Elise wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious in thestreet, but now she felt like falling asleep for a good long time. Two men with a stretcher appeared. They spoke to the doctor, then maneuvered the stretcher beneath her without any apparent concern for her comfort and lifted her from the table. She couldn’t help but moan.
Her father gave them Uncle James’s address, then followed them. She had no chance to bid good-bye to the man who’d rescued her. And he’d been so nice.
After her aunt’s personal maid undressed her and cleaned her up, Elise was again examined by the doctor as she faded in and out of sleep. Finally she heard the doctor tell her aunt to bring in her father.
“I do not see nor feel anything that indicates her back is broken, but I believe she should remain bedfast for at least two weeks. I will come tomorrow and check on her. There’s a great deal of swelling, no doubt. After fourteen days, we can expect the swelling to go down, and then we can reassess the situation.”
“But we planned to leave tomorrow,” she murmured, looking at her father.
“Well, you clearly cannot go.” Papa’s voice was firm, and even in her stupor, Elise knew there would be no arguing with him.
“She will remain with us,” Uncle James said from the open bedroom doorway.
“But Papa needs me to cook on theMary Elise.” She tried her best to ignore the pain.
“We’ll get by, girl. We can take turns cooking for ourselves. I’ll lay in more cheese, fruit, and bread,” her father declared. “I’mjust happy to know you aren’t permanently injured. Or worse yet. You could have been killed.”
“Indeed,” her aunt said, shaking her head.
Elise knew by the expressions on everyone’s faces that she wasn’t going anywhere. She tried to sit up, but the pain was too much, and she fell back. Maybe they were right.
Chapter 2
That evening, Nick Clark made his way down a stately avenue to the estate of James Monroe. He carried all his worldly belongings on his back in a large canvas duffel bag. This way, if he managed to find a job on a ship, he would have no reason to delay the captain. It hadn’t always been this way. Years ago, he’d lived with his family in a place not so different from the Monroes’ grand house.
Standing in front of the three-story brick mansion, Nick could only imagine that the wealth of these people came close to that of his father’s—and maybe exceeded it. The gown worn by the young woman he’d helped was worth more than he would make in a year working as a ship’s mate.
He chuckled. Who would expect a twenty-eight-year-old seaman to know about expensive women’s fashions? But he had two sisters, and such things had always been enormously important to them. How could he not know?
The groomed walkway bid him forward. There were trimmed shrubs on either side for about ten feet, and then the yard openedup. Groundsmen were working on the far side of the front yard. One man was on his hands and knees, trimming the area beneath the flowering bushes. Everything was lovely and perfect.
Nick made his way to the door and knocked. It seemed to take quite a while, but an older woman wearing a mobcap appeared with a frown. She looked him up and down to determine whether he was worth her time, then started to close the door.
“We aren’t looking to hire,” she said. “Don’t need any knives sharpened nor chimneys cleaned. Good day.”
“I’m here to see Miss Wright. Or her father,” he added, knowing it was hardly appropriate for him to visit a young woman of such high society.
The woman stared at him for what seemed an eternity before relenting. “Mr. Wright is in the parlor. Please come in.” She stepped back and let Nick enter, but she wore a definite look of disapproval. “I’ll tell Mr. Wright that you’ve come.” She paused a moment. “I don’t suppose you have a card?”
“No. Just tell him Nicodemus Clark would like a word.”
Her frown deepened. “Very well. Wait here.”
Nick nodded and lowered his duffel to the black-and-white tiled floor. He gazed around the circular entryway. There were mirrors hanging at every angle. They were in matching gold frames and nearly as long as he was tall. In the center of the room stood a round table bearing a huge bouquet of mixed flowers. Large white blooms the size of a man’s fist were trimmed out with pale pink roses and something delicate and lacy looking in a darker shade of pink.
There was a very grand staircase—Brazilian cherry, if he wasn’t mistaken. It rose from a singular point, then split off to the left and right, while arched entryways led out of the foyer to hallson either side of the stairs. It was from the left side that Mr. Wright appeared.
“Nick, good to see you.” Mr. Wright strode into the foyer. He wore a casual suit with a white shirt and tie. He looked just as uncomfortable as he had earlier that day. “What can I do for you?”
Nick laughed. “You could give me a job. God knows I need one. But I actually came to check on your daughter. Was she very badly hurt?”
“No. The doc believes she’s just strained her back. She had a slight concussion from hitting the back of her head, but he wasn’t overly concerned. So thanks be to God, nothing is broken.”
“Indeed. I’m glad to hear it. Well, I won’t keep you.”
“Wait, now. You mentioned being in need of a job. What can you do?”
“Well, I was told you are a ship’s captain. I’ve ten years’ experience on the water.” Nick grinned.
