A Pursuit of Home

by Kristi Ann Hunter

  One dark eyebrow rose and looked at Derek as if he was simpleminded. “Unless you have a better idea.”

  “There is a closer claim to the throne. A direct line from King Nicolas,” Jess called down as she slid the knife around the bowl a bit more, still working to dislodge it from its decades-old perch.

  He couldn’t watch her now. Derek looked back at the carriage. Could it be disabled quickly and quietly? He didn’t know anything about carriages. Well, not anything practical. This was an old carriage, with huge wheels and C springs. None of that would keep the carriage from moving.

  Wait. C springs. Derek slid one of Jess’s knives from the pouch. Would it work? He didn’t know, but it was the only idea he had that didn’t involve possible murder, so he was going with it.

  “I have an idea.”

  Both of Ryland’s eyebrows shot up now.

  Derek swallowed hard and slid a knife from the harness Jess had left with him. Even if his plan succeeded, he wasn’t willing to risk that Jess’s legs would be able to run. They’d been gripping that statue for a while. “Once she gets down, we’ll need to get away quickly. Can you get horses?”

  “I can get horses. Jeffreys is already preparing the carriage.” The duke paused. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “No,” Derek said. “But I think it’s better than killing him, don’t you? Traitor or not, he deserves a trial.”

  The duke nodded, but his face was grim. “We’ll try it your way. But if anything happens to Jess—”

  “It won’t.” Derek had to believe that, had to believe he’d be willing to do something to keep it from happening. “As a last resort, I’ll throw myself on Bradford. Should slow him down a bit.”

  Ryland shook his head and slipped away.

  Derek tried to ignore the continued taunting between Jess and Lord Bradford. He slipped out of the alcove, walking as quietly as possible across the square to the back of the carriage. Two thick leather straps held the body of the carriage to the springs. Would he even be able to cut through them? Only one way to find out.

  “Where is your other friend?” Lord Bradford asked. “The one who followed you about my house like a whipped puppy.”

  Derek nearly fumbled the knife, but he held tight to it and began dragging it across the leather. A fine line appeared, barely breaking the surface. He sliced faster.

  “He followed me until I climbed up here. He can’t stand the defacement of art, I’m afraid. Doesn’t have the constitution for it.”

  Derek grinned. She had to know how his stomach had turned when she made her first bang against the top of the statue. Cut, cut, cut. The knife was finally making progress, the weight of the carriage body helping to stretch the opening he was making. A few more swipes should do it.

  He stopped. What would happen then? Would the crash alert them that he was there? Would one strap keep the carriage from rolling?

  He turned his attention to the other strap. Best to get it nearly worked through as well. Then a couple quick cuts should have the entire back end dislodged.

  “Why does your cousin want to rule a country he’s never lived in?” Jess asked.

  Derek hacked at the second leather strap. How did she not have the bowl free yet? It had been completely uncovered long before he’d ducked behind the carriage.

  “We grew up with the stories of the glories of Verbonne. Then we had to watch from England as your grandfather and uncle threw away everything that had made our legacy great.”

  “One would think”—Jess gave a grunt—“that you would care more about the country you’ve been tasked with running instead of one under the care of your enemy during the war.”

  “My father left me a burden, but my mother gave me a legacy. Once my cousin is in power, I will be able to be a voice of unity between our nations. Verbonne will be a great ally for England, creating a solid port to the continent and opening new trade routes.”

  Derek used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. He certainly wasn’t cold now.

  “Thank you for freeing the bowl,” Lord Bradford said. “If you toss it down, I’ll be on my way, and you’ll be free to climb down at your leisure.”

  Derek’s time was up. Whether Ryland had located horses or not, Derek was going to have to grab Jess and get out of there.

  With all his strength he sliced at the leather. One strap pulled free, the sudden weight stretching the other so thin the slightest pressure of the knife started a tear, and in moments the back of the carriage went crashing onto the springs. Derek snatched up Jess’s jacket and knife harness, intending to round the carriage and see if Jess needed help.

  Shouts rose and a shot rang out before he’d managed to find his footing. Chaos exploded. People started leaning out their windows, lending their own shouts to the ruckus. Two horses burst from an alley to Derek’s right.

  “Nice job,” Ryland said, tossing Derek a set of reins. “Climb on.” Then he rode into the fray, presumably to rescue Jess.

  Derek wasn’t the best of horsemen, but he knew how to ride. He mounted and turned to find Ryland at the base of the statue, waving a pistol in the air as Jess wriggled down and fell across the back of the horse, a large bowl clasped in her arms.

  With a shout, Ryland kicked the horse. Derek followed, trusting his horse to follow Ryland’s as Derek used one hand to secure his spectacles and the other to try to find a place to tuck Jess’s jacket and harness. The jacket probably didn’t matter so much, but the knives likely did. He folded up the harness and shoved it in his jacket pocket, squeezing his horse with all the strength his knees possessed. At the moment, that wasn’t much. He felt two breaths away from fainting.

  As they charged through alleys and toward the edge of town, Derek kept his head down and prayed. He and God had been on good terms since Derek was a young man, sitting for long afternoons with the local priest as Derek examined all the different carvings and artworks in the church.

  Never had Derek had to trust Him like this, though. There was something so different about knowing danger existed, about even brushing against it, than there was about living through it.

  The horses slowed at an inn on the south edge of town. Derek’s legs wobbled as he slid to the ground, but the beaming grin on Jess’s face restored a bit of his strength.

  “We did it,” she cried, holding the bowl aloft. It was difficult to see in the pale moonlight, but the bowl appeared to be some sort of hammered metal, decorated with carvings on the outside and lined with jewels on the inside. Centered in the bottom was a large iridescent opal. The waterstone.

  “So we did,” he said quietly. He had just enough time to realize the full reality of it before she was there, hugging him with one arm, her tiny body pressed against his side while the bowl jutted into his stomach. He grunted but wrapped one arm around her shoulders to hold her there just a bit longer. His head lowered until his cheek pressed against her hair. The jumping of his insides calmed as he held her and breathed.

  A sleepy stable boy came out of the inn’s stables and collected the horses as a carriage rolled into the yard.

  Before it had stopped rocking on its wheels, the door flung open and Kit jumped out, looking a bit more than disheveled, a dress thrown on haphazardly over her night clothes.

  She walked straight up to Jess, ignoring Derek completely while she leaned in to hug Jess’s other side. “Thank goodness you’re safe.” Then she stood back, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared. “I can’t believe you let me sleep through the entire thing.”

  Jess pulled away from Derek but continued grinning. “It all went rather quickly. You didn’t miss much.”

  Didn’t miss much? Derek still thought fainting was a very real possibility. He’d never been as frightened as he’d been at the back of that carriage.

  “We really do need to get out of here before he manages to follow us,” Ryland said, clamping a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Nicely done, but if you’re going to faint, please climb into the carriage
first. Makes the entire process a bit easier.”

  Mouth dry, Derek nodded, dimly wondering if he should be offended by the duke’s statement, but without Jess’s warmth to distract him, he was a little too shaken to care.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  When Jess insisted on taking the boat on her own and no one else in the carriage protested, Derek’s resolve to go with her faltered. Was it the best thing for her? Was insisting on accompanying her for his benefit or hers? At some point he was going to have to believe her when she said she wanted to leave him behind. Since his part really was done now, those farewells might as well be on English soil.

  Maybe one day he would get to see France and Verbonne and the rest of the continent that had been unavailable to him because of the war, but that day wouldn’t be soon. When he finally managed it, he wouldn’t look for her. She’d likely be married by then anyway.

  The idea made the prospect of visiting the country a little less appealing. There were plenty of people who never left England, and he could go wherever he wanted in a painting.

  No, it was best to say good-bye to her here in . . . whatever town they were in. He’d bounced around the country so much in the past month that he’d lost all sense of bearing.

  His one regret was that here at the end they were surrounded by people. He missed the conversations they’d had when it was just the two of them in the carriage, sharing strange facts they knew and asking questions. He knew information from books, but Jess knew life. She’d explained things and saw things differently than anyone he’d ever met.

  He was going to miss her.

  That was an okay thing to admit. It was natural to miss people who changed your life in some way. Missing her didn’t have to mean he wished she’d stayed. He could miss her and still be happy for where life took her.

  He could.

  Jeffreys drove the carriage straight out onto the dock just as the sun was peeking over the horizon.

  “They’re still here,” Ryland said as he threw open the door. “I’ve been having multiple port schedules sent to me for weeks. I was hoping you’d make this one.” Then he jumped out while the carriage was still rocking.

  “Oy there!” a sailor yelled at him as Ryland walked aboard the boat. “We was just taking in the gangplank. We’re pushing off.”

  “I’m the Duke of Marshington,” Ryland announced in a clear, authoritative voice that rang down to the dock below and likely across the ship deck. “Where is your captain?”

  A man with better clothes and grooming approached Ryland.

  “Oh good,” Jess said as the rest of them scrambled out of the carriage and Jeffreys handed down Jess’s valise and the blanketed bundle containing the bowl. “That’s Captain O’Henry. He ferried me more than once during the war.”

  “You’ll have safe travels, then,” Derek said. He should hug her or shake her hand. Neither would be appropriate, though, and kissing her hand seemed even more ridiculous. Tipping his hat might work but his hand only encountered his overlong hair. Simply saying good-bye didn’t seem enough.

  Ryland strode down the gangplank. “Up you come, Jess. He’s got to set off.”

  “Right.” Jess looked at Derek, her expression unsure and hesitant. “This is it, then.”

  Derek tried to say good-bye, but his mouth was too dry. He just looked at her.

  “Good-bye,” Kit said jauntily, sliding up next to him. “Or farewell, if you’d rather. You two seem to be having difficulty saying it, so I thought I’d help.”

  “Right,” Jess said again, but she turned and without a word strode up the gangplank, while a sailor came down to do whatever sailors did to prepare a boat to leave.

  She was really leaving. Right now. He’d thought they’d have more time.

  “She thinks no one should love her,” Kit said, sounding matter-of-fact when the words she’d just said should have been anything but.

  “What?” Derek asked.

  Before Kit could answer, Ryland came up to Derek’s other side, pulling out a book Derek knew well. “Think she’ll need this?”

  The diary. Did she need it?

  “I . . .” Derek looked from the book to the ship and then to Kit. “What?”

  “Better run it up to her, just in case.”

  “Right.” Because somehow Derek would know how to say good-bye at the top of the gangplank instead of the bottom. And what was he supposed to do about what Kit had just told him?

  Ryland shoved the book into his hands and gave him a nudge. Derek shot up the gangplank. He didn’t want her last memory of him to be of him gaping at her, unable to say anything. He couldn’t have her walking away thinking she was unlovable.

  He almost lost his balance as his feet hit the boat deck and his world rocked a bit. He looked around to find her. She’d moved fast once she’d gotten up here. She was nearly halfway across the ship deck.

  “Jess,” he called. “The diary.”

  A scraping noise sounded behind him as he ran to hand her the book.

  “Derek,” she gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “The diary. Ryland thought it best you have it, so I brought it to you.” Derek swallowed. “And I couldn’t let you leave without saying good-bye.”

  Jess took the diary with a groan as she dropped her head forward. With a sigh she lifted it again, her face expressionless. “Save your good-bye. Apparently you’re coming to Verbonne.”

  She pointed behind Derek. He turned to see that the path back to shore was no longer there, and the ship was starting to rock a bit more as she prepared to set sail.

  The sailor from the gangway ran up to Derek with a valise in hand. “His Grace said you forgot this.”

  Derek took his luggage without a word. He’d been had, but he couldn’t be mad about it. He was getting to go to Verbonne, getting to spend more time with Jess, getting to support her as she returned home when she thought she never would. Getting to have a conversation about what Kit had revealed.

  It was something he never would have had the courage to insist upon, not with Jess so adamant that she didn’t want it, but he was grateful for it all the same.

  Captain O’Henry came up to them. “Good you both made it. Told His Grace to get you two aboard, that I couldn’t hold the ship even for him.” The man shook his head, and sunlight glinted off his earring. “His Grace. Still can’t quite cotton to calling him that. Imagine all those times I had a duke hiding in my hold and I didn’t know it.”

  “It wasn’t really a time for revealing secrets,” Jess said tightly.

  “No, I guess not.” The captain gestured behind Derek. “This isn’t really a passenger vessel, so we haven’t any cabins, but seeing as it’s such a short hop over to Verbonne, you two can rest in my cabin until we get there. If the weather holds and we hit the tides right, we’ll be docking tonight. If not, it will be in the morning.”

  Were Derek and Jess still supposed to be traveling as a married couple? Why else would the captain offer to leave them in his quarters alone? Best to stay with a safe, neutral comment until he knew for sure. “We’re much obliged.”

  “I’m sure your quarters will be far more comfortable than bunking down on the cargo,” Jess said with a small smile.

  Once in the captain’s quarters with the door shut, Jess set her bag down with the bowl on top of it and crossed to the windows that ran along the back of the ship to watch the water. Derek set his bag with hers and moved to stand beside her.

  He took a deep breath and admitted, “I’m glad I’m going with you.”

  Slowly she uncrossed her arms and lowered her hands. Her fingers twined between his and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re coming with me, too.”

  Jess had moved in and out of many a port in her day. She’d hidden in trunks, disguised herself as a sailor, even slipped over the side and swam to another part of the shore. There was no need for any of that as the boat sailed into Verbonne’s port just as the sun was setting. Somehow entering her former homeland like a
normal visitor felt a bit less momentous than she’d expected. Certainly less eventful.

  “You’re free to stay until morning,” Captain O’Henry said. “It’ll be difficult to find lodging this late.”

  “I know where we’re going,” Jess said. She didn’t add that she had no idea if they’d be welcome or not. Besides, she liked seeing a place for the first time at night. The darkness gave a certain amount of security, as even people familiar with the town stumbled about at night.

  This wasn’t her first time here, however, even though it felt as if it were. There wasn’t much of the little girl who’d once lived here remaining in the woman she’d become.

  “The palace is this way.” Jess guided Derek down a wide street. People still wandered about, visiting taverns or walking home from a day’s work. No one took notice of two people carrying small bundles and walking like they knew where they were going.

  “Will your brother be there?”

  She hoped so. She hoped she would recognize him. Would he recognize her? Was it even a possibility? Her features hadn’t changed much, but life had changed her. Didn’t that type of aging show on a person’s face?

  “Only one way to find out,” she said, trudging up the hill.

  “Kit said something interesting as I was boarding the ship,” Derek said softly.

  “Hmmm?”

  “She said you didn’t think you were worthy of love.”

  Jess stopped walking briefly and then shook her head as she moved on. “I was tired. I didn’t really mean it.”

  “Didn’t you?” Derek matched her steps and her pace, staying at her side and looking straight ahead. Somehow that made it easier.

  “It isn’t so much that I am unworthy,” Jess said with a sigh, knowing Derek would not let this go until he had a satisfactory answer. “It’s that . . .” Jess sighed again. How was she supposed to explain this? “You said love required sacrifice. Kit agreed. I’m not worth anyone making that sacrifice.”

  Derek shook his head. “You’re looking at sacrifice the wrong way, then.”

  They turned a few more corners, and the people on the streets thinned out until they were practically alone, guided along by nothing but starlight and a sliver of moon when the clouds decided to let it through.