Love Thine Enemy. Louise M. Gouge

and by the time Rachel had assembled and packaged all of Mr. Moberly’s purchases, they seemed to be lifelong friends. The gentleman paid Papa, bowed to her and afterward left the store.

      “Don’t that beat all?” Papa crossed his arms and watched Mr. Moberly leave. “Looks like the path is smooth before us.”

      “To be sure.” Jamie sent a glance Rachel’s way. “With Moberly’s letters, we’ll have access to the best products London can offer.”

      “Indeed we will.” Papa moved behind the counter and pulled out a logbook. “Now let’s take a look at those figures.”

      The two men hovered over the book and continued their discussion of Jamie’s imminent voyage. To Rachel’s annoyance, they never once mentioned the dissident agitator.

      She wished they would include her in their consultations, but most often, they shooed her away. Her heart torn between wanting Mr. Moberly to come back and longing to go find the patriot right away, she returned to her corner. Inez was stitching the last inches of lace to the gown’s neckline, and Rachel resumed her own work. With their shoulders almost touching, Rachel felt Inez shake and looked over to see the older woman working to hide her mirth.

      “Shh. What is it?” Rachel glanced toward Papa. As kindhearted as he was, he had no patience with chatty or giggling servants.

      Inez leaned toward her and whispered, “Señorita, I think we both make mistake.”

      “Oh?”

      “Sí. My mistake is thinking the physician is for you. No, no. It is el patrón who admires my mistress, and more than a little.”

      “What nonsense. Mr. Moberly is an English aristocrat. He would never consider…admiring me.” Rachel sniffed at the thought of it. “Furthermore, as I said before, I would never receive the attentions of an Englishman.”

      “Mmm—mmm.” Inez hummed softly. “From the happiness I see in your eyes, mistress, you have receive them whether you wish it or not.”

      Rachel forced herself to frown. “What nonsense.”

      But if the notion were truly nonsense, why had her face felt hot the entire time the gentleman spoke to her? Why had she felt keen disappointment when Papa and Jamie entered the store? And why did her heart now pound as if trying to leap from her chest?

      Nonsense. Utter nonsense.

      While Mrs. Winthrop prepared a list of household needs, Frederick carefully penned the letter to Father recommending Captain James Templeton as a worthy business associate. While he had nothing to lose after Father’s last correspondence, he did not wish to further anger him. Despite a bit of rusticity, Templeton had an air about him that Father should admire, as one might esteem a capable horse handler or even a household steward. The captain possessed clear eyes that seemed to hold no hidden motives, unlike Oliver, who had always been a bit sly.

      How ironic that Frederick had never noticed Oliver’s wiliness. Yet since he had read Father’s revealing letter, Frederick began to recall many instances where his innocent antics had brought unwarranted censure. But only when Oliver was involved.

      Perhaps he was mad to entrust to Templeton the rebuilding of his own reputation with Father. But at this point, the captain’s good reference was all he had.

      Templeton arrived midafternoon. Frederick met him in the drawing room and welcomed him like a brother.

      “You’ve a fine house, sir.” The captain surveyed the room with interest, but no envy clouded his tone or expression. “I’ve often thought to build a house, but the sea’s been my home since boyhood. I don’t know if I could abide solid ground beneath me for too long.”

      “You may have the sea, sir. I gladly welcomed the feel of that solid ground after my stormy voyage across the Atlantic to East Florida.”

      They both chuckled, but before Templeton could offer a rejoinder, Oliver sauntered into the room. Frederick reluctantly made introductions.

      “Well, captain,” Oliver said, “what brings you to our humble home?”

      Templeton’s eyes narrowed for an instant, but he seemed to purposefully brighten his expression. “Just a bit of private business with Mr. Moberly.”

      Frederick withheld a laugh. His new friend was no fool. How quickly he had seen through Oliver’s facade.

      “Then let us adjourn to my study.” Frederick enjoyed the dark look on Oliver’s face. “You will excuse us, Oliver.”

      “Of course.” Oliver’s terse tone came through clenched teeth.

      Once in the study with the door closed, Templeton stared at Frederick, an earnest look in his eyes. “Moberly, you don’t know me well, but let me advise you not to trust Corwin.” He gave his head a quick shake. “Something about him—”

      “Yes, I agree.” To think this man had seen it in less than five minutes. Perhaps as first mate to Captain Folger and now a captain himself, he had honed his skills in human understanding, whereas Frederick had taken a place of leadership only a few short years ago. He still had much to learn.

      He sat at his desk, retrieved his letters and lists, and checked them once more to be sure all was in order before applying his seal. “Thank you for taking these to my family. I hope the introduction will serve us both well.”

      “I’m honored that you trust me.” Seated opposite him, Templeton took them in hand, all the while appearing to search for words. “I sense you are a trustworthy man, too, Moberly, and therefore I must address a subject of some concern.”

      Frederick swallowed hard. He wanted to be open with this man, but he was so used to posing to achieve advantage that he hardly knew how to be genuine. Perhaps in that manner he had been playing the same game as Oliver. But at least he had never betrayed anyone.

      “Say on, friend.” He felt as if he had just unlocked his soul.

      Templeton’s brown eyes bored into his. “My cousin Rachel, Miss Folger, is like a sister to me. Captain Folger raised us together, and I couldn’t love a sister by birth any more than I love her.” He studied the letters in his hand, yet seemed not to see them. Again, he stared at Frederick. “If harm of any sort should come to her, whether to her person or to her heart, I’d have to require it of the man responsible for her grief.”

      Frederick’s lower jaw fell slack, and he closed it as casually as possible while overcoming his shock. “I find Miss Folger to be a remarkable young lady, one whom I admire far too much to grieve in any way.” He offered a half smile. “You may count on me in your absence to require it of anyone who might think to harm her.”

      Templeton’s gaze softened. “I believe you.”

      An unfamiliar sense of comradeship filled Frederick’s chest. Before he could speak his gratitude, Templeton added, “I hope Lord Bennington knows what an extraordinary job you’ve done in developing St. Johns Settlement. If he doesn’t know it now, he will after I’ve finished talking with him.”

      Again warmth filled Frederick almost to bursting. “I am grateful, captain, more than you can know.”

      They stood, shook hands, and then proceeded to the front of the house. After another handshake, Templeton set his hand on Frederick’s shoulder.

      “Please know that the Almighty will be receiving my frequent petitions on your behalf.”

      Frederick coughed away the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. “And I shall pray for you, as well.” An onlooker might think them lifelong friends. “God speed you on your way.”

      He stood on the porch and watched Templeton ride away on a lop-eared mule. The chap did not ride any better than Frederick kept his footing on a ship. But their new friendship soothed away some of the ache left by Oliver’s betrayal.

      As if conjured by his thoughts, Oliver appeared beside him on the porch.