Surrender the Dawn (41 page)

“Really, Mother!” Shame burned Cassandra’s neck, followed by an apprehension of how Luke would respond to such an affront.

“But, Mama.” Darlene thrust out her chin. “Mr. Heaton saved my life. He is a hero.”

Hannah’s uneasy gaze swept over all of them before she plunged her thumb into her mouth.

“I agree with you completely, madam.” Luke’s statement jolted Cassandra and folded her mother’s brow.

“I am in no way deserving of a woman like your daughter.” His eyes flitted to Cassandra. “But I promise I shall make every endeavor to alter that fact, as well as your opinion of me.”

Disdain burned in her mother’s eyes. “We shall see, Mr. Heaton. However, let me be clear. I do not approve of you calling on Cassandra. But she’s never listened to me or taken my advice, so it would be pointless for me to protest.”

“Come now, Mother.” Cassandra sighed. “Surely you understand why I wish to choose whose courtship I accept.”

“No, I do not understand, Cassandra.” Anger tightened the lines around her mouth. “Not when our family’s future is at stake.” She slowly rose. “I fear I do not feel well. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Heaton.” She faced Cassandra. “Do not forget to purchase candles.”

“Can we go with you?” Darlene’s face lit in expectation.

“Yes, take the girls, dear. I could use some quiet,” her mother said as she left the room.

Cassandra started to chase after her. To apologize. To console her. But what good would it do? Cassandra would never be able to make her understand.

Luke approached and laid a hand on her arm. He gave her a sympathetic look, but then his eyes filled with a yearning that sent an odd swirl through her belly.

“I’d be happy to escort you as far as the chandler.” He eased a lock of her hair behind her ear. Her breath caught.

She stepped back. “We would love that, Mr. Heaton.” Tearing her gaze from his, Cassandra glanced at her sisters, astounded to find them still sitting politely on the sofa. “Wouldn’t we, girls?”

Their calm facade faded beneath happy yelps of agreement.

As soon as Margaret and Mr. Dayle joined them, Cassandra grabbed her reticule and followed Luke and the girls out the door. Squinting at the glare of the sun off the stone walkway, she tugged on her gloves. Ahead of her, Luke scooped Hannah into his arms, and then he reached down to grab Darlene’s hand.

Emotion clogged Cassandra’s throat. Would this man never cease to surprise her? The last thing she would have expected was that he would be so tender, so caring with children. How could Cassandra have so misjudged him from the start?

Hot air blasted over her. Dark clouds bunched on the horizon, churning and broiling as they made their way up to steal the light of the sun.

Misjudged, indeed. Yet as she stepped out from her porch, she couldn’t help the niggling feeling that things were not as they seemed.

  CHAPTER 28  

L
uke allowed the hot August sun to melt the chill of Mrs. Channing’s icy reception. He had expected her disdain. Always expected it from polite society, but that never seemed to dull its sting. Now, as he strolled down the street, Cassandra and her sisters by his side, it seemed as though they were a family. A happy family. And suddenly—if he could only rescue John—life held the possibility of a hope and joy he’d never thought possible.

Until he remembered that he was a traitor.

And if Cassandra ever discovered his nefarious activities, this happy moment would dissipate along with all his dreams. Even if she could excuse his behavior given his brother’s abduction, how could she ever forgive him for allowing her to spend money dripping with the blood of Americans?

Luke shifted his shoulders, hoping to shrug off the morbid fear settling on him as thick as the storm clouds roiling across the horizon. If his next plan to rescue John worked, no one need know of his treachery at all.

He bent his arm toward Cassandra and was pleased when she slipped her hand within the crook of his elbow and smiled, a sweet smile, full of possibilities. It sent a thrill through him. On his right, Darlene gripped tightly to his other hand, while Hannah clung to Cassandra’s on her
other side. Together they strolled down South Street, drawing the critical gazes of the town’s gossips.

“I fear your reputation is at stake, Miss Channing.” Luke gestured toward a cluster of elderly ladies across the way, heads bent together, tongues clacking.

“Your company is worth the risk.” She lifted her pert nose.

Enamored by her words and by the gleam of ardor in her eye, Luke fought the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her right there.

But Mr. Dayle’s and Margaret’s footfalls behind them reminded Luke that Cassandra’s chaperones would never allow him to take such liberties. Besides, there were children present. Adorable creatures so full of life. Just like their sister.

Darlene pranced beside him as if she were actually proud to be seen with him. Amazing. She smiled up at him, and he gave her hand a squeeze.

A breeze, ripe with the sting of rain and salt, wafted over them. Somewhere fiddle music played, floating atop the hum of conversation, the
clip-clop
of horses’ hooves, and a bell chiming in the distance.

Lifting his face to the warm sun, Luke could never remember feeling such joy. Such hope for the future.
God, if You’re there and responsible for this, thank You.
He shocked himself at the prayer, but since he had opened up the conversation, he might as well add,
And please help me rescue John.

He heard Cassandra groan, and he lowered his gaze just as she bumped into a man exiting the butcher’s with a wrapped package of meat in his hand.

“Oh, Mr. McCulloch, pardon me,” she said. “Good day to you, sir.”

The customs agent tipped his hat as his eyes shifted from her to Luke. “Good day, Miss Channing, Mr. Heaton. How fares the privateering business these days?”

Margaret and Mr. Dayle stopped behind them.

A curious look twisted Cassandra’s expression. “Surely you know, sir, since Mr. Heaton has no doubt declared his prizes in your office.”

The agent’s face seemed to fold in on itself. “Miss Channing, I fear you are mistaken, for I’ve never done business with Mr. Heaton.”

Ice coursed through Luke’s veins.

Cassandra’s emerald eyes bore into him. “Pray tell how, Luke, do you declare the cargo you confiscate? And the ships?” She released her hold on his arm.

The air chilled. Luke shifted his stance, feeling the loss of her touch like an anchor in his gut. “At other ports,” he explained.

Dark clouds captured the sun, casting the street in gray shadows.

Cassandra cocked her head. “Yet since you’ve been able to slip past the blockade, why not sell them here?”

“I certainly cannot sail a prize British ship through the blockade.” Luke forced a smile, not meeting her gaze. The anchor clawed his insides.

No doubt bored with the conversation, Hannah released Cassandra’s hand and poked Darlene from behind, giggling.

“Stop it!” Darlene shouted. “Cassie, Hannah hit me.”

Grabbing Hannah, Cassandra handed her off to Margaret.

Mr. McCulloch’s brows scrunched. “How
do you
slip your ship past the blockade, Mr. Heaton? I, for one, am enamored at the skill of those few privateers able to accomplish such a feat.”

“He’s the best captain in the world,” Darlene exclaimed, still clinging to his hand. “That’s how he does it.”

Luke smiled at the girl. Would that her elder sister believed the same. He faced the customs agent. “That’s all it is, sir, I assure you. Skill with a bit of luck mixed in.”

“Hmm.” Mr. McCulloch did not seem satisfied. “Well, I must be going. I need to get this pork home to the cook.” He tipped his hat again and ambled away.

Thunder rumbled across the sky, portending Luke’s doom. He tried to shake it off but the look of suspicion glazing Cassandra’s eyes confirmed his fears.

“I should be going as well,” Luke said, anything to avoid the censure pouring from Cassandra. “I have much to do to ready the ship to sail.”

“Of course.” She smiled, but the light was gone from her eyes.

Darlene tugged on his hand. “May I come and help?”

Luke knelt and Hannah stormed into his embrace. “Not this time.”

Darlene pouted. Luke hugged both girls and stood, risking a glance at Cassandra. “May I call on you when I return to port?”

“You may.”

Seizing the flicker of affection in her eyes, Luke kissed her on the cheek then nodded toward Margaret and Mr. Dayle and marched down the street. He hated lying to Cassandra. The sooner he put an end to this deceit, the better. He would appeal to Captain Raynor’s honor. He would load up his ship with as many goods as he could carry, offer to give them
as a gift to the British captain in return for his brother and Luke’s vow to never again attack British ships.

Any man possessing an ounce of decency would agree to it.

Trouble was, Luke wasn’t sure the British captain possessed an ounce of decency.

Hoping to escape for a few moments’ peace, Cassandra slipped down the stairway and headed toward the back door. Hannah’s and Darlene’s screams shot through the house like deviant trumpets, accompanied by the incessant clanging of her mother’s bell. How could anyone think in the midst of such clamor? And thinking was precisely what Cassandra needed.

The nagging feeling she’d had yesterday as Luke escorted them into town had burst into a suspicion as hot and dense as the muggy air that suffocated the city. Though it was certainly possible for Luke to sail his prizes and goods into other ports, it left him precious little time to spend here in Baltimore. And how did he slip past the blockade unscathed on so many occasions? Mr. McCulloch’s questions had awakened doubts that had been squashed beneath her rising infatuation of the handsome privateer. To make matters worse, Mr. Crane’s prior accusations reappeared above the waters of her denial, reeking more of truth than jealousy. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more impossible it seemed that Luke could sail out of Baltimore, capture a prize, sail into another port, sell the goods, deal with customs, and sail home in the short duration of his recent voyages.

But how else could he be making money? He’d sent her a fair amount in the post before the ball, along with the paperwork. Though not as much as before, the funds would last Cassandra and her family almost a year. Opening the back door, she braced herself against the sizzling heat, grabbed her skirts, and made her way around the corner of the house. Each strike of the hot sun jarred her reason awake and plunged her heart into fear.

By the time she entered the solarium, her spirits were as heavy as the air that surrounded her.

A yelp brought her heart into her throat and her gaze up to see Mrs. Northrop standing with Cassandra’s open chest in hand.

Terror streaked across the housekeeper’s wide eyes. “I thought you were in town, miss.”

Marching toward the woman, Cassandra tore the chest from her grasp then grabbed the key from her hand. “What on earth are you doing with my personal belongings? How dare you?”

Mrs. Northrop’s swallow ran down her long neck. “I’ll be going now, miss.” She started toward the door.