6
I can’t believe ye didn’t say one word about her.” Aileen sat on the chaise with her arms crossed, holding sentry over the front door of their quarters. “Did ye think I’d never find out?”
David hesitated on the top step, battling the desire to return to the work site rather than face this inquisition. Aileen, however, was his wife and deserved more of an explanation than he’d given her this morning.
“Your fiancée,” Aileen spat. “When did ye plan to tell me?”
“She lives fourteen hundred miles away on Nantucket Island.”
“Looks to me like she’s livin’ here.”
David swallowed hard and began again. “I broke off the engagement. She must not have received the letter.”
“Maybe she did. Maybe she thinks she’ll take ye away from me.”
“Prosperity isn’t like that.”
Aileen’s expression hardened even more. “Why don’t ye never say me name like that?”
“Like what?” But he knew. His feelings for Prosperity still raged.
“All soft and gentle-like.”
“I’m sorry, Aileen. She caught me by surprise.” He tried, really tried, to say her name with affection.
Aileen looked away. “Second-class. That’s what ye think of me. Ye wouldn’t have tied the knot with me if ye’d had a choice, would ye?”
Guilt rolled over him in waves. He dropped to his knees before her. “We’re a family. We’re making a life together.”
He reached for her hands, but she tucked them under her elbows.
She stared into his eyes. “Do ye love me?”
He tried to hold her gaze but couldn’t. “I promise to cherish and provide for you the rest of your life.”
She snorted. “Just what I thought.”
“We barely know each other.”
“Whose fault is that? Did ye ask me anything about me family?”
“I’m asking now.”
She pressed her lips into the petulant frown he’d come to know so well. “Ain’t it a bit late?”
“No. No.” Since he couldn’t hold her hands, he clasped her wrists. “I care about you, Aileen. I care very much, but love will take time.”
“Did it take time with her?”
David hesitated, trying to calculate her response. “We knew each other for many years, and yes, it took time for love to grow.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, signaling he might have finally broken through her anger. “But it did.”
“And it can for us.” At least he hoped so.
She uncoiled into her usual sultry pose. “I can make ye love me. Let me show ye.”
He battled to hide his disgust. “Perhaps later.”
Her eyes shuttered again. “Ye’re thinking of her, ain’t ye? Is she coming back?”
“No. No.” He rose to his feet and stomped away the tingling numbness. “I doubt she would ever return here.”
Never see Prosperity again. The idea hurt more than it should.
“Then she’s a fool.”
“A fool?” David would never understand Aileen. One minute afraid of Prosperity’s return and the next calling her a fool for staying away.
Aileen’s lips curved into a smirk. “If she loved ye, she’d fight to get ye.”
He almost countered that Prosperity had moral principles. Almost. But that would have guaranteed continued enmity. To move forward as a family, there must be no secrets between them. That meant explaining his plan and getting Aileen’s approval.
He removed his hat. “I would like to help her, though.”
Aileen stiffened.
David plunged forward. Once he explained, Aileen would see the sense in it. “She is very poor, and with her parents dead she cannot have enough money to return home. I would like to give her the fare for passage back to Nantucket.”
As he’d expected, Aileen brightened at the prospect of losing her rival. Then a shadow crossed her face. “How much would it cost?”
“If you approve, I will inquire at once.”
“Then she would be gone.”
He nodded.
Her shoulders relaxed. “As long as it don’t cost much, I give ye me blessing.”
Blessing. The word sat poorly on the lips of a strumpet, but it also gave him hope. Perhaps the admonitions and prayers were beginning to have an effect.
“Very well. I will find out the amount and take it to her.”
“Nay.” Aileen shook her head vigorously. “Ye can’t do it. Ye’d only bring her more misery. Let me.”
“You?” David stared.
“Aye. I’ll take it to ’er, to yer Prosperity.”
David wavered. Getting the two women in the same room could not be good, but Aileen was right about one thing. Seeing him would only hurt Prosperity more.
“Should you do this . . . in your condition?” He choked back the fact that she had gone to the grogshop just last night.
She waved off his concern. “I be from hardy stock.”
That wasn’t his only concern, but he wasn’t certain how to phrase it without sending Aileen into another bout of temper. He blew out a breath as he weighed the words. “She might not accept money from you.”
Aileen snorted. “Is that what has ye in knots? Don’t ye fret. I’ll send one of me friends in with it.”
David did not ask if that was the same friend who had escorted her home last night. The thought that she would return to a lover immediately after being discovered sent anger coursing through his veins.
“Don’t get yerself outta sorts.” She leaned close and ran a finger along the collar of his shirt. “One o’ the girls will do it. For a price.”
David supposed that was the best he could expect. But Prosperity might wonder at a gift of money from a tavern girl. He must make sure she knew it came from him. “I’ll send it in a note.” He must do at least that.
Aileen frowned.
“She won’t accept it otherwise.” He wasn’t certain she would accept it even with the letter. “I must explain why I’m—we’re—giving it to her.”
Aileen did not look pleased. “I want ta read it first.”
David didn’t realize she could read. Perhaps he had misjudged her in other areas. As his wife, she was entitled to this much. He nodded. “Of course.” He added an extra boon. “You may seal it.”
Triumph curled her lip, and her neck arched a little higher. “Ye trust me?”
David closed his eyes, battling doubts. Marriage was built on trust. Even if he hadn’t entered the state trusting her, he must begin to do so or life would descend into utter misery. This step wasn’t easy. She hadn’t proven at all trustworthy, and he was entrusting to her the future of the woman he loved.
“I thought so,” she snapped.
He gathered his nerve. “I trust you.” It was a miracle the words didn’t stick in his throat.
Dr. Goodenow began to make introductions until Elizabeth told him she and Prosperity were already acquainted. Thankfully she did not ask how the meeting with David had gone. Prosperity could not bear to tell anyone of that disaster. Neither did Elizabeth remark on Prosperity’s bag. She simply motioned for her housekeeper, Florie, to take it to the bedroom.
The tea would have been a painfully awkward affair had there been more than three other guests gathered in the parlor. Prosperity did not know the two older ladies. Mrs. Cunningham, however, rushed across the room with an extravagant greeting.
“Why, if it isn’t little Prosperity. We traveled together from Charleston. Such seas! I could not regain my balance all evening.”
Her chatter leveled off into a litany of complaints, to which Prosperity nodded and murmured her regrets. At last she was introduced to the two other women, one of whom apologized for her husband’s absence, but seconds later she could not remember their names. From the corner chair, she stared out the open window and sipped tea, wishing this would soon end.
David was married. Married. And soon to become a fa
ther. Apparently he had formed this unbreakable bond at the same time he claimed undying love for her.
Hot liquid drenched her lap, and she jerked the cup upright. Mrs. Cunningham glared but thankfully did not comment. The rest of the group was too entertained by whatever Elizabeth was saying to notice. Prosperity picked at the shortbread wafer on her plate, but it was too soggy to hold.
How could David lie to her? How could he betray their love? The David she knew had been honest to a fault. He couldn’t even offer a less-than-truthful compliment to please a lady. What had happened to him? What had sent him down this sinful path? Had this place, filled with bawdy sailors and taverns, done this to him? Or did he truly love the woman? Then why pretend to still love her? Why the charade?
“Miss Jones will soon join the staff, if I’m not mistaken.” Dr. Goodenow’s mention of her name pulled her from the barrage of thoughts.
“At the hospital?” Mrs. Cunningham exclaimed. “Whatever for?” Her imperious gaze turned on Prosperity. “I thought you intended to marry.”
Prosperity could not swallow the humiliation. “Not at present.” She could manage no more, but both Elizabeth and Mrs. Cunningham would be able to guess from the heat staining her cheeks.
“I’m certain Miss Jones will do well,” Elizabeth said. “I can put in a good word, if it would help.”
Gratitude welled inside Prosperity. Dear Elizabeth had stepped to her aid again.
The doctor followed along. “I spoke to Dr. MacNees on Miss Jones’s behalf. Anyone who can wander all over town with that heavy bag is strong enough to handle any work at the hospital.”
The two older ladies chimed in with a similar sentiment, but Mrs. Cunningham frowned.
“My dear Elizabeth, you must consider this carefully. If I understand correctly, Miss Jones is staying with you. All manner of disease festers in a hospital. You must consider your son.”
Prosperity blanched. “I would never want to bring illness to you or your baby. I can find a room else—”
Elizabeth cut off her concerns. “My son’s health is in God’s hands, not in groundless fears.”
Mrs. Cunningham appeared ready to counter, but Dr. Goodenow quieted her by pointing out that the laundresses had no contact with the patients. “In fact, it’s forbidden.”
Prosperity wondered how then she would clean the wards, but she supposed that would be revealed if she received the position.
“Then it’s settled,” Elizabeth stated. “We shall recommend Prosperity for the position.”
“Thank you,” Prosperity whispered past the lump that had formed in her throat. In the midst of unexpected betrayal, she had found friendship. “You are so very kind.”
“As supporters of the hospital, we are self-serving,” the doctor said. “Though the staff is small, the hospital struggles to keep housekeepers and washerwomen. Believe me, Miss Jones, you will be a most welcome addition.”
The older women nodded, but Mrs. Cunningham pressed her lips into a look of disapproval reminiscent of Aunt Florence.
Prosperity clung to the doctor’s statement instead. “Then you are certain I will be offered the job?” A sliver of light pierced through the darkness.
“The director must approve,” Dr. Goodenow said, “and Miss Stern will give her opinion. She does favor colored women.”
The ray of sunlight vanished. “Then nothing is settled.”
The doctor set aside his teacup. “I cannot imagine any impediment, as long as you do not plan to wed.” His gaze pierced her. “Do you have an attachment?”
Prosperity shook her head. The only attachment remaining was a painful one. Her fiancé had spurned her to marry another. She toyed with the handle of her teacup. Key West was not large. David’s days as a soldier centered on the garrison and the fort, but he must walk through town to get between one and the other. He and his wife would go to market, to church, and to entertainments.
Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. Eventually their paths would cross. What if he grew ill?
“Do soldiers ever have need of the hospital?” she blurted out, clearly interrupting one of the older ladies.
“The army has its own hospital,” Dr. Goodenow answered.
That removed one meeting place, but the island was too small to avoid David forever. Her stomach churned.
“Are you well, Miss Jones?” the doctor asked.
She looked up to see everyone staring at her.
“Forgive me.” She touched a cold hand to her burning cheeks. An explanation for her odd behavior was expected. She forced a smile. “I would very much like this position.”
“Of course you would.” Elizabeth accepted the explanation without question. “Dr. Goodenow is right. The hospital would be blessed by your service.”
Blessed was not a word Prosperity would have chosen, but it gave the position greater meaning. Perhaps her labors might bring comfort to the suffering. Perhaps God would ease her grief by giving her a new purpose. Perhaps in time the pain would ease.
“Miss Jones has earned my good word, Doctor,” Elizabeth stated emphatically. “If Miss Stern has any questions about her character, she may speak with me.”
Prosperity bowed her head. She did not deserve such confidence. If her character had been that impeccable, why had David abandoned her? Why hadn’t she seen his true character? How had she failed so miserably? That fact would be ever before her, for she could not hope to avoid David and his wife forever. The knife that had stabbed her dreams would strike again and again. She had no choice but to accept it. After all, she could afford neither to leave nor to stay without this position.
She offered a tremulous smile. “Thank you all.”
Elizabeth turned to the doctor. “Please tell Miss Stern that she may call on us here if she wishes an additional interview, since Miss Jones is staying as our guest.”
Prosperity clutched the locket at her throat. Tonight she would remove it. Tomorrow she must begin anew.
Two days later David returned home to find Aileen missing. She must be delivering his gift to Prosperity. Before he’d left for the work site, Aileen had folded the painfully emotionless note around the money and sealed it with wax stamped with the Latham seal. Prosperity would recognize that even before she opened the note.
What would she do then? When she read his concise message, would she weep or give thanks? Would this small gesture relieve any part of her pain? He had agonized over it all night, wishing he could write something—anything—to comfort her. He could not. Aileen must read the note. So he wrote only his hope that she would purchase passage and signed it “Lt. and Mrs. David Latham.”
That had hurt.
The ink shone like drops of black blood before he blotted it. Then he gave the letter and money into his wife’s hands.
Did he trust her to deliver it?
Despite uttering the words the other night, trust did not come easily. Aileen had betrayed even the tiny fragment he’d carried into their marriage. From the first day, anything he offered was snatched away and tossed to the ground like a worm-eaten coconut.
His best hope was that she would want to send Prosperity north on the first ship.
Still, he paced the veranda until his wife returned. The hired hack splashed through the puddles left from the late-day rains as it crossed the parade ground to his quarters.
He descended the steps before the hack pulled to a stop. To all appearances, he was the doting husband eagerly welcoming his wife home from a day in town. He extended a hand to help her from the carriage, ignoring the unfamiliar and undoubtedly new bonnet she sported.
“Good o’ ye to meet me, love,” Aileen purred, her smile sly as a pharaoh’s concubine. “Eager for me, are ye?”
David bit his tongue rather than reveal his concerns before the hired driver. He handed the man enough to cover the fare, and the hack drove off. He then escorted Aileen up the stairs to the veranda, where she tossed the new bonnet onto the table as if she couldn’t wait to take it off
.
“Well?” she questioned. “Ain’t ye goin’ to ask what yer dyin’ to know?”
“I suppose it’s too much to think you would tell me without asking.”
Her laugh held no innocence. “Yer gettin’ to know me, love.” She ran her fingers along his jaw, but the scent of liquor stained her breath.
David shut his eyes and tried to ignore his wife’s faults. He had wed her for better or worse. Much as he wanted her to change, she’d stayed exactly the same. Perhaps one day the better part would arrive. For now, if he wanted an answer, he must ask the question.
He drew in a breath. “Did you deliver the letter?”
Her lips curled into that familiar triumphant grin. “Aye, love. It’s outta me hands now.”
David swallowed his relief. “Good. Thank you.”
“I know how ye can thank me.” Her tone cajoled, but he could only think of Prosperity.
“How did she react?”
Aileen jerked her hand away. “How would I know? Ye told me to send someone else.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, but I hoped she might have reported back to you.”
All softness had vanished from his wife. “It be done, Lieutenant. I followed me orders. That’s all ye need to know.”
But it was not all he wanted to know.
7
Prosperity received the position at the hospital two days after the tea and without an additional interview. Apparently Dr. Goodenow’s recommendation carried a great deal of weight.
The first days at work were a blur of finding her way, locating the supplies she needed, and laboring until every joint and limb ached. She had difficulty keeping her eyes open after supper, even when the baby cried. When she laid her head on the pillow each night, she dropped at once into a dreamless sleep.
That left little time to contemplate David, except on Sundays, when she scanned the congregation at church and looked for him on the walk there and back. Every army uniform caught her eye, but none were David. She ought to be relieved, but the desperate ache refused to dim as May gave way to June.
Laundry and scrubbing floors occupied her days. She’d thought her hands roughened back home, but the sheer quantity here left them raw. She heeded every snippet of instruction, even when it didn’t make sense. There would be time to raise questions after she’d gained Miss Stern’s confidence.
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