He quashed the thought straightaway. Before he let his heart rule his head, he would make certain Marianne had no regrets for her impetuous flight from their father’s home four years ago. That would be the proof of the pudding as far as he was concerned.
But as the pilot boat towed the Dauntless over the bars into St. Augustine Harbor, Thomas still could not erase from his mind the picture of the uncombed but blissful merchant and his happy bride.
“And your wife’s name is Alice?” Dinah sat beside a soldier’s bed in the infirmary penning a letter for him. Ignoring the unpleasant odors of the sickroom, she dipped her quill into the inkwell on her lap desk and waited for his response.
“Aye, Miss.” The man, who appeared to be in his forties, could barely speak above a croak, and his twitching eyes conveyed his concern. “Tell her I’m well, will you? I’ll not have the lass worryin’…” A cough interrupted his anxious plea.
“Shh. It’s all right.” Dinah’s heart ached with understanding. While her own loved ones lived a mere two-day ride away, it might as well be an ocean that separated them for the few times they saw one another each year. “I’ll write only what you tell me to.”
“God bless you, Miss.” He gave her a quivering smile.
After adding some cheery details that the soldier dictated about life in East Florida, she spent a few minutes sketching his broad, pock-marked face in the corner of the foolscap. She softened the scars and the harsh lines of his illness, but the likeness was clear. This was her favorite part of preparing messages for the soldiers’ loved ones at home in England.
“Here you are.” She held the page out. “You can make your mark at the bottom.”
“Why, Miss, that’s a fine drawing.” Tears filled the man’s reddened eyes. “That’s a special kindness to me and my Alice. God bless you.” He repeated, “God bless you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Dinah swallowed the emotion that rose up to threaten her composure. Being useful to these brave men gave her life purpose and a strong sense of satisfaction, but she must not damage their pride with her pity. “I’ll put this in the post at Panton and Leslie for the next outgoing ship.”
She gathered the letters she had written over the past two hours and carried the lap desk back to Dr. Wellsey’s office, then made her way to the front of the building. Smelling as always of liniments and herbs, the physician met her in the entry carrying a small jar.
“A gift from Joanna.” He held it out to her. “Honey.” His wrinkled brow revealed some hesitation on his part. “I should tell you it is from her mother.”
“Oh, my. This is a rare treat.” Dinah accepted the jar with a smile, her mouth watering at the thought of honey on her morning bread. While Artemis might decline a gift from the Cherokee woman, Anne would be de lighted. “Did Mrs. Ramsey gather it from her hives?”
Relief softened his features. “Yes. She and her sisters have become quite adept at the art of beekeeping.”
“Ah, how grand. Please tell all of them we will enjoy this very much.” Dinah moved toward the door. “And tell Joanna I am looking forward to our trip to Bennington Plantation. We do not have many opportunities to visit with each other.” All due to Artemis’s censure. But she would not say so.
“True.” Dr. Wellsey followed and opened the door for her. “We’re eager to go as well. Mr. Moberly is a good friend, and I often wonder if it was wise of me to leave the plantation. St. Johns Towne has many medical needs and only an apothecary to tend them.”
“But you’re needed here as well.” His presence alleviated the burden on the sole military surgeon, Dr. Yeats, in caring for the sick military men. And she could not think of what she would do without her ministry to the soldiers, which could only be accomplished under this good doctor’s watchful, protective eye.
He released a wry chuckle. “Yes, but Joanna would be happier if we lived closer to her family.”
His words jolted Dinah. Twice in the past few minutes, she had been reminded of the longing in her own heart to be near family. “I understand.” Indeed, she did. But what use was it to long for them when they insisted she would be happier in St. Augustine? If not for Thomas—
Another jolt. Indeed, she had been happier since he came. But then, true to the life of a naval officer, he was gone from the city again and frequently would be. Unreasoning resentment filled her heart. Like everyone else she cared for, he’d left her behind. Well, she simply would not permit herself to care that much for him.
“I wish you good day, Doctor.” She tucked the honey jar and letters into her burlap bag, pulled her straw bonnet onto her head and stepped out into the sunlight to post the letters. With every firm step on the hot, sandy path toward the city, she pounded determination into her mind. She would not let her heart rule her head.
June sunshine beat down on her, even through her hat, as she reached the city gates and trod down St. George Street. The ocean breezes did not reach the narrower lanes, which became like ovens where the overpowering smells of horses, cattle and unwashed humans permeated the air. Dinah hastened her steps to escape the still, choking atmosphere.
She came at last to the bustling, open Parade in front of the governor’s house, where she noticed a familiar couple in the shade of a live oak tree. Dinah thought the young lady leaned a bit too close to the naval officer, and as she came near, she was sure of it.
“Elizabeth,” she called.
Her friend turned and waved. “Dinah, come greet Mr. Wayland, just back from patrolling the coast.”
Dinah’s heart leaped to her throat. The Dauntless had returned. Forcing down her ridiculous giddiness, she joined her friends. “How good to see you, Mr. Wayland. I hope your voyage was successful.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Templeton.” He swept off his bicorne hat and made an elaborate bow. Elizabeth gazed at him as if he were Adonis. In fact, Dinah also thought he was rather handsome, but he knew it as well, which spoiled his appeal, to her way of thinking. “I can say with assurance that St. Augustine is safer today because of our little voyage.”
Elizabeth spread her fan open and tilted her head. “See what Mr. Wayland brought me?” The ivory implement was carved with delicate filigree and painted with rows of pink and blue flowers. “He was just telling me that the Dauntless accosted a pirate ship and confiscated a large cargo of contraband.”
“Well, I—I—” Mr. Wayland’s tanned face grew red.
“A pirate ship?” Dinah’s pulse quickened. Now perhaps she could stop worrying about Jamie. “Was it Nighthawk?”
“Mr. Wayland actually boarded the ship himself,” Elizabeth gushed, “with half of the armed sailors from the Dauntless. They had to go below—” she spoke in a hushed tone “—and you can just imagine how dangerous that was.” She gazed at him with adoration beaming from her eyes. “I know I can imagine it. Think of all those pirates hiding in the dark hold waiting to attack His Majesty’s sailors, and not a shred of conscience about doing it.”
“But was it Nighthawk?” Dinah wanted to shake the information from Mr. Wayland, who suddenly appeared nonplussed. “You must not keep us in suspense.”
“Miss Templeton.” Thomas strode across the Parade, a warm smile gracing his lips. “I was on my way to call on you, but here you are.”
Against the warning in her head, she rushed to meet him, coming just short of gripping his arm. “Oh, Captain, do tell us the pirate you accosted is Nighthawk. Did you arrest him? Is he imprisoned at the fort?”
He stopped, and his mouth hung open just a bit. “I beg your pardon?” A dark frown came over his whole face, and he stared beyond her. “Mr. Wayland, may I have a word with you?” Despite sounding like a request, it was clearly an order.
“Ah, yes, sir.” The lieutenant’s normal baritone voice rose to a tenor pitch. “Um, ladies, will you excuse me?”
While Dinah and Elizabeth watched, the two officers walked, or rather, marched some twenty feet away. Even in the busy, noisy Parade, Thomas’s anger was evid
ent in his low, rumbling, indistinguishable words and the way he bent over the shorter man. Mr. Wayland lifted his hands in a placating gesture, but Dinah had confidence the captain would not strike him. People walking by skirted the two men, eyeing them with curiosity.
“Whatever do you suppose is the matter?” Elizabeth gripped Dinah’s arm. “Will they explain it to us?”
Dinah could feel her friend’s trembling. She patted her young friend’s hand. “I am certain they will. Otherwise, they would have gone to their quarters…or someplace more private to discuss it.” Disappointment had already claimed her. No doubt they had not captured the infamous pirate.
After several moments, they returned.
“My dear Miss Markham.” Thomas gave her a slight bow. “Mr. Wayland has something to tell you.”
Beneath his tan, the young officer blanched. “Miss Markham, please forgive me. I took the liberty of…of jesting with you about the nature of our encounter at sea. ’Twas a mere merchantman, who gladly sold us some of his wares.” He grasped her hands. “Please forgive me. I was preparing to tell you my report was all foolishness, but then Miss Templeton arrived and…” His smile was more of a grimace. “I rather lost control of the situation.”
Dinah released a sigh. Of course he would have told Elizabeth the truth before the misinformation spread throughout the city, for otherwise he would have been branded a liar.
“Oh, Mr. Wayland.” Young Elizabeth beamed up at him, every bit as adoringly as before. “To think that you would banter with me in such an amusing way.” She tapped his forearm with her new fan. “I am certain Mamá would like to see my gift and you. Will you kindly escort me home?”
Looking like a lovesick puppy, Mr. Wayland offered his arm. “Miss Markham, I would be delighted. Miss Templeton.” He bowed to Dinah. “Captain Moberly.” He gave the captain an informal salute, and the two of them sauntered away.
Dinah clapped her hand to her mouth and stared out toward Matanzas Bay. Beside her, she heard Thomas snort out a chuckle. They locked gazes and began to laugh in earnest. She felt her mirth clear down to her middle, and her eyes began to water.
“Oh, my goodness,” was all that she could gasp out. Then the full import of the truth came home to her, and she exhaled with disappointment. Nighthawk had not been caught, and so Jamie was still in danger of being accosted.
“My dear Miss Templeton, may I escort you home?” Thomas offered his arm, and his twinkling blue eyes chased away her moment of worry.
“I would be delighted. On the way, I must post some letters.” She lifted her bag.
“So you have been busy at the infirmary.” The merriment in his eyes turned to a warm, kind look that further soothed her heart.
“Yes.” She looped her free arm in his, and they began their trek. “It is the least I can do to show gratitude to the soldiers of the garrison, and your sailors as well, when they are ill and so far from home.” The strings of her burlap bag, hanging over her other arm, began to pinch her skin, and she twisted her hand to ease the discomfort.
Without missing a step, the captain relieved her of the burden. “The people of St. Augustine are exceptional in their hospitality.”
“We endeavor to see our protectors do not become bored. In fact, Mrs. Pilot has arranged for a picnic at Anastasia Island plantation. It will take place tomorrow after the church service. Some of the ladies have been baking all week. Will you come?”
“How could I decline such a thoughtful gesture?”
She smiled up at him. “Now you must tell me more about this merchant man Mr. Wayland mistook for a pirate!”
After a brief stop to post the letters at Panton and Leslie’s mercantile, Dinah and the captain continued their walk across the city.
Thomas grinned and began his story, but as they chatted one thing struck her. Mr. Wayland had brought Elizabeth a gift, a clear indication that he meant to court her. In contrast, Thomas did not bring Dinah a gift, which said it all: He had no intention of courting her. She scolded herself for her flash of disappointment. Dinah vowed to redouble her efforts to gain control of her wayward heart.
Chapter Nine
On Sunday after the church service, Dinah and Thomas joined the other invited guests at the dock, where they all embarked on flatboats for their short voyage across Matanzas Bay to Anastasia Island.
The island, most of which was owned by Mr. Jesse Fish, boasted a vast plantation and verdant forests where cattle and horses roamed at will. In addition, it held the coquina quarries that provided the building blocks for many St. Augustine homes and official buildings, not to mention Fort St. Marks.
Dinah gripped the captain’s arm as they climbed from their boat onto the small pier on the island’s bay side. Above the embankment, canopies fluttered softly in the breeze above tables laden with the food prepared by the ladies of St. Augustine. White-gloved servants and volunteers stood by to serve the guests from the various covered dishes and to shoo away insects. Today, however, there appeared to be few bugs about the place. The day was bright and sunny, a good day for a picnic, even if the breezes off the ocean were a bit brisk. They gusted over the picnickers, carrying the aromas of fish, clams and beef cooked over an open fire. Feeling as carefree as the wind, Dinah clutched her wide-brimmed hat to keep it from blowing off. In today’s heat, she would not need the shawl she had brought in her oilcloth bag.
“Shall we sit with Mr. and Mrs. Hussey?” Thomas’s flat tone made his preference clear.
“Or Elizabeth’s family?” Dinah looked for the Markhams, who had come over to the island on a different boat.
“Or perhaps we can take a short walk before we join anyone else?” A strange, almost vulnerable expression tightened the captain’s face.
“Of course.” Intrigued, she permitted him to lead her away from the crowd gathering at the serving tables.
He cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of speaking to Mrs. Hussey about a matter relating to you. I did not wish to do anything inappropriate—”
Dinah gave him an encouraging smile. This surely could not be a serious issue.
He reached into his indigo coat and pulled out a slender package. “May I offer you this small…gift…which I procured from the merchant—”
She stifled a gasp. He had bought something for her. “Why, thank you.” Taking the parcel in hand, she carefully removed the string and paper and tucked them in her bag. “Oh, what a lovely fan.” She spread it open, glancing briefly at the colorful pattern before focusing on him. “How very thoughtful, Captain.” As confusion tumbled about in her mind, she demonstrated her gratitude by removing her old fan from her wrist and replacing it with the new one.
“You are most welcome.” His face softened, and his posture relaxed. “Now, shall we join the others? I must admit I am famished after Reverend Kennedy’s fine sermon.”
As she placed her hand on his offered arm, all things came into perspective. If he had meant this gift to be more than a simple token of his friendship, he would not be so eager to join the throngs. She tried to laugh at her own foolishness in expecting more. If she did not capture his heart, Dinah would never be faced with an offer she would have to refuse.
Safe. That was how Dinah felt with Thomas, even when he appeared to have fallen asleep on this lazy afternoon.
In fact, these days she felt safer just walking the streets of St. Augustine, where off-duty drunken soldiers sometimes exhibited improper behavior, even around well-bred ladies. The city was not large, and everyone knew everyone else or at least knew who they were. In addition to the British military presence and government officials, the population held a mixture of American Loyalists, Indians, black slaves and Minorcans. At Dr. Turnbull’s invitation, the Minorcans had come from their island homes to colonize New Smyrna. When Turnbull had tried to turn them into veritable slaves, many had escaped to St. Augustine. Yet, in spite of their rough manners and odd clothing, Dinah never felt threatened by them. And she could not fail to notice that people,
especially Governor Tonyn and Colonel Füser, the commander of the garrison, treated her with even more consideration these days. Her family’s relationship to Thomas Moberly had become common knowledge, somehow marking her as someone significant to her fellow citizens. She did not always appreciate the attention.
Many of the other picnickers now strolled up and down the sandy banks along Matanzas Bay or sat chatting under the half-dozen canopies. A group of boisterous young men had smoothed a tract of dirt and sand for a game of skittles, but the ball kept stopping in the loose earth before reaching the pins. After a while, they resorted to lobbing the ball as if shooting it from a cannon, to the amusement of all.
Dinah studied her exquisite new fan. On either side were delicate paintings of Chinese gardens. In one garden stood a young man and in the other a young lady. Each one wore a wistful expression while reaching out toward some unknown, unattainable object—no doubt the person on the other side. The message of the pictures could not be plainer. Thomas—how should she put it?—cared for her. But his social position and her own resolution separated them from any future together, and he regretted it as much as she did. Now that he had so gently dispensed with that concern, they could continue as friends, safe in each other’s companionship. The finality of it threatened to dismay her, but she cast away such useless sentiments.
She glanced over at him. He was leaning back in a wooden chair like her own, arms folded over his broad chest, his long legs stretched out and his bicorne hat pulled over his eyes. His gold-braided blue wool coat, white breeches and shiny black shoes bore traces of sand that in no way diminished his dignified appearance. Like most of the men in St. Augustine, he did not wear a wig, but kept his black hair in a queue. Dinah wondered what it would look like unbound, a silly thought. Thomas was always perfectly dressed, perfectly groomed, perfectly mannered.
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