Fire Dragon's Angel

by Barbara Blythe

  “I’m so sorry to intrude, Master Latimer, but you and Mistress Ceressa have a caller.”

  “Who?”

  Mrs. Arston twisted her hands indicating her nervousness.

  “It’s the governor’s aide, sir. Master Willshire.”

  ****

  Just when Ceressa had dared to believe things were about to change for her and Latimer, Torrence Willshire had to rear his ugly head. Actually, his head was anything but ugly, she thought unhappily as she and an extremely annoyed Latimer entered the salon not so many hours ago occupied by Phyllis and Bartholomew. It seemed that an eternity had passed since she and Phyllis had departed the house to view the roses created for the English royal garden. Torrence stood at a window, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned at hearing their approach and gave her a charming smile. Someone drew a sharp breath, and to her horror, she realized it was she.

  Willshire had transformed since their last meeting—had that been only yesterday morning? Gone was the unnecessary wig, his own dark brown hair tied neatly back in a queue. He’d discarded his brocade and silk attire in favor of garments suitable for hard riding, which he appeared to have done quite a bit of given the amount of dust on his person. A leather pouch was slung over his shoulder. Though she found this version of Torrence Willshire practically likable, her heart belonged to the man behind her whom, she intuitively sensed, was scowling.

  “To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” Ceressa cringed at the bite in Latimer’s tone.

  “I’ve a message from Sir William.” Torrence approached while opening his pouch, withdrawing a letter bearing a red seal. He handed it to Latimer although his twinkling gaze rested upon her. If Torrence wasn’t careful, Latimer would realize they shared a secret. And though she knew it was wrong to keep a secret from her husband, it wasn’t one she was prepared to divulge—not yet.

  Latimer broke the seal and opened the missive. There was an unmistakable twitch in his jaw as he read.

  “May I say, Lady Kirkleigh, that you look extraordinarily beautiful? How fare you today?”

  Ceressa glanced worriedly at Latimer, but he seemed oblivious to anything beyond the letter he held. “There was a bit of excitement earlier.”

  “What sort of excitement?”

  “Phyllis Carruthers and her father paid us a visit.”

  Torrence’s eyes darkened at the mention of Phyllis, a flicker of pain radiating from the pale green depths.

  “Phyllis and I were walking along an old Indian path to the river and were subjected to unwanted attentions from two of Nathaniel Bacon’s men.”

  “What?” Torrence’s outburst caused Latimer to look up from his reading. “Was Phyllis—I mean were either of you hurt?” There was no mistaking Torrence possessed more than a passing interest in Bartholomew’s daughter.

  She sadly suspected the woman would lead him a merry chase, given her selfish and childish behavior. Ceressa feared only a miracle would change Phyllis. But who knew what the Lord had planned for Bartholomew’s daughter.

  “They were unharmed,” Latimer said as he folded the letter from Sir William. “And the men apprehended. Does Sir William expect a reply?”

  Ceressa wanted so badly to ask what the governor had written but knew now was not the time to do so.

  “No. He simply wanted you to know how displeased he was by your desertion.”

  “He has no right to be angry. I offered my opinion, and my services and he refused both.”

  “Some would call you a coward.”

  Ceressa knew that Torrence was intentionally goading Latimer.

  “Only an uninformed dupe.”

  “What if I were to call you coward?”

  “I don’t believe you would.”

  The two men had moved so that they were nose to nose, Latimer a trifle taller than Torrence. When Torrence rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, Ceressa knew it was time to intervene.

  “Mr. Willshire, I’m certain you could do with a hot meal and something cold to drink before you continue your travels. Why don’t I take you to the kitchen? Our cook can give you something to eat and even pack a few things for you to take on your return journey. Where are you headed next?” She took hold of his arm and pulled him from the salon. By the time she pushed him outside, he was laughing.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in a low, threatening whisper as she strode angrily toward the kitchen.

  Torrence had no trouble keeping up with her. “I am wounded by your words. To think how I risked my neck to get your precious letter on board the Dutiful Lady.”

  “So you did manage to send it.” Relief swept her, and she could have cried for joy.

  Her momentary elation vanished when Torrence laughed again. “I had hoped you pulled me out of the house because you’d suffered a change of heart since our parting—was it only yesterday? But, yes, your letter is on its way to London.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so very much.”

  “My pleasure—I think. You didn’t really believe all that coward talk was serious? I simply enjoy riling Latimer.”

  “Do you know what, Torrence Willshire?” Ceressa halted her mad dash to the kitchen and turned to face him. “I think the two of you are acting like little boys who both want the same toy, but only one can have it.”

  “And you would be the toy?” There was that gleam in his eyes again.

  “No. The toy I’m referring to would be superiority. You have both wasted so many years trying to outdo one another, and neither of you have accomplished anything. I’ll tell you what I told Latimer—it’s time to move forward and leave the past behind. Now, go on to the kitchen and tell Cassie, the cook, that I asked that you be fed. And if you’re nice to her, she may give you a molasses cookie or two. She was baking them this morning.” She resumed her walk but was now heading back toward the house. Stopping once more, she looked over her shoulder at Torrence, who still regarded her with speechless amazement. “How did you cross the James?”

  He gave her one of his insouciant grins. “Every man has his price. Even Bacon’s rebels. My ultimate destination is the port in Norfolk. I have dispatches that Sir William was afraid to entrust to the captain of the Dutiful Lady.”

  “May the Lord keep you safe,” she said softly then turned again. This time, she hoisted her skirts and petticoats and ran the remaining distance back to the house.

  She found Latimer in his library, idly turning the globe. The room was nearly dark for the sun had set and summer twilight provided only a modicum of light. He looked up at her approach.

  “Mr. Willshire will be leaving shortly. He’s bound for the port in Norfolk. What did Sir William’s letter say?”

  “He expressed his disappointment in me and warned me that I would feel the wrath of his disfavor. Reminded me of that last conversation I had with my father—the one you overheard. Seems I’m always disappointing someone. Including myself.”

  “You have no reason to feel that way. You know, I don’t believe Mr. Willshire dislikes you as much as you believe he does. I think he enjoys baiting you.”

  “Ah, is that what he’s doing?” Latimer’s sarcasm charged the air, and Ceressa pressed her lips together. “Baiting me. Yes, that makes perfect sense.”

  “Latimer, you’ll never be free of this burden; this pain you carry.”

  “Willshire lied.” His words were a fiery pike poking her conscience.

  “Perhaps he’s sorry; perhaps he knows he was wrong?”

  “I’m not sure he’s capable of regret. But I see he’s won you over.” There was a bitter note to Latimer’s words. The brief moments of rekindled passion they’d shared in her bedchamber were now but vaporous might-have-beens. But at least her letter was on its way. She’d have to hold on to the hope that promised during the endless days and nights.

  “I’ve come to realize there’s more to him than meets the eye. He keeps many things hidden as though he fears he’ll appear vulnerable. Sometimes I see that in you
.”

  “Ressa! Ressa!” came April’s commanding call. Ceressa hurried into the hall in time to see April running toward her, Libby and Mariette following the child. “They said bad men scared you. I couldn’t come see you. They made me and Sissy stay in the kitchen. Who was that man who came to get some food?”

  “A friend,” Ceressa said as she lifted the little girl in her arms. “A new friend.” But as she kissed April’s cheek, she wondered if, in the process of discovering Torrence Willshire’s better side, she’d brought out the worst in Latimer.

  Fire Dragon's Angel

  36

  Tidelands Plantation—September, 1676

  The most fearful happening in her life had been the night she’d been lured to Charles Herrington’s room at the Red Rose Inn, but as the hot September winds blew across Surry County, Ceressa realized that she was wrong. More fearful was the wondering and waiting and praying that Bacon and his rebel forces would give up before more people lost their lives. Fear was knowing that Latimer was deeply embroiled in the escalating conflict, exposing himself to serious danger. Such weighed heavily on her mind on this morning as she worked in the rose garden, thankful for the activity and gaining some measure of peace weeding and pruning.

  Kate worked alongside her but, as always, was far too eager to chat about the current affairs of the colony. Sometimes the servants knew more about what was going on than Ceressa, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Latimer confided in them rather than burden her with alarming news.

  “I still can’t believe Master Latimer defied Bacon’s order to appear at the assembly last month,” Kate said, plucking off the dead blooms on a spectacular coral rose bush. Ceressa remained focused on the weeds surrounding a small but lovely pink specimen. “Everyone else was scared not to go. I suppose Master Latimer knew Bacon was up to something when he told all those men he wanted to talk about the Indians and discuss plans to bring peace to the colony. That Bacon couldn’t fool his lordship; but, o’ course, that rascal has it in for him now because he didn’t show. It’s just as well he didn’t—knowing Master Latimer, he’d have died before signin’ that oath for Nathaniel Bacon.”

  “Kate,” Ceressa said sharply as she sat back on her heels, brushing the perspiration from her nose with the back of her gloved hand. Why did it seem so unbearably hot—why did she spend every night tossing and turning restlessly? Why did she spend every waking hour worried about Latimer? Latimer was courting disaster with his unabashed condemnation of Nathaniel Bacon. “I’m sorry. Could we talk about something else today?”

  “I understand, Mistress Ceressa. I didn’t mean to upset you. But to think o’ what that Bacon made those other men do—why, Master Latimer says it’s nearly treason.”

  Ceressa drew a hot, stifling breath, fighting back the fear she knew she should turn over to God. “Kate, why don’t we stop for today? We can work a bit more tomorrow morning before it gets too hot. I promised April and Sissy I’d read to them since I’m not holding class today.” In fact, she’d held no classes for nearly a week, the sweltering temperatures making it impossible for the children to concentrate. It seemed that the best place for the children was beneath a tree sipping something cool or playing in the river. A swim didn’t sound so bad to Ceressa, and she wondered if the girls would like to have a dip.

  “You’re a wonder with the little ones, Mistress Ceressa,” Kate praised as she stood and wiped her soiled hands on her old apron. “Master Latimer found himself a rare gem indeed when he married you.”

  Standing, Ceressa placed her hand at the small of her back and stretched while removing the wide brimmed straw hat Libby had woven for her to keep the sun off her face.

  “I overheard Bengie telling Master Latimer that Bacon captured armed ships in the James and now has a navy at his command. I don’t think anyone, short of the King and his troops, can stop him now. If he and his men move to this side of the river, Master Latimer would be in terrible trouble. And then there are the Indians still causing all manner of problems. Mrs. Mainwaring’s brother who lives over Gloucester way was forced from his home when the Indians attacked. He barely made it away with his wife and five little ones while the Indians were murderin’ and burnin’ all around.”

  “Kate, I believe Mrs. Arston is looking for you. Willett burned his hand, and she’s in need of that salve you use.” Ceressa nearly cried out in relief at the sound of Latimer’s voice. As she turned to look at him, his eyes told her he’d overheard the conversation.

  “Why, yes, sir, I’ll go right away.” Kate bobbed a quick curtsy then hurried off.

  Ceressa sighed with relief, but it was short-lived when she realized Latimer scowled. Even so, she found herself staring, still marveling at the change in his appearance without the beard and with shorter hair. Handsome was an understatement.

  “You decide it’s too hot for the children to attend school, but you swelter out here in the heat.”

  “I noticed that the weeds were overtaking the roses. Besides, I need to keep busy. Otherwise, I’ll spend all my time worrying that Bacon is going to punish you for not supporting him.”

  “Bartholomew is spreading a lot of nonsense.”

  “He’s telling the truth, Latimer. It’s whispered at church and at muster and among the servants. I have eyes and ears. I know Bacon and his followers are fanatics. It’s well known how men flocked to him when he marched back to James Cittie. He sits this very minute in the governor’s home ready to kill anyone who opposes him.”

  “Ceressa, word has it that Berkeley is going to retake the ships Bacon’s men confiscated. He’s also assembling a large force to enter James Cittie. Even though Sir William and I are at odds, I will join him because I refuse to remain idle and allow Bacon to further terrorize this colony.”

  “If you return to James Cittie, Bacon will kill you.”

  “He has to catch me first.”

  “You think this is a joke? Fine—go to James Cittie and fight your war with Bacon.”

  The teasing light in Latimer’s eyes evaporated, replaced by anger. His look only reminded her that they still slept in separate rooms, and the chasm between them widened daily. More and more her thoughts turned to England and Sir Geoffrey. If she ever received word from him, she might be able to decide on a course of action. Though she still loved Latimer, she couldn’t indefinitely remain a wife in name only. Too many times she found herself dreaming of his kiss and yearning for his touch. And since the day Phyllis had lured her into the woods and Torrence had delivered the letter from Sir William, Latimer had done nothing to bridge the distance.

  He turned abruptly and walked away. Ceressa struggled with the temptation to call out to him. But she remained silent, aware that anything she said would probably lead to an argument. And she was too hot to argue. Instead, she’d seek out April and Sissy, read to them that story of the cinder girl that so fascinated them. Then they’d take that dip in the river.

  Fire Dragon's Angel

  37

  It was Cephas Marlington, newly liberated from James Cittie, who brought the news to Tidelands that Sir William had seized the ships Bacon’s men had commandeered and retaken the town. As Tidelands’s residents gathered around the man, who looked tired yet relieved, Marlington assured them that the governor’s actions had sent Bacon’s forces scurrying for their lives. Ceressa insisted the man rest for a bit and led him to the kitchen where Cassie quickly put out ham, corn pudding, biscuits, and apple cobbler for Marlington’s consumption. While he ate, he answered Latimer and Bengie’s questions, exuding confidence that the royalist order would be restored and the rebellion ended.

  Ceressa noticed that Latimer and Bengie exchanged looks, so after Marlington left to take the news on to Carrumont, she wasn’t at all surprised when Latimer asked her to walk with him in the rose garden. As they strolled among the blooms, the scent of them heady and intoxicating, a deep sadness invaded Ceressa’s heart. She knew what Latimer intended before he even opened his mouth.


  “Bengie and I are going to leave for James Cittie at dawn. The men are prepared to defend Tidelands if it should come to that. But I am as certain as Marlington that things will finally be put to rights.”

  Ceressa nodded even though she wasn’t so sure. “He seems most convinced. But please be careful.”

  “And I instruct you to do the same. No heroics, no battling men twice your size, no wandering off, no following me.” Her gaze met his at those words. Did he ever think about what had transpired between them when she’d followed him to Bocatakum’s village? As though he knew her thoughts, he reached out and cupped her chin, drawing her to him. “When this is over, I’d like to start anew.”

  “You have to come back first.”

  “I plan to.” He kissed her, but she quickly drew away.

  “Don’t promise me something beyond your power. I couldn’t bear to have my heart broken.”

  “That isn’t my intention.” His voice was strained, as though he wrestled with fierce emotions.

  “So you say.” Ceressa was being difficult, but it was impossible to forget the loneliness and uncertainty that had plagued her for months. “You haven’t appeared overly worried about the state of my heart since our departure from London.”

  “I did what I thought was best.”

  “Well, it wasn’t.” Fearful that she would dissolve into tears, she hurried away, directing her steps toward the house.

  She saw no more of Latimer that evening, but she was up and looking from her window when Bengie and he rode off, a sliver of sun just peeking between the towering trees. There was a knock on her door, and then Mariette poked her head in. Ceressa motioned for her to join her.