24. Chapter 24
As soon as Zane's carriage slowed in front of her house, Muriel threw open the door and jumped out, not waiting for assistance.
"Keep yer seat, Eddie. I'll just be a minute."
The Ericksons' driver had navigated the streets with skill, speed, and a smidgeon of reckless abandon.
Muriel couldn't have asked for a better blend.
She attacked her task with the same daring, having half of the hooks running down her bodice undone before she made it through the house and to her room.
Heedless of crushing the fabric, she unfastened the skirt closure and let it fall to the floor while she shrugged out of the open bodice and tossed it onto her bed.
Her fingers untied the front laces of her corset with practiced efficiency.
She tore off her petticoats, chemise, and drawers, then sat on the edge of her bed to remove her shoes and stockings.
Muriel tugged open the dresser drawer that had been closed to her for far too long.
The sight of the navy-blue swimming suit brought a momentary rush of joy before thoughts of Fletcher banished everything but urgency.
She yanked the masculine bathing costume from the drawer, gathering the one-piece knitted wool garment in her hands.
She stepped into the attached drawers that reached nearly to her knees then wiggled and tugged to get the short-sleeved tunic over her hips.
Stretching the wool up over her chest, she slid her arms into the sleeves then tied closed the small opening at the front.
She knotted it twice to ensure it didn't come open while she swam.
After throwing a loose-fitting housedress over the ensemble, she shoved her feet into the special ankle-high bathing shoes her da insisted she wear to protect her from the shells and stones that lined the sea floor.
The thin leather soles wouldn't hold up long to regular use, but she didn't want to take the time to change her shoes once she reached the shore.
Besides, she had Zane's carriage to take her most of the way.
She needed to take her hair down and fashion it into a tight plait for swimming, but she'd do that on the way. Every minute saved increased her chances of reaching Fletcher before the deadline. So she grabbed her hairbrush and a ribbon then ran outside.
"To the Beach Hotel, Eddie," she called as she yanked open the carriage door. "And use the west side entrance."
"Yes, miss."
As soon as she clicked the door shut, he set the horses in motion. Muriel tore the pins from her hair with a ruthlessness that left her scalp stinging, then yanked her brush through her tresses until the tangles pulled free.
The carriage bumped over ruts and teetered around corners, sliding Muriel about on the seat and making fashioning a plait tight enough for swimming quite a challenge.
Thankful to have a task to focus on that kept the worry at bay, she worked the braid over her left shoulder then fastened the end with a dark blue ribbon.
Once finished, Muriel peered out the lowered carriage window into a dusk rapidly transitioning into night.
Merciful Father, please keep Fletcher safe. She bit her lip. It's me own fault he's in this mess. So if you deem a price needs to be paid, let me be the one to pay it.
The salty tang of the sea filtered in through the open window, a smell that had always stirred her heart with cheer.
Her mouth set in a determined line as the ocean's aroma settled into her bones.
Tonight she swam not for pleasure but for purpose.
Doubts niggled, reminding her that she hadn't swum since Zane's accident, and that had been no significant distance.
Without her regular exercise routine, would she tire before she reached the boat?
Grant me the endurance and speed I need to save Fletcher. Freshen me muscles and stretch me lungs 'till I be fit fer the journey. I need ye, Lord. Relyin' on me own strength is what tied me to Mrs. Underhill in the first place. I'll not be makin' that same mistake again.
A hymn filtered through her mind at that moment, deepening her prayer.
I need Thee, O I need Thee;ev'ry hour I need Thee;O bless me now, my Savior,I come to Thee.
The Beach Hotel loomed ahead, and Muriel's chest began to throb.
Alana must be frightened out of her mind.
How Muriel dreaded telling her sister why her son was in danger, but there was no time for tender-footin' around with long explanations.
Muriel would just have to spit out the truth and take whatever stinging lashes Alana flung.
Her heart could bear the cuts as long as her arms and legs remained whole.
When the carriage rolled to a halt, Muriel climbed down without assistance and marched toward the door that led to Alana and Liam's personal quarters. Bracing herself as if she were about to swim through a swarm of jellyfish, she reached for the door handle and let herself inside.
"Liam? Is that you?" Alana rushed from the girls' room carrying eighteen-month-old Colleen clutched to her chest. Four-year-old Shannon trailed behind.
"Did ye find . . . Muriel?" Tears sprang to her sister's eyes as she rushed forward.
"Did Da send ye? Praise be! I was about to lose me mind with the waitin'.
Fletcher went to pay a call on Laraline Seward and didn't make it home fer supper.
Liam went after him, but he's been gone fer over an hour.
Somethin's happened to me boy. I know it.
" Her words broke off on a quiet sob as she reached for Muriel's hand.
Muriel took it and squeezed, her heart brimming with sorrow and sympathy. "I know where he is, Alana. And I aim to get him back fer ye."
Tension speared through Alana's fingers a moment before she tugged her hand free. "What do ye mean, ye know where he is?"
Regret tore a hole through Muriel's chest. "Mrs. Underhill hired smugglers to take him in order to force me hand. She's an evil woman desperate to get what she wants. So desperate, she'll use a wee one as leverage."
Alana paled and stumbled backward. She reached a trembling hand down to cup Shannon's head where the girl had buried her face in her mam's skirt.
"Fletcher's been taken by smugglers? God help us.
" Color suddenly rushed to Alana's waxy cheeks.
She advanced on Muriel like an avenging angel.
"I told ye not to get involved with that woman!
But ye always have to do things yer own way, don't ye?
Never thinkin' of the trouble it might bring to others.
Now my babe is in the hand of smugglers because of ye! Get out o' me house! Out!"
Muriel bore up under the accusations, knowing her sister's fear for Fletcher fueled the barbed shouts, yet tears still pooled in her eyes. Nevertheless, she held firm.
"Alana, ye have every right to yer anger, but getting to Fletcher is more important than flailing me hide right now.
He's on a boat anchored offshore. I'm gonna swim out to him under the cover of twilight while Zane meets with Mrs. Underhill.
If I can get to him before eight-thirty, there's a good chance I can rescue him before she can signal the smugglers.
Even if Zane hands over the real ledger, I don't trust her to keep her word about not harmin' Fletcher. He'll be safer with me."
"In the water?" Alana's voice rose in pitch. "Are ye mad? We need to alert the city police. Have her arrested."
"Fer what? She doesn't have Fletcher. He's out on a boat.
We've got no proof that she ordered the kidnapping outside of her maid's say-so, and ye know how the serving class is treated.
No one will believe Vanessa over her well-connected mistress.
Fer all we know, Mrs. Underhill has the constable in her pocket, too.
The woman seems to have blackmailing tentacles stretching across the entire island.
Besides, we've no time. I'll barely have time to swim out to the schooner once I spot it. "
"Ye don't even know where it is?" Alana reached for the bench of the hall tree positioned near the front door and lowered herself onto the seat. "Saints above."
"I know 'tis west o' the hotel. Zane'll meet Mrs. Underhill in the dunes, and the boat will be near enough to signal." Muriel strode past her sister and turned into the kitchen. "Do ye still keep yer keys in the top drawer?"
She yanked open the nearest cabinet and found what she sought. Brass keys jangled as she clasped their ring and pulled it from the drawer. She spun back toward the hall only to find that her niece had followed her and stood in the doorway.
"Shannon, fetch yer da's spyglass fer me, would ye?"
The little girl stared at Muriel with wide eyes then turned toward Alana. "Ma?"
""Tis all right, Shannon. Do as yer auntie says.
" Alana rose from the bench. Holding Colleen tight against her chest, she approached Muriel and took her husband's ring of hotel keys.
"The center dome is the highest point of the hotel.
'Twill give ye the best view of the Gulf.
" She held out a short, stubby key. "This 'un will get you into the attic space beneath the dome.
There's dormer windows facing each direction, so ye can scout west as well as south. Take the service stairway at the back."
Muriel grabbed the key. "Thank ye." She met her sister's worried gaze. "I'll get him back, Alana. I swear it."
Something deeper than fear entered Alana's eyes as her desperate grip closed around Muriel's hand. "I know ye love him nearly as much as I do, Muri, but I beg ye not to do anythin' foolish. I couldn't bear to lose two pieces of me family in one night."