Free Love's Rescue by Christine Johnson Page B

have known that we would arrive on the Dinah Hale .”
    “Nonsense. If Captain Littlejohn knew to bring three ships to our aid, your father will know of our dire circumstances. He is, after all, greatly involved in the trade.”
    Father would doubtless represent his brother-in-law in admiralty court, but he could not have known of the wreck.
    “Captain Littlejohn must have been patrolling the reef,” Elizabeth pointed out. “Word could not have gotten all the way to Key West so quickly.”
    “Trust me. Your father will greet us. If nothing else, Charles Benjamin possesses prescience.”
    Elizabeth must have misunderstood. Aunt Virginia took great delight in pointing out Father’s flaws. In her mind, Mother had married beneath herself in settling for an attorney when she could have married a plantation owner or statesman. A compliment, even a backhanded one, from Aunt Virginia was rare.
    “Despite his grief,” her aunt continued, “he will welcome us. I expect he will be overjoyed to have a woman manage the household again.”
    Aunt patted her hand, and the sight of their black sleeves yanked Elizabeth away from the fantasy of childhood. Mother was gone. Elizabeth would step into a home much different from the one she had left, and her mother would not be there to guide her.
    “I’m not sure I can.”
    “Courage, dear,” Aunt Virginia said. “I will instruct you and get the servants”—she glanced at Anabelle—“under control.”
    Thoughts of Rourke were whisked away on the same wind that carried the ship into the harbor. Instead of joy, this homecoming would bring sorrow. She could no longer avoid the memories of the past. In short order, she must face a father who did not know she was coming and take on the burden of caring for an invalid brother. She would have few precious minutes between disembarking and hiring a porter to determine a course of action.
    What would she tell Father when she showed up with her great-aunt and luggage in tow? She hoped he would be pleased, but the displeasure over her continued refusal of suitors portended a difficult meeting.
    She pressed a hand to her abdomen in a vain attempt to quell the nerves. Mother could no longer mediate their disputes. Now Elizabeth fell solely under her father’s direction. All fanciful dreams must be forgotten. She squared her shoulders, prepared to face whatever storm arose.
    As the ship came about to ease alongside one of the wharves, a solitary figure emerged from the crowd of sailors, stevedores, chandlers, and curious onlookers. His dark suit and top hat befit a man of serious pursuits. Though he was somewhat thinner than she remembered, Elizabeth would recognize that figure anywhere.
    Father.

    Slaves, munitions, or stolen gold. Rourke’s mind hopped from one potential cargo to another and dismissed them all. No owner would load volatile or illicit goods into a ship carrying his female relations. No, there must be some other explanation.
    One look into the holds would tell him what Captain Cross was hiding. Unfortunately, Rourke couldn’t do a thing with his boat tied off to the Victory ten yards distant.
    He paced back and forth, waiting for some sign of activity on the wreck. The last of Cross’s men had disappeared almost an hour ago. Littlejohn’s remaining two ships waited at a distance, but they’d soon tire of this charade. Rourke had seen no attempt to patch the hull and no water flowing from the pumps, futile though it would be. Whatever the crew was doing, it did not appear to involve raising the hulk.
    “I can’t stand this,” he complained to John, who stood midway between the fore and aft extent of his pacing. “Tom had better keep Elizabeth—Miss Benjamin—safe.”
    John lifted an eyebrow. “Anabelle strong.”
    True. Years ago, Rourke had seen her shinny up a rope to rendezvous with John. “She’s been living in the city for four years.”
    “Make no difference. She fast as gazelle, strong as