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Authors: MaryLu Tyndall
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chin.
“Hmm.” He gave Mr. Heaton a cursory glance. “Shall we proceed?”
Jacob looked up from his doll and spotted Mr. Heaton. A huge smile split his mouth as he lifted his chubby hands toward him and strained to be free from his mother’s grip. Approaching the child, Mr. Heaton swept him up in his arms and lifted the boy high in the air.
Cassandra stared, dumbfounded, at the sight of their mutual affection.
“Jacob just adores Mr. Heaton,” Marianne said with a smile.
Mr. McCulloch cleared his throat. “I have another obligation this evening.”
“Absolutely, sir.” Noah directed the man to sit then turned to the butler. “Mr. Sorens, will you please take Jacob up to my mother’s chamber. She promised to read him a bedtime story.”
Mr. Sorens frowned, folding the loose skin beneath his chin, and approached Mr. Heaton, who attempted to untangle the boy’s clinging fingers from the collar of his coat. Finally he placed the whining lad into the butler’s arms, and with a grunt, the man ambled from the room.
Mr. McCulloch withdrew a stack of papers, a quill pen, and a bottleof ink from his satchel and set them neatly on the table before taking his seat.
Noah sat down once again beside his wife. Mr. Heaton, however, after declining the chair offered him, stood beside Cassandra—so close, she caught his rugged scent of wood, oakum—and rum.
Snapping his attention to one of the documents, Mr. McCulloch rambled through a list of questions directed to Mr. Heaton regarding the tonnage, rig, proposed armament, and number of crew on his vessel. After a bond amount was agreed upon, the customs agent scribbled on the document and gazed at him above the spectacles sliding down his nose. “And the name of the ship, sir?”
“Agit—”
“
Destiny
,” Cassandra interrupted.
Luke gazed down at her, brow furrowed.
“Well, which is it?” Mr. McCulloch flipped his pocket watch open, glanced at it, then snapped it shut.
Luke made a gesture of deference to her.
“
Destiny
,” she stated with finality. She didn’t need any further agitation in her life. She needed to create a future, a destiny for her and her family. And to be able to do so on the backs of the British oppressors made it all the sweeter. Opening her reticule, she withdrew the banknote and laid it on the table.
Luke knelt, dipped the pen in ink, and scrawled his signature over the contract then handed the pen to Cassandra.
She poised the pen over the spot awaiting her mark. The quill feathers fluttered beneath her rapid breath. Her heart seized. Jacob’s laughter tumbled down from upstairs. Like the countdown to a duel, the grandfather clock in the foyer tick-tocked the final minutes before the deadly shot.
Or the deadly agreement.
Mr. McCulloch sighed.
Cassandra rose to her feet, pen in hand. “Before I sign this contract and hand over my money to you, Mr. Heaton, I have one more condition.”
Eyeing her, he folded his arms over his chest. “Which is?”
“That during the time of our partnership, you will cease all drinking and gambling.”
CHAPTER 7
L uke felt his forehead crease. Give up drinking and gambling? Was Miss Channing mad? He didn’t know whether to laugh at or berate her foolish request. He chose the former. All eyes shot his way as his chuckle bounced through the parlor—unaccompanied.
Miss Channing’s eyes turned to green ice. Luke cleared his throat as Noah arose from his seat. Marianne’s brows lifted, and Mr. McCulloch bore his first smile of the evening.
Miss Channing’s shoe began a
rat tat tat
on the floor.
“An excellent idea, Miss Channing.” Noah tugged on his waistcoat and gave Luke a victorious smile.
Luke growled inside and rubbed his right earlobe. He was tired of people telling him how to live his life. He’d had his fill of that growing up with missionary parents. Their list of oppressive rules still rankled his soul. “Lud, have you lost your senses, miss?”
“No, sir, I
“Hmm.” He gave Mr. Heaton a cursory glance. “Shall we proceed?”
Jacob looked up from his doll and spotted Mr. Heaton. A huge smile split his mouth as he lifted his chubby hands toward him and strained to be free from his mother’s grip. Approaching the child, Mr. Heaton swept him up in his arms and lifted the boy high in the air.
Cassandra stared, dumbfounded, at the sight of their mutual affection.
“Jacob just adores Mr. Heaton,” Marianne said with a smile.
Mr. McCulloch cleared his throat. “I have another obligation this evening.”
“Absolutely, sir.” Noah directed the man to sit then turned to the butler. “Mr. Sorens, will you please take Jacob up to my mother’s chamber. She promised to read him a bedtime story.”
Mr. Sorens frowned, folding the loose skin beneath his chin, and approached Mr. Heaton, who attempted to untangle the boy’s clinging fingers from the collar of his coat. Finally he placed the whining lad into the butler’s arms, and with a grunt, the man ambled from the room.
Mr. McCulloch withdrew a stack of papers, a quill pen, and a bottleof ink from his satchel and set them neatly on the table before taking his seat.
Noah sat down once again beside his wife. Mr. Heaton, however, after declining the chair offered him, stood beside Cassandra—so close, she caught his rugged scent of wood, oakum—and rum.
Snapping his attention to one of the documents, Mr. McCulloch rambled through a list of questions directed to Mr. Heaton regarding the tonnage, rig, proposed armament, and number of crew on his vessel. After a bond amount was agreed upon, the customs agent scribbled on the document and gazed at him above the spectacles sliding down his nose. “And the name of the ship, sir?”
“Agit—”
“
Destiny
,” Cassandra interrupted.
Luke gazed down at her, brow furrowed.
“Well, which is it?” Mr. McCulloch flipped his pocket watch open, glanced at it, then snapped it shut.
Luke made a gesture of deference to her.
“
Destiny
,” she stated with finality. She didn’t need any further agitation in her life. She needed to create a future, a destiny for her and her family. And to be able to do so on the backs of the British oppressors made it all the sweeter. Opening her reticule, she withdrew the banknote and laid it on the table.
Luke knelt, dipped the pen in ink, and scrawled his signature over the contract then handed the pen to Cassandra.
She poised the pen over the spot awaiting her mark. The quill feathers fluttered beneath her rapid breath. Her heart seized. Jacob’s laughter tumbled down from upstairs. Like the countdown to a duel, the grandfather clock in the foyer tick-tocked the final minutes before the deadly shot.
Or the deadly agreement.
Mr. McCulloch sighed.
Cassandra rose to her feet, pen in hand. “Before I sign this contract and hand over my money to you, Mr. Heaton, I have one more condition.”
Eyeing her, he folded his arms over his chest. “Which is?”
“That during the time of our partnership, you will cease all drinking and gambling.”
CHAPTER 7
L uke felt his forehead crease. Give up drinking and gambling? Was Miss Channing mad? He didn’t know whether to laugh at or berate her foolish request. He chose the former. All eyes shot his way as his chuckle bounced through the parlor—unaccompanied.
Miss Channing’s eyes turned to green ice. Luke cleared his throat as Noah arose from his seat. Marianne’s brows lifted, and Mr. McCulloch bore his first smile of the evening.
Miss Channing’s shoe began a
rat tat tat
on the floor.
“An excellent idea, Miss Channing.” Noah tugged on his waistcoat and gave Luke a victorious smile.
Luke growled inside and rubbed his right earlobe. He was tired of people telling him how to live his life. He’d had his fill of that growing up with missionary parents. Their list of oppressive rules still rankled his soul. “Lud, have you lost your senses, miss?”
“No, sir, I
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