Page 52 of Part of Your World

Chapter 23

The wooden edge of the desktop dug into Muriel's hands, the pain only a fraction of the torment slashing her heart.

Fletcher. Dear, sweet Fletcher. A boy who combed the beaches after a storm to rescue starfish and return them to the sea. The most innocent of them all had been caught in a net meant for Muriel. She had to cut him free before any harm befell him.

Instinct told her to fall at Octavia Underhill's feet and beg for mercy. To offer herself in Fletcher's place. Perhaps Mrs. Underhill would still find value in her singing voice. She could take Muriel on tour and keep all the proceeds. Muriel would gladly forfeit her own freedom to secure Fletcher's. But even as she lurched away from the desk to run from the room, an unearthly calm settled over her. Jumbled, panicked thoughts clicked into order, and a plan crystalized.

"Vanessa." Muriel cast a quick glance at the clock on the shelf across from the desk. "Find Mrs. Underhill. Tell her that Zane be trackin' down the journal and will meet her at the dunes west of the hotel at eight-thirty."

"Yes, miss."

Thankfully, the young maid responded to the instruction without question and hurried from the office to carry out her assigned task. Mrs. Underhill would likely wonder why Muriel was sending Zane to hand over the journal instead of seeing to the task herself, but Vanessa would be able to answer honestly that she didn't know.

Zane's hand came to rest on Muriel's back, and she pivoted to face him. Emotion surged, and she had to fight off the temptation to collapse against his chest and let him hold her. But she couldn't afford the luxury of basking in his comfort right now. Time was ticking, and every moment counted.

"I need ye to go after yer da. Tell him what's happened. Beg him to give ye the journal. Everything will be easier if he does, but I'll not be puttin' all me eggs in that basket. Mrs. Underhill can't be trusted to uphold her end of the bargain."

Zane searched Muriel's face, and his brow crinkled. "I'll do everything I can to convince him to help. But there's no guarantee he'll surrender, even to help a child. What should we do if I don't get it?"

Bless him for listening instead of arguing. She didn't have the mental strength to fight him and Mrs. Underhill tonight.

"Do what Vanessa suggested—use the replacement journal. Stall as long ye can, refuse to hand it over until Fletcher is safely on shore. Whatever ye can think to do. If she's workin' with smugglers, though, there's a good chance she'll have hired men to take the journal from ye by force. So be careful."

"Where will you be?"

Muriel set her jaw. "Rescuin' Fletcher."

Zane reared back. "What? How?"

She paced to the bookcase, plotting her course aloud more to settle it in her mind than to explain it to him. "The sun will be settin' soon. If ye lend me yer carriage, I can make a stop by me house to grab me suit then get to the hotel and scout out the location of the boat anchored offshore. The fishin' boats will all be in by now, so there's likely to be only the one. It'll be dusk by then, but that'll play in our favor. They won't see me comin'. I'll slip into the water slightly to the east and use the longshore currents to guide me west. Fletcher's a grand swimmer, so if I can signal him, he might be able to slip overboard without the smugglers noticin'. If they have him tied, I'll have to climb aboard to free him, but they'll be watchin' the shore, not the sea, so I should be able to climb aboard without anyone bein' the wiser."

"That's too dangerous, Muriel." Zane ran a hand down his face, his eyes tortured. "What if they see you? They could . . ." His voice choked, and he tore his gaze away from her. "You'll barely be dressed, and . . . well . . . smugglers are rough men. It could go very badly."

Muriel clasped his arm. "I have to go, Zane. I'm the only one who can make that swim. But you can send in reinforcements. Go and get Grandpa Clem and me da. If Fletcher's missin', Liam and Da will be huntin' fer him. Probably at the docks and rail yard. Find them, if ye have time, but don't miss yer appointment with Mrs. Underhill. If she signals the boat before I can get to Fletcher, we might lose him."

Unwanted tears rose in her eyes, but she ruthlessly batted them away.

"I'll not let her hurt him, Zane. I won't."

He held her gaze, his jaw working as if arguments were beating on the back of his teeth, ready to pour out. He swallowed them, though, and gave a quick nod. "I won't either."

His vow strengthened her spirit and dried her eyes.

Then he raised a brow. "You better swim home to me, Muriel Quinn. I don't aim to live my life without you."

"I will. I promise." She'd come too far to lose him now.

He leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

Her eyes slid closed for just a heartbeat. "I love ye, too," she whispered. Then she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. "Come on."

Zane led Muriel to the carriage house and found the family carriage already hitched and ready to go. He sent a prayer of thanks heavenward, but it was cut short by the groom who protested when Zane handed Muriel into the equipage.

"Sorry, sir. Your father asked me to ready the carriage and drive him to the lodge. I expect him any minute. I can hitch up the grays to the other buggy, though, so you can drive your lady home."

Zane shook his head. "There's no time for that. A boy's life is in danger." He finished handing Muriel into the carriage then closed the door. "I need you to stay with Miss Quinn. Drive her wherever she asks to go, no matter how unconventional the request might seem. It's imperative, Eddie. Please."

The young groom shifted from foot to foot. "But Mr. Zane, your daddy pays my salary. I can't just ignore his orders."