Moonlight Surrender (Moonlight Book 3)

by Ferrarella, Marie

Chapter Thirty-nine

  As promised, Sebastian was waiting for them on the outskirts of town. He had with him two horses instead of just the one, as if some instinct had prompted him to “find” another along the way.

  It was a fortuitous instinct.

  Like a man with the devil snapping at his heels, Jacob pulled the wagon to a halt and leaped from the driver’s seat. Working swiftly, he removed the harness from his horse.

  Behind him, Beth, Duncan, and Jacques were helping Philippe and Andre from the cart. Neither could really walk very far. Andre was close to being delirious and could not stand. Though Philippe fared slightly better, he was consumptively weak.

  Beth looked at Duncan, concerned, as between them they took Andre from the wagon. “I don’t know if either one of them can ride.”

  There was no choice in the matter. “They’ll have to. The wagon is too slow, and the further we are from Paris, the better for all involved. The wagon might attract unwanted attention. Megan is swift, but she can’t outrun pursuers while pulling a wagon with four people in it. This is for the best.”

  Philippe, leaning heavily against Jacques, attempted to smile at his daughter, but the effort was far from complete. “I can ride, Beth. Don’t concern yourself.”

  Beth frowned. Her father didn’t look as if he could even sit in the saddle. And there was no question that Andre couldn’t. “They’ll both fall.”

  “He’ll double with me,” Duncan told Beth. “Jacob, you ride with the boy.” Duncan glanced at Beth. “We’ll take the extra horse with us.” She could hold onto its reins as they rode.

  “I do not mean to rush you, my friends, but we must hurry,” Jacques urged. He had Henri watching the road for any sign of someone approaching,

  Duncan nodded. Between the two of them, he and Jacques managed to seat Philippe in the saddle. Duncan swung on behind the rail-thin man, placing his arms around the skeletal body.

  Jacques and Sebastian helped Jacob with Andre. But as Duncan, Beth, and Jacob prepared to leave, Jacques remained standing on the ground. He held the reins of his horse fast in his hand.

  “This is where we part company, my friends,” he told them. He swung into his saddle and joined his men. “It is best if my men and I don’t know where you are going.” He smiled at Duncan as they exchanged knowing looks. “Just in case.”

  Duncan understood. No man knew what he might reveal under torture. Each man had his limits, and each man’s was different. He would not want Jacques tested for his, if it came to that.

  With one arm around Philippe and the reins, Duncan leaned and reached for Jacques’s hand. He clasped it tightly for a moment.

  “I don’t know what we would have done without you and your men, Jacques.”

  Jacques was not a vain man, but he let himself bask a moment in Duncan’s gratitude. Then he lifted a shoulder carelessly.

  “As always, you would have managed.” A smile creased his lips. “But it would have taken you a little longer, perhaps.”

  “Time was what we didn’t have,” Beth interjected. He turned to look at her. Gratitude shone in her eyes like shimmering beacons. “There’s no way I can thank you for all you have done.” And all that he risked for them, she added silently.

  He allowed himself a moment to look at her one last time. Fitzhugh was a lucky man. “Your smile is payment enough, mademoiselle. Now go, quickly. Revenge flies on swift wings.”

  With that, Jacques and his men turned and rode away, back into Paris and the chaos that was abounding there. There were others to help.

  Jacob looked from Beth to Duncan. He pressed the sagging boy against his chest. “Where do we go?” he wanted to know.

  “To the harbor,” Duncan urged. But Beth shook her head.

  “No. Back to Therese’s,” she cried. When Duncan looked at her, mystified, she reminded him of her reason. “My great-aunt is still there. We can’t just leave her here. She has to come with us.”

  Duncan’s arm tightened about the man who nodded before him. Philippe was unconscious. Duncan didn’t bother to argue with Beth. He had known from the first that they would have to return for the woman. He had only forgotten that in the excitement of the flight.

  Duncan motioned for Jacob to be off. “You heard the lady. Let’s go to Therese’s.”

  On horseback, the journey to the cottage nestled on the perimeter of the forest was swift.

  The pace was quick, but Beth feared what the ride might do to her father’s broken health. Not to mention what it must have been doing for Andre’s. But again, they had no choice. Every moment held the threat of discovery and capture. This time, there would be no one to rescue them, no way to escape.

  With a watchful eye for roving bands, they arrived at Therese’s just as the late-afternoon sun cast its light along the land.

  Beth uttered a cry of relief as the cottage came into view. To her it was as if they had arrived at a haven. They needed to rest the horses, but more than that, they needed a momentary respite for both her father and the young boy they’d rescued with him.

  “Wait,” Duncan cautioned, his hand raised for silence. He looked around, his eyes alert.

  Beth had brought her horse to a halt and was about to dismount. She looked at Duncan quizzically, not understanding his somber expression. She looked about. Nothing seemed amiss.

  “Why?” she asked.

  His eyes caught her. “Listen.”

  She did, then shrugged, still not comprehending. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “That’s just it. Why isn’t the dog barking? He was wild when we approached the last time.” Agitated, a horrific thought forming in his mind, Duncan handed the reins to Beth and eased himself from the saddle. The doctor was slumped forward over the pommel. “Watch him,” he cautioned Beth.

  Beth laid a hand on her father to secure him where he was. “Duncan.”

  He turned to look at her.

  Beth pressed her lips together, a strange unease slipping through her. “Take care.”

  He nodded and silently approached the cottage. Crouching, he took care to stay within the shelter of the trees until he had made his way to the side. Only when he was beneath the window did he attempt to rise and look in. By then, he was out of sight of the others.

  The moments trickled by slowly. With each second, Beth could feel herself growing more and more anxious, as if she was a ball of yarn being wound too tightly. Her throat felt dry and parched, and it wasn’t thirst that was making it so.

  It was fear.

  She turned toward Jacob. “What’s taking him so long?” she whispered.

  Jacob was used to waiting. Duncan always returned, no matter where he went. “Perhaps it isn’t safe to enter yet. Duncan doesn’t like to take unnecessary chances.”

  Then what’s he doing here? Beth pulled a hand through her hair. She saw her father slip a little and she muttered an oath at her own carelessness. She steadied him, then looked toward Jacob. This couldn’t continue. She couldn’t take much more waiting.

  “If he doesn’t return in another minute, I am going to see what’s keeping him.”

  Jacob looked distressed and torn between loyalties. “Duncan wouldn’t like that.”

  Beth blew out a long breath. The devil take what Duncan liked.

  “Well, I don’t like sitting here and waiting. Worrying,” she added in a whisper. Enough was enough. She leaned toward Jacob, the reins to all three horses in her hand. “Jacob, hold the reins—“

  Reluctantly, Jacob reached over to accept them. He bit his lower lip, knowing this was wrong. The next moment he started as a figure emerged from the trees to their right.

  Duncan.

  But a Duncan he had never seen before. There was a look in his eyes that had Jacob shrinking back without realizing it.

  Duncan swung up onto his horse. “Give her back the reins, Jacob, we’re leaving.”

  Beth stared at him. What was he saying? “But my great-aunt—“

  He took the reins of h
is horse from her. “We cannot take her with us.” Thank God the man was past hearing, he thought.

  But Beth wouldn’t leave. Stubbornly she remained where she was. “Why?”

  He turned to look at her then, and she saw it, the look of death in his eyes. The same look that had been in the woman’s eyes yesterday. The one on the cart holding the infant.

  “Don’t ask me questions, Beth. Let’s go,” he growled out the order.

  But before he could kick his heels into the horse’s flanks, she placed her hand on his. “Duncan, what did you see?”

  He closed his eyes then, and for a moment, he thought he was going to weep. “A sight I shall forever be glad you didn’t see with me.”

  Horror consumed her like a never satiated monster. “She is dead?” The words spilled from her numbed lips.

  Duncan gave one short nod. “Someone must have informed on Therese.” His breathing grew quick and shallow as indignation beat in his breast. “Robespierre’s vengeance is not pretty.”

  Tears fought to gain the surface. Somehow, she managed to repress them. She looked over her shoulder at the cottage, then grabbed Duncan’s arm. “We can’t just leave them. We have to bury them.”

  He didn’t want to tell her, but if he didn’t, she’d go back herself. He knew her. And he couldn’t allow her to see what he had seen.

  “There isn’t enough left to bury, Beth.” He saw the shock wash over her face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

  Beth nodded and kicked her heels into the horse’s flanks.

  She thought she was going to be ill, but the will to live, to bring her father to safety, strengthened her resolve and kept her in the saddle as they rode, relentlessly, to the harbor.

  They stopped only once to rest the horses. Duncan helped Philippe and Andre down and leaned each against the trunk of a tree for support.

  He looked at the way Andre sat slumped against the bark. Duncan shook his head. “I don’t know if he can make it,” he told Beth.

  Philippe accepted the water pouch Jacob urged on him. He took but a few sips, knowing he could not sate his thirst quickly. It was a thirst that had been weeks in the making. He looked toward Duncan.

  “He will make it,” Philippe told him weakly. “He is a strong boy.” He shut his eyes wearily, only vaguely aware that Beth had sunk down beside him. He felt her hand on his arm. Philippe fought against the tears of a broken man. “Oh God, Beth, the things I have seen. They will stay with me forever.”

  When he opened his eyes, he had the look of a man who had aged a decade. “I want nothing more than to leave this Godforsaken land and forget I was ever French. I cannot believe you saved me. My beautiful daughter.”

  She closed her hand over his. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you, Father. We will be away from here soon, I promise.”

  He had come along blindly, too weak to even form questions. But they came to him now.

  “But how did you get here? Why did your mother allow you to come?” His eyes searched her face for answers. “And who are they—?”

  There was so much to tell him, but now was not the time. They had to be off again. “All in good time, Father, when you are better. For now, you are safe and we must get to the harbor.”

  Beth rose as Duncan brought the horses over once more.

  The captain of the Silver Ram looked at the bedraggled group before him with scorn. His ship was set to sail within the next twenty-four hours, and he had no time to waste with beggars.

  “I make no charity runs.” Contempt hummed in his voice as he attempted to push them out of his way.

  Duncan’s temper was at its very end. “What the bloody hell is he saying, Beth, and quickly, before I feed his teeth to him one at a time.”

  He looked prepared to do it, she thought. They were all tired and angry, but this was not the way to get on board. She laid a hand on his.

  “His men,” she cautioned Duncan, “whether they like him or not, will avenge him. You should know that better than anyone.”

  He knew, but that didn’t cool his temper.

  Beth turned her eyes on the captain. He was regarding her with open curiosity now, and a goodly amount of interest. He was always willing to avail himself of a little pleasure, and she looked ripe for the taking, despite the condition of her clothing.

  Beth cut off his path with her body. “We ask for no charity, only that you take us aboard. You will be paid.”

  The smile that sliced his face was oily and made her want to wash. “I will see this payment now.”

  She knew exactly what he was asking for, and refrained from translating for Duncan. Instead, she beckoned for Jacob to step forward.

  “Jacob, the saddlebag.”

  Jacob handed it to her. She held it out and opened one side, allowing the captain a look inside. There were still gold coins left within, far more than necessary to secure passage for five people and two horses.

  Gold was far more profitable than a few minutes lost in the arms of pleasure. The captain placed his hand on the saddlebag. “I will just take—“

  “—Us to Dover,” Beth concluded with a smile.

  The captain’s eyes grew wide as he realized that beneath the saddlebag there was a dagger pointed at him and it was close to piercing his skin.

  He saw by the look on the tall one’s eyes that he was the one who held it.

  Duncan smiled easily. “Tell him it’s pointed at his belly and if he wants to ever feel it filled with rum again, he had better set sail.” Duncan held the man’s eyes prisoner. “Now.”

  There was an urgency to the last word. This much the captain understood.

  Beth relayed the message quickly in French. The captain turned pale and trembled. He nodded as he backed away from the point of the dagger. Quickly, he gave the order to his men to cast off.

  The sailors upon the deck looked at him quizzically, but they knew better than to question the captain.

  Duncan and Jacob led Philippe and Andre on board while Beth took the horses.

  “Not the animals,” the captain cried in disgust. He saw Duncan rest his hand upon the hilt of his sword. Duncan tossed the captain another gold coin, which the latter caught handily.

  With a shake of his head, the captain retreated.

  The Silver Ram put out to sea within the quarter of the hour.

  Chapter Forty

  Beth spent the journey back to Dover below deck, tending to her father and Andre. She cared for both of them as tenderly as if they were but children and she the mother.

  Both were weak from starvation, their bodies nearly broken from the torture to which they had been subjected. There were welts upon her father’s back and chest that brought hot, angry tears to Beth’s eyes.

  “In the past, Beth,” her father whispered, slipping in and out of consciousness, though he fought hard to stay awake. “It’s all in the past. There is the future still before us.”

  Beth clung to that, for both of them.

  Andre fell into a fever. She did what she could for him and perforce left the rest up to God.

  And all the while, she thought of what Duncan wouldn’t tell her, of the horrible death her proud great-aunt had met. It was hard for Beth to keep hope in her heart with thoughts of all she had just seen lurking in the back of her mind like a festering, dark secret that threatened to overwhelm her.

  * * *

  Through the daylong journey across the Channel, Duncan remained on deck and on his guard. Though they had more than paid their way, Duncan wanted to ensure that the captain would not attempt to exact revenge on them for the way they had gained his acquiescence.

  It would not have been a difficult matter to turn the ship around and head back to France.

  Duncan kept his eye on the ship’s wheel and his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  The captain needed no more than Duncan’s presence to understand the silent message being given him. Though in his heart, he would have enjoyed handing his passengers over
to the new order that haunted the realm in France, he knew that he would not live out the day such an occurrence came to pass.

  He took them to Dover. And lived.

  When he saw the English coastline shimmering on the horizon like a woman waiting for her man to return from the sea, his heart was filled with joy. Duncan hurried below deck and knocked on Beth’s cabin door.

  She was quick to open it. Her apprehensive look softened slightly when she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I want you to see something with me.” Taking her hand, he led her topside to the deck. Positioning her against the railing, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look,” he pointed. “There. England.” There was a proud echo in his voice.

  Tears glistened in her eyes and spilled freely down her cheeks as she looked.

  He heard the change in her breathing and turned her around to see for himself. He thought she’d be happy. “Beth, what’s the matter?”

  “I never thought I would be so grateful to see English soil.” She covered her mouth to keep back the sob of relief that welled in her throat.

  He laced his arm around her in silent comfort. Yes, he thought, he had forgotten how much she’d disliked the British and how she had initially felt about the things that had stood between them.

  There was a world of difference between them. And half a world that would yet come.

  But now was not the time to think on that, though the emotion tugged at him both urgently and sadly.

  They were the first to disembark from the ship, getting off before the cargo was unloaded and only moments after the ship had docked at the harbor. The captain stood off to the side and glared as he watched them leave his vessel.

  “We could stop at the inn,” Duncan suggested, though he would have preferred to be on his way.

  Beth was of the same mind as he.

  “No, I want to get to Shalott as quickly as possible,” Beth told him. She looked at her father and Andre. “They need bed rest.” She raised her eyes to Duncan’s. “Duncan, can we get a coach?”

  A coach would be slower, but he doubted that the boy would survive another long ride on horseback. And it would be easier to transport her father inside a coach as well.