toward the foyer as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. She halted at the parlor door and turned to address him. “I should like to come see the ship when she’s ready to sail.”
Luke gave her a mock bow. “I am at your service.”
Miss Channing’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll walk you out.” Marianne broke the tension, moving to her friend’s side and weaving her arm through Cassandra’s.
After the ladies departed, Noah gave Luke that same look of reprimand he’d often given him as captain aboard the
Defender.
Ignoring him, as he always had, Luke sauntered toward the service table and lifted the bottle of Madeira. “May I?”
“No sooner do you promise Miss Channing you’ll avoid alcohol, than you run straight for a drink.”
“I am not at sea.” He lifted his goblet. The sweet wine soured as it slid down his throat.
“Perhaps one day you’ll learn to handle life’s afflictions without numbing your senses.”
Luke raised his brows. “Why would I want to do that?”
“It doesn’t take away the pain.”
“No, but it dulls it enough to bear.”
Noah crossed his arms over his chest. “Do right by her, Luke.”
Luke met his stern gaze. He had every intention of honoring their agreement. But what he wouldn’t tell his friend was that no matter how hard he tried, Luke could not guarantee that he wouldn’t fail her as he had everyone else in his life.
“I probably shouldn’t inform you of this, but”—Noah nodded toward the note in Luke’s pocket—“that’s all the money Miss Channing has left in the world.”
Luke shrank back. “What of her brothers? The Channing merchantmen?”
“Gone—both her brothers and the ships.” Noah sat back down on the settee and stretched his legs out before him. “The brothers to Canada to fight and the ships sold to provide for the family in their absence. You didn’t hear?”
Luke shook his head. “No doubt they’ll return soon.”
“Perhaps.” Noah scratched his jaw. “Perhaps not. Who knows with this mad war?”
Luke poured himself another glass. His gut churned. Taking money from a rich merchant was one thing, but taking all the lady had was quite another. Didn’t she know he was not dependable? Of course she did. It was why she had hesitated, why she had demanded he refrain from drink. Luke slammed the Madeira toward the back of his throat. He hated responsibility, avoided it as much as possible. Then why did it always seem to find him?
“You are now the only one keeping Miss Channing and her family from poverty.” Noah’s sobering declaration rang through the room like a ship’s beat to quarters before a battle.
“You should have warned her.”
“Perhaps. But I have a feeling God has caused this arrangement with Miss Channing. That in some way, the association will lead you both to your destiny.”
With a huff of frustration, Luke faced his friend. “Don’t include me in your mad prophecies. There is no divine destiny for men like me.”
Noah stretched his arm over the back of the settee and smiled. “We shall see.”
Luke tore his gaze from the knowing look in his friend’s eyes. Despite all of Luke’s past mistakes, his shortcomings and blunders, this time he could not fail.
Gripping the shears, Cassandra strolled through the solarium studying each gardenia plant as she went. It had been two weeks since she’d signed over the last of her family’s fortune to the town rogue. She nearly laughed at how silly that statement sounded. She
would
laugh at the absurdity of it all if her stomach weren’t tied in knots and her blood ringing in her ears. A condition that had started that morning when a messenger from Mr. Heaton had summoned her to inspect the new privateer,
Destiny,
that afternoon.
Surely it was a simple case of nerves brought on by the critical nature of her investment and not the fact that she would see Luke Heaton within an hour. For the sooner the ship set sail, the sooner her chances of