Love Finds You in Mackinac Island, Michigan (13 page)

She glanced over his shoulder, searching the room. Had her parents arrived yet? Her mother would be most pleased that she’d already received a proper introduction to Mr. Darrington. Once her mother saw that Elena had made his acquaintance, she would dance again with Parker.

Mr. Darrington asked questions about her and her family, but the more he probed, the more her sense of comfort faded. Even though they stood in the midst of several hundred people, she felt as if she might need to run. The way he looked at her made her cringe, licking his bottom lip as if he were hungry.

She wanted him to find her attractive, for her parents’ sake, but she didn’t like the feeling that she was an item to be chosen from a menu. No matter how hungry the man was.

Parker slid to her side, clutching a glass of red punch. “I’m sorry it took so long. I—”

His sentence dropped off as he eyed Mr. Darrington standing next to her.

“Parker Randolph,” she said, “I would like you to meet Mr. Edward Darrington.”

Instead of greeting Parker, Mr. Darrington appeared to be surprised at her words.

Had she been wrong to introduce the two men? Sometimes it was difficult to know who was avoiding who, like her mother and Mrs. Randolph. Mr. Darrington cleared his throat.

“My friends call me Edward,” he finally replied, speaking more to her than to Parker.

Parker held out the punch glass for her. “Edward and I picnicked together yesterday.”

“Picnicked?”

Parker nodded. “Over on Bois Blanc. It was only a small group of us. Edward and his brother-in-law and his w—”

Edward interrupted him. “Would you like to dance?”

“No, thank you,” Parker quipped. “My feet are killing me.”

Elena almost laughed at the surprise on Edward’s face.

His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

Over Parker’s shoulder, Elena met the eyes of Edward’s beautiful sister, but Sarah Powell wasn’t smiling. In fact, it looked like she’d swallowed a cherry pit.

Elena looked back at Edward.

Parker took the punch glass from her hand before she took a sip. “Elena and I were about to dance.”

Worry creased her forehead as she glanced back and forth between them. Either Parker was jealous, or he thought there was something wrong with Mr. Darrington.

Edward reached for her hand. “Surely you can spare her for one waltz.”

She looked down at her glove encompassed firmly in Edward’s fingers, and the urge to run overwhelmed her. No matter what her mother said, no matter how badly her father’s business was faring, she didn’t think she could marry this man.

“I was actually on my way to the powder room,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. Though she refused to wince, her fingers actually hurt in Edward’s grasp. She couldn’t imagine being married to a man who treated her like a possession instead of a person. Someone who demanded she succumb to him instead of respecting her will and intellect.

“I will take the next dance, then,” he insisted.

Sarah Powell glided up beside her, her golden dress trailing down her slender figure. Elena smiled at her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were on Edward instead. “Dancing is a fine idea.”

“I was just telling your brother—” Elena started.

Sarah looked at her, and Elena saw anger in her eyes. “Who are you?”

“I’m Elena Bissette.” She shook her hand from Edward’s grasp and held it out for Sarah. The woman just looked at it.

“You’re the woman who fell on the pier.”

She sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“My name is Mrs. Sarah Powell.” She nodded at the man beside her. “Edward’s wife.”

“Wife?” Her voice squeaked the word even as her mind spun. How could this man be married? The married men were usually cordial, but they would never clutch her hand, not like Edward had, nor devour her with their gazes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” She looked at Edward, but he didn’t seem embarrassed in the least. Parker, on the other hand, was studying his glass quite intently.

Sarah took her husband’s arm and pulled him away, as if Elena had been trying to entrap him. With a sickening feeling, Elena realized that was exactly what she had been trying to do. But she hadn’t realized she was trying to trap the wrong person.

She cringed again when Edward turned back to her, nodding his head. She looked away.

Parker set her glass on a tray filled with chinaware. “Do you still need to go to the powder room?”

She faced him, frustration burning inside her. “Why didn’t you tell me he was married?”

He shrugged. “I figured you knew.”

The way he said it, Elena wondered whether it was a pastime of Mr. Powell’s to attempt to charm unmarried women. Her mother was so concerned about the soldiers at the fort, but there were snakes living among them, as well. His poor wife.

“I most certainly did not know. If I had—” She took as deep a breath as she could muster. “You know I wouldn’t entertain a married man like that.”

Parker took her hand lightly and led her to the dance floor. As she whirled in his arms, she scanned the floor again.

If this Edward wasn’t the elusive Mr. Darrington—

Then where had Sarah Powell’s brother gone?

December 5, 1812

It’s been a month now and still you don’t return.

I want to leave the lighthouse. I want to look everywhere for you, but I can’t leave with Thomas and Molly.

If I lost one of them…dear God, I don’t know what I would do if I lost one of our children too.

Some nights I feel like I’m going crazy, not knowing where you went. In those terrible moments, when my mind goes wild, I imagine horrible things.

An animal attacking you.

A stranger coming to hurt you. Or a friend.

But there are no wild animals on Mackinac Island. Not even a poisonous snake.

And who would want to hurt you?

Did you fall someplace, in one of the island’s caves or crevices? Or did you drown in the lake?

But that makes no sense to me. You would never leave Molly to go down to the lake.

The wonderings tangle in my mind like a vine choking the life out of a tree.

Perhaps I have already gone crazy.

I keep thinking you will come back to me at any moment, but you do not.

The orchestra played at the other end of the long ballroom, partners whisking each other around the dance floor as if they were trapped in a whirlpool. Chase was in a corner of the ballroom talking with two businessmen from Chicago—a Mr. Lloyd Grunier and Mr. Arthur Bissette.

Mrs. Frederick had warned him about the intentions of Arthur’s daughter, but this man seemed to be a fine enough fellow. He never mentioned his daughter once in their conversation. Either Mrs. Frederick was exaggerating, or Arthur wasn’t trying to marry off his daughter as readily as Mrs. Frederick implied.

Either way, he enjoyed the conversation of both gentlemen. He’d only spent four days at the World’s Columbian Exposition last fall, but these men had spent weeks looking at all manner of inventions—electric drills, incandescent lights, elevators, a cotton gin, a new sweetener called saccharin, and more.

The number of innovations might have been overwhelming to some visitors, but it was exhilarating to him. His favorite during the Chicago visit was the movable sidewalk on the pier, but he had invested in more affordable items that the common household could use—the eggbeaters, washing machines, frying pans, and flour sifters that helped women and their servants to be more efficient with their work so they could enjoy other new inventions, like the phonograph or praxinoscope to watch moving pictures.

Mr. Bissette took his cigar out of his mouth, and the new smoke joined the cloud that hovered above them. “What are you considering right now?”

Chase smiled. “I’m never working on just one thing.”

Mr. Bissette glanced at Mr. Grunier. “I suppose we’ll have to hire a detective to find out.”

“You can try,” Chase joked, “but it would have to be a pretty good detective.”

Mr. Grunier’s jovial smile widened. “All we’re asking for is a bit of a preview.”

“Ahh, a hint.” Chase leaned closer. “I’ll tell you all about it…after the patent comes through.”

The men chuckled.

Mr. Grunier took a sip of wine. “Do you like our little island?”

“I’m enjoying—” he began, but what was he supposed to tell the man? He couldn’t tell him about the stars, nor could he tell him how amused he was with the island people. “I’ve enjoyed exploring it.”

Sarah stepped up beside Chase, nodding at the other men as she took his arm. “Aren’t you gentlemen going to dance with your wives?”

They shrugged, looking sheepish, but neither one of them moved. It seemed they were as anxious to dance as he was.

“Gracie has been asking about you,” Sarah whispered.

“Please tell her that I’m doing incredibly well this evening.”

“Just dance with her once, so she knows you’re still interested in courting her.”

He nodded at the men. “I’ll return in a moment.”

They smiled at him, part in understanding and part in pity.

He directed Sarah toward the door. “I’m not interested in courting her.”

“Her father is—”

He smiled. “An expert on all things related to the weather.”

“He is more than that.”

Chase brushed off his sleeves. “He spent our entire evening avoiding any sort of decent discussion.”

“Mr. Frederick was being polite for the women. Unlike other people—”

“Edward ruined his opportunity to do business with the man, and now he is trying flattery on the daughter.”

She crossed her arms. “You don’t know that.”

“All that discussion about a treed property that he’s never even seen… Mr. Frederick isn’t stupid.”

“The property is treed.”

“How do you know?”

Sarah didn’t answer the question.

He loved his sister, but he wouldn’t marry or even court a woman because of Edward’s business prospects. It hadn’t worked when Sarah married Edward, and it wouldn’t work if Chase married Gracie Frederick, either. It didn’t take a brilliant businessman to figure out that Edward was as dangerous as dynamite when it came to finances. Investments were blown to smithereens at his touch.

Sarah’s gaze trailed over his shoulder, and she fluttered her fingers at someone. He turned and groaned when he saw Gracie crossing the crowded room.

Sarah smiled pleasantly as the woman approached. “We were just talking about you.”

Feathers adorned Gracie’s hair, and her bodice dipped so low that he wondered for a moment where it ended. He struggled to keep his eyes on her face.

She smiled at him as if she was enjoying his battle to control his eyes. Sometimes he wondered what was wrong with women. They enjoyed tempting and teasing their male counterparts and then were angry when a man succumbed to appreciating the temptation.

She opened her fan and breezed it across her face. “I hope it was a good conversation.”

“Of course,” Sarah insisted.

A trumpet blasted behind him, followed by an assortment of instruments, and couples swarmed onto the floor to dance the polka.

Sarah leaned closer to Gracie. “Did I tell you that my brother loves to dance?”

Gracie tilted her head. “Your talents continue to amaze me, Mr. Darrington.”

He had no good choice but to hold out his arm. “It would be my pleasure.”

She took it, and he led her to the floor. His steps felt awkward, but he managed to avoid her toes.

“You are a fine dancer,” she said.

He shook his head. “Lying doesn’t become you, Miss Frederick.”

“I’m not lying.”

But they both knew that she was. It was everything he could to do to keep his arms up as he counted the beats in his head.

When the song ended, he gave a slight nod of his head. “And now I must bid you adieu.”

She clung to his arm. “Whatever for?”

“I have some business I must attend to.”

She tilted her head, smiling at him in a way that made him want to run.

“Business can always wait.”

He shook his head. “Tonight it is urgent. Business before pleasure, as they say.”

She released his arm. “Who would say something so ridiculous?”

“Good night, Miss Frederick,” he said, turning on his heel and marching straight toward the veranda. He didn’t check to see whether she was following, but when he stepped onto the patio, he was alone.

With the hotel’s electric lights behind him, he couldn’t tell if the clouds were gone this evening, but even if he couldn’t see the sky, he wanted to find the lighthouse. Tonight.

He slipped back into the hotel, taking a door into the lobby instead of the ballroom. Hurrying upstairs, he unlocked the safe and retrieved his satchel.

Henry was at the carriage house, and when he saw Chase’s satchel, he smiled. “You want me to take you back up to the fort?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight. But I wonder if you could take me someplace else.”

“Where’s that?”