Love's Rescue (Keys of Promise #1)

The boy lifted his hands to his mouth as the boat wobbled unsteadily. “Rourke?”


He hesitated. The voice sounded familiar. Moreover, the boy knew him by name. Maybe Tom had hired a local lad to bring a message. Someone Rourke knew. Or it could be a trap. Poppinclerk’s warning sprang to mind.

John tapped him on the shoulder. He wanted to know what to do.

Rourke wasn’t sure. He motioned for John to wait and peered into the spyglass again.

At that moment, the lad lost his balance. Arms flailed, and a high-pitched screech rent the night air. The hood fell off, and in the last instant before the rower plunged into the water, the moonlight revealed long, golden hair.

Elizabeth!

Rourke threw aside the spyglass and dove over the ship’s side.



“What are you doing here?” Rourke squatted in front of her, his eyes blazing in the glow of the lantern.

Elizabeth pulled the wool blanket tight around her shoulders. Seawater from her skirts pooled on the deck of the Windsprite, and the cooler night air made her shiver, but she hadn’t felt this alive in four years. “I rowed the skiff across. It wasn’t terribly difficult. Walking to where it was hidden was far worse.”

“I didn’t ask how. I asked why.”

He was being unreasonable. “I want to go with you.” She’d told him this a dozen times, but he refused to believe her.

“Don’t you know how dangerous this little adventure was? You could have been hurt. You might have drowned.”

“I wasn’t and I didn’t.”

Rourke rocked to his feet and paced a short distance away before pivoting back to face her. “How did you find us? Tell me that. Only one person in Key West knows where we’re anchored.”

“Tom.”

“Tom told you? I’ll make him pay.”

“You will do no such thing.” She jutted out her chin. “I found him, not the other way around, and he refused to say a thing for the longest time. I forced it out of him.”

“You? Forced it from him? How? Did you hold a pistol to his head?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Common sense and persuasion go much farther than violence.”

Rourke growled. “What common sense and persuasion?”

She tugged the blanket a little tighter. “I needed to see you. He needed to get a message to you. Our purposes matched.”

“Not good enough.” He walked away from her again, clearly incensed.

“He told me not to let anyone see me. I was very careful, even though I have no idea why you insist on all this secrecy. I promise not to tell a soul. Moreover, if you take me with you, it will be impossible for me to tell anyone.”

“Not possible.” He stalked back toward her. “How did you even know Tom was in town?”

“I saw him talking to Anabelle.”

He growled again. “Then she knows you’re here too.”

“She knows I wanted to see Tom. That’s all.”

“Where is she?”

“Safe at home. Where else? I can’t bring a maid with me.”

This time, Rourke’s Negro mate muttered something unintelligible.

Rourke shot the man a warning glare before returning his attention to her. “What was the message Tom asked you to bring to me?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and pictured the words she had memorized. “He said to tell you that all is done as directed and the man in the alley is Mr. Poppinclerk. What does that mean?”

Rourke ran a crooked finger below his lower lip, back and forth, deep in thought. “It means exactly what he said. Now that you’ve relayed the message, we need to get you home.”

The man took stubbornness to a new height. “Like I told you, I can’t go home.” Why wouldn’t he believe her? “I love you, not Mr. Finch. If I go home, Father will announce that we are engaged. I could never marry him.”

“Then don’t. No one can force you to marry.”

She shuddered at the memory of Mr. Finch’s attempted kiss. How far would he go to claim her? Something had led Mother to marry Father even though she did not love him. She had assumed Mother obeyed Grandmama and Grandpapa. What if that wasn’t the only reason?

Rourke knelt before her again and gently lifted her chin. “Look at me, Elizabeth. You are a strong woman. Remember that. No one can force you to do something you do not want to do.”

He knew what she faced, and yet he would not help. Elizabeth choked back tears. “For an entire year?”

“Perhaps.” He smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead, and she leaned into the caress.

She had to make him understand. “I can’t live without you.”

“You managed for four years. You can last a little longer.”

“I shouldn’t have left without word last time. I’ve changed. I would never do that again.”

“I know.”

“Then why not take me with you? Is it because I let you take the blame for what happened to Charlie?” She knew what she must do, but it was so difficult. “I shouldn’t have. I never should have. It was my fault. I’m sorry.”

He touched her cheek. “Look at me, Elizabeth.”

Christine Johnson's books