Read Online Love's Rescue by Christine Johnson - Free Book Online Page A

Windsprite , even for an inferior vessel, for it removed her from temptation, but she longed to stay. She wanted to converse with Rourke, to ask dozens of questions and plead her remorse, but her aunt watched every move. His solicitous care only made it worse. Despite her clinging to the impossible hope that time would change her feelings toward him, Rourke had lived up to every expectation she had woven in her daydreams over the years. If not for Aunt Virginia’s firm grasp, she would have walked away from her vow and her duty.
    Charlie must come first. She owed him the remainder of her days. With Mother’s passing, the mantle fell firmly upon her shoulders.
    By the time Tom Worthington helped her aboard the Dinah Hale , an aching emptiness had set in. Oh, people surrounded her. Anabelle and Aunt Virginia hovered within reach. Mr. Worthington followed a few steps behind. This ship’s crew bustled fore and aft in preparation for departure. Orders rang out, followed by confirmation. Still, she felt so alone. Would this feeling saturate the rest of her life?
    “Well, this is certainly no prize.” Aunt Virginia looked around the new ship’s accommodations. “I certainly hope the cabin is in better condition than this deck. What a derelict. My nephew would never allow such a vessel in his fleet.” Within minutes, she’d managed to denounce every aspect of the vessel.
    Elizabeth rather enjoyed telling her aunt that they would not enjoy the luxuries of a cabin. A vessel this small only afforded private quarters for the master, and on such a short voyage he would not relinquish his cabin to nonpaying passengers. “With the favorable winds, we should reach home before nightfall.”
    “Not my home,” Aunt Virginia said. “If we aren’t to have a cabin, where do we go?”
    “Let’s sit here, in the shade afforded by the sail.” Elizabeth led her to the main hatch cover.
    “You want me to sit on that?” Aunt drew back. “It’s filthy. The splinters will tear holes in my gown.”
    Elizabeth did not point out that Aunt Virginia’s dress would need extensive laundering and repair after its dousing in the sea. “I’ll fetch a shawl to sit upon.”
    Tom Worthington removed his jacket. “Allow me.” With a flourish, he settled it on the hatch cover.
    Aunt Virginia gaped at the patched, sweat-stained garment. “That?”
    “Thank you, Mr. Worthington,” Elizabeth interjected. “It’s very kind of you to offer your jacket, but we can make do.”
    “Indeed,” Aunt said. “Even my niece’s old shawl is better than that rag.”
    “If that’s your trunk, I’m afraid the shawl is wet.” Tom pointed to three trunks piled near the rail.
    Elizabeth spotted a pool of water growing around the base of her trunk. “Nevertheless, we cannot accept your gesture, Mr. Worthington.”
    “Yes, we can.” Aunt dropped onto the jacket.
    He grinned and nodded toward the trunks. “Do you want anything from these before I stow them in the captain’s quarters?”
    Elizabeth shook her head. Though surprised the captain had agreed to house their trunks in his cabin, she appreciated the gesture. “Everything is wet anyway.”
    “I’m afraid you’re correct.”
    His gentlemanly language brought a smile to her lips. The crew of the Dinah Hale was a rough lot. Elizabeth hadn’t heard so many foul words since leaving the Charleston wharf. It was thoughtful of Rourke to send Mr. Worthington with Aunt and her.
    The captain climbed aboard and shouted the order to raise anchor and set sail.
    As the crew rushed to obey, Tom leaned close to Elizabeth. “I’d lock your trunk if I were you.” He lowered his voice. “Some aboard might stoop to stealing.”
    “From the captain’s cabin?” Most masters demanded obedience, and this one looked no different. “Surely no one would dare.”
    “Best to be certain,” Tom said as the Dinah Hale inched away from the wreck site. “Do you have the key?”
    Elizabeth reached into her watch