A gust of wind sprayed both of them with a shower of blown raindrops, though the two stood far under the overhang.
“I’m going to find Phillip.” Shae backed toward the steps. “I’ll be borrowing that buggy.”
“I don’t think you”
Shae didn’t wait to hear what Mrs. Kelso didn’t think. By the time the housekeeper finished her statement, she was halfway to the carriage house.
*
One of the older nuns popped her head into Lydia’s small room and peered at them through the most delicate pair of spectacles Justine had ever seen. “We’ll be filling up before we know it. I’ll have to put people into your room, Miss. They’ll need a place where they can rest.”
In spite of her small stature, the nun’s stern voice convinced Justine she was ready to do battle for those people if need be.
Outside, the wind howled past the windows; thunder muttered endlessly. It felt good to be inside a strong brick building. Though she hated the idea of sharing space with strangers, Justine could begrudge no one shelter. She nodded her assent.
Lydia’s eyelids fluttered. As Dr. Tuttle had suggested, the warm milk had put her right to sleep. “Of course,” she murmured.
The nun nodded and left the room.
“I should have gone back home with Mrs. Kelso,” Justine said. “I’ll just be in the way here.”
Lydia rubbed her eyes and pushed herself upright. “I’m glad that you’re here now. After everything that’s happened, I feel so anxious. I wish that Phillip were here too.”
“I wonder where he is now.” Justine wished he would come back and take her home. She wanted to be surrounded by her own things and the people that she trusted.
“He’ll come as soon as possible. I’m sure of it.”
Justine nodded miserably and glanced once more at the door. “How many strangers do you think she’ll bring in here?”
“I shouldn’t think more than a few would fit. But it doesn’t matter. It’s only for a while. How long could this storm last, after all?”
Justine glanced nervously toward the door. Why hadn’t she gone home? Now, with the storm raging, there was no question of leaving. She’d have to stay here, among strangers fleeing the high water.
Total strangers. She wondered how she could bear their sympathy.
*
Phillip rapped hard on the front door of the Rowan house. The hat he’d picked up at home hadn’t done much to protect him from the rain, and the horse he’d ridden had splattered his trousers with wet mud. Beneath his jacket, he still wore the same ruin of a shirt. Yet as he stood dripping on the front porch, he didn’t give a damn about propriety. He only wanted to see Shae, to reassure himself that she hadn’t come to harm.
The lack of an answer and the raised voices he heard from inside did nothing to reassure him. Women’s voices he would swear it. They were shouting. He strained his ears, but against the steady thrumming of the rain, he couldn’t make out any words.
Again he pounded, even harder this time. From somewhere in the house, he thought he heard a door bang. Several moments later, a stout woman finally opened the front door and peered through a narrow opening. He recognized her as Shae’s Aunt Alberta.
“I beg your pardon,” she apologized. She looked embarrassed, as if she realized that Phillip had heard her shouts. “Our maid picked just this moment to create the most atrocious scene. A bit of rain and the ungrateful little Negress demanded to go home to see to her brood. I can’t imagine what she thinks she’s paid for!”
Collecting her wits, she narrowed her eyes at Phillip. “You you’re Mary Shae’s friend, aren’t you?”
“Phillip Payton. We’ve had the honor of meeting, if you’ll remember.” Phillip bowed slightly at the waist. Despite the appalling way she dealt with household help, it wouldn’t hurt to get her on his side.
He could have sworn he recognized suspicion in the woman’s eyes.
“My niece is out visiting,” Alberta insisted.
“If you’ll pardon me, I believe she’s here.”
“Of all the presumptuous” the woman huffed. The narrow opening began to close, until Phillip stuck his foot inside it.
“Get out now!” she shouted. “I’ve told you, she’s not here. And even if she were, you certainly aren’t welcome!”
Though it flew in the face of everything that he’d been taught, Phillip stood his ground. He didn’t enjoy frightening old women, but he would swear that she was hiding something something that might mean Shae was in danger.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he told her, “except inside to check on Shae.”
“Let him in.”
Phillip couldn’t see the owner of the deep, resounding voice, but he knew that it must be King Rowan.
Rowan continued, his every syllable a threat. “I’d like to meet my daughter’s lover.”
*
From her previous experience, Shae had grown accomplished at the task of stealing buggies. She slipped easily past Adam, who was occupied, from the looks of him, by an attempt to pick a stone or shell from the hoof of a white gelding. A pair of sorrel horses stamped beneath the porte-cochere. Already harnessed to a covered carriage, they seemed impatient for the drive, no matter what the weather.
Shae hopped into the carriage, released the brake, and flicked the reins. The sorrels didn’t protest, but leapt into a canter as if they appreciated her haste.
Glancing back, she saw the young coachman staring after her, mouth open, too shocked to even cry for help. Guiltily, she waved and hoped that the housekeeper would explain.
The two horses didn’t slow their pace, though their red-brown coats quickly darkened to deep chocolate with the rain. They splashed gamely through deep puddles, throwing back so much mud and water that Shae might as well be riding in an open cart. But it hardly mattered, wet as she already was. All she cared about was finding Phillip quickly.
Despite the poor condition of the streets, the spirited team made short work of the trip to the Rowan house. As she pulled into the area beside her family’s home, she noticed that even here, seven blocks from the water, every ditch was full, and in low spots, the floodwaters stretched across the street.
A dark shape, clad in a familiar dress of worn blue cotton, darted from the back door. Eva hesitated in the stable’s overhang.
Shae climbed out of the carriage and into shin-deep, standing water. She pulled open the stable door and quickly ducked inside.
Eva stood in the doorway, her eyes darting toward the street.
“Eva, what are you doing out in this”
“I be leavin’, Miss Shae, and if you have any sense, you’ll stay gone. Fool woman tells me I fired if I go check on my boys. Damn waves poundin’ up the street,” she gestured angrily toward where, in the distance, gigantic crests crashed along the gulf shore, “and she thinks I wanna scrub floors.”
“Maybe you should bring your boys back here,” Shae said hesitantly. She wondered as she said it how her aunt would react to that outrageous suggestion. And with what she had to tell her father . . .
“Ain’t no shelter here for me. Maybe you could stay though. You kin, after all. But I’m gonna find some safe spot, don’t you worry. I take care of my boys fine.”
“Eva, take the carriage. I’ll hitch Delilah for you . . .” Shae unlatched the mare’s stall door, but wondered if that was a good idea. Delilah, who had always feared storms, twisted and churned inside her box stall like a demon. She thought of gentler Samson, then remembered her father saying he was lame.
Eva shook her head. “No, ma’am. I’m not takin’ no carriage. I ain’t never even drove no horse. I thanks you, but I’ll make my own way like always.”
Before Shae could respond, the wiry, black woman had already left to run from overhang to overhang in the direction of her alley shanty.
In a moment, all thoughts of Eva vanished as Shae noticed something she hadn’t seen before. A gray horse tied to the wrought
-iron fence in the shelter of a live oak tree. Could it be Phillip’s?
Her heart pounded almost as fast as raindrops fell. If that were Phillip, she must get inside at once. Not only to warn him about Ethan, but to prevent him from confronting King alone. Shae rushed to the back door and slipped through stealthily, for every nerve in her body screamed a need for caution.
Despite her fear, she felt relieved to get inside, to hear the driving rain from within this dubious shelter. But in a moment, other sounds stole even that small comfort. The sounds of voices, low and angry, in the parlor.
Leaving a damp trail in her wake, Shae crept forward.
*
Phillip stepped into the foyer, not even bothering to close the door behind him.
“She won’t see you again,” King growled.
As her brother stepped forward, Alberta retreated behind a parlor chair to watch. Open fascination made her look like a starved woman staring at a plate of frosted dainties.
Phillip decided he could be just as stubborn as Shae’s father. Taking a step nearer, he repeated, “Where is she?”
With the air of someone who made a habit of intimidation, King moved toward him. Though he was no taller than Phillip, he was built sturdily, as if he’d once been an athlete. Phillip wondered grimly if the man had ever boxed. Nonetheless, he almost wished that King would strike first. After everything that had happened, he’d like to thrash someone about now, and it might as well be this savage bully.
“Mary’s whereabouts are none of your concern. I tell you, your romantic escapades are finished.”
“She is my concern,” Phillip corrected. “I’m marrying your daughter.”
“You may have ruined my daughter, but I can assure you, you will never marry her. I know where you’ve been,” King tossed him his wallet. He spat his words, as if they tasted filthy. “And I know who you are. A wretched failure, a travesty of a businessman and heir. Your father would be appalled at the way that you’ve turned out.”
“What in God’s name have you done with her, you murdering bastard?” Phillip’s voice rose above a thunderclap that shook the open door behind him.
The sick glee fled from Alberta’s porcine face. In its place, horror flashed.
King hesitated, his own face unreadable and cold as a cadaver’s.
In the silence, Phillip forged ahead. “I know what you’re capable of doing. I know what happened to your poor wife and I’ll be damned if I leave Shae here!”
Alberta surged forward. “Poor wife? You’re a madman! I’ll send for the police!”
“No,” King commanded, pulling something from his waistcoat pocket. A derringer, leveled straight at Phillip’s chest. “The young man is going to explain.”
“Stop!” Shae rushed forward from the parlor and slipped between her aunt and father to dart in front of Phillip.
Phillip started at the suddenness of her appearance, but her family looked even more surprised. “Shae, move!” he protested. He’d rather face the derringeror the very hounds of hell than risk her life. He had a short-nosed revolver of his own hidden in his jacket. If he could only get her out of here, he might have a chance.
“You aren’t going to hurt him!” Shae shouted at her father, ignoring Phillip’s protest. She trembled with either cold or fear, so that Phillip wished he could take her in his arms. But with an effort, he kept still, afraid that King might fire at any provocation.
The windows and doorway flashed, and a huge clap of thunder followed. The house shuddered with its nearness, and King jerked so suddenly, Phillip was surprised he didn’t fire.
In a moment, Shae’s father recovered his composure. “Mary, you will step aside now.”
Her voice was steel against his iron. “I will not.”
“Go to your room, Mary,” Alberta demanded sharply. “If you hadn’t played the harlot, there’d be no need”
“ Quiet!” Shae interrupted. “I won’t listen to your filthy names, and I’m no longer a child. I refuse to be pushed off in a corner while he kills again.”
“Enough!” King roared, gesturing broadly with the gun. “I will not listen to these accusations.”
“Yes, you will. Right now, while I have your attention,” Shae argued.
Phillip begged, “Shae, don’t do this now!”
Once more, she paid him no heed, too caught up in her emotions to stop now. “I found her jewelry, Father. I know what you did to Mother and to Lucius. I know what you did!”
“I’ve killed no one!” King protested. “No one since the War.”
“You lying beast, you’re not fit to call yourself my father! You’re not fit to call yourself a man!”
Phillip grabbed Shae’s arms, intent on pulling her aside before she provoked her father into shooting. He heard the click of the derringer, then Shae’s desperate cry.
“Don’t hurt him!” She lunged forward, again trying to shield Phillip with her body.
What at first sounded like more thunder turned to a loud clatter a loud clatter of hooves on the wooden porch. A horse, squealing with terror, bolted through the doorway. The door swung wide, striking Phillip, and he glimpsed a blur of golden hide.
“Sweet mother of God!” King swore. “Delilah?!”
As the mare plunged past him, a sharp crack competed with the sounds of Shae’s scream and glass exploding.
“Catch her quickly!” Alberta shrieked, gesturing wildly toward the horse. As she lunged for the mare’s halter, the terrified animal charged up the narrow stairs.
It was all Phillip could do not to gape stupidly after the beast’s retreating form. Instead he forced himself to clamber to his feet. Dragging Shae behind him, he ran from the house to where his mount was waiting.
Then he turned to help Shae up into the saddle.
“Oh, God!” The exclamation tore out of his mouth as he saw her hands pressed against her left side. Blood oozed between her fingers. Rainwater diluted the rivulets into pink streams.
“The carriage,” she suggested, nodding toward it.
Still stunned, Phillip turned his head back toward the house. “He shot you. That bastard, I’ll”
Shae shook her head emphatically. “ No. He wouldn’t shoot me. But something broke the window. A piece of glass must have hit my hand.”
She extended her right palm, showed him what looked to be a puncture wound. Possibly, a shard of glass had burrowed, but with the rain he couldn’t tell.
Thank God it was not her side, as he had feared. He put his arm around her, then half-led, half-dragged her to the carriage.
He took only moments to tie his saddle horse behind the rig, then quickly climbed inside and chucked the reins. The carriage lurched as the team of sorrels struggled into the street, where the water had risen half a foot just since his arrival. In spots, it now reached past the horses’ hocks. This storm showed signs of turning to a full-fledged hurricane.
“Why in God’s name did you have to move in front of me?” he asked, more angrily than he meant to sound. “He might have killed you.”
“I couldn’t let him hurt you.” Despite the warm air, Shae’s body quivered violently, as if she were chilled.
Phillip dug under the seat and found a blanket, then draped it over her. “Do you think I’m the sort of man who’d want to hide behind a woman?”
The carriage shifted, sliding to one side. Not until it settled did Phillip realize it had floated for a moment.
She wrapped herself inside the blanket, then folded a corner around her injured hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t about pride. He would never shoot me, no matter what he’s done.”
“Are you so certain of that?” Phillip asked her.
“My father wouldn’t hurt me,” she repeated stubbornly. The shivering grew even more pronounced.
“Let me see that hand again.”
“I have it wrapped now.”
“Did the bullet go straight through? Is that what broke the window?” It was a
guess, but something in her manner convinced him he was right.
She didn’t answer, but instead stared straight ahead.
Her state of mind concerned him, as well as the risks of bleeding and infection. The more quickly the wound could be cleansed with carbolic acid, the better it would heal. “I’ll drive you to the infirmary. My sister’s there as well, and it will be safer in this storm.”
“Your sister. Mrs. Kelso told me she’d be fine. Is that true?”
Phillip nodded. “It is, but when I found your velocipede and heard what the witness had to say, I was afraid those men had taken you.”
“Lowell’s men,” Shae informed him. “I heard them say it.”
“Ethan’s. Yes . . . I know. We captured one, and he told us.”
“Why? Why would Ethan try to hurt you?”
Phillip shrugged. “What Ethan has can never be enough. He wants Payton Enterprises too. If he could intimidate me into selling cheaply, he’d have a coup to take home to his father. After he became involved with Rachel, I suspect things became even more personal.”
Shae leaned against him tiredly and cradled her wounded hand close to her chest.“What will you do, Phillip? What will either of us do?”
“We’ll help each other, Shae. I promise. Everything will be all right.”
“Everything won’t. Look the water’s gone into those houses. I’ve seen storms before, but this Don’t go to St. Michael’s. Not yet. Turn here. We have to go get Jasper.”
“The road’s flooded too badly. Look those floating boards are gutter coverings. If we go this way, one of the horses could step into a hole and break a leg.”
“Then drive up to the next street and cut over. I need Jasper and my mother’s things. Please, Phillip.”
She sounded so childlike, so lost, he could not deny her. “Very well. A quick stop.”
When Phillip glanced down at the light gray blanket, he noticed that where her hand was wrapped, it was bleeding top and bottom. He must have been right. A bullet had passed through. But Shae wasn’t ready to admit it yet, wasn’t ready to deal with the enormity of her father’s crimes.
The rain grew heavier, creating a dull roar on the waxed carriage top. Through the open front, water splashed inside. Phillip wished he had another set of dry clothing.
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