Page 38 of A Zephyr Rising
He’d given her the wrong date.
“I’m so sorry, Mr.Peterson.My brother left an hour ago—where is it he’s supposed to be getting John Martin from?Perhaps I can meet him there and see if there’s been a hiccup.”She motioned to Giles to get her paper and a pen, which he supplied immediately.
David rattled off an address.“But it’s not likely it’ll do you any good to go there.Stephen delivered the paperwork to Henry himself.Without it, he won’t be able to get out of the internment camp.”
She didn’t believe for one second Stephen had given Henry the paperwork.Henry would have said something.
Ginger stared at the address.It was in the city.“John is here in London?”
David’s voice crackled.“Yes, it’s a former factory of some sort.It’s being used for the interned.But he must be here within the hour.”
Was it possible she could get him from the internment center herself?Even without the paperwork?
“Could you stall for any longer, Mr.Peterson?I hate to ask?—”
He released a guttural sigh.“Perhaps by a few minutes, but it isn’t likely.I’ll do my utmost.”
Ginger hung up the receiver and stared at the address she’d scrawled.The paper shook in her hands, a mixture of fury and fear running through her.
Of all the cold-hearted, horrible things for Stephen to do.He’d done it on purpose.Maybe revenge—or to teach her how much she “needed” him.
She rushed back to the sitting room in a daze.
Gran and Madeline stared at her expectantly, and then Gran tilted her head, clearly reading her distress.“Something tells me David Peterson was not the bearer of good news.”
“No, he’s—” Ginger rubbed her temple, a dull, brutal pain pulsing through the top of her head.A sudden headache.Or she just hadn’t noticed it before.She slackened her jaw, sure she’d been clenching it, and met her grandmother’s eyes.“He’s just informed me Stephen gave me the wrong date for John Martin’s naturalization.Henry was supposed to have him at Mr.Peterson’s office right now.”
Madeline and Gran exchanged a look.“And what does that mean?”Madeline asked, arching a brow.
“It means—” Ginger released a deep breath “—it means Stephen lied to me when I asked him about the details.I’d say it was a cruel joke, but he’ll probably claim to have been so broken-hearted by my refusal he simply mixed up the date.And if John Martin isn’t at the Home Secretary’s office within the hour, the opportunity will be gone.”
“But why?”Gran leaned forward.“Surely if they’ll naturalize him today, they can naturalize him some other day.”
Would they though?David Peterson had been quite firm about the deadline.
“Stephen arranged the whole matter—by using some of his father’s connections.I’m certain those connections won’t be at my disposal now.And even if they were, who’s to say Stephen won’t undo the arrangement to get his revenge with me?Mr.Peterson probably hasn’t heard I’ve refused Stephen yet—but he himself was doing me the favor under the impression he was doing a favor for Stephen’s fiancée.”Ginger crumpled the address into her fist, her hand shaking.
She paced, agitated and furious.“I must get John Martin out of the internment center myself.That’s all there is to it.”She whirled in a circle, then stormed from the room, heading for the stairwell.
A rush of footsteps sounded behind her.“What are you going to do?”Madeline asked.
Gran and Madeline had followed and were mere steps away.Their concern was evident—and something more ...Are they willing to help?
Ginger started up the stairs.“I don’t know.I’ll think of something along the way.”
Gran’s voice grew louder.“I always say, if you can’t win fairly...cheat.”Ginger stopped and looked back.Gran gave her a stern look.
Ginger unwrinkled the paper.John Martin wasn’t terribly far.She’d need a car—and a reason to get him out of the internment camp.But she doubted she could simply go to the camp and demand they release him.
He needed a reason to leave.
She stomped her foot.“This is why I need to learn to do something useful with my life.Everyone can guffaw all they want about my wish to be a nurse, but when situations like this arrive, it would be nice to be capable of more than nothing.”She stopped short, her chin jerking upright.
“Ah, look, Mama, it seems our darling Ginger has had an idea.”Madeline’s green gaze gleamed.
“She has.”Gran marched closer.“Out with it.”
“Do you think—” Ginger came back down the stairs toward them.“Would they allow John Martin out of the internment center for a medical reason?If a doctor, for example, were to say he was transferring him for treatment to the hospital?”
