“It’s all right, Sarah. I know Brian has been something of a—” She stopped before uttering the word pirate. “That is, I know his past hasn’t been very God pleasing.”
“I should say not.” Sarah tipped her head. “But he did seem sort of different downstairs in the foyer minutes ago.”
“I believe he is different, Sarah. The accident caused him to realize many things. But I’ll let him tell you the details.” Renna’s gaze roamed around once again. “In any event, here’s hoping Brian’s ballroom days are over. Perhaps this could be a . . . a tearoom instead.”
“It’d make a lovely tearoom.” Sarah locked arms with her. “Allow me to finish giving you the grand tour.”
“Of course.” Renna smiled. In that second, she liked Sarah Navis for her esprit and candidness and easy acceptance of Renna. “Please, lead on.”
•••
Brian stood in his richly paneled study with Richard. He shuffled through his mail. “How many parties can people in this city attend over the holiday season?”
“When news got around that you were still alive, sir,” Richard informed him, “the invitations started pouring in.”
“I’m flattered. There are several here I’ll reply to immediately.”
“I imagine you’ll want to take Miss Fields along with you.”
“Of course. I can’t wait to introduce her to Milwaukee’s society.” He slapped the mail down on the desktop. Turning, Brian considered the young man standing in front of him. Blond and blue-eyed, broad-shouldered and faithful, Richard Navis had always been a very, very faithful steward, a fact that would not go unrewarded. “And I suppose I should have some kind of reception.”
“A good idea, sir. Half of the city of Milwaukee will most likely pound your door down from curiosity if you don’t.” Richard laughed. “In fact, Lillian LaMonde has already been to your store, here at your house, and at my folks’ farm.”
“What?” Irritation coursed through him. “I’m sorry, Richard.”
He waved off the apology and chuckled. “Actually, my mother was thrilled. Lillian LaMonde of the Milwaukee Sentinel at our home, searching for tidbits for her society page—Mama has stories to tell her friends for weeks now.”
“Society page, my foot! That woman writes a vicious gossip column.”
“I agree. And you’ve been the star of her column numerous times in the past. Have you warned Miss Fields?”
“No. But I will,” he promised at Richard’s look of warning. “I have no intention of subjecting Renna to the likes of Lillian LaMonde.”
“Good luck, sir.” Sarcasm rimmed his reply as Richard stood by, grinning. “And what about your sight? Does Miss Fields know you can see yet?”
“Not yet.” Brian walked to the windows of his mahogany-paneled study and gazed out over the front terrace.
“Well, don’t.”
“What?” Furrowing his brow, he turned and peered at Richard.
“Authorities have advised me to persuade you to continue under this pretense. They think it will be easier for an assailant to strike if you seem like more of a victim.”
“Hmm . . . interesting.” Brian hadn’t considered that angle. “But I hate lying to Renna. I have wanted to tell her that my sight has returned so many times. However, the authorities’ victim strategy might lead to the killer’s apprehension. Perhaps the more Renna knows, the more it could hurt her.”
“You make a good point.” Richard’s expression turned grave. “You really think someone may be trying to kill you?”
Brian nodded. “I’ve thought it over, and I don’t think I’m being overly anxious or paranoid. I know something was wrong with my schooner on that fateful day. That’s why we were on the water when the storm hit. And then there’s Matt Benchley, who is infuriated with me for buying Great Lakes Shipping. Elise told me he threatened her. I think he might try again to harm me.”
“Benchley?” Richard squinted in thought. “There’s a man named Benchley who is insisting that your attorney, Mr. Norton, look into the sale of Great Lakes Shipping. He claims the sale wasn’t legal because his aunt, Elise Kingsley, wasn’t sane at the time of the sale.”
“Elise was as sane as she’d ever been.” Brian shook his head before massaging his jaw. “Part of me wouldn’t mind selling the company to Benchley and washing my hands of the whole deal. But I can’t do that. Three lives were lost on the lake, one of them being my own mother, and all because of someone’s contemptible actions. I owe it to their memories, Richard, to see that whoever is responsible is apprehended.”
“And you think it was Mr. Benchley?”
“I do.”
“But how will you prove it? The schooner was completely destroyed.”
Brian grinned, feeling a measure of confidence. “The day before the accident, Toby Barton, the best dockhand a sailing man ever had, checked the schooner over and found it to be in excellent condition. Toby can testify to that.”
Richard paled. “Toby Barton is dead, Captain—an accident down at the docks. It happened last week. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t remember that you even knew him.”
“I knew him.” Brian clenched his jaw. His heart ached for Toby, and anger over the senseless tragedy filled his being. Toby Barton had been a young man in his early twenties, not much older than Richard. “I wonder,” Brian muttered, unable to keep the cynicism out of his voice, “just who might have been responsible for that accident.”
“Captain Sinclair, you don’t really think Mr. Benchley—”
“To the contrary, Richard. I know.”
And Brian vowed right then and there to see the man brought to justice.
NINETEEN
The next morning Renna gave her reflection one last glance. She smoothed the waist of her pale green and cream gown. She’d never owned a dress so fine. Despite her birthmark, she actually felt pretty beneath all the frills. It made her wonder how she’d tolerated her black garb and pinned-on white smock for the last decade.
But, perhaps, until she’d met her pirate, she simply hadn’t any interest in dressing up.
Renna re-pinned several locks. She’d neatly plaited her auburn hair then braided it from one side to the other, although several curls still refused to be confined. Having done all she could with her appearance for now, she left her enormous bedroom.
Walking through the long, impressive hallway, she wondered if she could ever be comfortable residing in a house as large as this one. Brian was proud of his home, to be sure, but she thought it felt rather impersonal.
In the dining room Mum and Da were sitting with Brian, who headed the long, linen-covered table. The men stood as Renna entered.
“Well, now, don’t you look pretty!” Da beamed.
Brian wore his dark spectacles, which shielded his unseeing eyes. His lips parted as if to reply but closed again. Finally, he said, “I’m sure Renna looks as beautiful as always.”
“Thank you.” Feeling embarrassed, she glanced at Mum, who sent her a pleased smile.
Minutes later a plump and jovial-looking woman named Isabelle served up a generous fare that rivaled Mum’s meals, except Renna knew her mother enjoyed the break from cooking and dishwashing.
“I think you all should be aware that Richard and Sarah will soon be moving to the farm on which Richard’s parents reside.” Brian took a quick sip of his coffee. “That’s where the children stayed last night, and they love it on the farm. I’m grateful to the Navises—Richard’s parents included. I’m sure you’ll meet them at some point during your stay.”
“And will your children arrive back home soon?” Renna cut off a small piece of a flapjack covered with syrup and ate it. Thick and sweet, the maple flavor awakened her senses.
“Yes, although they’ve all made it perfectly clear they’d rather live with Richard and Sarah than with me.”
Renna swallowed. Her heart went out to Brian. He looked so downcast. “You’ll win them back quick enough.”
“
That’s right, Captain.” Mum wore a determined expression. “Children are amazingly resilient.”
“Thank you. I’ll need all the help I can get, I’m sure. But as much as I hope to win my children’s affections, I want to reinforce the fact that Richard and Sarah will always remain a part of their lives.”
“How good of you.” Da gave an approving nod.
“Well, it’s only right. Richard and Sarah stepped into parental roles after I was presumed drowned. They love my children, and I’m indebted to them.”
Renna wondered if there was room in Brian’s children’s lives for her. She’d seen the portrait of their beautiful mother hanging above the mantel in the reception parlor. Would they compare Renna to her? Renna wouldn’t come out on top. The artist had captured the essence of Louisa Sinclair’s loveliness with his brush. Likewise, Sarah Navis possessed an outward, innocent sort of beauty all her own.
First they lost their mother, and now Sarah would be relieved of the role. Renna cringed at the vacancy in those poor, dear kids’ lives. They’d been through so much already.
And what about Brian? Renna slid a glance his way. His hair was neatly combed, his face shaven. He’d managed extremely well for an unseeing man. What’s more, dressed in his dark suit and crisp white shirt he made an impressive sight.
He smiled, looking amused, and Renna lowered her gaze. But before she had a chance to blush, she remembered that Brian couldn’t have intercepted her admiring glance. He couldn’t see!
“How are you feeling today, Brian?” Renna gently lay down her fork.
“I’m feeling fine, although . . . ”
He fingered the open top button of his shirt. “I seem to have forgotten my cravat.”
“I’ll help you with it later, Brian,” Da said. “Not to worry.”
Renna breathed a sigh of relief. He’d merely laughed at himself for forgetting. Even so, what kind of monster was she that she could wish for Brian’s sight to return and for him to remain blind at the same time?
Perhaps the sort of monster that his children wouldn’t want around. Had she been guilty of wanting people to need her because that’s all she expected out of life?
•••
Hours later, the children arrived in the Rockaway, a multi-passenger carriage. Richard was in the covered driver’s seat, while Sarah and the children sat all bundled up inside.
As Richard drove the carriage around to the side of the house, Renna watched from the windows of the enormous solarium. Her limbs tingled with nervousness as the four kids alighted and ran for the house. What would they think of her? Would they like her?
Renna was only too glad that Brian planned to ask both Richard and Sarah Navis to stay for a few days. To ease the transition, Brian had decided to keep the children out of school for the week, and Renna hoped Sarah would help her get to know the children quicker.
Now if she could only help Renna find her way around this manse!
Turning from the windows, she had to laugh at herself. She’d gotten so mixed up minutes ago just trying to find her mother in the ladies’ parlor. Her own home could fit in just the foyer of Brian’s house.
Leaving the solarium, Renna heard voices wafting in from the kitchen as Brian welcomed his children back home. But she didn’t hear responses. She stopped in the foyer, unsure what to do.
Finally Mr. Navis ambled into the foyer with the kids in tow.
“And here’s Miss Fields.” He shrugged out of his wool coat. Hester appeared from nowhere and hurried to hang it up. “She’s the lady we told you about.”
Murmurs of hello echoed through the vestibule.
“Don’t be shy now,” Richard coaxed them. “Introduce yourselves.”
“I’m Libby.” The taller of the two girls stepped forward. Her straight, ebony hair hung in two braids on either side of her impish face. “I’m six years old, and Miss Sarah is teaching me to read.”
“She’s not Miss Sarah anymore,” one of the boys groused. “She’s Mrs. Navis now . . . and she’s supposed to be our new mom.” He sent Renna a challenging glance.
Renna ignored it. She wasn’t about to try to compete with Sarah, their beloved former governess. “Hello, Libby. I’m pleased to meet you.”
The girl smiled. She resembled her father. Why, she even had his ebony eyes and thick lashes. The only thing Libby possessed that Brian didn’t was a pretty pink rosebud mouth.
“I read too.” The smallest of the Sinclair bunch stared up at her siblings. Her physical traits were opposite her sister’s. Where Libby had black hair and eyes, Rachel was fair-headed with hazel eyes.
The little one whirled toward Renna. “I’m six too.”
“No, you’re not. You just turned four—and you don’t know how to read, either!”
Richard set a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Easy, Gabe.”
“But she’s lying.”
“She’s pretending.” He grinned and looked at Renna. “May I present Gabriel Sinclair, Captain Sinclair’s eldest. He’s almost twelve years old.”
“Nice to meet you, Gabriel.” Renna gave him a smile.
“And this little one . . . ” Richard scooped the smallest girl into his arms. “ . . . is Rachel. She just had a birthday last weekend.”
“A birthday?” Renna brought her hands together, smiling all the while.
The little one nodded.
“We had an early celebration in Chicago,” Richard explained, “but unfortunately you were working at the hospital.”
“Brian didn’t tell me that.” Perhaps he hadn’t wanted her to feel any guiltier than she already had. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
“We could have another one.” Brows raised, hope filling her gaze, Rachel obviously thought she’d made a grand suggestion.
“You’ve had two,” Sarah said on a laugh. “I think that’s all the birthday parties you need until next year.”
“I can’t wait for my birthday. I love parties!” Libby twirled around.
Richard chuckled. “Let’s move on with introductions, shall we? Over here next to Gabe is Michael. He’s ten years old.”
The boy leaned his brunet head in closer to Richard. “She doesn’t look like some of Dad’s other ladies,” he whispered loud enough for Renna to hear.
“A very good sign, I’d say.” Grinning, Richard set Rachel onto her feet.
Sarah walked in and wrapped her hand around her husband’s arm. They exchanged adoring looks while Gabe neared Renna.
“What’s that thing on your face?” Curiosity coupled with cynicism edged his tone.
Renna’s fingers flew to the purplish mark. “It’s a birthmark, which means I was born with it.” She couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to know. At least he was honest and forthright instead of sneaking pitying glances her way and whispering behind her back the way many of her peers did.
“Will it ever go away?”
“Gabe!” Richard shook his head. “It’s rude to be so personal with an adult.”
“It’s all right.” Renna smiled, looking directly at the boy. “No, it doesn’t come off, which, I’m sure, makes me less pretty than all the other ladies who’ve visited your father.”
Gabriel’s expression softened as he took several steps forward. He shrugged off Richard’s hand on his shoulder and came up to Renna, boldly appraising her tarnished cheek.
The small veil of confidence she possessed unraveled quickly.
“Gabe.” Richard’s voice was thick with warning.
“I find your birthmark interesting, Miss Fields.”
Richard’s sigh was audible.
Sarah spoke up then. “Gabe, I must insist—”
“I don’t mean any harm.” With a frown he glanced over his shoulder at Richard then turned back to Renna. “You were fortunate enough to be born with something different about your looks.”
A laugh burst out of her. “Fortunate?”
“Well, yes. Otherwise one lady is just the same as any other, really.”
“I’ve never considered that perspective. Thank you.”
Richard said, “Gabe is our resident artist. He likes to draw and paint. He tends to see things that we simpletons overlook.”
In that moment Renna decided she liked Gabe Sinclair. “You’re a fine young man,” she told him just as Brian entered the foyer. He used a polished and carved wooden cane and continued to wear his dark protective lenses.
“I hope my children aren’t making pests of themselves.”
“Why, no.” Renna felt a bit taken aback by the remark. She took a look at the girls, clinging to Richard and Sarah, then the boys’ scowling countenances. Clearly the girls were afraid of their father, and the boys resented him. “We were just getting acquainted.”
“Good.”
Renna saw Libby tug on Richard’s arm. “Are you and Miss Sarah going to keep living here with us?”
“No, sweetheart.” Sarah’s voice sounded constrained. “But your father invited us to stay for a few days, and we said we would.”
“But why can’t you stay forever?” A heavy frown settled on her brow.
Richard hunkered down. “Libby, things have changed. Your father is alive. Aren’t you happy about that?”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s only right that things go back to the way they were before that big storm hit with your father and Aurora in the middle of it.” Richard cupped the back of the little girl’s head and hugged her to him. “We talked about this before. Remember?”
Libby pouted.
Rachel eyed her father speculatively.
“Gabe said that if we can’t live on the farm with the Navises,” Michael began, “then me and him’ll run away and be stowaways.”
Gabe nudged Michael. “Why’d you have to tell, stupid?”
“Oops.” Chagrin spread crimson across the younger boy’s freckled face.
“Stowaways, eh?” Brian tipped his head.
Renna glanced at him, noting the grim lines around his mouth.
“That’s a serious offense, boys. If you’re caught, you could be beaten—or worse. And if you live, you’ll be sentenced to a life of hard labor.”
Gabriel was stone-faced, but Michael looked downright scared. His dark brown eyes widened with horror.
Unexpected Love Page 17
