Chapter Eight
August 25, 1817
Elizabeth barely heard her brother as he talked about his plans for the afternoon. The sunshine outside the parlor windows took all her attention. It had rained unceasingly for the past three days, which meant she hadn’t seen Brand for the same. Despite her duties and obligations, the only thing occupying her mind was the captain and how his scandalous kisses had made her feel. Even now, after so much time, she swore his touch still lingered on her person.
However, the charming man had made certain that she knew he’d been thinking of her too, for on the second day apart, he’d sent over a small bouquet of summer flowers usually found for sale on handcarts along the wharf. The note had been brief but poignant: Thinking of you. Counting down the minutes until we can be together again. Those words would forever live in her heart from the romance of it all. William, in true brotherly style, had adamantly protested the floral tribute, demanding the name of the sender. She’d lied and said she didn’t know, for there had been no name signed on the card.
“Are you listening, Elizabeth?” The annoyance in William’s voice was pronounced.
“Hmm?” She directed her attention to her brother, but Brand occupied her thoughts. Would he send for her this afternoon? Or should she take initiative and seek him out this time? “Did you say something?”
“Of course, I did.” He poured another round of tea into his cup and then spread marmalade onto his toast. “I’ve been asking your opinion about a particular passage of this speech I’m giving this evening for the missionary society. You’ve said nothing.”
“My apologies. I was woolgathering.” She glanced at her half-full plate of breakfast goods, but her appetite had fled. It had been missing since she’d last seen Brand. What was he doing now? Was he anxious to see her?
“You’ve been doing so much of that lately I’m beginning to fear for your soul.”
A laugh escaped her. “Slipping into pleasant thoughts is not going to send me to hell.” Though, some of those kisses Brand had given her might. Why did such things feel so wonderful but mean such dire things?
“What has you in the clouds, Sister? I’ll have the story right now, for you have responsibilities to attend.” William tapped the table with a long forefinger. “Speak.”
As if she were a dog trained to bark on command.
Where was the harm in being truthful? It might shock her brother into silence. “Over the past week or so, I’ve been spending time with one of the men in town.” When William’s eyebrows crept toward his slightly receding hairline, she rushed onward. “I truly believe said man is courting me.” At least that’s what it had felt like. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but Brand had been everything gentlemanly and charming. And outside of the kisses they’d shared and the ale he chose to drink in her company, he’d been more or less proper.
“Who would dare do such a thing without securing my permission?” William set his teacup down into its saucer with a decided clink.
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “Captain Storme.” She held up a hand when her brother’s face began to purple. “Before you say anything, he’s been a gentleman. We only spend perhaps an hour or two together each day.”
“Without a chaperone.” His tone implied that was the worst of all sins.
“I didn’t feel we needed one, and I’m of an age that I know my own mind.” She lowered her gaze to her plate. “Besides, it’s not as if anyone else has noticed or has wanted to squire me about Ipswich.”
“That man is a known rake!” The thunder in William’s voice set her teeth on edge. When he slammed a fist onto the tabletop, cutlery crashed against china. “Furthermore, he is not for you. I believe I’ve already told you this.” Lightning flashed in his blue eyes.
She waved away his ire as if it were an annoying gnat. “The captain is harmless. I doubt he has a nefarious thought in his head.”
“Oh, Elizabeth.” William shook his head. Shock and disgust warred for dominance in his expression. “I highly doubt that’s true. Men like Captain Storme wish for one thing—taking a woman to bed. Their currency is scandal, and they dine out on sin. I’ll wager he wants to deflower you. Please, have some sense in your head, and steer clear of him.”
Indignation rose hot and heavy within her chest. “Is it too much to think I might have value outside of your world or that of the church?” Was that all she was, then? “Can you not fathom that a man might have seen something interesting in me?” Brand certainly had, for hadn’t he said that from their very first meeting?
“Yes, if it was any other man in Ipswich I might agree with you, but Captain Storme is not a good person. Neither is he a godly man.”
“You don’t know that.” Neither did she, but it was something she meant to find out. “Perhaps he is exactly who I need and has been sent by God.”
“I’m not convinced our savior would send you that man. It’s akin to putting a lamb into a pen with a wolf.” William pinned her with an intense stare—the look he employed on listeners when he wanted them to follow his dictates. “Stay away from him, Elizabeth. The church is your place, and you’d do well to remember that.”
“So, just like that, I don’t a have a future.” She snapped her fingers as the annoyance built. “I’ve grown tired of you dictating to me how to live my own life. The church only uses me as you do, to further your causes, to do things you consider far beneath your station.”
“Elizabeth Anne!” William appeared so aghast from her words that he dropped his knife. It bounced off the table and clattered upon the hardwood floor. His mouth opened and closed like a caught trout. It took several seconds for him to regain the powers of speech. “Ministering within the evangelical movement has been your calling for years.”
“No, it’s yours. You only assumed I wanted to do the same.”
He curled a hand into a fist and talked over her as if she hadn’t responded. “Why would you wish to toss it away by throwing your lot in with a man with no discretion and little to recommend him?”
Was that true? Brand had mentioned in passing the wish to build a shipping company, but he’d done nothing more than that. Yes, he owned a sloop, yet without an income, how would he continue to rent his rooms? She narrowed her eyes on William. Did any of that matter when there was love in the offing? “I haven’t tossed away anything. I’m simply stating that you and I are going down different paths. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Finally, her words sank in, for his expression softened, as did the look in his eyes. “You don’t enjoy the work you do in conjunction for the church?”