Sea of Fire

  “You’re a dear friend,” Elizabeth said.

  “You’d do the same for me,” Charlotte answered.

  Elizabeth would, and next moment she wondered, once more, how Charlotte could have such a treacherous brother. If Charlotte ever found out, she’d be hurt tremendously.

  “I can’t stay,” Elizabeth said.

  “Not even for a short time? We can practice the narrow letters. It’s not even midday,” Charlotte said and pouted. “I’ll be bored to tears. Walter said he had business to attend to this eve, so I’ll be utterly alone.”

  “I’m sorry Charlotte, but all I can think of is this eve.”

  Elizabeth stood. She had never removed her cloak. “Wish me well.”

  “God speed,” Charlotte offered. She followed Elizabeth down the stairs to the door.

  Elizabeth opened the door and stepped outside into a barrage of enormous snowflakes. She turned to her friend, “I’ll send word as soon as I can,” she told Charlotte and left.

  In the short time she was at Charlotte’s the sky opened up and covered the ground with a thin layer of snow. If the intensity kept up, several inches would blanket the earth before nightfall and make travel more difficult. No matter. She was prepared for whatever lay ahead.

  She pulled her cloak more securely around her and headed for the bank. Periodically, she’d glance down the road for a carriage or noddy to hire, but she was not as fortunate this time. Consequently, she was not paying attention to her surroundings when a gang of children raced towards her. Before she knew what was happening, they grabbed her reticule and ran. She raced after them as best she could on the slippery pavement, but their youth and skill in thievery gave them the advantage. Between the snow which blurred her visibility and the children’s speed, they were soon out of sight.

  The only items of importance were her quill pens, which she had shoved inside their case into her bag before she left Charlotte’s. She carried little money of her own on her. Ironically, the thieving children would get a sack full of spurious coins. Unbeknownst to them, once they presented them for purchase, they could get picked up for counterfeiting if the shopkeeper or person who received the coins was astute enough to tell the difference.

  Since she hadn’t planned to use Roderick’s coins anyway, there was no real problem. Just delays. It was the loss of the quill pens that distressed her. The children would have no use for them. They’d end up tossed aside, and it infuriated her.

  Now, she’d have no choice but to return home. Angrily, she walked ahead with her head down against the blowing snow. She failed to see the constable who walked towards her until he was almost on top of her. Amazingly enough, he carried her reticule.

  “Sir, that is my bag.” She pointed to the object with relief, thinking only of the return of her precious quill pens.

  The constable stopped and carefully watched her.

  She said, “A gang of children no more than five minutes ago stole it from me. How did you get it?”

  “I was nearly run down by the guttersnipes. The lad who stole the bag fell and dropped it. I managed to grab it, but missed by inches wringing the skinny lad’s neck,” the stout man answered. His cheeks were rosy and his uniform was covered in snow, indicating he had been patrolling the streets for a while.

  “No offense, miss, but I need some proof this here belongs to ye. More times than not, it is the parents of these street urchins who send them out begging. You could be playing the part of a lady.” He held the reticule firmly against his chest with both arms as if for added protection. ‘ ‘Tis a heavy bugger,” he said.

  “I tell no lie,” she said in surprise. How could the man doubt her? “If you look inside, you will find a box with quill pens, several lace handkerchiefs with the initial E in the corner, and ...”

  It was at that point, she remembered the pouches. They would be hard to miss when the constable examined the contents of her bag. Would he question their authenticity? Or, would he be suspicious of such a large amount in her possession? Would he think she’d stolen the coins?

  As she considered the possibilities, the constable said, “Aye, you’re right about the contents. ‘Tis not safe to have so many shillings on yer person though.”

  Did this mean he did not find her suspect? Quickly she spoke up with the first thought that popped into her mind. “You’re right, of course; however, I sold part of my estates and was delivering the funds to the bank. I was on my way when I got robbed.”

  “Where’s the mister? Ye shouldn’t be handling such business alone.” He handed her the reticule.

  Dear Lord, he believed her.

  Inwardly, she rejoiced. Outwardly, she assumed a melancholy composure. “My husband left this world over a year ago. It’s why I sold some of our estates. It’s simply too much for a woman alone.”

  Instantly, the constable’s countenance changed from one of a sense of duty to a more friendly manner. Meanwhile, the snow continued to blow and build up on both their outer wraps.

  He resembled a giant snowman when he bowed before her and said, “To ensure your safety the remainder of the way, I will be most happy to escort you to the bank.”

  “You mustn’t.” She held the bag close to her breasts. “I could not impose.”

  Only a moment ago, her worries seemed over. If he accompanied her, she’d be forced to turn in the spurious coins. There was no doubt in her mind the bank employees were trained to spot counterfeit bills or coins.

  “Nonsense. ‘Tis not far from here.” He tried to guide her forward.

  She was firm. “I think I will go home instead. The snow is mounting. I don’t want to be caught out in it as it deepens.”

  “Aye, but once it stops and the sun comes out, it will melt as quickly. ‘Tis nearly spring and the time of year where we’ll start to get some warmer days. If ye don’t live too far, I can escort ye home from the bank.”

  The man was persistent, but so would she be. “I appreciate all your kindness. If you can hail me the next passing vehicle for hire, I will return home.”

  “After I get you to the bank. I will not feel comfortable until you deposit your coins. Now, come along.” He gently tugged on her arm.

  Her spirits sank. If she argued too much, he might get suspicious. After all, most ladies would thankfully accept an escort.

  The bank appeared before them sooner than she would have preferred. While the constable chatted away about the crime in the city, she thought long and hard of the excuses she would give when they discovered the coins to be illegal. Not one was truly convincing.

  The constable dusted the snow from his uniform and suggested she do the same lest the frozen crystals melt inside and dampen their garments more so.

  She prolonged the act as long as possible until the constable said, “ ‘Tis quite enough, I’m sure.”

  They stepped inside to the warm confines of the bank. The interior was austere and businesslike with its grey walls and dark polished woodwork. To her left, a clerk behind a single banker’s cage assisted customers with easy transactions. For those who needed more time or personal attention, two bankers, each of whom sat behind a large mahogany desk, served that purpose.

  A young gentleman greeted them. “May I help you?”

  “Aye,” she said, suddenly feeling excessively warm, though she’d only been in the bank for a few moments.

  “Come this way.”

  She followed him to one of the desks that was available near the window. When she seated herself across from the man, she had expected the constable to take up the empty seat next to her. She turned around and saw he waited at the door. He waved. She smiled.

  The constable allowed her the courtesy of privacy to take care of her business. Bless his heart. Hope raised its head within her heart.

  “How may I help you?” the banker asked.

  What to do? What to do? “I’ve come to make a deposit,” she said, and began to rummage through her bag. She pulled a handkerchief from within, dabbed at the
moisture from melted snowflakes on her face, set the crumpled cloth on the edge of the man’s desk and continued her search. “Oh, dear.”

  “What is it?” the banker asked.

  “I was certain I put the coins in here. I must have left them on my bureau at home.” She drew her reticule closed. “So sorry to have troubled you.”

  “Not at all. When you find your coins, we will be happy to deposit them to your account.” He stood. “I’ll see you out, Madam ... what is your name?”

  She stood. “It’s Miss and, thank you, there is no need. I can find the door.”

  She scurried from the man behind the desk to where the constable waited.

  “That was fast,” he said.

  “Aye, the bank prides itself on their quick service.” She rushed through the door before the constable could open it for her.

  The cold blast of fresh air alleviated the excessive heat she had experienced in the bank.

  “As promised, I’ll hail ye a ride,” he said from behind her.

  “Let’s start walking while we wait for one.” She would not feel safe until she was home.

  “Nay. Yer chances are better if ye stay here near the bank.”

  The man was absolutely obstinate. No matter what she insisted he argued. Be patient, she told herself. In minutes, she’d be rid of him.

  The constable was right, though, for no sooner had he spoken when a carriage appeared in the distance. He hailed it. The same moment he did so, she saw the banker through the window in the front door come towards them. He carried a handkerchief. It was then she remembered she’d left the cloth on his desk. If she waited for the banker to bring it to her, he might allude to the fact she made no deposit. The constable would know something was not right with her.

  Barely had the carriage halted, and she yanked the door open.

  “At least give me a chance to help ye,” the constable complained.

  Before she could respond to him, she heard, “Miss, miss, your handkerchief.” She glanced towards the banker who approached the vehicle.

  “Carlisle bridge!” She yelled up to the driver and hopped inside. When she reached the bridge, she’d direct the driver to her home.

  The carriage gave an abrupt start even as she banged the door shut on both men. She peered through the small window in the back of the carriage. Through the snow-flakes, she saw the momentarily astonished faces of both men and next the apparent exchange of words. As the carriage drove farther away, their shapes became less distinguishable save for the raised arm of the constable, who violently waved his fist in her direction, indication enough that he believed her to be part of the children’s conspiracy. She faced forward. She had narrowly escaped. Would he recognize her again? Would he try to find her? She sighed, but not as one relieved. She still needed to bring Roderick his guineas and one matter was for certain. She’d not return to the bank today.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  At Carlisle bridge, Elizabeth asked the driver to take her to Christian’s, which was in the opposite direction. He gave her a strange look as if he’d questioned her mental capabilities, but he did as was requested. She hated to depend on Christian for assistance, but in her final analysis, he was all she had. It was late afternoon. She hoped he’d be home.

  The carriage stopped in front of his town house. This time she waited for the driver to assist her. The snow flurries lessened; however, the cold in the air remained. It would take a strong sun to clear the roads and pavement.

  The door opened. The driver helped her down. The fluffy white snow was not yet compacted by foot travel. The frozen flakes clung to the bottom of her skirts the instant her feet touched the ground.

  She dug into her reticule for her own coins and paid the man. “Would you please wait? I’m not sure my party will be at home.”

  “Aye. Give me a wave and I’ll be off.”

  “Thank you.”

  Please be home, she silently prayed as she hit door with the knocker. The door opened, and she threw herself into Christian’s arms.

  His arms automatically encircled her. “What has happened?” He held her a moment. “Is that your hired carriage?”

  “Aye.” She turned and waved to the driver.

  Christian guided her inside and closed the front door. He helped her remove her cloak and set it on a coat tree behind the steps. “Come with me. I’ve a fine peat fire going in the library. I’ve been getting some records in order for the next ship to Florida.” He hustled her to the room and parked her on a chair before the fireplace. He threw a lap rug over her and dragged a chair next to hers. She set her bag on the floor next to her. “I had hoped you would have given Roderick the coins and been home before the snow got too deep.” He reached for her hands and started to rub them. “Are you in trouble, Elizabeth?”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said, and briefly explained Roderick’s request that she exchange the shillings for guineas, next the robbery, the constable and finally the incident at the bank.

  “I can’t go back to the bank. The clerk would recognize me.”

  “That coupled with the shortage of those coins, you’d draw undue attention simply asking for the gold pieces. The bastard. He’s playing dare and using you as a game piece.”

  “If I don’t get Roderick his coins by today, my father will be in jeopardy.” She pulled her hands away to rub her temples.

  “Don’t worry yourself over it.” Christian rose from the chair and walked over to the desk. “The bank clerks have not seen me today. I’ll make a withdrawal.”

  “Then they would be suspicious of you. I don’t want you in trouble either.” She sat on the edge of her chair and watched him open and close the desk drawers in search of something.

  “They may be suspicious of me, but they won’t be able to do anything about it. I’ll get the guineas and deliver them to Roderick.”

  He apparently found what he was hunting for in the desk and held up a half-inch-thick green and black tobacco tin. He flipped open an engraved wooden box on the desk, dumped the contents of the tin inside, and walked over to her.

  “How do you intend to do that?” She eyed the tin curiously. “Roderick would recognize you and know I told someone else.”

  “You can send Roderick a note about the weather turning foul and how you were anxious to get home. However, the coins would come by courier. We’ll conceal the coins in this, in case our messenger is not honest.” He flashed her the tin.

  “The coins will rattle. Anyone could guess the contents.”

  “Elizabeth, stop worrying and let me handle this.” He walked over to her and knelt at her side. “Do you still intend to join me this eve?”

  “Do you doubt? I’ve not changed my mind,” she said.

  “I wish you would, but since I said you can come, I’ll not press the issue again. Do you want to stay here until it is time? Or, would you prefer to go home?”

  “I want to be here with you,” she said shyly. She was afraid to look at his face to see his reaction. “I’ll need to change my attire, though, before we go to the ruins.”

  He rose from where he knelt at her side. “We’ll stop at your home before we leave. While I’m gone, rest on the sofa or in my bedchamber, if you like. I’ll get my overcoat and be gone.” He headed for the entryway.

  She tossed the rug lap from her and followed. “Christian,” she said and watched him bundle up.

  “Aye.”

  “Have a care,” she told him.

  His gaze settled on hers. “I intend to.”

  “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard on the mouth. He enfolded her in his arms. His grip on her tightened before he broke the embrace.

  “Any more of this, and I’ll not want to leave,” he said and smiled. “Go rest. I won’t be long.” He kissed her a light peck on the cheek and left.

  She returned to his library and watched him walk down the street. The snow had quit, and it was warmer as the sun tried to poke
from beneath the clouds. Thanks to Christian, what had become a disastrous afternoon changed to one of hope. She walked over to the sofa, gathered a lap rug around her and curled into a ball. She fell asleep with a love in her heart for one certain man.

  * * * *

  “Go away. Let me sleep,” Elizabeth told the hands that gently shook her.

  “If you’re coming with me, you better rise.”

  Where was Christian going? She asked herself even as the fuzziness of sleep wore off and she remembered their plans to go to the ruins. Instantly, she sat upright. Christian sat in a chair he had moved closer to the sofa.

  He smiled at her and said, “You slept so soundly, for a moment, I feared you had left this world.”

  “Would you be sad?” She pretended indifference by smoothing her skirts and repinning her hair.

  “More than you know,” he said seriously.

  She’d expected a smart retort of some sort. His sober reply excited her, yet made her uncomfortable.

  She didn’t know what to say. She avoided eye contact with him. She glanced towards the drapery and saw it had turned dark. The only light in the room was from the dying embers of the peat fire and a small lamp that glowed on his desk. He must have resumed his shipping-line paperwork while she slept.

  “What time is it? Did all go well at the bank?” she said, finally taking a chance to look at him.

  His expression was simply one of watchfulness. He answered, “ ‘Tis half past eight and your guinea problem is solved.”

  She sighed. “Without you, Christian, I ...”

  “I know. You don’t have to say it.” He sprang to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  He reentered the room with a basket. “I’ve already eaten. I brought you some supper. It’s not fancy, mind you, but I know the cook at the Boar’s Head. I persuaded her to prepare it for me.”

  She remained seated and took the basket from him. She opened the linen cloth. “It’s delicious looking,” she said and reached for a cold slice of veal. She took a bite and continued to inventory the contents. “There’s cheese, cucumber slices, brown bread and almond cake.” She squealed the last words.