Friend was one thing. But sister?
Elizabeth buried her face in the pillow again to drown the sobs. How could she accept this? Why had Mother insisted Anabelle be raised as her equal? How could she even think such a thing? They weren’t and never would be equals. Elizabeth could inherit her mother’s family fortune. She was an heiress. She was legitimate.
Even worse, Mother forgave Father. How could she? How could she keep his mistress and illegitimate daughter under the same roof? Elizabeth pounded the bolster, the pillows, the mattress. Mother’s reasons had gone to the grave with her.
Did Charlie know? He and Mother had spent many hours together during his recovery. Perhaps he already knew the terrible truth. Did everyone but her know?
She shoved the Bible away and it crashed to the floor. Mother’s Bible! Horrified, she flew off the bed and found it lying askew on the floor, pages torn from the binding.
“No, no,” she sobbed as she attempted to replace the pages. Did everything she touched fall to pieces?
Paul’s epistle to the Galatians had been torn completely loose at the third chapter. As she pressed it back in place, her eye was drawn to the words directly above her fingers.
There is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.
The words knifed deep into her heart. Bond. Slave. She had seen Anabelle as lesser, but the apostle Paul clearly stated that they were equals. That was what Mother had meant. That was why she had insisted on raising them side by side, why she made Father promise to do so. In spite of the terrible betrayal she must have felt, in the depth of despair she extended grace.
Elizabeth sobbed, ashamed.
Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me.
She pressed her forehead to the mattress and wept.
This time the tears cleansed, and by the time dawn graced the horizon with its glorious oranges and pinks, she knew what she must do.
Rourke dropped a blanket and cutlass into the ship’s boat. The weapon was for Tom. Rourke would go unarmed.
John gripped his shoulder. “I go.”
“I know you want to do this, old friend, but a white man stands a better chance bringing your wife through town.”
Rourke’s argument had a sliver of truth at the core, but his real reason centered on something far less noble than ensuring Anabelle’s safety. He must settle things with Elizabeth. Since their last meeting, he had gone over her plea hundreds of times. She had come to him from desperation, and he had turned her away with a shallow promise and a cry for duty. He wasn’t fool enough to think she would be able to outwit her father for an entire year. Charles Benjamin would use every manipulation available to bend her to his will.
Tonight Rourke must face the man, armed only with the truth and reliance on God.
He clapped John on the shoulder. “You are in command. Once Anabelle is aboard, leave.”
“I wait for my captain.”
“No. Leave at once. Set sail for Andros Island. Get your wife to freedom first before going home to Briland.”
“No, sir. Dis not good.”
“It is good, and it’s right.” Rourke pulled a paper from his coat. “If I do not return, this gives you ownership of the Windsprite.” As much as it hurt to give up the sloop that had seen him through good times and bad, he would not see it fall into Benjamin’s hands. “The wording might be simple, but any court should accept it.”
John looked with wonder at the paper. “Why you do dis?”
“Because you’re my friend.”
For a second, John’s shoulders trembled before he cleared his throat and lifted his head. “No one ever do such thing fo’ ole John.”
Rourke cleared his throat to cover the welling emotions. “It’s about time, then.” Before he lost control, he swung his legs over the bulwark and descended the ladder to the ship’s boat.
From below, his sloop loomed tall, her sleek hull faster than any other wrecker out of Key West. He ran his hand along the smooth Madeira planking. He had grown up on the Windsprite. His father had bought her as a derelict and rebuilt her from the keel up. Every plank had been crafted with love. Until now, giving her away would have felt like betraying his pa, but at that moment he knew that his father would approve. Pa, who had rescued John from a cruel master, was doubtless smiling down on him today.
Rourke gazed into the endless blue sky. If tonight went wrong, this might be his last glimpse of the sun.
Father leaned back in his desk chair, apparently no longer concerned that Elizabeth had interrupted his reading. A smile slowly curved his lips. “I’m glad you came to your senses.”
Elizabeth clung to the back of the nearest throne chair for support. This had taken every ounce of courage she could muster. “After a great deal of prayer.”