Chapter 2
Ispent the remainder of the afternoon planning. And crying. I read Graham’s letter a dozen times and recalled every word Mr. Ashby said about the situation in Basseterre, which was not much. I should have asked for more details. I should have asked for his help.
My eyes strayed to my armoire more than once, where a carpet bag was stored. It would be just the right size for a quick getaway. Once I began packing it, there would be no going back for me.
All that was left was the escape route. Surely I could not leave during the day; my father would immediately follow me or send someone after me. Nightfall was my departure time, but going alone did not seem wise.
A knock on my door startled me, and then Patrice entered my room. My long-time friend and lady’s maid. The one person I had always counted on to take my side on everything. Would she come with me if I asked?
I sent her a conspiratorial smile. “Patrice, my dear friend.” I stood from my seat on the floor and sauntered over to her. I closed the door after she was fully inside.
She had frozen with her tray of food, staring at me with suspicion. “Yer frien, Miss? I am yer lady’s maid.”
“Surely you do not think I see you as merely my maid. We were practically raised together.” I drew an arm around her shoulders and took the tray with my other hand, setting it on my entry table.
“You see, I am in need of a companion. A comrade, if you will. And there is no one more trustworthy or dependable than you.”
Her narrowed eyes bored into mine. “Mrs. Findlay said ye’d do something like this.”
I pulled back. “When did Melody warn you about me?” I widened my eyes. “She didn’t say this in front of Cameron, did she?” Curse Melody’s insightfulness.
Patrice let out a scoff. “Yer somethin’, Miss. No, she didnae say it in front of the young master. But dinnae think I will go along with yer schemes.”
I shrugged, walking to my armoire. “Then I will simply go without you.”
Patrice watched me begin packing, arms folded. I knew without looking that she’d come around. She was as predictable as I apparently was. I could only hope that Cameron and my father did not see through me so easily.
“’Tis dinner time, Miss,” Patrice said with impatience. “Aren’t ye going down?”
“Did you not bring me dinner?” I gestured to the tray.
“Because young master thought you’d want to be alone.”
“He was correct.” I’d nearly finished packing. With such a small bag, there were not many things that fit. I knew hardly anything about living on a ship, but surely one could do laundry on it.
“Now that I know yer not wallowing, ye should attend dinner.”
“I’d rather not. Perhaps that will let me get away easier.”
“Yer wrong about that.” She took the carpet bag from me.
I tried to grab it back, but she held it away, giving me no choice but to look into her face.
Her expression had changed to resignation, a sure sign of acceptance from Patrice.
“Going to dinner will prove that yer not going anywhere. Put on a show, make them all think yer resigned to Graham’s decision but that yer angry about it. ”
I grinned. “Throw them off the scent.”
“Aye.” She placed the carpet bag inside the armoire. “Now get dressed and come down.”
I continued smiling at her as she left my room. I knew I could count on Patrice. She had never let me down before. My plan was coming together, and I felt more confident in it now that I had a companion.
When I entered the dining room, I had carefully schooled my expression to betray nothing of my plans.
I sighed harshly, showing my anger. I frowned, showing my sadness.
I barely ate, showing my listlessness. My father ignored my poor manners, as he had come to do when Melody moved into the castle.
Most of his attention went into his daughter-in-law and her child—soon to be children.
It didn’t offend me, as it may have other daughters.
My father had always been harsh with me.
Our temperaments clashed, both being stubborn in different ways.
“Now that you are in your final days, Melody, I do hope you are resting well.” My father cut his meat as he spoke.
“Mama takes naps in my nursery,” little Logan told everyone.
I smiled into my cup as I took a drink. Melody and Cameron laughed while my father gave a piece of his meat to his grandson as a reward for his honesty. He doted upon Logan more than any of us had expected.
“That is good to hear,” my father told him. He glanced at me again. His eyes betrayed his concern, and I was genuinely surprised to see it. “And you, Elspeth? Did you find rest today after our visitor?”
I had to fix my expression to one of tortured despair. “Yes, Papa. As well as I could. It is still…hard to swallow.”
“I never expected that of Graham, to be sure. It sounds like he has ruined his business. If I could help him, I would, but at this point, it seems hopeless. Even if I do like him, I would not wish poverty on my only daughter.”
His concern did touch me, but my stubborn heart beat roughly with disagreement. It was on the tip of my tongue to refute his words, but one glance at Patrice in the corner of the room set me back on my path to cover up my intentions.
“I will try to accept it.” I lowered my eyes and sighed heavily. I put my fork down with almost too much force. “Excuse me. I have no appetite, and I fear I am very poor company. I will return to my room to quell my disappointment.”
I left them all in a hurry, brushing pretend tears away and sniffing to accentuate the act.
Once I reached my bedroom, I fell onto my bed and began waiting for everyone to go to sleep. I shouldn’t have been surprised when my door opened and Melody entered with a knowing sigh.
I sat up in my bed, feigning innocence. She folded her arms above her swollen belly and lifted an eyebrow.
She knew. I smiled back at her, not sheepishly. With determination. With certainty.
“You don’t really think Cam will let you sail across the Atlantic, do you?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Well, he can’t do it with you expecting soon. And you heard Papa, he doesn’t think Graham is worth the trouble. So it falls to me. You don’t actually think me capable of waiting any longer.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
She shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“I assure you,” I said, standing and walking to her, “I am perfectly serious.”
We stared at each other for a long moment, two stubborn women trying to convince each other silently.
I crossed my arms. “You can’t stop me.”
“I can tell Cam.”
“You wouldn’t,” I responded, narrowing my eyes.
“If it meant you’d be safe, I would.”
At that, I walked forward and took her hands in mine. “Admit it. You would do it for Cam.”
She scoffed and I knew I had her.
“You know you would,” I continued. “You did something similar for someone much less worthy.” I usually tried not to bring up her past mistakes—like running away to London on the mistaken assumption that she was in love with a man who had only wanted her fortune.
“That was different… it was London.” She sighed heavily, presumably berating herself for her poor judgement back then.
I gave her a look that communicated my triumph in teasing her, then I placed my hands on my hips.
“Yes, and it was Richard Cole. A despicable cad. This is Graham. He is worth running away for. Besides, consider the prospect of the West Indies. That in itself would convince you to go.” I grinned at her.
We had spoken of our desire to travel many times in the past three years.
Her mind had opened since she had come to Scotland—a land she used to be wary of but now loved.
Her eyes narrowed and she walked to my bed before spinning around. “You think you know me so well.”
“I do. And you know me.”
She stared at me again, and I could see it in her eyes: the moment her thoughts aligned with mine. She lifted her arms in defeat before letting them fall back to her sides. “Fine. What do you need from me?”
I gave an inward cheer and pulled her in for a quick hug. “Thank you.” I knew I’d lure her into my scheme. “I just need you to cover for me for a day or two. Long enough for me to find passage to St. Kitts.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. Then, nodding, she said, “I can do that. Under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Take Patrice with you.”
“I’ve already enlisted her. She’ll probably make a better sailor than I will.”
Melody chuckled. “You’re probably right about that.” She paused and then paced, thinking. Her finger tapped her chin. “I think you should wait until we can make better plans. You don’t need to go headlong into this journey. Things like this need more time to come together.”
I felt restless. “I am leaving tonight. I cannot wait any longer or I shall go mad.”
We were the same in this regard; impatient, impulsive, and driven toward our goals. She stopped pacing, as if giving up.
“Fine. Go through the kitchens and take some food…I’ll leave money for you before I head to bed.
And have Patrice take my horse. It’s the only one that can keep up with yours.
” She sighed and rubbed her belly distractedly.
“Your father and Cameron may never forgive me if you don’t return.
I’ll never forgive myself. Remember that we’re all waiting for you.
And you will have a new niece or nephew waiting as well.
” She patted her stomach with both hands, a smile brightening her eyes.
We enveloped each other in a hug. She squeezed me so tightly that I could feel her baby moving under the pressure. A reminder of the things I’d miss while away.
“Be safe,” she whispered to me.
“I’ll do my best. Don’t worry, I’m strong and resilient. I can make it through anything, just like you.”
She pulled back and wiped tears away. “I know. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
With that, she left my room and let me go.
I penned a letter to Cameron and Father, apologizing while also making it clear that I was not sorry for anything. I knew deeply that my choice was right. It came as naturally as my decision to marry Graham in the first place.
As much as he vexed me, I would not give up on our promise to each other so easily.
He would have to break our engagement personally.
I knew that if we were face to face, it wouldn’t be so simple for him to say those things.
As I put my pen away, my hand brushed against a stack of unsent letters to Graham bound in string.
I ran a finger along them, and on a whim, I put them in my carpet bag.
Perhaps those two dozen letters would make him think again about ending things between us.
I sat in front of my vanity, waiting for Patrice to enter after everyone had gone to bed, as we had planned earlier.
I let the anticipation fill me up until only one thought remained.
A burning, indignant thought that moved me to action.
I crossed my arms and glared at my own reflection as his face appeared in my mind’s eye.
Just you wait, Graham Anderson. Just you wait until I find you.