Then the diary ended. Not a single word after that. No explanation. No names. Nothing.
Elizabeth slammed the book shut. “How could you?” she cried out.
A night breeze whispered through the tamarind leaves. Somewhere a shutter banged. Father paced the hallway beneath her room. Aunt Virginia snored and then coughed. The familiar sounds could not soothe. This diary had turned everything upside down. Instead of fighting for her daughter, Mother had given the illegitimate girl the same benefits as Elizabeth. How could she?
Approaching Poppinclerk was a last resort. As the days passed, Rourke puzzled out another way to get Anabelle out of the Benjamin house the night of the ball. John wanted to sneak her out, but Rourke preferred to act. Drive an ax through the fence and pull her out, except that would only put a bullet in his back or clap his legs in irons. No, he needed another idea.
So he gathered the men. It was time his crew knew the whole plan—and the risks. Someone might see a solution that he couldn’t.
It took precious few minutes to detail their mission and the obstacles they faced.
“I don’t want a one of you to accept blame if we’re caught,” Rourke said, even though his men all appeared eager to whisk away John’s wife. “As far as you know, we’re heading to Briland to fish. Nothing more. Understand?”
John caught the flaw in his attempt to shield the crew. “Der be no women fishin’ on de Windsprite.”
Anabelle. Rourke scrubbed his whiskers. “We might have to disguise her as a man.” At the rumble of protest, he added, “Only as a last resort. Once we reach Briland, you can sign on to another ship or fish with me. I won’t hold it against a man for wanting to return to Key West. Any questions?”
“How long we settin’ here?” asked Rander, a cantankerous deckhand with a soft heart.
“Five more days.”
Five short days before the pendulum swung to either freedom or death. Somehow he had to devise a way to spring Anabelle from Benjamin’s trap. A rat would gnaw off its leg to get free. Barracuda and sharks could bite their way off a hook and line. The crafty lobster hid deep in the jagged reef. None of those offered a solution, but something tickled at Rourke’s memory. As a girl, Elizabeth had sneaked out of the house. He’d seen her once, crawling through that large wild tamarind like a monkey. Anabelle was no girl, but she was strong. That tree extended over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. Perhaps she could climb out that way. Then they’d rendezvous at the appointed location.
He spelled out the idea to his men. All but John seconded it.
“How she get to Miz Lizbeth’s room dat late? Massa lock dem in de back.”
John had found a flaw in his plan, but Rourke didn’t want to admit it. “Do you have a better idea?”
John’s head drooped.
“I do,” Tom Worthington said.
All heads turned toward him.
“It’s the night of the ball, correct?” Tom looked around the assembled group. “She could go there with Miss Benjamin and slip away while everyone else is busy.”
Few ladies brought their maids to such a function—at least in Key West—but maybe Anabelle could convince Elizabeth. It would also be difficult to disappear from a ball, but Anabelle had managed to reach his ship a half dozen times without being seen.
Rourke had to admit it was the best option they had. “It’s worth trying. Tom, you’re going to have to play messenger again. I’m going to write a note describing both ways to get out of the house. Can you get it to her?”
Tom nodded. “If I can get near.”
“Stay in town until you do.”
“What if they don’t let her out of the house?” Tom asked. “Mr. Benjamin must suspect something if he’s locking the gate.”
“Don’t she go to market?” Rander asked.
Rourke could have blessed the pock-faced sailor with a kiss on each cheek. “That’s the answer. Try to catch her at market.”
“In the daytime?” Tom sounded skeptical. “Someone will see me.”
“True.” Rourke rubbed his chin. This could go badly wrong, and Tom was smart to consider options. “If you think anyone is following you, don’t come back to the ship. We will have to trust you finished the job.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Good.” Rourke clapped him on the shoulder. “I know you won’t fail us.”