They set off at a brisk pace.
Tom kept his voice low. “I was watching for Anabelle like we’d planned. She arrived with Miss Benjamin in the carriage.”
“What did you say?” Rourke stopped him. “Anabelle was inside the carriage?”
“Ye-es. Is that unusual?”
“Very unusual. Charles Benjamin never allows servants to ride with the family. Who else was in the carriage?”
“Mr. Benjamin, but he got out while they were waiting in line outside the hall. Then a little later Mr. Finch left in a hurry.”
“So Finch was with them.” That didn’t surprise him. Benjamin had been promoting Finch to Elizabeth since her arrival, but a hasty departure meant something had gone wrong with that plan. “How did he look when he left the carriage? Pleased or worried?”
“Worried. He headed straight for the harbor.”
“The harbor?” Rourke started walking again. He could think better when afoot. “Why on earth would he go there?”
“I don’t know, but about an hour later he came back to the hall and went inside.”
“Hmm.” Finch’s actions suggested he went to meet someone. Since Tom said he later joined Poppinclerk, Rourke suspected that was who he’d met at the harbor. “Still no Anabelle?”
Tom shook his head. “She stayed in the backyard with the other servants until Miss Benjamin joined her. Then they left together.”
That sounded as if the two women had planned all along to travel together. Something had happened to drive them into the surprising alliance, something that had also prompted Finch and Poppinclerk to ally. “Charles Benjamin?”
“Never left the hall.”
They had reached the edge of the cemetery. Rourke motioned for quiet, but his mind still raced. If Benjamin hadn’t followed his daughter or Mr. Finch, he’d either left the work to others or knew nothing of what was happening tonight. Rourke couldn’t believe the latter. That meant Charles Benjamin was keeping his hands clean until the very last moment, when success was assured.
He and Tom hurried down the empty, sparsely settled streets. Before long, homes would press into this area. Already several had been built on the quieter southern side of the island, but the dense hammocks and mangrove thickets still hung on here and there. The number of buildings increased as they neared the lighthouse.
Suddenly Tom stopped and whipped around, knocking Rourke off balance. While Tom took off at a run, Rourke tumbled back into a pitch-black gap between two shacks. He stepped on uneven ground and fell. The back of his head struck the building.
“Rourke,” a sweet feminine voice gasped.
He must be dreaming. Tom couldn’t have pushed him into the exact hiding spot of the two ladies.
“Rourke.” Elizabeth urged him to turn from the beckoning dark waters.
He shook his head and clarity returned. One fact was clear. Tom had not only disappeared, but he’d taken the cutlass with him. It was now up to Rourke to save the ladies—without the benefit of a weapon.
Elizabeth dropped to her knees, finally able to breathe. “Rourke.” She felt around in the dark until she found his slumped form.
“They’re gone,” Anabelle whispered.
Hiding in this cramped and filthy space hadn’t eased her pounding heart, especially when Captain Poppinclerk and Mr. Finch showed up, prowling the street and poking into every building. Sooner or later, she and Anabelle would be discovered.
Then Rourke and Tom had arrived. Mr. Finch and Captain Poppinclerk slipped into the shadows at the very next building. Elizabeth wanted to warn Rourke, but Anabelle wouldn’t let her.
All seemed lost, and then Tom shoved Rourke, sending him into the tiny space that she and Anabelle occupied. He hit the ground hard.
“Mr. Rourke is hurt,” Anabelle whispered.
“I’m all right,” he groaned, “just a little woozy.”
“Let me get my handkerchief.” Elizabeth rummaged in her bag, but the handkerchief had gotten tangled in the brooch. She pulled the whole lot out and unraveled the mess.
“I’m not bleeding,” he insisted. “Give me a second to gather my wits.”
Elizabeth wrapped her fingers around the brooch. They must run again. The distance to Rourke’s boat was far. Too far. Anabelle was the stronger sister. She could make it. Moreover, Mr. Finch didn’t care about a slave. He wanted Elizabeth. If he caught them, he would let Anabelle go. Her sister had a chance at happiness, though life would be a struggle in a new land.
Elizabeth handed the brooch to Anabelle. “Take this.”
“No,” her sister whispered.
She closed Anabelle’s fingers around the brooch. “For your family. Have Rourke help you sell it once you get there.”
Meanwhile, Rourke had risen to his feet. “We need to get out of here. The men will be back as soon as they realize Tom is leading them on a wild goose chase.”
They stepped out of the cramped space, staying in the shadows.