn’t you say so? Naturally you must go. Elizabeth, you could stand a new pair too.” She smiled coyly. “And when you return, I hope to have a little surprise for the two of you.”

Though Caroline dutifully begged to know what that might be, Aunt refused to divulge the secret, other than that it too pertained to the ball.

“The entire town is abuzz,” Caroline said when they finally strolled down the street.

Indeed it was busy. Servants carried baskets, some atop their heads. Bells clanged, and workmen called out. The roll of wagon wheels, the smell of fish, and the crunch of gravel tickled the senses. Women scurried here and there, many with children in tow. Men drove wagons laden with barrels or crates. Elizabeth searched the faces of those near her age, both hoping to see a resemblance and terrified that she would.

Caroline stopped in front of the first shop window. “All everyone talks about is the ball.”

“Not as much as Aunt Virginia.” Elizabeth heaved a sigh and pretended interest in the shoes on display. “I have done nothing but walk with a book atop my head, practice sitting properly, and engage in meaningless conversation. If you hadn’t paid a visit, I should have gone mad.”

Caroline laughed as they moved on. “I suppose now we shall be forced to at least look at gloves. I saw some lovely lace ones in the Greene Mercantile.”

“If they fit, I will put them on Father’s account, and then we may do something more pleasurable. Unless, of course, you want them.”

“You know what I think of such extravagances. I’m surprised your aunt believed me.”

“I’m surprised you’re even going to the ball.”

Caroline inclined her head. “Mother quite rightly pointed out that the scions of society will be in attendance. What better place to promote the league?”

“The temperance league? At a ball?”

“I’ll admit it is a bit of a stretch.”

“Spirits will doubtless be served.”

Caroline jutted out her pointed chin. Though lovely in every way that mattered, the brunette would be considered plain by most. “Jesus ate with sinners. I am simply following His example.”

Elizabeth let that idea settle. “You are more courageous than I could ever be. Why, it’s like Daniel stepping into the lions’ den.”

Caroline laughed. “These lions prefer to use their claws, I fear, but as a minister’s daughter, I am granted a little leeway by most. They might listen more keenly, however, if you joined me.”

“I couldn’t. Father would object.” His preference for brandy had grown over the years, not diminished. “Besides, if not for Aunt Virginia’s insistence, I wouldn’t even attend.”

“I thought you hoped to see a certain someone.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat despite knowing Rourke had refused her. Would this embarrassing attraction never end? “I do not.”

Caroline heaved a sigh. “What a relief. I was afraid you would be disappointed.” She stopped in front of a window display of parasols and bonnets.

“In what?” Elizabeth choked when she noticed her friend’s flushed cheeks. “Are you . . . that is, do you . . . or rather, has a gentleman caught your attention?”

Caroline stared at her as if she were mad. “What an odd thing to say. Of course not. This is about your certain someone. I heard—” She abruptly stopped.

“What did you hear?”

Caroline shook her head.

Elizabeth grabbed her arm. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Good afternoon, sir.” Caroline looked past Elizabeth. “I don’t believe we are acquainted.”

Elizabeth whirled around. “Tom!”

Caroline’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mr. Worthington,” Elizabeth corrected herself. “A fine day, isn’t it?”

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