The two braves led Julius through the camp, directly to a wigwam that was outside the seemingly haphazardly placed structures. One brave signaled for Julius to wait and ducked inside. Julius heard the Indian speak, then Gavin's own voice as he replied in the strange language.
I'll be damned. I've found him, Julius thought.
A second later Gavin came out of the wigwam with a great smile on his face. He threw his arms around Julius and pounded him on the back. "Good to see you, old friend!"
Gavin turned to the two braves and gave thanks for their escort. The Indians made a polite reply and then excused themselves, disappearing among the many wigwams.
Julius tossed his bag down on the ground and dropped his hands to his hips. "You're looking a mite thinner than last I saw you, friend. These savages not feeding you properly?"
Gavin laughed. "Christ's bones, it's good to hear a decent English voice, even if it is yours, you old sea dog. Some of the men here speak the king's tongue, but it's so interspersed with hand signals and Shawnee that it's damned hard to follow!"
The two men stood regarding each other for a moment after their laughter faded. Then Gavin spoke again, the smile fading from his face. "So what brings you here?" he intoned.
"You addlepated? What do you think brings me here?"
Gavin glanced away, scowling. "You ought not stick your nose into business that's not your own, Julius. 'T'will get you into nothing but trouble."
"And you ought not be such a flaming fool!"
Gavin whirled around to challenge his friend. "I don't know what she told you, but—"
"The truth is what she told. And how did you reward her for her honesty? You run off like a little boy who didn't get his way!"
Gavin took a step backward, shocked by Julius's harsh words. "She killed my brother, for Christ's sake!"
"You didn't hear her out!" Julius shook a finger. "You didn't give her a chance to tell you what happened."
Gavin folded his arms over his chest. "She deceived me from the start."
"Seems to me, boyo, when first you came to London, you didn't tell anyone you were Waxton's brother! You skirted about, calling yourself Merrick. You deceived her."
"That's not the same thing and you damned well know it!" Noticing that several Shawnee were looking their way, Gavin lowered his voice. "And truthfully, I was Merrick. I was simply also Waxton."
"Words! Dueling with meaningless words is all you're doing, and you're doing it to keep from admitting that you might well have been wrong." The old sailor leaned over a bucket of fresh water near the door to Gavin's wigwam and ladled himself a drink. He took a long sip and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You play these word games to avoid the issue, friend."
Gavin's green eyes narrowed angrily. "And just what is the issue?"
"The blasted issue is that you got a wife five months gone with child sitting back in that big house of yours waiting for you. You've damned well broke her heart running off like this!"
Gavin's voice softened. "She's pregnant?" He looked away, suddenly deep in thought. "She didn't tell me."
"With you acting like such a jackanape, why would she?"
Gavin lifted his chin to meet Julius's gaze. "Surely she knew before I left. Before she came to me with her confession. Why didn't she tell me then?"
"Ask her yourself, why don't you?"
Gavin turned his boot in the hard-packed soil. "I've nothing to say to her. I want no more of her lies."
"By the king's cod!" Julius sat down on the ground outside the wigwam and picked up a stick. He began to draw pictures in the dust. "Did you ask her why she lied? Did you?"
"No."
"When you love someone the way you claimed to love her, you owe that person certain rights. The rights to explain herself bein' one of 'em."
"How could she have done it, Julius? How could she have pushed him out the window?" Gavin's voice cracked. "How could she have murdered my brother in cold blood like that? Ellen? My sweet Ellen?"
"Were you there?"
Gavin laughed, but without humor. "No, don't be ridiculous. Of course I wasn't there. I was here, half a world away."
"Then how do you know what happened? Whose word you got?"
"The authorities, of course!" Gavin shook his head. "The king's men made a report. I read it."
"The king's men or Hunt's?"
There was a long pause of silence as Gavin swallowed that thought. Finally, he came to sit beside Julius. He drew his knees up and stared out over the trees at the setting sun. "How could I have loved my brother's wife?"
"Loved? You mean you don't love her anymore?" Julius turned to watch Gavin carefully. "Tell me, is she any different now than she was the day you married her on the foredeck? The answer is no. Nothin' has changed. Nothin' but that she wanted only honesty between herself and the man she loves. Even if the honesty could cost her that love." Julius paused. "Has her honesty cost her your love, great Earl of Waxton?"
Gavin made a fist. It was obvious from the sound of his voice that he fought back tears. "She killed my brother!"
"Mayhap she did, but killed is right, as in she did it before you ever met her. Before you ever fell for those dark eyes and that smile that can light up every face in a room."
"She lied about Waldron . . . about who she was. How many other lies were there?"
Julius went back to scratching in the earth. "I don't know. You'd have to ask her: But my experience has been that a man might be able to lie about what happened to him, about what he did, but he can never lie about who he is." He tapped Gavin's shirt with the tip of his stick. "A man or a woman can't lie about what's in the heart. Her heart's pure and you know it, Gavin. You just need to push your pride aside to see it."
Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. "I don't know, Jules. I just don't know."
"What don't you know?"
"If I can forgive her . . ." Gavin answered softly. "I hated the woman who killed Waldron for so long that I don't know if I have that forgiveness in me."
"So what was all that talk you gave me on the ship of forgiving the Lady Waxton? I seem to recall you tellin' me you no longer sought her. You told me what was past was past. Forgive was most definitely the word you used."
"But to forgive a stranger, a woman I would never meet, was different. This means forgiving my wife for killing my brother. I . . . I'm not certain I can do it."
"Don't you think you ought to hear Ellen out before you go decide on such a thing?"
"A child." Gavin shook his head. "A child makes everything so much more complicated."
"So whoever told you life was going to be wrapped up all neat like a hogshead of tobacco? Life ain't neat. It's sticky, and sometimes it hurts."
Gavin turned to his friend. "She told you her side of the story?"
"That she did."
"And you believed her?"
"I believed her, and were you to give her half a chance, I think you'd believe her, too."
"Tell me."
Julius shook his head. "Ain't my place. If this is to be settled, it's got to be settled between the two of you."
Gavin stared out at the Indian village, but without focusing his eyes. "My brother, Jules," he whispered. "Waldron was my brother. He protected me as a child. He funded me as a man. I loved him."
"But now you love her. And you'll love the babe she brings into this world for you." Julius laid a hand on Gavin's arm. "I'm warning you. You give her up and you'll never be the man you could have been. As much as the thought that Ellen killed your brother hurts, it won't break you in two. You lose her and you'll never be whole again." Julius rose and picked up his pack. "Now you just think about what I said here and see if you can't find a way to bring back some sense into that head of yours."
Gavin stood. "Where are you going?"
"Home. I'll not stay here and fight with you all night, friend. I came to say what I said, and now I'll be on my way."
; Gavin followed him through the village. "It's near dark. . . . At least stay the night, Julius. We could share a bottle of brandy."
Julius pulled his knit cap down over his head stubbornly. "Nope. I'll just be on my way. Any brandy of yours would taste sour on my breath right now." He gave a wave as he strode through the village in the direction of Heaven's Fate. "You come to your senses, Gavin, you know where to find me. I'll be lookin' after your wife, like you ought to be."
Gavin stood in shocked silence as he watched his friend disappear into the forest. He called out to Julius once, but the sea captain pretended not to hear.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ellen stood in Gavin's library, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle as she listened to the rain that pounded on the windows. A single lamp lit the room. Lost in thought, she stared at the portrait Gavin had carted across the ocean. She stared at the woman she had been.
Ellen didn't know what had possessed her to bring the picture out, to unwrap it, and to have it carried here to Gavin's study. She laughed to herself, wondering if madness was indeed taking over.
But as she studied Thomasina's distinctive jawline and the curve of her cheek, she felt something close to contentment wash over her. She no longer feared the secret of her past, because it was no longer a secret. Thomasina could never hurt her again.
The thought that she had most likely lost Gavin's love made her heart ache. But somewhere in the midst of that ache was a spark of relief . . . of accomplishment, almost joy. She would give birth to her child not under the cover of deceit, but with the honesty every child deserves from his or her mother.
As she stared at the portrait, a slip of paper tucked under a book on Gavin's desk caught her eye. It was Gavin's writing. She picked up the paper and smiled. On one side of the paper was a list of materials needed to build a new dock down by the river, but on the other side was an old note he had left her one morning on his way to the fields. It was a silly note, meaningless now, but she tucked it into the slit in her skirting where she wore a pocket. Somehow now the note was precious.
A sound much like the whinny of a horse caught Ellen's attention and she turned toward the dark windows behind her. She listened again but this time could hear nothing but the howl of the wind.
Suddenly cool, Ellen picked up the lamp from the desk and made her way down the hall in search of her wrapper. "Mary?"
"Mistress?" A comforting call came from the direction of the kitchen.
Ellen heard footsteps, then the Indian housekeeper appeared. "What be it, mistress?"
Ellen's brow furrowed. "A noise. Did you hear a queer noise outside?"
"Heard nothing but the crack of the fire and the snore of the boy. He's asleep on his bed in the kitchen."
Ellen glanced at the darkened front hall. Julius was bedded down in the horse barn. He refused to sleep in the main house, saying it wasn't befitting.
Julius had disappeared for three days after their conversation in the library concerning Gavin, and when he had reappeared, Ellen had a feeling he had spoken with her husband. When she questioned him, he refused to discuss the subject. All he would tell her was to have patience. After a week, her patience with both Gavin and Julius was growing thin.
"Wake up, Rob," Ellen said, looking back at Mary. "I'm going to run up and get my wrap. I want Rob to go out and take a look around with Julius."
"Something amiss, mistress?"
Ellen shook her head. "I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. I'm suddenly uneasy." She looked up at Mary, feeling a little foolish. "Do you know what I mean?"
Mary nodded her head gravely. "A night like this the ghosts of our ancestors come back to haunt us. It is a night to keep close to the fire and lift prayers to the heavens."
Ellen laughed as she started up the steps toward the bedchamber she had once shared with Gavin. "I fear no ghosts, Mary."
Only men, she thought. Only one man. She didn't know what had made her think of Hunt Of course, there was no need to fear him. He was an ocean away, and she was safe. She knew that. Didn't she?
Upstairs, Ellen found her wool wrapper and tied it around her shoulders to chase away the chill she just couldn't shake.
The storm that had been blowing in all evening seemed to be gaining strength now. She could hear the wind howling and tree branches scraping the windows. Ellen walked to a window near Gavin's desk and peered out into the darkness. Rain pelted the glass so hard that it sounded like rocks hitting the panes. Thunderclouds clashed and lightning zigzagged through the air.
A streak of lightning suddenly lit up the sky, and for just an instant Ellen thought she saw men on horseback below. She grasped the windowsill and leaned closer, pressing her face to the glass. When lightning lit the sky again, she saw nothing.
Shadows, she thought.
Downstairs she heard a door open and close and knew young Rob was finally making his way out to the barn.
"About time," she murmured. The boy was well behaved and obedient, but like most young men in their teen years, he was sometimes a little slow to respond to a request.
Ellen had started for the bedchamber door, when she thought she heard a bang, followed by two more. Gunshots or thunder, she thought. She backtracked to the window, suddenly very uneasy.
"Rob? Julius?" she murmured aloud. Of course there were plenty of other men on the plantation—bondmen and the overseer—but they slept in bunkhouses or in small single-family dwellings well away from the house.
Ellen cupped her hands over her face to block out the glare of the lamplight in her room and stared down into the yard below. She saw nothing, yet she sensed a presence. It was an odd feeling for a person who claimed to be so practical.
She rolled her eyes heavenward as she spun around, dismissing her uncomfortable feeling. All this talk of ghosts! She'd soon be as superstitious as Mary!
She picked up the lamp and started down the hallway. She had just reached the top step when she heard Mary scream.
"Mary!" Ellen screamed back. She leaned over the railing to see what was wrong and what she saw turned her blood icy.
A burly sailor was dragging a kicking and screaming Mary across the polished floor of the front hall.
Hunt stood in the doorway, his shocking white hair brushed back in a wet mane, a black cloak covering his shoulders. By the light of the lamp with the flicker of lightning behind him, he appeared even more sinister than Ellen had remembered.
"Run, mistress!" Mary shouted. "Run from the ghosts!"
"Mary!"
"Run!" she repeated as the sailor dragged her from Ellen's view. "Run from the evil!"
"Thomasina?" Hunt's voice echoed off the freshly plastered and painted walls of the stairwell. "Thomasina, my dear, come down."
Ellen whirled around and ran. She knew she couldn't help Mary at this moment, but at least she could try to help her own unborn child, for Ellen knew as sure as she lived that if Hunt captured her, she'd not live a fortnight.
"Thomasina! You whoring jade! Don't make me have to come after you! Come down here, I say!"
Ellen could hear Hunt's footsteps on the staircase as she turned the corner and raced for her bedchamber.
"Thomasina, I've come too far to play your games. We both know what I want!" he shouted. "We both know what I must have!"
Ellen reached the haven of her bedchamber and slammed the door shut. She leaned to throw the lock in the darkness, then cursed as she realized the locks had not yet been added to the doors.
"Thomasina!"
She grabbed a cherry sideboard and pulled it across the floor. Pushing it against the door, she ran for another piece. She shoved Gavin's desk against the door and frantically ran to pile heavy objects on both tables. She added two chairs, a stepping stool, and several small objects.
"Thomasina!" Hunt boomed from the hallway. He gave the door a push. "Thomasina, you're being childish!"
"Go away!" she screamed.
"Thomasina, dear, give me the letter and I
won't tell your new husband the truth of who you are."
Ellen began to back up, away from the door. As Hunt spoke, he pushed on it. The furniture was beginning to slide.
"Go to hell, Hunt!" she cried. "He already knows!"
"And he doesn't care that you murdered his beloved brother in cold blood?"
"I didn't murder him and you know it! He was trying to murder me! He fell, and well he deserved it!" Ellen didn't know what made her so bold. The fear of death? Or was it that she had simply grown tired of her fear of the Duke of Hunt?
"Give me the letter, Thomasina, dear, and I'll collaborate with your story. Your charges of murder will be dropped. You'll be a free woman."
She laughed at his lies as she backed up to the window. She could see his white hands gripping the inside of the door now as he pushed his way in. Dear God, but she wished she had a gun. Of course, they were both down in Gavin's library. From here she could never get to them. "You'll have me cleared of all charges, will you?"
"A fair trade, I should think," he grunted as he shoved the door open inch by inch. "You get your freedom, I get Waldron's letter?"
Ellen threw open the window behind her. The wind whipped the draperies, and rain came through in sheets to wet the floor and soak her skirts. "You would do that, Duke?" she asked sweetly. "Give me my freedom for that silly list of names?" She could see his face now as he pressed open the door. He had almost gained entry into her bedchamber.
"I would."
"But I already have my freedom. And what harm could I do you now, here so far from London and your politicking?"
With a final shove, the desk went toppling over and Hunt stepped inside the room. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the exertion. "I completely agree, dearest, but there are friends of mine at Court who are not so . . . trusting." He held out his hand. "It's for them I must have the letter. Not myself, you understand?"
The sight of Hunt here in her bedchamber made her stomach churn. Dear God, how she hated this man! She put her hands behind her back and felt the cool rain as it poured through the window. "I would give you the letter, out of kindness," she said, her gaze meeting his. For once she didn't shrink back in fear of his inhuman pink eyes. "But unfortunately, I no longer have it."
Sweet Deception (Hidden Identity) Page 32