The Lightkeeper's Daughter (30 page)

He advanced on her. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

“Do it, Papa!” Edward splashed water as he practically danced along beside his father.

Gideon barked excitedly as if he approved as well. “Traitor,” Addie told him.

Her feet slid on the moss-covered rocks. She threw out her hands to try to regain her balance, and John caught her arm. She clutched at him, and in the next moment, she was in his arms, and they both tumbled into the stream. Cold water filled her mouth and nose and soaked her clothing. Her water-heavy dress dragged her down, but she managed to sit up. Laughter bubbled from her throat when she saw John. His wet hair hung in his face, and his suit was soaked.

“Hungry?” She picked a flopping minnow off his shoulder and tossed it back into the water.

“That was too small to keep anyway,” he said.

The current caused by the waterfall kept trying to force her back down, and she only managed to resist its pressure by holding on to John. He had his arm around her back and his hand at her waist. She was close enough to see the flecks of white in his eyes—like starbursts. A rather comfortable position, or it would have been if not for the freezing water.

“I suppose we’d better get up,” she said, her head buttressed by his shoulder.

“I’m in no hurry. The damage is done.” He kept his left arm around her, but dumped a frog out of his hat with his right. “You’re right. The water doesn’t seem so cold now.” He put his hat on his knee.

“I’m sorry your suit is ruined,” she said.

“It’s the most fun I’ve had since I was a boy.” His tone was wistful. “No wonder Edward loves you.”

Her pulse kicked up a notch when his face came closer, but he stopped, then scrambled to his feet and held out his hand to lift her from the rushing water.

“Are we still on for the concert tomorrow night?” he asked.

“I can’t wait,” she said.

“You’re going with Carrington today, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I don’t want to, but my father insists.”

“Don’t let him force you into anything you don’t want to do, Addie.”

“What would you do if your family’s future depended on you?” she whispered.

He sighed and rubbed his head. “Your father has brought this on himself. What if this is discipline from God?”

“I’d never thought of that,” she said. “If I intervene to save him, I could be circumventing God’s will.” She would have to think about this.

T
HIRTY-ONE

T
HE SEA SPRAY
hit Addie’s face, and she adjusted her parasol. What she really wanted to do was toss it into the sea foam. Playing this new role of lady wasn’t something she relished yet. The bow of the yacht rode the waves like a champion. The steam-powered vessel had two masts and stretched over two hundred feet along the waves. The lounge chair she reclined upon pointed her toward a stunning view of the cliffs along the coast.

She’d expected others to be on board when she saw the size of the craft, but only crewmen scurried along the deck. She and Lord Carrington were the only passengers, a gaffe she wasn’t sure how to rectify. If she’d known beforehand, she would have invited Katie along to chaperone.

“Comfortable?” Lord Carrington asked.

“Quite. She is magnificent.”

He beamed. “I had her built two years ago. She rivals anything in the Royal Navy.”

Her nose caught a whiff of roast beef. The chef would soon have dinner ready, and she prayed they could eat on deck. She didn’t want to be below deck and at Carrington’s mercy. She shifted on the chair and stared at the passing coast.

“You seem ill at ease, Miss Sullivan. I assure you I’m completely harmless,” he said.

She turned to face him. Distinguished mustache, salt-and-pepper hair at the temples, erect posture. He appeared honorable, but what did she know of men and their motives? If her journey to find her heritage had taught her one thing, it was that she was an innocent surrounded by people of murky motives.

“Why so serious?” he asked, a dimple appearing in his right cheek.

“I learned something interesting about you.”

The amusement in his blue eyes faded. “About me?”

She twirled the parasol but kept her gaze on him. “I heard you wanted to marry my mother.”

“You believe in going for the jugular, I see.”

“Is it true?”

He nodded. “It is. You have the look of her, you know.”

“I’ve only seen pictures. They do a poor job of capturing her essence. Her vitality, her spirit.”

“Her hair was redder than yours, and she was very fair. Your eyes are like hers, green and sparkling with life.”

“You must have loved her very much.”

He broke eye contact. “Enough to let her go when she made her choice.”

“Did you break off all contact with her then?” Addie held her breath while she waited to see if he would lie to her.

“Yes.”

Her fingers tightened around the parasol. She should have expected less than the truth, especially if he had anything to do with her mother’s disappearance. “No contact at all?”

He shrugged. “She sent me a note when I was in the city about a week before she left. She asked that I come to see her. I did so.”

“What did she want?” she asked, careful to keep any judgment out of her voice.

“My help. She wanted to leave.”

She barely bit back a gasp. “You helped her leave?”

He nodded. “I’ve never told any other person. Certainly not your father.”

“He would blame you for her death.”

His gaze veered to the distant shore. “And I feel somewhat responsible. If I’d urged her to stay, would she still be alive?”

“Did she say why she was leaving?”

He hesitated. “She felt her life was in danger.”

Addie’s gasp escaped her throat this time. “Did she say from whom?”

He took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. “Look, Julia, this is all such a long time ago. Why go dredging up these memories now? What difference does it make?”

She snapped her parasol shut and leaned forward to grip his forearm. “Thomas, what if she was murdered?”

“She was lost in a storm.”

“Her body was never found.”

His lips twisted. “That’s hardly unusual on the ocean, is it not?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I was found on the shore, wet but fine. So where was she? How did I get there?”

“The providence of God, I suspect. What possible proof do you have for such an outrageous thought?”

“I found some letters of hers. And she left a note indicating she was fearful.” She bit back the information about the clues. “I think there would have been
some
evidence that she perished on the boat, if she did,” Addie said. She couldn’t explain her growing belief there was more to the story than a tragic shipwreck. There was no evidence to prove her mother had even died on that boat.

She considered who might have wanted to harm her mother. Her father? But no, he’d been possessed as he’d searched for her and had changed afterward. He was too cool and collected to feign that kind of passion. What about Clara? Her sister was a formidable rival, and Clara got what she wanted after Laura died.

Thomas rose and held out his hand “Let’s go enjoy that lunch the chef has prepared for us.”

His candor had calmed her fears about him. She accepted his assistance and followed him to the dining room below. It was only later she realized he never answered her question about whom her mother feared.

John unbuttoned his jacket, then buttoned it up again. The new tuxedo was a bit loose and looked better closed. He combed his hair again, then tried it on the other side. No, it was better in the normal manner. He changed it, then rubbed his face. His shave had gotten all the stray whiskers.

He straightened his tie for the third time, then picked up his hat and exited his room. Edward was playing with toy soldiers on the floor with the dog. “Good night, son,” he said. “Be good for Yvonne.”

“I will, Papa.” Edward kissed him. “You smell good.”

John tugged at his tie when his neck heated. “It’s just hair tonic,” he mumbled, knowing it was more than that. The saleswoman at Oscar’s Mercantile had assured him the cologne was the one the women asked for most often for their husbands.

“See you in the morning.” Leaving his son, he strode down the wide staircase to the entry. Women liked to make a fashionable entry, didn’t they? She wouldn’t be ready yet. But when he reached the front door, he found Addie waiting on the entry settee with her hands folded in her lap.

When she saw him, she rose with a brilliant smile that stole his voice. “I didn’t want to be late. I’m so looking forward to this. I quite adore Scott Joplin’s music. I’ve never been to a nickelodeon.”

He wasn’t quite sure what he mumbled as he offered his arm and escorted her through the door. She would be the most beautiful woman there tonight. The emerald gown brought out the color of her eyes. Auburn curls peeked from under the velvet turban she wore. A swatch of something filmy protruded from the top of the hat. The same style on Clara the other night had looked attractive, but on Addie it was elegant and breathtaking.

The carriage was waiting. He helped her inside, then climbed in behind her. The driver set off as soon as John shut the door behind them. Her perfume made him dizzy.

“Did you make your dress?” he asked.

She smoothed the folds of the skirt. “No, there wasn’t time. Clara loaned it to me. She’s being very solicitous now that their future hinges on me.”

“You look lovely,” he said.

The dimple in her cheek flashed. “You seem to have survived the dip in the stream yesterday.”

“My suit didn’t.” He watched the light dim in her eyes and cursed his poor choice of words. “It was worth it to see Edward’s enjoyment, though.”

The sparkle came back to her face. “You should do it more often.”

“I should,” he agreed. He’d nearly kissed her yesterday. Maybe he should have. He shifted on the seat. “I want no secrets between us, so I want you to know I’ve done some investigating.”

“Of me?”

He nodded. “I made the decision before I knew you as well as I do now. I’m sorry if you find it offensive. I have a son to protect. And I find I want to protect you as well.”

A cardinal flitted from a redwood tree, and she watched its path. “And what did you find out?”

“Everyone in Crescent City spoke of you and your parents most highly.”

She put her hands to her hot cheeks. “I hardly knew the townspeople. What must they think to be asked such questions? What could they possibly have to say?” Straightening in her seat, she turned to stare at him.

“That you’re an angel in skirts. Taking food to the poor, mending clothing for free, ministering to the sick when you weren’t working hard on your parents’ behalf.” He smiled. “They say your father told glowing stories. Exactly my impression of you. I’m relieved. But I’m afraid it brings us no closer to helping you figure out who attacked you or paid for your upkeep.”

Addie slipped her hand into his. “Tonight, let’s think of happier things.”

The happiest thing he could imagine would be to have her at his side for the rest of his life. The errant thought nearly made him gasp. He’d realized his attraction, but it was only now that he understood how deep it went.

The carriage pulled up in front of the nickelodeon. Women in colorful dresses on the arms of men dressed in tuxedos streamed toward the entrance. The driver opened the door, and John stepped down onto the street, then helped Addie out. He straightened when he saw the admiring glances other men threw her way. Her eyes were wide as she took in everything: velvet seats and curtains, gilded ceiling, ornately carved railings. The level of excitement in the audience created a rising hum of conversation.

He stopped to introduce her to the mayor, several society women, and a couple of Henry’s employees before they found their box seat in the balcony. Once the drapes behind them were closed, he settled beside her and planned to watch her reaction to the ragtime music.

The audience thundered its approval of Willie Richards. The handsome man of color bowed, then took his place at the piano. He first thundered out “Maple Leaf Rag,” and John’s foot kept time to the music.

“He’s quite extraordinary,” he whispered to Addie, who was lost in the music.

She gripped the oaken railing in front of her, and he thought she might leap over the balcony. At least that’s the reason he told himself it was all right to take her gloved hand. She only removed it long enough to clap at the end of the number, then slipped her hand back into his in a natural movement that touched him.

Her fingers tightened on his when Richards began to play “The Entertainer.” “It’s my favorite,” she whispered.

John paid more attention to Addie than he did the music. The concert was over much too soon. He had her wait with him in the box until most of the crowd cleared out, then led her down to meet the musician. He stood back, smiling as she gushed her enthusiasm to the pianist. When John finally led her back to the carriage, her hat was askew, and high color lodged in her cheeks.

He helped her inside the carriage, then told the driver to take them for a ride along the seaside before heading home. When he settled beside her on the leather seat, she slipped her hand into his.