Sweet Deception (Hidden Identity)

by Colleen French

  They took the steps by two, running side by side. Ellen felt a sudden streak of terror as she remembered that night she had fled Havering House, the night she had killed Waldron.

  Down two hallways, they burst into the kitchen. Mrs. Spate and her children were gone. Richard was nowhere to be seen.

  "Christ! Where is he?" Gavin spun around in fury. "I thought you said he was going to meet us here!"

  "He was! He should be here!"

  Gavin thought for a moment, then pushed her bag into her hands. "I want you to go out into the woodshed, get astride one of those horses, and head for London. We'll catch up."

  "No!" Ellen shook her head, suddenly terrified. She remembered fleeing Havering House that night alone. "Not without you and Richard! I won't do it!"

  Gavin had already started out of the kitchen. "Now, Ellen," he shouted angrily. "Get on the blessed horse now!"

  Ellen watched him disappear around the corner. She glanced at the outside door that still led to freedom from Hunt, then back at the empty doorway Gavin had gone through. She could hear Gavin hollering now, calling for Richard. . . .

  "Chambray! Chambray, where the hell are you?" Gavin ran down the hall, through the front entranceway. "Chambray!"

  "Up here!"

  Gavin grabbed the stair railing and spun around, racing up the steps. "Where? What the hell are you doing? Do you need help?"

  Halfway down the hall, he met Richard.

  "I forgot this." Richard lifted a miniature portrait of Ellen, then slipped it into his shirtwaist. "I couldn't leave it behind."

  "Jesus Christ, Chambray—"

  At that moment, the sound of splitting wood broke the still air.

  "Where's Ellen?" Richard ran beside Gavin, headed for the front staircase. Hunt and his men had reached the house.

  "I left her in the kitchen. She's supposed to be on a damn horse!"

  Gavin and Richard made it halfway down the steps, before the first of Hunt's soldiers squeezed through a hole he'd made in the front door. "Haiti You're under arrest, Baron Chambray," the man shouted, getting up off his knees as he lifted a sword. "Surrender and come peaceably."

  "Bloody hell!" Richard cried, drawing his own blade. "Step back and let us pass, or die, man!"

  Side by side, Gavin and Richard came down the steps with their swords poised. Another soldier burst through the hole in the door.

  "You take the short one," Gavin ordered. "I'll take the ugly one."

  Richard leaped into action, bounding off the bottom step to meet sword against sword with the king's soldier. "Cheat!" he hollered to Gavin above the sound of clanking metal. "You know I like the ugly ones!"

  Though Gavin had little use for a sword in the Colonies, his parrying abilities came back to him remarkably well. His blade felt well weighted, even comfortable in his hand. He moved his feet with the instinctive grace his boyhood instructor had taught him must be the grace of a dancer.

  Gavin backed his opponent into the wall, dodged left, and sunk his blade into the man's side. The king's soldier fell back against the wall, dropping his sword to clutch his wound.

  "Need a little help, Chambray?" Gavin called.

  The moment the words slipped from his mouth, another soldier came through the hole in the front door. Gavin's sword had just met his, when he heard Ellen's scream from behind him. He threw a glance over his shoulder to see her struggling in the arms of a dark-haired soldier.

  "Release her!" Gavin shouted, still keeping his opponent at bay with the tip of his sword. "Free the woman or you'll rue the day your mother whelped you!"

  Ellen screamed and kicked as the man dragged her through the doorway into the front hall. "Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed. "You tell Hunt I want to see him! I want him to come get me himself!"

  Swearing beneath his breath, Gavin sliced hard again and again, taking down his second man at the same moment Richard felled his.

  "Three down," Richard called, panting heavily as he clutched his chest. "I'll watch the door, you see to Ellen!"

  Gavin spun around, measuring the distance between him and Ellen's captor, trying to figure out the best way to kill him without risking injury to her.

  Ellen still fought, pummeling the soldier's face with her fists and kicking wildly. She fought so fiercely that it was all the man could do to keep himself upright.

  "Let her go and I'll not kill you," Gavin offered.

  "I let her go and the duke kills me." The soldier shrugged his massive shoulders. "What's the difference?"

  Gavin swung his sword, managing to catch the soldier's arm and draw blood.

  Furiously indignant, the soldier flung Ellen into the corner by the staircase and lifted his sword. "Now it is you that must die, my lord!"

  Ellen gave a grunt of pain as her head hit the wall, but Gavin forced himself to focus his attention on his opponent. As their swords met for the first time, he realized this man was good, very good, much better than the others. His only weakness seemed to be his anger. Holding tight to that thought, Gavin forced himself to remain calm, parry after parry. He pushed from his mind his thoughts of the life-threatening situation he was in. He pushed away his thoughts of protecting Ellen. All that mattered now was sword against sword, as steel met steel again and again.

  "What's taking so long?" Gavin heard from outside the broken door. Hunt's voice.

  Behind him, Gavin heard another soldier come through the door, then the sound of Richard's sword swish through the air.

  As Gavin fought his opponent, he slowly turned, trying to make his way closer to Ellen, who was trapped in the corner by the fighting men. He took his eye off his opponent for only an instant, but it was long enough to obtain a sharp sting in the arm as the tip of the man's sword sliced through the cloth of Gavin's shirt and cut his arm.

  Ellen gave a muffled cry, but had sense enough to know not to distract the man she loved if she wanted him to live.

  "Bring her out or I'll have all your heads!" Hunt shouted from outside as he pounded his fist on the front door.

  Out of fear of his master, Gavin's opponent flinched. Gavin took advantage of the moment and went down on one knee with a long, graceful repartee. The man groaned as Gavin's sword sliced through his chest, moaning loudly as the blade was withdrawn. He stood for only a second, his sword hand shaking, his other hand clamped over his breast, before he fell to his knees and pitched forward on the black and white marble floor.

  "Gavin!" Ellen ran into his arms. "Thank God you're all right."

  He pulled her to him in a fierce hug. "I told you to go!" he shouted, furious at her for disobeying but relieved to have her safe in his arms.

  Another soldier slipped through the front door and Gavin whirled around. "Need some help, Chambray?"

  Richard threw back his head in laughter, his feet barely touching the floor now made slippery with the blood of the dead men. As Gavin watched, he realized Richard parried as well as any gentleman he had ever known.

  "By the king's cod, no, I don't need your pitiful help!" Richard flung. "Get her out of here! I'll meet you on the road."

  "Chambray—"

  "Do as I say, Waxton. We're running short of time."

  Gavin glanced at Richard, taking note that his chest was stained with deep red blood again. His lung wound . . . Gavin looked back at Ellen, understanding what Richard meant. His injury was mortal and he was fading fast, despite the devil-may-care tone in his voice.

  Gavin could hear Hunt bellowing outside as he instructed his men to get something to break down the remainder of the door, so the soldiers didn't have to climb through the hole one at a time. Gavin knew that in a moment's time too many men would burst through the door for two men and a woman to face.

  "No!" Ellen screamed. "We'll not leave Richard behind! We go together or not at all!" She reached out toward Richard, but Gavin grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off her feet. "He's right. I want you on a horse before Hunt gets in here."

  "No!" Ellen screamed. "We can
't leave Richard! Richard!"

  "Gavin!" Richard's voice was stark and strangled, his meaning clear. Run, friend. Take her to safety while you still have the chance.

  Gavin carried Ellen through the door and into the kitchen. At the kitchen, he set her on her feet and shook her. "Listen to me! You've never been a hysterical wench before. Don't start now. Are you listening?"

  Tears ran down her face. She nodded.

  He grabbed her by her arm, snatched up her bag still sitting in the doorway, and led her outside. "Richard will catch up with us. We have to get you out of here. It's obvious it's you Hunt wants."

  "But Richard—"

  "Richard's dying." This wasn't the time for tact. Only action would save them now. He led her around to the woodshed, where the three saddled horses waited. "Richard's dying, and our only chance to get out of here is to go now while he holds them off."

  "No. Don't say that!" She clutched her bag.

  He yanked her bag from her hand, stuffed it into a saddlebag, then lifted her onto the nearest horse. "A man who's going to die anyway would just as soon die in a sword fight defending the woman he loves, Ellen."

  She gripped the reins Gavin pushed into her hands. "We can't just leave him for Hunt! We can't!"

  Gavin looked back toward the house as he led her horse and his own out of the woodshed. His mind was spinning. He knew that what he was doing made sense. Chambray wasn't going to survive the wound, not after it had reopened. Perhaps he'd even been hit again in the same place. It made sense for Richard to sacrifice himself for the lives of Gavin and Ellen. Were Gavin in the same position, he'd do no less.

  Still, Richard was a friend.

  Gavin turned Ellen's horse toward the road. "We're going to have to ride like hell out and around the village through the woods, away from the main road so we can lose them. Do you understand?"

  Tears still ran down her pale cheeks, but she nodded. She understood.

  Gavin glanced once more at the house, where the sound of parrying swords still rang out. Then he slapped Ellen's horse hard on the haunch and the animal bolted.

  Ellen screamed. "Gavin!"

  "Just go on!" he shouted after her, already turning back for the house. "Ride! We'll catch up! I swear it, Ellen!"

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gavin knew this didn't make any sense. He should be on Hunt's white horse riding away from Havering House. Richard was dying; there was nothing he could do for him. Gavin knew his responsibility lay with the woman he loved, the woman he had promised Richard he would protect.

  But some acts went against reason.

  Gavin raced through the kitchen door, drawing his sword from his belt. Sometimes logic didn't figure into decisions like it should. His head told him to let Richard go, but his heart told him no man, mortally wounded or not, should die among enemies when he could die among friends.

  "Christ's bones! What are you doing back again?" Richard demanded as Gavin came around the corner from the kitchen.

  The duke's men had backed Richard down the hallway. His face was ashen from loss of blood, his entire chest stained crimson. He was staggering, his sword seeming too heavy for his hand. But somehow he had managed to fight off two king's soldiers this long.

  Gavin leaped in front of Richard, startling one of the soldiers and taking him down with a single well-aimed thrust.

  The other soldier swore as he tripped on his companion's body.

  "I suppose I enjoyed the parrying so much that I thought I'd come back for more. There aren't a great many gentlemen's sword fights in Maryland, Chambray." Gavin glanced over his shoulder as he allowed the soldier to back him down the hall. He wanted to get into the kitchen so that he would be closer to the horses when he felled this last man. "Why not wander out the back, Chambray? The moon's pretty tonight. I'll be directly behind you, no doubt."

  "Lackwit!" Richard leaned against the wall, trying not wheeze as he attempted to force air into his punctured lung. "You should have gone when I gave you the chance. I'd have done it!"

  "So you're a brighter man than I!" Gavin dodged left, taking a slice from his opponent's right shoulder.

  Chambray backed into the kitchen, bumping into a worktable covered with vegetables for Mrs. Spate's soup. Carrots and potatoes rolled onto the floor. "What of Ellen?"

  "Yes, what of her?" Hunt's form suddenly filled the kitchen door frame.

  "Chambray!" Gavin shouted. "Get yourself out of here!"

  Richard took a step toward Hunt. "I fear no man, least of all a coward who sends other men to do his bidding."

  The soldier Gavin had been fighting suddenly stepped aside and backed up, allowing his master full view of Gavin.

  "You go, Waxton," Richard said. He lifted his sword with great effort. "I'll make short work of the freak and then be with you in a moment's time."

  The Duke of Hunt threw back his head in laughter as he took an easy stance in the doorway. He was dressed as splendidly as the king, in a garish blue and red suit with gold braid and piping and a matching blue cloak.

  Two soldiers slipped in the back door, trapping Richard and Gavin between them and the Duke of Hunt.

  "How gallant of you both, gentlemen, fighting to see who will be given the opportunity to die first." Hunt smiled a smile that made the hair on the back of Gavin's neck bristle.

  "I don't know why it is you seek Ellen, and I don't care." As Gavin spoke, he began considering his options for escape. With Richard wounded as badly as he was, the choices were few. "What I find interesting, Hunt, is that you would find a woman such a dangerous adversary that you would chase her across half the countryside. I would almost think you were frightened of her."

  "Oh, you don't care what it is she's done, you say?" The duke raised a white eyebrow haughtily. "Well, you cocky colonial bastard, what if I were to tell you that your little Saint Ellen is actually—"

  "No!" Richard threw himself at Hunt. "No, you won't, you pervert!"

  The duke and his men were taken so off guard that all Hunt could do was stumble backward to avoid a direct hit. He knocked the soldier beside him over as Richard plunged his sword between Hunt's ribs.

  Immediately, the other two soldiers leaped into action. Gavin spun around and caught the first one across the throat with his sword, spewing blood over himself and the sanded plank floor. The soldier fell with a gurgle, clenching his throat.

  Drawing his sword against the last soldier between him and the door, Gavin backed up, grabbing Richard by the collar and dragging him off Hunt, who was apparently wounded but not enough that he couldn't shout and curse as he tried to untangle his limbs from those of the soldier and Richard.

  "This is our invitation to make haste," Gavin shouted, shoving Richard toward the door.

  Richard, his sword lost in the scuffle with Hunt, stumbled and fell to his knees. He was gasping for breath now, his face beginning to turn a bluish tint. "Go! Go, Gavin! Tell Ellen I loved her."

  "Tell her yourself!" Gavin made a sudden turn, ducked, and came up bringing his fist in direct contact with the only soldier still standing. The man flew backward, slipping on the bloody floor, his sword sailing from his hand and out of reach.

  Taking his moment of opportunity, Gavin slid his sword into the belt that hung on his hips and ran for the outside kitchen door. Halfway across the slippery floor, he lifted Chambray into his arms. Richard was so weak that he put up no struggle.

  "Bastard," Richard murmured, barely conscious. "Stupid bastard. We'll never get away now."

  Gavin burst through the back door and headed straight for the woodshed, where he prayed Hunt's horse still stood. If the horses were gone, he and Richard were sunk for certain. "Who's the stupid bastard, Baron Chambray? You just ran one of the most powerful men in England through with your sword!"

  "Did I kill him?"

  "Fear not." Gavin turned the corner of the shed and heaved an audible sigh of relief. There stood Hunt's horse waiting patiently for a rider. The horse would have to carry the burd
en of two riders. Richard was too weak to ride alone, and there wasn't time to tie him on a horse.

  "What are you doing?" Richard protested half-heartedly as Gavin heaved him into the saddle of Hunt's horse.

  "I told Ellen we'd meet her." Gavin swung up behind Richard, steadying him with one hand as he reined the horse around and out of the woodshed. "I'm a man of my word, you know that."

  "You'll die for this!" Hunt screamed from the back door of the kitchen.

  As Gavin rode down the drive into the darkness, he took a final glance over his shoulder to see Hunt standing at the shed, shaking his fist in fury as he applied a towel to the bloodstain on his powder blue shirtwaist.

  "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth!" Hunt bellowed. "I'll find her! And you, Waxton will die. I can't tell you how much pleasure it will give me to see you beg for mercy!"

  Gavin threw up an obscene gesture and laughed as he rode off into the darkness. "God's teeth," he muttered, smiling to himself as he took a sharp bend in the road and darted into the cover of the woods. "I can't believe we made it out of there alive, Chambray!"

  Ellen waited near the edge of Havering Village at Mrs. Spate's abandoned cottage. When she spotted Gavin on horseback riding full speed toward her, she ran out into the center of the dusty road "You're safe!" she cried, tears running down her cheeks. "I was so afraid you wouldn't get away!"

  Gavin pulled hard on the reins, forcing Hunt's steed to a halt. He reached out to wipe away her tears with the back of his hand. "Safe, but not safe for long if we don't get out of here." The horse pawed at the ground nervously, whipping its head and pulling on the reins. "No doubt the village will be the first place Hunt looks for us."

  Ellen laid a hand on Richard's knee, looking up at Gavin. Richard was slumped over the horse, unconscious.

  "He's still alive, but barely," Gavin said, not making her have to ask.

  "He's worse?"

  He nodded. "Much."

  She fought back fresh tears, knowing she couldn't let emotions get the best of her. If they were going to escape, she knew she'd have to remain levelheaded. Gavin was right: She wasn't a hysterical jade and she'd not become one now. "So . . . so where do we go? How do we get back to the ship? Hunt's sure to send more men after us. An army this time, I fear."