Her breath puffed out of her in short pants as she leaned her back against the closed door. Could she really take the dagger? It was her dowry, after all—the bait to lure a suitor into matrimony and buy her father an heir. But it was also an act of disobedience, although one that wouldn’t be necessary if she wore trousers instead of skirts.
Nicole glared at the traveling costume laid out upon the larger of the two trunks as she pulled the dagger from beneath her nightdress and took it from its velvet bag. She fingered the jewels on the hilt and bit her lip. Her father would be furious if he found out, and her mother disappointed. But what choice did she have? Jenkins wouldn’t give up. Fletcher and Will had nearly succeeded in forcing Papa’s hand when they broke in. They’d only get bolder in the next attempt. She needed to draw their fire, and this was the best way to accomplish that.
Having made her decision, Nicole proceeded to dress and finish packing. Her usual blade went into her satchel, leaving her garter sheath free for more important cargo. The protection of the Renard family legacy now rested on her shoulders. She’d guard it well.
Nicole paused in the doorway of Renard House later that morning and eyed the waiting coach with a hint of trepidation. Oh, it wasn’t the Jenkins brothers who gave her pause. She could handle those two. No, it was the rest of the plan that had her mouth going dry.
A husband.
It had all seemed so straightforward in the beginning. Find a good man, one with integrity and knowledge of the shipping industry. Offer him management of her father’s company. But how was she to discern a man’s worthiness? With her papa’s illness ticking like a clock winding down in her mind, she didn’t have the luxury of taking her time. She had to choose wisely, quickly. Yet what if the right man for Renard Shipping was the wrong man for her?
Nicole tightened her grip on the satchel she carried. I need help, Lord, her spirit pled. You led Abraham’s servant to Rebekah when he searched for a wife for Isaac, and I ask that you do the same for me. Lead me to the right man, and help me to recognize him when I find him.
“Having second thoughts?” Her mother came up behind her and gently nudged her out onto the porch. Their full skirts swished together as Nicole turned to reassure her.
“No. Just seeking some direction before heading out.”
Maman smiled. “Always a wise choice.” She took Nicole’s free hand in her own and gave it a heartening squeeze. “I have been praying, too, and I will pray for you every day that you are gone. You have the Ackermans’ address?”
“Yes. In my satchel. Though I’ve read over it so many times, I think I have it memorized.”
“Good.” She linked her arm through Nicole’s, and together they strolled down the steps toward the carriage. “You know, Thomas Ackerman might be a good candidate for you.”
Tommy? Nicole’s step stuttered. Marry Tommy Ackerman? That would be like marrying her brother. “He’s a bit young to be running a shipping company, don’t you think? He’s only a year older than I am.”
Maman squeezed Nicole’s arm into her waist and grinned. “He’s been raised in the business, just like you have. He’d find his way. Besides . . .” She tilted her head, her eyes warming as she met her daughter’s gaze. “There are more important things in life than business. Marriage is one of them. Choose the man who will make you the best husband, not the one who will make the best heir for your father. Agreed?”
How was it that her mother always knew the perfect thing to say? A grin tugged at Nicole’s mouth as she nodded. “Agreed.”
They reached the end of the walk. Her father stood leaning against the stone pillar that supported the iron gate.
“Well, Nicki,” he said, a gleam of pride in his eyes. “Are you ready for a grand adventure?”
She favored him with a saucy wink. “I’m a Renard. I was born for adventure.”
Papa laughed. “What did I tell you, Pauline? Nothing to worry about. Not with this one.”
He leaned forward and took Nicole’s shoulders in his hands, his gaze growing serious. “Take care, daughter.”
“I will, Papa.”
For a moment it looked as if he would say more. She waited, hoped, but he cleared his throat and stepped back. Nicole squelched her disappointment. Papa never was one to linger over sentimentality.
Squaring her shoulders, Nicole conjured up a cheery grin for her parents’ benefit. “I guess it’s time to go, then.”
After kissing her father’s cheek and embracing her maman for a final time, Nicole allowed John to hand her into the carriage. She waved her farewells as the team pulled away, then settled back into the seat cushion.
She’d not fail. No matter what it took, she’d smuggle the Lafitte Dagger out of Galveston and find an heir for her father.
Nicole eyed each building they passed, each alleyway. She’d not relax until she was on board ship and locked in her stateroom.
The carriage turned down an unexpected street, two blocks short of where the docks began. Frowning, Nicole tapped on the door between her and the driver. “What’s going on, John?”
“Not sure, miss, but I spotted one of your father’s men on the street, and he signaled for me to turn. Thought I better see what was up.”
“Was it someone you trust?” Alarm bells rang in Nicole’s head. What if this was some sort of trap? What if Jenkins had paid off some of her father’s men to learn the details of her trip in order to kidnap her and hold her for ransom?
“It was Albert Mathis.”
Nicole released a breath and sat back. Albert Mathis had worked for her father for nearly twenty years. He’d not betray them.
John brought the team to a halt at the same time Mr. Mathis dodged around the edge of the nearest building. Just to be cautious, Nicole pulled her knife from the side pouch of her satchel. Trust was all well and good, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
CHAPTER 4
Mathis looked up and down the street and then jogged over to the carriage. Nicole lowered the window glass.
“We’ve got a problem.” He didn’t really look at her. He continued to search the street as if afraid someone would discover them at any moment.
Nicole’s stomach clenched. “Is it Jenkins?”
“Yep.” Mathis spoke through gritted teeth. “Those boys of his planted themselves on the dock in front of the Midnight Lady. They’re just standing there, waiting. My guess is, for you.”
“But how did they know?” Nicole laid her knife on the seat cushion, grabbed hold of the window ledge, and thrust her face fully into the opening. She wanted to see his face as he made his explanation. “Papa didn’t even put my name on the manifest. None of the crew outside of the Midnight Lady’s captain knew to expect me on board.”
Mathis met her gaze without blinking. “I busied myself on the docks nearby hoping to overhear something, but the only thing they did was argue over whether or not it was the right ship. Then Fletcher said something about it having to be because it was the only Renard ship scheduled to leave between nine and noon, and that she had specifically said you’d be leaving after breakfast.”
“She said?” Nicole latched on to the descriptor. “A woman told them?”
“Apparently.” A scowl furrowed his brow.
“That doesn’t make sense.” Nicole plopped her chin on the back of one of her hands still braced on the window ledge. “The only women aware of my travel plans are myself and my mother.”
From up in the box, John muttered a curse. “You’re forgettin’ Margie.”
“Our cook?” The very idea was ludicrous. Or was it? Margie had access to the entire house. She could listen at any door she wanted, and they’d never know.
The thought jarred Nicole back onto the cushioned seat. The sound she’d heard that morning in Papa’s study. What if Margie had been spying on her? She might have figured out that Nicole had the Lafitte Dagger—information she could sell to Carson Jenkins for a handsome price. And she had likely overheard the details of Nicole’s
itinerary. The family had discussed it during dinner last evening, never giving a second thought to the woman who came in to remove dishes and serve dessert.
“She’s been actin’ kind of skittish lately,” John said. “Nothing I could put my finger on. But ever since the break-in, I’ve wondered why she didn’t come fetch me from the coach house. Her room is right off the kitchen, easy access to the back porch. If she heard the intruders—and she should have—she could have come running for help. She didn’t.”
Nicole closed her eyes as her suspicion deepened. “I assumed she’d simply been too frightened to leave her room.”
“Maybe.” John didn’t sound too convinced. “But then there’s the trouble with the door. I examined the lock from every possible angle, Miss Nicki. There was no evidence that it had been busted or tampered with. If I had to guess, I’d say someone had simply left it unlocked the night the Jenkins boys paid their call.” He pounded his leg with a fist. “I should have talked to your father about my suspicions, but I hesitated to accuse Margie.”
Nicole slouched farther into the seat. “It’s not your fault, John. You couldn’t know how it would turn out.” Why would Margie do such a thing? Her chest ached to think someone she’d trusted could have betrayed them in such a way. But at that moment, the whys weren’t as important as the hows. The chief one being: How was she going to circumvent the Jenkins brothers?
“Maybe you ought to just turn around and take the girl back home, John,” Mathis suggested.
Nicole jerked forward. “No!” If she went home now, she would have failed before she’d begun. Unacceptable. There was a way around this. She just needed to think. Turn the circumstances to their advantage.
“Mr. Mathis?” she asked, the germ of an idea taking shape in her mind. “Have any other of my father’s ships left port today?”
The older man pulled off his hat and scratched his graying head. “Morning Glory sailed with the early tide. Cargo only. No passengers on the manifest.”
“Perfect.” Nicole smiled as she fleshed out the bones of her rapidly forming plan. It’d be brazen, and there were a few holes she’d have to work out later, but it could work.
“All right, gentlemen. Here’s what we’re going to do.” She fastened her attention on the man in the street. “Mr. Mathis is going to escort me through the alleyways to the west end of the docks, where I will purchase a ticket on one of the riverboats.”
“But the riverboats don’t go to New Orleans, Miss Nicki,” John pointed out, his tone growing rather alarmed. “They go to Houston. And that rowdy town ain’t no place for a young lady on her own. Your father would skin my hide if I let you go there.”
“Houston’s not the only destination,” Mathis said thoughtfully. “She could travel up the Trinity to Liberty. It’s smaller, more settled. Sam Houston himself prefers it and even keeps a law office there. It’d be safe enough.”
“Not to mention closer to New Orleans,” Nicole added. “I won’t need to stay there long. Just long enough to throw Jenkins off the scent. Then I can come back down the Trinity to Galveston Bay and board one of Papa’s steamers to New Orleans as originally planned.
“John, I want you to continue on to the Midnight Lady, just as if I’m still in the coach. I’ll draw the curtains over the windows and leave one of my trunks tied to the back to keep Will and Fletcher’s attention. My guess is they’ll pounce on the carriage the moment you leave to see about the luggage. And that’s exactly what we want.”
“It is?”
Nicole grinned. “Yes. Because when they make their move, you will return to confront them. You’ll act as if the information they learned from Margie was nothing more than a clever ruse. We wanted them to believe I was sailing on the Midnight Lady, you’ll explain, because then they wouldn’t be around to witness the sailing of Morning Glory.” She smiled. “And it wouldn’t hurt for you to gloat a little.”
Mathis caught the spirit of her scheme and started nodding. “They’ll assume they’ve missed you and won’t search the docks for another possible departure.”
“Exactly. We’ll discredit Margie’s information so the Jenkinses won’t trust whatever else she might be tempted to disclose, and we’ll clear the path for me to make my run to Liberty. John can leave a message with the Midnight Lady’s captain that I will not be sailing as planned, and he can forward it on to the Ackermans.”
“I’ll also have to explain the situation to your father,” John said, dread lacing his voice. “He won’t be pleased with this development.”
“True,” Nicole agreed, “but I suspect he’ll appreciate my improvisation. I’m still accomplishing his plan, just taking a slightly different route to get there. Tell him not to expect to hear from me anytime soon and not to try to contact me. Jenkins will probably be watching the mail, so writing would just give away my position. In fact, no one but the three of us and my parents should even be aware of my detour. Everyone else should be left to assume I traveled to New Orleans as originally arranged.”
“I don’t like it,” John groused.
Nicole sighed. “Well, it’s not my first choice, either, but it will work. I feel it.”
“Can’t argue with the Renard gut,” Mathis said with a smile, winking at her through the window. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
John grumbled something incoherent from the driver’s box. Nicole opted to interpret it as agreement. They didn’t have any more time to argue. They were perilously close to giving themselves away by being late to the launch. Will and Fletcher weren’t exactly the patient sort. If her carriage didn’t show up soon, one of them was bound to get antsy and leave his post to come looking for her. She couldn’t afford that.
“All right, then,” she announced with a slap of her palm against her thigh. “Let’s get going.” In a flash, she had the window latched and the curtains drawn. She slipped her knife back into the satchel, opened the door, and allowed Mathis to help her alight.
“You need anything from your big trunk, Miss Nicki?” John swiveled in the driver’s box to face her, his face as bland as always. She couldn’t help smiling at him.
“Just the extra funds Maman packed for me.” She circled to the rear of the carriage, where Mr. Mathis was collecting her smaller trunk, but before she could unfasten a single strap, an ominous clacking of hooves against paving stones rent the air.
“Someone’s coming,” John hissed.
Nicole froze. She couldn’t be seen. If word got back to Fletcher Jenkins, their ruse would never work.
“Go, John!” she ordered. The Renard carriage traveling on a side road would stir enough suspicion without it being stopped. There was no help for it. If he didn’t hold up appearances for her, they’d be sunk.
“But the money.”
“We don’t have time. I have enough in my satchel. I’ll be fine. Go!” Without giving him a chance to argue, she grabbed her satchel and ran for the far side of the alley, praying Mr. Mathis would follow with the small trunk. He did.
The two ducked into the nearest alleyway and pressed their backs against the wall, Nicole doing her best not to think about how few coins actually resided in the pocket of her satchel lining. It was enough to purchase a ticket upriver, but it wouldn’t afford her much to live off of afterward. She’d deal with that side of things later, though. Right now, her concern was getting the dagger out of Galveston.
Once the second carriage passed, Mathis stole around the corner and signaled to her. Nicole kept her head down and shadowed his steps, not wanting to draw any attention. Her ears pricked at every sound. Her heart thumped with each footstep. When she and Mathis finally emerged into the bustle of merchants and passengers swarming the west end of the Galveston docks, the crowd offered her anonymity, but she still couldn’t relax. Not until she had the dagger safely away. She jolted at every brush against her arm, flinched at every shout. Her muscles had gone so stiff, it was a miracle she could bend when Mathis pushed her into a chair inside one of the river ship
ping offices and went to inquire about the next boat upriver.
When he returned, Mathis said, “They have a boat leaving in twenty minutes. There are no private chambers available, but there is a ladies’ saloon where you can pass the time in the company of other females.”
Nicole opened her satchel and extracted her money purse. “That should do nicely. Will you see to my trunk while I purchase my passage?”
Mathis bowed to her. “Of course, miss.”
Thankful that he had the wherewithal not to use her name, Nicole smiled her appreciation and made her way up to the ticket counter. She’d been away from home for most of two years and had rarely ventured down to this end of the docks even when home, so most of the men milling about were strangers to her. Hopefully she was a stranger to them, as well. It would make things so much easier should Jenkins decide to ask around about her. It was too late to alter her physical appearance, but at least she could assume a false name. Surely there were enough young brunettes boarding various vessels around the docks to provide adequate cover.
“I’d like to book passage to Liberty, please.”
The clerk smiled kindly, if a bit condescendingly. “Name?”
“Juliet Greyson.” Jules was one of her dearest friends from school. She was always scheming and looking for ways to circumvent the rigid rules Miss Rochester insisted they follow. Nicole doubted she’d mind lending her the use of her name for a few hours. The girl would probably think it all a great lark.
“All right, Miss Greyson. Do you wish to purchase a return ticket, as well?”
“No, thank you. I’m not yet sure when I will be returning.” Or when she’d have enough funds for another ticket. She counted out the necessary coins and pushed them toward the clerk, trying not to think about the paltry sum left in her purse.
“Very well.” The clerk collected the money, made a note in his ledger, then handed her a paper ticket. An illustration of a paddle-wheeler decorated the top along with the name of the boat, followed by her name, destination, and date, all completed in the clerk’s tidy script. “Boarding is already underway. You’ll need to hurry if you hope to find a chair in the saloon. They fill quickly.”