Ask a Shadow to Dance (32 page)

“All right, I’ll listen.” They sat on wrought iron chairs near the marble wall enclosing the terrace. A mockingbird sang its final song of the day while fireflies glimmered among the roses.

“I want to go to San Francisco.”

“San Francisco!” He frowned. “What nonsense is this? You know I can’t leave Memphis right now.” He paced across the terrace and back again. “I’m in the middle of business negotiations that cannot be neglected. This could mean—”

She tried to get him to sit down again, but he refused. “Please, Papa, won’t you listen? I didn’t mean
you
should go.”

His eyes widened. “You cannot mean you would go alone! You’d actually
consider such an outrageous thing? Unmarried women do not travel unescorted. You know that as well as I do. Aunt Portia is not able to—” His expression changed. He looked squarely at her. “Is this your way to tell me you--“ He stopped suddenly, waiting for her to respond.

She rushed to quash this notion with no possible misinterpretation. “I meant no such thing. I have no intention of announcing my engagement to anyone in the near future.” She almost added she might never choose to marry at all but decided to avoid angering him further. “I do not wish to be married, Papa. I’ve told you my feelings about marriage time and again.”

“And I’ve told you that you are going to be past the age for marriage if you don’t stop this insistence on seeing the world and make your choice. There are several fine young men here in Memphis who would swim the length of the Mississippi if you showed them any interest at all. If you don’t choose soon—”

“Then what?
Will you drag me off to a convent? Or marry me off to the first man who offers to take your spinster daughter off your hands? Really, Papa, sometimes you are so old-fashioned, I’m surprised you don’t have river moss on that bald head of yours.”

His face flushed bright red and his eyes blazed with anger. She had gone too far.

“I was not going to tell you until tomorrow, but you give me no choice.”

Her heart beat faster. “Tell me what?” She stood, feeling the need to be on more of an equal level with him.

“I have observed the young men who come to this house to call on you.”

He had come to a decision. She could see it in his face. His eyes drilled into her, eliciting fear and anxiety—emotions never in her life associated with her father.

“In order to see to it you are provided for in the manner to which you have become accustomed, I intend to arrange a marriage for you—”

“No! Don’t say any more. You can’t—”

“With the suitor of
my
choice.”

She felt as though the floor had dropped from beneath her. She reached for the marble wall to steady herself. “There’s no reason why you must make the decision for me. You’ve always said I could decide for myself. You can’t—”

“I can and I shall! I will hear no more about it. I have pleaded with you to marry the man of your choice, but you have refused. I will not stand by and watch my only daughter wither on the vine, left to go to seed. I want a grandson before I die, to carry on the work I’ve begun and to take my place in Morgan Enterprises. If I wait for you to make up your mind, I will forfeit any chance I have for immortality. You need a husband and I intend to see to it you have one at the earliest opportunity. I shall inform you when I’ve made my decision.” He clamped his lips together and bolted toward the house. The door bounced several times before settling into its familiar niche in the doorframe.

Tears streamed from her eyes, only to be dried in the night breeze blowing across the terrace. That’s all she was to him, his chance at immortality.

The saffron plague struck him before he had a chance to carry through on his threat. After months of recuperation, he insisted on getting out of the house for a while. He went to the Peabody, got completely inebriated, played cards with James Westmoreland, who had been in Memphis on business, bet his spinster’s hand in marriage—and lost. The next thing she knew, she was on her way to New Orleans on the
Cajun Star
.

Now, here she was on the
Cajun Star
again, waiting for midnight and an unknown fate. Her father was near death, Aunt Portia gravely ill, and David struggling to save them all—along with an obnoxious redheaded boy who might not want to be put off the boat in the middle of the night.

David came through the far doors, slowed,
then gathered her into his arms again. “Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I was just remembering . . . What did the captain say?”

“He assigned you to the compartment directly across the way from his. Do you have any baggage?”

“Andrew didn’t give me time. He said I wouldn’t need it.”

“Bastard. He thought he’d put the three of you on this boat, then go back to Memphis as though nothing had happened. Straight to your house, no doubt.”

“He ruined the lock on the front door when he broke in and dragged me away. There would be no one to stop him from taking possession.”

“You mean your house is unlocked and unoccupied?”

“There’s no need to worry. No one will bother anything. Besides, Andrew took Sedonia when he took Aunt Portia and Papa from the house. With no need to hold her any longer, she’s probably back home by now, worrying herself to death over us.”

“I hope you’re right. In the meantime, you need rest. Why not sleep a while? The captain is sending someone to watch Jacob and Aunt Portia. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Check on Andrew too. I can’t bear to think he might be allowed to roam this boat.”

“Don’t give it another thought. I promise you, he’s going nowhere.”

In her compartment, with a small bed and a tiny water closet, she lay down immediately and marveled at how tired she was. Waves of sleep began to overtake her. David sat on the side of the bed and kissed her gently. She felt a surge of desire, pulled him closer and took her time kissing him. He pulled her into his arms, stroking her back, then her breasts. After a moment, he stopped.

“Not now, my love,” he whispered. “When I come back. Dream about me while you sleep.”

“I’ll close my eyes, and you’ll be there.”

He covered her with a quilt from the bottom of the bed, then stepped to the door. “We’re almost home now.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

David pulled the door closed gently. She’d already fallen asleep. He wished he could let her rest until morning, but time was slipping away.

The Captain was on the second deck talking to a deck hand. David had no idea how to approach him with the idea of leaving the boat, or whether there would be an appropriate vessel for such a task, but he had to try.

“Captain, may I have a word with you?”

He finished his conversation then led David to an office adjoining the ballroom. With sudden recognition, David knew this had to be the ballroom from which Lisette had come the night they met. It gave him the oddest feeling to walk across the room and picture her leaving, walking up the staircase to the third deck, standing at the bow, her black veil slipping from her hair in the wind. He marveled at the memory of their meeting and how it had changed his life.

“Doctor?”
He sat down behind a heavy mahogany desk. He gestured toward a chair opposite. “Are the ladies resting? And Mr. Morgan?”

“Yes, thank you, Captain. I have an unusual request. What I’m going to tell you will no doubt sound odd. I promise you, though, I’m dead serious.”

His eyes narrowed, producing a deep crease between his eyebrows.

“I intend to leave this boat tonight.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Tonight?”

“Yes, before midnight. And I must take Miss Morgan and her aunt with me. And her father, if he survives.” He decided not to mention Eddie. It might sound like kidnapping, a complication he didn’t need.

“May I ask why?”

“An urgent matter involving a patient.
I cannot afford the time it would take to go all the way to New Orleans and back. I have to perform an operation first thing in the morning, in Memphis.”

“Then why did you board this boat?”

“When I learned Andrew Westmoreland had kidnapped Jacob and Portia Morgan, and Lisette, I had to stop him. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to stay on board past departure.”

“I see.” He sat back in his chair, producing squeaks and groans from the shift of weight. “I can let you off first thing in the morning but not before. We have a planned stop at six.”

“You don’t understand, Captain. I have to be in Memphis in the morning.” It was time to assume a frantic physician posture. “We have to leave the boat before midnight. Miss Morgan needs to rest for a couple of hours before she’ll be able to travel, otherwise, I’d want to leave now.”

He shook his head. “I’m responsible for the safety of the people on this vessel, Doctor Stewart. In my opinion, it would be unsafe for you to leave the boat before morning.”

“I’ll assume all responsibility, sign a statement, absolving you of any liability should something happen to us, state that you allowed us to leave against your better judgment—anything—but we have to get off this boat!” So agitated by this time, David was afraid he might blurt the truth if he wasn’t careful, eliminating any chances they might have.

He stood. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I can’t allow it. We’ll be docking at six in the morning to drop off Master Crump. At that time I’ll allow you to leave.”

Further discussion was pointless. His features were as set as his mind. David nodded, then left the office. They’d have to do this without his help.

He stared at his watch. Less than three hours until midnight.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Lisette awoke to the touch of David’s hand on her cheek.

“I hate to wake you,” he said softly, “but it’s getting late.”

“What time is it?”

“We have an hour.”

Panic shimmered through her. “Only an hour?” She tried to sit up but a wave of dizziness made her abandon the effort. “Have you spoken to the Captain?”

“He won’t help us.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I’ve located a small boat that’s used for sounding when the river is low, the way it is now. We’re going to leave in it just before midnight. If we try to go sooner, we could be discovered and brought back on board. We can’t risk it.”

“Isn’t there any way we could warn the Captain?”

“Not without changing history, we can’t. There’s no telling what the result might be if we prevented the
Cajun Star
from disappearing. We can’t risk it, just as we can’t risk letting Eddie Crump disappear with the
Star
. He may not be the Eddie Crump in Memphis history, but then again, ‘Boss’ Crump had red hair, just like Eddie. Could be coincidence, but I’m not willing to risk it.”

“At least we can save one person.” Lisette was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization they might not succeed, that they might have only two more hours to live.

“Love me, David, please.”

Without a word, he locked the door, took off his clothes, while she managed to get out of hers, and slid into bed with her. They lay there a moment, enjoying the sensation of bare skin against bare skin,
then began what could be their last exploration of each other’s bodies. David’s caresses made her tremble with desire. She traced the contours of his arms, shoulders, back, before drawing his lips to hers.

Gradually, their passion increased until they could delay no longer. No matter how tightly she held him, she longed to be closer. When he slipped inside her, the pace of their lovemaking quickened. She clung to him, desperate to keep him this close forever.

Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms for too short a time before he rose, took his clothes and went to the water closet. She felt like half a person, a shell with the soul missing.

After he came out, she went to the water closet, bathed her face in cool water and wept for all that had happened, all they still had to face. When he came up behind her, she turned and pressed against him, felt his arms come around her.

They had less than an hour.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

David left Lisette dressing and made his way forward to the sounding boat, to get it ready to put over the side before fetching Eddie Crump. What could David say to get Eddie to come with them? The last thing he could tell him was the truth. Or was it? A boy of his age and exuberance might warm instantly to the idea that the boilers were rigged to explode. Of course they weren’t rigged to David’s knowledge, but anything was possible. A strange man claiming to know Eddie would be the mayor of Memphis by 1907 might be exactly the push David needed to get Eddie to “play the game.” It was worth a try. If he refused to come willingly, David would just have to drag him along, kicking and screaming—or knock him out. Not his favorite choice.

The captain stood near the sounding boat. He caught David’s eye, frowned.

“Just checking in before retiring, Captain.
You’re sure you won’t let us off the boat before morning?”