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Authors: MaryLu Tyndall
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she bumped into a table, nearly toppling a small carving of a Baltimore clipper. “There I go again.” She settled the wooden figure.
Taking Jacob into her arms, Marianne gave Cassandra a curious look as she sat down once again on the settee. “Surely it isn’t Mr. Heaton’s imminent arrival that has you so … hmm … so agitated?” She gave a coy smile.
Cassandra clasped her hands together to avoid afflicting further damage. “Don’t be absurd, I care not a whit whether Mr. Heaton willbe here or not. I simply want this business concluded.” Heat flushed her face, and she plucked out her fan. Her eyes took in her reticule lying on the table. “My family’s future rests with this investment.”
“Are you sure you wish to align yourself with such a man?” Jacob grabbed one of Marianne’s curls. Wincing, she extracted it from his chubby fingers.
“Now, love.” Noah strode to the service table against the wall and poured himself a sip of Madeira. “Luke is our friend.”
“And he is a good friend. But a business partner?” Marianne slid her loose hair behind her ear and clutched Jacob’s hands as he reached for it again.
Noah sampled his wine then took a seat beside his wife. “I cannot presume to give you advice in this matter, Cassandra, but I will say that no matter what he may appear to be, Luke is a good man.”
Cassandra fanned her face so rapidly, a strand of her hair loosened from its pin. Hadn’t she seen some goodness in Mr. Heaton’s eyes earlier that day? Something that bade her trust him? “Yet you relieved him of his duty on board your ship?”
“Aye, to teach him a lesson.” Noah held his glass of Madeira out of Jacob’s reach. “Truth be told, I miss him. He was the best first mate I ever had. But he couldn’t control his drinking, and I wanted him to realize how damaging the habit had become.”
Cassandra recalled the smell of rum hovering around Mr. Heaton last night and the way he drank on his ship earlier that day. “I fear your plan has not succeeded.” Snapping her fan shut, she slid into a chair beside the settee. “Oh, bother. Perhaps I
am
making a mistake.”
“Even with his drinking,” Noah said, “Luke can handle a ship better than most men I’ve seen.”
Marianne handed Jacob a doll, which he promptly stuffed into his mouth. She lifted her brown eyes, full of concern, to Cassandra. “Have you prayed about this decision?”
“Prayer has never done me much good.”
“I used to feel that way.” Marianne kissed Jacob’s fuzzy head. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But you must believe God loves you and has all your concerns in His hands.”
“Indeed.” Noah smiled at his wife. “He’s more than proven that to us.”
Cassandra was about to say that God seemed to shower some peoplewith blessing while ignoring others, when a knock at the door silenced her.
“Mr. McCulloch,” Mr. Sorens, the Brenin butler, announced. Cassandra released a nervous breath as the city customs agent sauntered into the room, wearing a stylish coat of taffeta, a cravat too large for his tiny neck, and brown trousers.
Noah stood to greet him as the butler continued, “And Mr. Luke Heaton.”
Dressed in the same black breeches and leather boots he’d been wearing earlier, Mr. Heaton strode into the parlor as if he were the owner of a fleet of ships instead of a lone crumbling heap of wood and tar.
Thank goodness the man had donned a shirt, though the picture of his firm chest was forever imprinted on Cassandra’s mind. His eyes locked on hers and remained far too long for her comfort. She shifted her gaze away only to find Marianne and Noah regarding her with suspicion.
Turning, Noah extended his hand. “Good evening, Mr. McCulloch. Thank you for coming.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Mr. McCulloch’s disapproving gaze landed on Cassandra. “I see you have found a captain willing to accept your investment.”
“I have, sir.” Cassandra thrust out her
Taking Jacob into her arms, Marianne gave Cassandra a curious look as she sat down once again on the settee. “Surely it isn’t Mr. Heaton’s imminent arrival that has you so … hmm … so agitated?” She gave a coy smile.
Cassandra clasped her hands together to avoid afflicting further damage. “Don’t be absurd, I care not a whit whether Mr. Heaton willbe here or not. I simply want this business concluded.” Heat flushed her face, and she plucked out her fan. Her eyes took in her reticule lying on the table. “My family’s future rests with this investment.”
“Are you sure you wish to align yourself with such a man?” Jacob grabbed one of Marianne’s curls. Wincing, she extracted it from his chubby fingers.
“Now, love.” Noah strode to the service table against the wall and poured himself a sip of Madeira. “Luke is our friend.”
“And he is a good friend. But a business partner?” Marianne slid her loose hair behind her ear and clutched Jacob’s hands as he reached for it again.
Noah sampled his wine then took a seat beside his wife. “I cannot presume to give you advice in this matter, Cassandra, but I will say that no matter what he may appear to be, Luke is a good man.”
Cassandra fanned her face so rapidly, a strand of her hair loosened from its pin. Hadn’t she seen some goodness in Mr. Heaton’s eyes earlier that day? Something that bade her trust him? “Yet you relieved him of his duty on board your ship?”
“Aye, to teach him a lesson.” Noah held his glass of Madeira out of Jacob’s reach. “Truth be told, I miss him. He was the best first mate I ever had. But he couldn’t control his drinking, and I wanted him to realize how damaging the habit had become.”
Cassandra recalled the smell of rum hovering around Mr. Heaton last night and the way he drank on his ship earlier that day. “I fear your plan has not succeeded.” Snapping her fan shut, she slid into a chair beside the settee. “Oh, bother. Perhaps I
am
making a mistake.”
“Even with his drinking,” Noah said, “Luke can handle a ship better than most men I’ve seen.”
Marianne handed Jacob a doll, which he promptly stuffed into his mouth. She lifted her brown eyes, full of concern, to Cassandra. “Have you prayed about this decision?”
“Prayer has never done me much good.”
“I used to feel that way.” Marianne kissed Jacob’s fuzzy head. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But you must believe God loves you and has all your concerns in His hands.”
“Indeed.” Noah smiled at his wife. “He’s more than proven that to us.”
Cassandra was about to say that God seemed to shower some peoplewith blessing while ignoring others, when a knock at the door silenced her.
“Mr. McCulloch,” Mr. Sorens, the Brenin butler, announced. Cassandra released a nervous breath as the city customs agent sauntered into the room, wearing a stylish coat of taffeta, a cravat too large for his tiny neck, and brown trousers.
Noah stood to greet him as the butler continued, “And Mr. Luke Heaton.”
Dressed in the same black breeches and leather boots he’d been wearing earlier, Mr. Heaton strode into the parlor as if he were the owner of a fleet of ships instead of a lone crumbling heap of wood and tar.
Thank goodness the man had donned a shirt, though the picture of his firm chest was forever imprinted on Cassandra’s mind. His eyes locked on hers and remained far too long for her comfort. She shifted her gaze away only to find Marianne and Noah regarding her with suspicion.
Turning, Noah extended his hand. “Good evening, Mr. McCulloch. Thank you for coming.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Mr. McCulloch’s disapproving gaze landed on Cassandra. “I see you have found a captain willing to accept your investment.”
“I have, sir.” Cassandra thrust out her
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