After pleasantries were exchanged, with each woman insisting the other use her given name, Catherine broached the painful business. “I would only need a room until I secure passage, which might be as soon as next week if the Baltimore arrives as scheduled.”
“Stay as long as you wish.” Elizabeth called for the maid and instructed her to prepare a room. “The back room would be best. Put Jamie in the nursery.”
“Oh dear. I don’t want to displace anyone.”
Naturally, Elizabeth waved off her concern. “They prefer being in the same room, but I must warn you that the nursery is next to your room and they might well giggle past their bedtime.”
“That is no bother.” Catherine opened her bag. “I will pay the same rate as the inn.”
“Nonsense. You are our guest.”
“But I am disrupting your daily life.”
Elizabeth waved her hand. “Don’t give it another thought. Part of Key West tradition is offering hospitality to stranded travelers. Neither my husband nor I would have it any other way. You will stay with us.”
Catherine was accustomed to giving, not receiving. Even the sum she’d managed to extract from cousin Roger had been granted only because it was legally due her. The pittance she’d managed to give the tenants had come at great cost. If Maman’s family did not take her in, she would have nowhere to go and no means for either room or board.
“Thank you.” Gratitude shouldn’t hurt, but oh, this was so difficult to swallow. “I will help as much as I can, purchase food and necessities.”
“I assure you that isn’t necessary. We own a mercantile, and my husband catches much of what we eat. I hope you like fish.” She smiled. “Our diet is not varied, but the Lord blesses us with plenty.”
Catherine was not accustomed to such open expression of faith. “I thank you. And your husband—is he home? Tom led me to believe he was at sea.”
“He is here tonight, though I expect he will return to the wrecked ship tomorrow or the next day.”
“Does he come and go frequently?”
Elizabeth laughed. “It might seem that way. Sometimes he does, but other times he is gone for weeks. That’s the way it is in wrecking.” She strolled into the neighboring room, where a tea service sat on the sideboard. “Would you care for tea?”
“Why, yes. Thank you, but I should send for my trunks.”
Elizabeth poured two cups of tea and added the milk and sugar Catherine requested. “Let’s leave that for the men. I expect Tom will return with Rourke.”
Catherine started. “Does Mr. Worthington stay here too?” She had never dreamed he might be under the same roof. The idea that they might meet again was surprisingly welcome.
Again Elizabeth laughed. “Tom stays at the boardinghouse, but he often shares meals with us, especially when Rourke is here.”
“He seems most helpful.”
“That he is.”
Catherine had hoped for more. “He took me to each of the shipping agents and made certain they did not overcharge.”
“Tom likes to make himself helpful.” Elizabeth paused and Catherine sensed a caution, but the lady only shook her head. “You mentioned a ship due in next week. Where are you planning to sail?”
“New Orleans. My mother’s family has a plantation outside the city.”
“Louisiana.” Elizabeth’s whispered reply came as she slowly set her teacup back on the saucer.
Her sigh, almost mournful, raised Catherine’s curiosity. “You know someone there?”
Elizabeth took a long sip of tea. “My nurse.” Her eyes misted. “My father sold her to a planter in Louisiana some ten years ago.”
Ten years ago. Everything seemed to have happened at that time.
“I’m sorry.”
Elizabeth smiled wistfully. “Me too, but that is old news. Very old. You are rejoining family. What joy that must be after your season of sorrow.”
Catherine squirmed. She hated to admit that she’d never met them.
Elizabeth ended all chance of avoiding the subject. “When did you last see them?”
“We have not met.” When Elizabeth’s eyebrows lifted, Catherine added, “It is a very long distance between England and Louisiana.”
“Naturally.”
Though Elizabeth appeared willing to let the explanation go at that, Catherine felt compelled to explain further. “My mother eloped with my father while visiting England on her grand tour.”
“How very romantic.”
“It was.” Now her own eyes misted. “Papa adored Maman. Her death changed him.” She sighed. “At least they are together now.”
“That must be a comfort to you. I’m certain your mother’s family looks forward to your arrival.”
Catherine couldn’t admit to the trepidation that had been building the nearer she got to Louisiana. “It will be a memorable meeting.”
“Who will travel with you? Has your family sent someone here?”
Catherine fidgeted with the empty teacup. “I planned to make the voyage on my own.”
When shock did not immediately greet that statement, Catherine looked up at Elizabeth. The woman’s mouth was pursed as if she was deep in thought.
“I could caution you, but I’m certain others have done so already.”
“Indeed,” Catherine admitted.
“An older lady would be ideal, but I know of no one planning to travel in that direction.” Her brow knit in a frown for a moment before easing. “Of course! A gentleman might escort a lady if done with the utmost discretion. Why, Tom escorted me to Key West when the Victory foundered.”
Though Catherine was intrigued by the fact that Elizabeth had once been on a wrecked ship, she was too surprised by her naming of Tom to think of anything else. “Tom Worthington?”
“Yes, the very man.” She sobered. “Except he was much younger then.”
Catherine wasn’t sure how to read her tone. “Is he not to be trusted?”
“Oh, you can trust Tom. When he says he is going to do something, he will do it.” Elizabeth sighed.
“But?”
“He carries a weight on his heart, one that he refuses to reveal, even to Rourke. My husband pulled him out of a foolish duel that would have cost Tom his life.”
“A duel? Surely those are outlawed.”
Elizabeth smiled softly. “Key West is so far from the rest of the country that sometimes the law is ignored. In this case, it all happened so quickly that the town constable would not have had a chance to step in. Fortunately for Tom, Rourke was there. He took Tom aboard his ship and curbed his temper, but I’m afraid that anger still lurks beneath the surface. He would not harm you, but there is something that eats away at him.”
Catherine recalled the peculiar look in Tom’s eyes when she mentioned the dark stranger. The figure that had flashed past her in the crowd had fit her memory closely enough that she had thought it was DeMornay. Might Elizabeth know him?
Catherine swallowed. “Do you know anyone named DeMornay on the island?”
Elizabeth slowly shook her head. “That name doesn’t mean anything to me. Are you expecting to meet him here? Rourke told me your visit to Key West is unexpected.”
“It is, but I saw a man on the wharf who reminded me of someone I met ten years ago in England. It defies reason to think it could be the same man, but I had to ask.”
“Ah, ten years ago. That was a difficult time here. A terrible hurricane destroyed most of the buildings in October of that year. Shortly afterward I was sent to Charleston. What time of year did you meet him?”
Catherine thought back to the record book but could only recall the year. She tried to picture the time in her mind. She had been wearing her light frock, the pale yellow muslin that Maman had bought her in Paris. “Summer, I should think.”
“So, before the storm. I fear that I noticed only Rourke.” A pleasant rose color dotted Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I fell in love with him when I was just sixteen, though I’d known him fo
r years. He saved my life. More than once.”
There was an intriguing story behind that statement, but Elizabeth did not elaborate and Catherine would not pry. Her thoughts remained on the stranger from her past. What had he carried away in that strongbox? Papa had regretted losing what was hers. She’d thought he meant Deerford, but what if it was something else? What if the large influx of money had been brought by the dark stranger?
Elizabeth was peering at her. “You remembered something?”
Catherine set aside her empty teacup. “I’m not certain. It’s all terribly confusing.”
The maid stepped to the doorway and nodded.
Elizabeth rose. “Let me show you to your room. Here perhaps you can find a little peace.”
Catherine would not find that until she set foot on Lafreniere lands.
Fromp gave Tom the bad news. The Baltimore had arrived in port early and had room for one passenger. The price, however, was greater than he had quoted Miss Haynes earlier that week, and the man would not budge.
Just as well, for Tom did not care to send Catherine off alone. Catherine. The fact that he’d begun to think of her with such familiarity quickened his heart. But setting her loose in harm’s way brought it to a halt. He hoped she would find the fare as outrageous as he did. On the chance she did not, he checked with the first mate to see if they needed a deckhand.
They would take him, but only for a full circuit back to New York. Tom couldn’t give up his position here for what could amount to half a year, and he sure didn’t want to leave Catherine alone in New Orleans.
That left him with just one course. He must persuade Catherine not to sail on the Baltimore.
Tom formulated his plan on his walk to the Admiralty Inn. Once there, he learned Catherine had already departed.
“Where did she go?”
“How’m I supposed to know?” the innkeeper snapped. “I don’t keep track of where everyone goes. She paid ’er bill, that’s all I care about. That ’n’ fetching ’er trunks.” He motioned to the stack near the door. Three large trunks as well as one oddly shaped crate.
“All of that?” Tom had assumed the huge pile of trunks on the dock when they’d come ashore had mostly belonged to Mrs. Durning.
“Aye. Enough ta fit out a house. Some women got no sense.”
Tom was about to retort that Catherine had more than the usual sense when he realized the opportunity sitting in front of him. “I will have the trunks delivered if you can tell me where she is staying.”
The innkeeper shrugged, but the grating voice of Mrs. Durning gave him the answer.
“She went to that lady friend of yours, Mrs. O’Malley, hours ago. She wouldn’t say as much, but I’m certain she intended to accept the offer of a room, now that Mr. Durning has joined me here.”
Tom swung around with a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Durning. You have been most helpful.” He dipped into an exaggerated bow, and she warbled about it being nothing.
Since Tom was going to Rourke’s house anyway, this turn of events had worked out perfectly. Elizabeth O’Malley was a romantic. Perhaps he could enlist her help in convincing Catherine to wait until he could escort her to New Orleans.
He rubbed his hands together. “Do you have a porter and wagon available for hire?”
The innkeeper seized this chance for a little more income and set off to have his man hitch up a wagon.
Within the hour, Tom had helped the porter carry each trunk into the O’Malley house and down the hall to the very last room. Catherine directed which one to set to the side for her personal use. The rest, along with the crate, were stacked against the wall.
The porter mopped his forehead. “The lady sure travels with a lot o’ luggage.”
“I am not traveling, sir,” Catherine announced. “I am relocating from England to America.”
“Yes, miss.” The man backed out of the room. “My mistake.”
Tom grinned. “You certainly set him in his place.”
Instead of laughing like he’d expected, Catherine frowned. “That was not my intention. I simply can’t abide that people leap to conclusions.”
Tom bit his tongue. Everyone made hasty assumptions from time to time.
“If you will excuse me,” Catherine said, “I wish to change for dinner.”
Tom was about to remark that he found nothing wrong with her plum-colored gown when he realized that this gave him an opportunity to speak with Elizabeth O’Malley alone. After she called for the housekeeper, Florie, to assist Catherine, Tom followed Elizabeth to the parlor. There Jamie was running and hiding behind the furniture while little Sarah stood in the center of the room with a look of confusion on her face.
“Playing hide-and-seek with your brother?” The elegant woman bent over to whisper something in her daughter’s ear.
The little girl squealed and toddled off to the very chair where Jamie was hiding.
“I left Rourke at the warehouse,” Tom said. “I don’t expect him home early. It’s going to take a while to unload.”
“I imagine so.”
“Might I have a word with you?”
Elizabeth gave him an inquisitive look. “What is it?”
Tom’s insides knotted. How to explain? “It’s about Catherine. Miss Haynes.” He felt the heat creep up his neck.
“She is a lovely woman. And very determined.”
“Exactly.” Tom had to hurry. Catherine might return at any moment. “I fear she will travel alone to New Orleans.”
“You may be right.”
“I spoke to your husband, asking if he would give me time off to escort her there, but he would not.”
“I see.” She paused to direct the children on another round of hiding and seeking. “No doubt he relies on your expertise.”
Tom appreciated Rourke’s confidence. No one had found him indispensable before. Even Ma, who’d depended on his income, didn’t fuss when he had nothing to send her. Now that she was remarrying, she didn’t need him at all.
“He did say it is a valuable salvage,” she added.
Tom knew all this. “Can you persuade him?”
“Me?” Her eyebrows rose.
“He hangs on your every word.”
She laughed then. “Thank you, but I know better. I also know that Rourke would not deny you face-to-face and then change his mind with me.”
That route was cut off. Tom blew out his breath.
“How can I protect her?”
Elizabeth touched his arm. “Go with her on whichever ship she chooses.”
Hadn’t she heard what he’d just said? “Rourke won’t let me.”
“Then you have more persuading to do.”
6
Persuade whom?” Catherine stepped into the parlor. “I don’t suppose you’re speaking of me.”
After a hurried glance at her, Tom’s face flushed beet red. He then studiously examined his toes.
Elizabeth took each fussing child by the hand. “Please excuse me. It’s time for a nap.”
Moments later Catherine was alone with Tom. Outside the wide-open, floor-length windows, a steady flow of pedestrians passed by. Anyone who looked could see them.
“I, uh, stopped by Mr. Fromp’s office,” Tom said. “There is one berth available on the Baltimore.” He then named the fare.
Catherine cringed. “You must have heard incorrectly. That’s double the rate he quoted me. I will go there at once and clarify the matter.” She turned to do just that, her silk skirts rustling.
“Catherine.”
The use of her given name startled her. She could not get accustomed to the familiarity between acquaintances here. On the other hand, Tom Worthington had become more than a mere acquaintance. Still, it was much too soon to greet each other by their given names.
“Miss Haynes.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze drifted over her gown, a frothy mint green that highlighted her eye color. “Mr. Fromp gave me this.” He reached into his inner coat pocket and withdrew a sma
ll sheet of paper, which he handed to her. “The only room is first-class promenade deck.”
It was a printed schedule of fares for the East Coast Steamship Company. Catherine had examined enough schedules of late to make short work of this one. Tom was not exaggerating. The fee was impossibly high for the only available cabin.
“Are there any other ships expected?”
“Not for at least a week.”
Catherine groaned. First the Lady Jane and now the Baltimore had been beyond grasp. “Will I ever find passage?”
“You will.”
Catherine struggled to share his optimism. “It’s so frustrating.”
“Do you need to be there by a particular date?”
“No.” Did she see Tom relax? Still, she couldn’t admit her financial situation. “I don’t want to be beholden to Mrs. O’Malley longer than necessary.”
“You won’t be.” He grinned. “She loves company and often takes in ladies who need a place to stay.”
That made her feel a little better. “I will do my best to help her while I’m here.”
Tom swallowed, looking nervous. “I have to join Rourke—Captain O’Malley—on the salvage operation when he takes the Redemption back to the wreck site.”
Unaccountable disappointment welled. “I see. How long will you be gone?”
“It’s difficult to know. Even Rourke—Captain O’Malley—doesn’t know. There are a lot of wreckers involved. It might go quickly, or the wreck could be in such a precarious spot that it’ll take longer. We don’t want anyone getting killed.”
She shivered at the thought of men trapped belowdecks in a sunken ship. “No, we don’t.”
He looked uncomfortable again. “There is one other matter.” He cleared his throat. “Will you wait for me?”
Her jaw dropped. “Wait? Why would I do that?”
His face blotched red. “Then you do have a traveling companion. Mrs. Durning, perhaps?”
Catherine shook her head. “She will join her husband on the Justinian and sail to Jamaica.”
“Then who will escort you?”
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