My gut twisted. “You mean the stranger I’m promised to?” Did arranged marriages still happen? This was the 1920s, for heaven’s sake. Women were voting, competing in the working world, running for legislature. Surely we could choose our own husbands.
Duffy’s sigh was heavy enough to cave through all the decks. “The will states you must marry Mr. Arthur Thomas. He was Harold’s righthand man. He’ll run the company and take care of you.”
The man had to be at least twice my age. “Mr. Thomas knew of this agreement? While I was still a nursing babe, he agreed to marry me?”
“It’s a clause in the will should something happen to your father.” He cleared his throat and glued his gaze to the crummy floor again. His jaw worked a full three seconds before his words seemed to budge. “The marriage will be a formal one. He’s a bachelor set in his ways and has his own…methods of relationships.”
Jack launched to his feet. I’d seen enough tempests to recognize the power behind them. And Jack’s eyes held thunder, lightning, and all the fury of a hundred stormy nights. “You mean take on mistresses? This man will pledge his life to Hattie while being unfaithful to her?”
My head swirled. I was disgusted at the idea of a stranger’s touch, but what kind of life would that be? A union without love. “I won’t marry him.” My pleading gaze bore into Duffy’s. “My heart belongs to Jack. It always will.”
“This is all for your protection from your uncle. The best way to keep you safe. Accepting your inheritance will ensure the protection from him that I can’t afford to give you. There’s too much to explain right now. But the bottom line is you must marry Thomas. This has always been the plan. Your destiny. You’re a Fairview.”
He’d spoken the name as if it were a gavel’s strike. It wasn’t a plan, it was judgment. I paced the small area. “What about this.” My feet halted in front of Duffy, my fingers lifting the helm pendent around my neck. “When you gave this to me, you said I held the power to navigate the course of my life. Was that a lie too?” Surely he’d remember that fatherly advice he’d given only three years back. Surely he’d fight for me.
Instead of taking up my case, his set jaw told me he wouldn’t rally to my side. “I knew you’d reject this, Hattie. That’s why I didn’t tell you earlier. But I made a promise to your parents to watch over you until the appointed time. Which is now. I was afraid that if you knew, you’d run away.”
He spoke as if it were too late to flee. A notion I intended to challenge.
Chapter 29
“This plan will work.” I’d spent four sleepless nights, seven uneaten meals, and eight chewed fingernails on this strategy. Now to convince Jack. “I’m going to the papers with my story. Better yet, radio!” I snapped my fingers for a greater punch, but my thumb and index finger were slimy from my current task of peeling potatoes.
“It seems risky.” Jack set down the paring knife he’d been slicing carrots with and wiped his hands on a towel. Two weeks ago, he would have been too busy with first mate duties to help me in the galley, but since learning of the threat on my life, things had changed. Jack had not only been the founder of my protection squad, but the appointed president and sole member. The man hardly left my side.
I continued with my practiced delivery of my upcoming adventure. “I’ll publicly denounce my inheritance and make it known I want nothing to do with Fairview Steel.” Though the famous KDKA station was based in Pittsburgh, their broadcasts reached across the nation. If Duffy wouldn’t come to my defense, perhaps I could persuade a sliver of the northern hemisphere.
“Let’s think on it more, Hattie. I’m not convinced this is the best route to take.”
“I’ll be sure to not-so-subtly hint to the world that if I wind up as fish food in the Ohio River, then it was by the hand of my rotten uncle.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, his thick lashes squeezing shut. “Don’t talk like that. He won’t touch you. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” His determination was evident in his voice. But his red-rimmed eyes, and the shadows that hung beneath, told the story of his exhaustion. Duffy had withdrawn, practically abandoning all his captainly duties, leaving Jack to run the entire boat while keeping a diligent eye on me.
Early this morning I’d caught Jack sleeping on a deck chair outside my cabin door. He guarded me as if my life depended on him completely. There was no way he would agree to my idea. It required me to go alone. “I have to try. I need to let them all know I’m not interested in the Fairview kind of world.”
Jack’s steady gaze faltered. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“What?” I emptied the excess potato skins down the Dollar Hole, tapping the aluminum plate hard against the tube, sending the peels down to the river. “You can’t believe I’d enjoy the pampered life.”
He scratched the back of his ear, knocking his mate’s cap askew. “Some women do.”
Oh. His former fiancée. The one who’d discarded him down the relationship chute, like I’d just dumped the peels, regarding him like garbage because he’d lost his fortune. “Jack, listen to me, and listen good. You told me in your last note the choice was mine and mine alone. And I choose us.” How I’d recited his words over and over.
The uncertainty in his eyes looked out of place among the definite angles and sure plains of his face. “I can’t give you all that you’re giving up.”
“No.” I rounded the small island and caught his fingers in mine. “You can give me much more.”
He opened his mouth to object, but I placed my other hand on his heart, stilling his protest.
“You’re worth more to me than a million family fortunes.”
“You say that now, but—”
“Nothing can convince me to accept those terms. I won’t be forced to marry that man, and I refuse the heiress role.”
The lines at the edges of his eyes relaxed. “I’ll never stop you from pursuing your heart.”
“Well, that’s good.” I turned over his hand and lifted it. “Because it’s resting quite snugly right here.” I kissed his calloused palm.
Gaze fervent on mine, he leaned closer, curving his raised hand to rest against my face. His thumb stroked my cheekbone. His mouth hovered near mine, but not close enough to satisfy the excruciating pang of want. His hands slid into my hair as his lips met mine.
We could be happened upon any second, but at the moment nothing mattered except Jack and his touch.
He was the first to pull away, and I was pleased his breathing was just as ragged as mine.
Jack cut a glance to both galley entrances then settled on me. His hand found mine and he drew me close. “You know there’s nothing I want more than to be with you always.” He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead.
I eased back in his arms to look fully into his handsome face. “Then I must follow through with my plan.”
“Tell me when, and we’ll make our escape.”
This really was unfair. His broad stance was so noble, his tone resolutely protective. Jack Asbury would battle all monsters for me, but this was a fight I needed to wage alone.
“Hattie?”
“You need to stay and run the Idlewild.” I stepped back, only for my heel to hit the wall of cupboards.
“No.” His shoulders tensed. “You aren’t leaving without me.”
“Duffy’s been neglectful.” I never thought I’d utter those words. It almost felt like I was betraying the riverman code by speaking against such a faithful captain. But there was more to it. I feared Duffy was slipping away, his health failing. What if something tragic happened to him while I was gone? At least Jack would be aboard and know what to do. “There’s an excursion tonight and two scheduled for tomor—”
“Blast the excursions. Blast this boat.” He moved toward me, palming the wall, bracketing me within his arms. “Your life’s been threatened.
You’re my first priority. Not the Idlewild.”
His nearness held power to sway me.
“Duffy needs you.” My argument was feeble.
His chin lowered, his lips murmuring against my temple. “I need to be with you.”
He was too close. Too enticing. Too Jack.
My will was like a brittle pinecone in a strong current. I had no choice but to duck away and place distance between us. Otherwise all my planning would be swept away in the force of his beautiful declarations.
“Hattie?” His voice broke on my name.
“There’s no direct streetcar route from Beaver Valley to Pittsburgh. We must get there by bus.” I sighed. “It leaves tomorrow morning at eight.”
He pulled me to him and gave me a thoroughly appreciative kiss before bounding out the door to see to his next duty.
I pressed my fingers to my racing heart. I hadn’t lied. There was a bus leaving tomorrow. But there was also one leaving tonight.
I’d played the calliope thirty minutes before departure, summoning the folk of Beaver, Pennsylvania, to a sunset cruise. I’d stood beside Jack and counted the boarding passengers. The efficient first mate then headed up to the wing bridge to command the deckhands, leaving me to the watchful eye of the purser. But the older man proved too easy to distract. When an elderly couple argued about the price of the trip, I took that as a divine cue and grabbed the bag and Duffy’s old cloak I’d hidden behind a stack of preservers. With rushed steps, I sneaked off the boarding stage.
I draped the dark fabric over myself and lifted the hood. Thank goodness the sky was blanketed gray. Any passerby would think I was preparing for rain. I hustled as fast as I could, not stopping for breath until the Idlewild was out of sight. Guilt pinched my ribs. Jack would soon know I wasn’t aboard, but he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it for at least three hours while the boat was coursing the river.
The cab I’d arranged for earlier waited for me at the corner I’d requested. By ten tonight, I would be in Pittsburgh, arriving a full day and a half before the Idlewild. If my uncle was tracking the boat, he’d no doubt have his henchmen waiting for me there at the dock. It felt good to outsmart him.
“Are you Miss Irene Simmons?” The young driver wearing a faded cap and bright smile waved me over.
It took me a second to remember the alias I’d given this morning on the phone at the drugstore. At the time, I’d been so flustered about slipping out unnoticed from the boat that my preoccupied brain had me rattling off the first name that came to mind. “I am. Thank you for being prompt.” I waited as he opened the back door, and I slid inside the black Ford.
The driver positioned behind the wheel. “Where to, miss?”
“The bus terminal, please.” I clutched my bag in my lap, my nerves jostling with each quickened heartbeat. The terminal was only a few miles away. I could have easily walked, but I was already pressed for time after waiting for the Idlewild to leave shore.
With dark clouds moving in, daylight faded even faster on this charming small town. All of the businesses were locked up for the evening, except for the corner drugstore. The same place I’d visited this morning to call a taxi and splurge on a chocolate soda.
Soon the bus terminal came into view and my pulse kicked faster. But…the taxi wasn’t slowing. “Here’s my stop.” My voice cracked along with the remains of my composure. “Sir, you missed the terminal.”
“No worries, miss. I will get you to the proper destination.” His final two words caused my fingers to bite into the seat cushion.
I swallowed, trying to get my throat to obey. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Charles Jones.”
Jones! This was the man Duffy had been corresponding with? The lawyer who represented my family? He seemed far too young. Too unpolished. And I found considerable fault with how he ran his practice, considering he’d just abducted me. How had he—
“Sorry about the strange means of introduction.” He braked, allowing a young couple to cross the street. He glanced at me over his shoulder. His hat cast a shadow over his eyes, but I could tell from his smooth jawline that he was indeed young. Maybe even younger than me. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize me.”
I blinked. “How could I? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Ah, you’re wrong. I followed you to the drugstore this morning and stood in the booth beside yours. That’s how I knew you were running away. I took it upon myself to cancel the cab you booked and decided to escort you myself. With your captain’s approval, of course.”
What? Of all the crazy things. Duffy knew about this? “You followed me?” My head spun faster than the quaint town scenes outside my window.
“I’ve been scouting the Idlewild at the ports since Steubenville. Captain sent me an urgent wire a week or so back. He was concerned the closer we got to Pittsburgh, the greater the chance Fairview’s men might try to kidnap you.”
“So you kidnapped me first. How kind of you.” My tone dripped with sarcasm. It all fell into place. That was the emergency message Duffy had sent the day of the excursion when I couldn’t locate him. He could have at least said something. Then again, the man had a habit of withholding precious information from me.
“When I saw you bounding off the boat this morning, I knew right away it was you.” He held up a half-torn picture, angling it my direction.
It was a photo…of me.
I squinted at the image of me dressed in the same frock I’d worn the day I asked Jack to meet me. My right hand held my calliope book. Comprehension struck. “That’s the picture the newspaperman took. How’d you get it?”
“The captain.” He lowered the picture and stuffed it in his pocket.
Duffy. My fingers bunched the fabric of my cloak. I should have known. He’d no doubt spoken to the journalist. The steamboat captain had muttered here and there about being quoted in the local paper, but conveniently refrained from mentioning he’d acquired the picture.
“He wanted to be sure I knew who I was protecting. Pretty important.”
No. What was important was me getting to the terminal before my bus departed. “I have my own plan, thank you very much. And it doesn’t include you.”
“Best for you if it does.” He turned, checking the traffic, giving me a better glimpse of his profile. His lips were pressed together, making a dimple dent his smooth cheek. “You see, Bradford Fairview wants you dead, and he’s gone to great lengths to see to it.”
I pushed past the nausea invading my stomach. “I’m disclaiming my birthright. I don’t want it.”
Mr. Jones’s snort of laughter sent a wave of agitation through me. “A man like him, so consumed with money and greed? Nah, he won’t believe you.”
“Then I’ll put it in writing. Have witnesses. Make it as legal as the will itself. Then I won’t have to marry a man I don’t know.”
He scratched the back of his neck, bringing my attention to his dark hair curling beneath his cap. “I’m not sure if it’s something you can denounce.”
I sniffed. “I’m sure I could.”
“Tell me, you ever plan on having babies?”
I blinked at his intrusiveness. What a time to be asking something so personal. “Someday,” was all I could bring myself to mutter.
He shook his head. “Then it won’t work.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re not making sense.”
“The will is specific about the generational succession. If you turn over the company, it would return right back to your children. The company is to stay in the family line. Your family line.”
My lips trembled. “You don’t mean—”
“That he’d kill your children? I absolutely mean that. The man’s a devil.”
All the fight I’d so stubbornly clung to fled in a defeated whoosh of breath. “Then how is he ever to be stopped?”
“Mr. Thomas.”
The man I was to marry. “What role does he have in all this?”
“A powerful one.”
A chill trickled down the length of my body, and I pressed my back agains
t the cushion.
“Even a murdering crook like your uncle won’t mess with Thomas. You’ve got an impenetrable ally with him. Thomas has powerful friends and just enough dirt on your uncle to keep him in his place. When you marry him, that protection extends to you.”
This was what Duffy had meant when he said there was more to explain. I slid my eyes shut. The only way to stay alive was to unite myself with Mr. Thomas. The oppressive sorrow I’d been snubbing the past week smiled smugly and settled in for an extended stay. My heart mourned for the life I craved but that was fading away and for the sad existence I was forced to accept. Darkness invaded the skies even as it had my soul. I had to find another way. I prayed with everything in me.
“The wedding’s set for tomorrow. It’s my job to get you there.”
My hand slapped over my mouth. I was going to retch. I sat in queasy agony for several minutes before braving to speak. “Where are you taking me now? And exactly who are you in all this rigamarole? I’ve never known a lawyer to be so unorthodox.”
His laughter filled the car’s cabin. “I’m not your lawyer, lady. My father is. We’re on our way to see him now.” He braked at a stop sign and looked over his shoulder again. “No doubt you’ll find the great Garrison Jones a bit pompous, but it’s in your best interest to listen to him.”
Something crashed into us from behind. I lurched forward, colliding into the back of the front bench. The crunch of metal on metal scraped my ears.
Mr. Jones cussed and jumped out of the car. “What are you doing? You can’t run a stop sign if someone’s right in front of you, genius.”
I peered out the window. This stretch of road had no streetlamps. All I managed to see were moving shadows. The dark profiles launched at each other, and I gasped at the unmistakable sound of fists against flesh.
What could I do? Should I leave this man to fend for himself and make my getaway? I couldn’t rightly interject myself into their fight. But I could run for help.
I reached for the door, but it swung open before my fingers grasped the handle. A giant of a man crouched in the opening.
Undercurrent of Secrets Page 21
