Beloved Counterfeit (22 page)

Something in his expression seemed wrong. “You’ve known me too long to keep a concern from me, Carter. Out with it.”

Josiah shifted positions and bit off a piece of jerky.

“I’ll wait,” Micah said as he took his own bite of the nearly vile meal. As he chewed, he tried not to think of what the diners up at the boardinghouse were eating.
Something much better than this, no doubt.

“All right,” Josiah finally said. “I’ll not tell you this is a marriage that seems hasty, but I will ask you whether you’re sure what you’ll be vowing this evening is something you can promise.”

“Meaning?” Micah asked as he took another bite.

“Meaning I wonder if you’re not. . .” He paused. “I know you fancied Emilie, and what with Caleb now married to her, I’ve got to wonder if Ruby might be. . .” The wrecker seemed to run out of words.

“Be?” Micah felt his ire rising, but he took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. This was, after all, his best friend, a man who would tell him the truth when no other would.

Josiah gave up all pretense of eating the jerky and tossed the remainder of it in Micah’s direction. “Did you make this? It’s awful.” His stare must have worked, for Josiah shook his head. “I’m not a man to talk all around a subject.”

“I respect you for that,” Micah said as he added Josiah’s portion of jerky to his own then leaned back and stretched out his legs as he shook more water from his hair. “So go to it. Whatever you’ve come to say, say it.”

“I’m concerned that Ruby is just a substitute for Emilie.” He, too, leaned back in his chair. “There, I said it. Now go ahead and hit me if you feel so compelled.”

Micah did, though he’d not act on the impulse just yet. “Why?” he managed to ask through clenched jaw.

“It’s just that. . .well, how well do you know the woman? I mean, she and those fair-haired girls washed up on the island without any history at all, and far as I know, no one’s asked them about it.” Josiah paused. “You were there, Micah. You saw the remains of that vessel we pulled them from. It belonged to Hawkins and had so much loot in the hold that the criminal was using gold and silver as ballast.”

“Agreed,” Micah said. “But that proves nothing save the fact that Ruby and the girls were fortunate to have been rescued. I don’t even want to think of what they were made to endure.”

“That’s the problem, Tate. You don’t want to think.” Josiah gave him an even stare. “Think now.” His voice raised a notch. “You were there. You pulled her off that ship and handed her to me to carry back to my boat. Did she look like she was being held prisoner?”

A black anger rose as his fists clenched beneath the table. Saying nothing felt preferable to the foul words Micah longed to unleash on his friend.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Again Micah said nothing.

Josiah rose and moved toward the cabin door as if to check the weather or feign some interest in the goings-on out on the bay. When he turned, his face was hidden in shadows by the sun shining at his back.

“The explosion that broke your arm and sunk the
Caroline
stole your memory of that night, didn’t it?”

Something he’d told no one. It seemed shameful that he’d lost time and could not account for it, an odd thought now that Josiah presented it as such. Slowly Micah nodded.

Josiah came to sit across from him again. “Nothing about that night remains?” he asked as he pointed to Micah’s forehead.

“Nothing after the call of wreck ashore,” he admitted. “The next memory is of Doc Hill patching me up by wrenching my arm back into place. Told me I’d likely never remember what happened.” Micah’s laughter held no humor. “Would that I could remember what I’ve forgotten.”

“I’ll help you, then. She and those girls were in a nicely appointed stateroom off the starboard bow.” He paused. “Best I could tell, it was attached to the captain’s quarters.” Another pause. “The little one, Tess—she was calling for her papa.”

Micah rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. The implications were obvious. “So you think she was Hawkins’s woman.”

A statement, not a question. It was obvious he did, but Micah wanted him to admit it.

Josiah slammed his palms on the table. “She’s a redhead, Micah, and those girls have blond hair. I’ve seen Hawkins, and so have you.”

Micah looked up. “That means nothing. Hair color changes with age. Half the children in the key are fair-haired.”

“And the fact that Hawkins protected them?”

Numb, Micah rose and stumbled toward his sea chest and opened it. “I need your help,” he said. “You’re my second in command. Go and pick three good men. Men who can be trusted to keep their silence. Offer them a fair wage for an afternoon’s work and bring them to the back gate of the boardinghouse in half an hour. Can you do that?”

“ ’Course I can, but do you mind if I ask why?”

Micah heard the scrape of a chair that indicated Josiah was on his feet. Meanwhile, he reached beneath the ragged quilt he’d slept under as a child to find the only decent set of clothes he had left—his militia uniform.

While he’d intended to marry in it, wearing the uniform for this purpose would have to do. The more he thought on it, it seemed only right. He found his comb and yanked it through his wet hair.

The verse that had only hours ago given him comfort now rose in his mind to taunt him.

“For her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her. . . . She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.”

Phrases that formed part of a whole.
Lord, show me the truth.

“Micah?”

A piece of leather to tie his hair back, and Micah was ready to take a deep breath then answer the question. “I’ve a mind to see my bride,” he said simply.

“Before the wedding?” Josiah came to stand beside him. “Are you serious? You can’t do that.”

Micah reached for a length of toweling and dried his chest and shoulders. “I can, and I will.”

“With the militia?” Josiah shook his head. “Whatever you’ve got in mind, I won’t be a part of it.”

“Then why did you come here?” He pointed at his best friend. “To warn me that I might not be getting what I expected out of this marriage bargain?” When Josiah said nothing, Micah continued, his voice as calm as he could manage. “What did you think I would do?”

“Get angry, maybe, but call out the militia? That I hadn’t expected.” He touched Micah’s arm, and it was all Micah could do not to pull away. “Maybe postponing the wedding is what needs to happen.”

“Postpone until when? I intend to get to the bottom of this mystery right now.” He looked down at his water-soaked trousers then back at Josiah. “In a half hour, that is. Now find these men, and meet me at the boardinghouse’s back gate.”

“Why not go alone?”

“Think about it,” Micah said. “If you’re right and she’s in league with the smugglers, they may have been watching since the day I chased off the Frenchman.”

The wrecker took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “What Frenchman?”

Micah waved away the question. “I’ll need a man each for the front and back gates and one for the back porch. Since the front door is close to the gate, that will be under the watch of the man at the front gate.”

Josiah nodded. “What about me?”

“You’ll be stationed on the stairs. No one goes up or down until I am satisfied of the answers I get from Ruby.”

“But my mother’s there. What if she wants to pass?”

Micah gave Josiah a less-than-patient look. “Find the men, please. Time’s wasting.”

Josiah disappeared around the corner only to shout Micah’s name.

When he stepped onto the deck, he found the wrecker with a lobster attached to his finger. “What are you doing?”

“Get this thing off me,” he said. “I saw it skulking about and thought to throw it into the bucket.”

“You’re supposed to pick it up by the middle, not by the tail.” Micah tried not to laugh but failed miserably as he removed the crustacean and dumped it into the bucket. “Best meet me in an hour instead.”

“Why?” Josiah asked as he shook his injured finger.

“I’ve got three more of these to catch and I should probably inform Caleb of this field exercise of ours.”

“Oh, it’s a field exercise now?”

“Yes,” Micah said, “and unless I’ve missed my guess, getting past Viola and the Gayarre sisters will be much more difficult than any battle either of us has fought.”

Chapter 27

“This time.”

Two words that haunted Ruby all the way up the back stairs at the boardinghouse as she held her skirts just high enough to keep the floor from being dusted with sand. Even with the precaution, Ruby got to the top of the stairs and saw to her dismay she’d left a trail behind her.
Worse, while she hoped the girls might not be waiting for her, she walked into the sitting room to find all three sitting happily on the floor with Mary Carter and Viola Dumont, having what looked to be a tea party.
Of course.

“Oh,” Ruby said, “I thought you’d be here this afternoon.”

Viola rose while the elderly Mrs. Carter merely smiled and continued to sip what was surely water from one of Tess’s tiny teacups. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but once I heard the news, I decided to come on over this morning. The Gayarre sisters still plan to keep their appointment this afternoon, but I couldn’t wait.” She grinned. “I thought perhaps you might be in need of. . .” She glanced down at the girls then back up at Ruby. “Why don’t I just show you?”

Thankfully, Viola said nothing of the disheveled way Ruby looked. She’d begun to think the damage her morning escapade had done was not nearly as visible as she thought. Then she heard Tess’s sweet voice follow them into her bedchamber.

“What happened to my mama? She’s a mess.”

Ruby glanced over her shoulder, her mind ticking through any number of possible responses that might be understandable to a child. All three girls were staring, which made the thinking even harder.

“It’s quite windy this morning,” Mrs. Carter said as she winked at Ruby. “Likely her morning errands took her too near the water, the poor dear.”

“Yes,” Maggie said. “I’m sure that’s it exactly. Now have another sip of tea, Tess.”

“She was with that
man
.” Carol shot Ruby an angry glance. “I don’t think I like him.”

Viola tugged Ruby into the bedchamber and closed the door. “Best you let Mrs. Carter handle this conversation,” she said. “I’m sure she’ll be able to speak to them with a bit less passion than you might.”

Passion
. An interesting word choice. Ruby had wavered between anger and guilt but would have called neither emotion passion.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Viola said as she walked toward the armoire. “I’ve taken the liberty of bringing you something for tonight. I’ll understand if you don’t want to. . .” The midwife shook her head. “Let me just show you.”

She opened the door to reveal a lovely gown hung between Ruby’s two other dresses: the sum total of her wardrobe.
A pale flower among common onions, for sure,
came the silly thought as Ruby watched Viola retrieve the pale blue garment and spread it across the bed.

Ruby gasped. “This,” she managed when her voice returned, “is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.” She took a step back and shook her head. “I can’t wear it,” she told Viola. “It’s too beautiful. Just far too beautiful.”

Viola studied the gown a moment then reached over to run her hand over the bodice. For a second, her expression changed. Just as quickly, her smile returned.

“No, I insist.” She paused. “It would mean very much to me if this dress was finally used for its intended purpose.”

“I can’t possibly try that beautiful gown on in this state.” Ruby looked down at the dress then back at Viola. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I managed to get myself into this condition.”

“A better woman would say no.” Viola grinned and flopped onto the bed beside the dress. “But I’m not a better woman. What in the world did you do? Decide to go swimming in your clothes?”

“Actually. . .” Ruby met Viola’s astonished gaze.

“Ruby? You did?” Her laughter was contagious. “What came over you?”

As she considered the question, Ruby tried to decide how to explain the answer. “I think it might have been a test,” she finally said.

“For you or for Micah?” She pointed a finger at Ruby. “Don’t look so surprised. I saw the two of you walking down the street this morning.”

“For both of us.”

“I would ask if you passed, but I fear it’s none of my business.” Viola scooped the dress into her arms. “Go and get yourself cleaned up,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.” She reached for the knob then seemed to think better of it. “I’m going to hate myself if I don’t ask. Did he pass the test?”

“Yes,” Ruby said as she felt a blush slide up her neck. “Yes, he did. Now if I’m going to have the boarders fed on time, I’ll need to wash this sand off and do something with the mess I’ve made of this dress.”

“Don’t you worry about feeding those boarders,” Viola said. “I’ll manage it. You get yourself cleaned up and put the dress on. Call me when you’re ready to have the dress fitted.”

As she heard the doorknob click, Ruby began to shed her wet things. The basin of water was a poor substitute for a true scrubbing, but she managed. Though she still felt as if she wore a layer of sand on her skin, Ruby finally gave up and set the towel aside, then slipped into her chemise.

She gathered up her soiled clothing and felt something land on her foot. Looking down, Ruby spied the sand dollar Micah had given her that morning. Sinking to the bed, she held the cool shell to her cheek as she closed her eyes.

“Opal, I miss you,” she whispered. “But I’ll not let anything happen. I promise.”

“Ruby, are you ready?” Viola called.

“I fear I’ll need help,” she said as she glanced at the mantel clock then opened the door. “I’ve never worn anything so beautiful. I don’t know where to start.”

Viola set a bag on the edge of the bed. “Before you can don the dress, you’ve got to start with the underpinnings—else it won’t lie right.”

Five petticoats of different varieties, a dress improver tied at the waist and properly fluffed at the back, and a snugly laced corset later, Viola finally reached for the gown and helped Ruby into it. While the back was being fastened, Ruby snuck a peek of herself in the mirror.