Page 75 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
Frannie nodded, and Andrew sprinted toward the cliff path. Finally free of the obligation to assure others of that which he did not believe, he was able to succumb to the fear that gripped him when he’d first seen Etty swimming in the sea.
“Why?” he cried. “Dear God—why did it have to be her?”
As he approached the cliff top, he caught sight of three small forms on the beach below, by the water’s edge. Wails of despair echoed from below—three children in fear for their mothers’ lives. If for no other reason, he had to stem the tide of his own despair so he might give those poor children a sliver of hope.
He made his way down the path, stumbling halfway but picking himself up, ignoring the tear in his breeches. Then he sprinted across the beach, his feet sinking into the sand.
Florence Smith stood clutching her baby sister, little Gabriel clinging to her skirts, his mouth wide open in anOas he wailed into the air.
“V-vicar!” Florence cried. “My m-mama!”
“Where did you last see them?” Andrew asked.
She pointed out to sea. “In that direction.”
Andrew’s heart sank. Florence pointed toward the center of the current—a patch of dark water, clouded with churned-up sand that formed a break in the waves. Not even the strongest swimmer could have fought against it. But if there was the slightest chance they were still fighting for their lives, then he had to take it.
He unbuttoned his jacket and dropped it on the sand.
“Vicar, no!”
He turned at Mr. Gadd’s voice, to see the man stumbling toward him, Ralph in his wake.
“Papa!” Florence cried.
“What the bleedin’ hell have you been doin’, you foolish brat?” Ralph said.
“There’s enough of that, Smith,” Mr. Gadd said. “We need to find your wife.”
“The stupid slut will ’ave drowned herself by now—leavin’ me with them two brats to feed,” Ralph growled. “What amIsupposed to do now?”
“Just what you’ve always done for them,” Andrew snapped. “Nothing.”
“Why you…” Ralph approached him, fists raised, but Jimmy Gadd interrupted him.
“Look! Pa, vicar—look over there!”
He was pointing out to sea, where an object bobbed in the water along the shoreline.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Nothin’ but flotsam, son,” Mr. Gadd said.
The object moved, splitting into two, then Andrew caught the white flash of an arm.
“Etty!” he called, sprinting along the beach. “Over here!”
He reached the water line and splashed into the sea, the waves rippling around his feet. Then she rose from the water, a sea goddess, her mouth set in a determined line as she clung to Loveday’s limp form.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” she said. “We’re safe now.”
“Ma’am?” Loveday’s eyes fluttered open.
“Hush,” Etty said. “You need to rest.”
She stumbled forward, and Andrew rushed toward her, breaking her fall and drawing her into his arms.
“Etty!” he cried. “Oh, Etty—you have no idea how relieved I am to see—”
