His silence had her looking back up. The disappointment in his eyes made her own heart feel shriveled and rotted to the core.
“I wish I could stay then,” he said. “I would stay. For you.”
She felt the meaning, understood the sacrifice he’d be willing to make...just to be with her. “You barely know me.”
“But I should like to know you,” he said softly, his smile bittersweet with longing. “I should like that more than anything.”
So should I.
She swallowed the words. What use would it be to give false hope...to either of them. “But you will not stay,” she said.
He shook his head. “I would if I could, but too many lives would be in jeopardy if I were discovered.”
Her lips twitched with the urge to ask more questions. What was this secret history of his that could not be revealed?
But it was not her place to ask. Not if she was standing here rejecting his offer. She took a step back.
And that was what she was doing. She braced herself against the flood of emotions she would surely endure. Those could be dealt with at another time, on another day.
After he was gone.
She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, clasping her hands together to keep from doing something outrageously silly like reaching out for him. “I will do as you ask at the ball,” she said. “Tomorrow I will give you a list of all the men who have joined my father’s small battalion here at the fort in recent years, and I will make sure that word has spread that the treasure will be unguarded, because I want to ensure that my town and my family are safe.” She moved toward the entrance to the cave. “But that is where our friendship ends, Mr. Haversaw. If all goes well, you will have your smuggler and the information you’re after tomorrow night, and I will have peace of mind for my family’s safety.”
He tipped his head down in acknowledgement and let her go without argument. Without a word at all.
His silence seemed to say too much.
She had to gasp for air as she picked her way over the stones toward the cliffside. Her chest felt so tight, she thought she might faint.
But she didn’t, and she wouldn’t. She looked up at the cliffside before quickening her pace, never once looking back.
She did not look back and he did not call out after her.
She truly ought to have been glad for that—that the only sound that followed her was the ocean breeze.
She might have told herself that she was happy he’d let her go. Happy that she’d walked away. She might have even convinced herself if she’d been any good at lying.
Just like she might have fooled herself into thinking that the salty tears trickling down her cheeks was just some mist from the sea.
Chapter 9
Minerva’s father was so preoccupied with the visiting gentry the following day that he did not notice that Minerva had disappeared to the cave to once more meet Marcus and fill him in on the officers and the townsfolk. This meeting was short and chaperoned by Caleb, who was not the most proper of chaperones, to be certain, but his presence served its purpose.
Their conversation remained strictly business. There were no stolen kisses and no talk of running off together, sailing into the sunset on some whim.
Which was good, Minerva reminded herself as she trekked back to her home. It was for the best.
Her heart did not necessarily believe the admonition, but her heart had no say in the matter.
Minerva’s father was not yet home when she returned, so it only meant one interrogation to endure.
“But what did he want?” Abigail asked from where she’d positioned herself on the bed.
For me to run away with him.
Minerva tugged on her gloves. No, she would not tell even Abigail about that, even if her other three sisters weren’t listening in on every word.
“You have to tell us,” Hattie said, her blue eyes big and filled with excitement. Hattie and Abigail had inherited their father’s coloring with their ivory skin, fair hair, and wide blue eyes. The youngest of the five, Hattie had turned sixteen this past summer and was already turning out to be a beauty.
One of these days, she’d be more in demand at the dances than even Rebecca. Or, at least, she would if she ever overcame her shyness.
Minerva went over to her and started to pin up her blonde curls while Rebecca did the same to her own hair in the mirror beside Hattie.
Rebecca, Hattie, and Sally had used their free hours that afternoon to finish decorating and making arrangements for the ball; while they knew Minerva had gone off to meet with their father’s old friend—twice now—they now also knew he was no old friend at all.
“I cannot believe you did not tell us earlier about your fright the other night,” Sally said. She was perched on the bed beside Abigail. Not one to be overly concerned with appearances, she had donned her nicest gown and pulled her hair back into a neat chignon and left it at that.
Sally was far more interested in talk of pirates, as Minerva had suspected she would be, which was why she hadn’t mentioned it to her earlier. She’d brought Abigail with her to the tavern for this reason as well. Abigail trusted her implicitly and never pestered her for answers.
As the two closest in age and having shared the same room since they were babes, Abigail knew full well that Minerva would tell her everything when she was good and ready.
Sally did not share her patience.
“Who was he after?” Sally asked, leaning forward on her elbows. “And what did he want with you?”
Minerva sighed. “You can rest easy, Sally. My honor has not been slighted, and you do not
