The Captain's Caress

by Leigh Greenwood

  “He’s the spit of his mother, you blind fox. Now put your knife away. Is that the way to treat a man who’s let you camp on his land for I don’t remember how long?”

  “Must I remind you of the time I told my father’s keepers I was the one who shot the rabbits hanging from your belt?” Brent demanded, his eyes brimming with laughter.

  “Master Brent!” The dumbfounded Roberto went from murderous rage to joyful recognition in the twinkling of an eye. “I was sure you were at the bottom of the sea.” He helped Brent to his feet.

  “Or the bottom of some ditch,” added Madelena, and the joy of their reunion vanished.

  “What do you mean by that?” Brent asked, turning sober eyes on her.

  “You needn’t pretend with me. I know the earl strangled that old man. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “You saw Gowan murder Ben?”

  “Not the earl, stupid, Bailey and Ceddy. Strangled him with his own scarf and tossed him into the ditch. And don’t go thinking I could have told the sheriff what I’d seen because he’d never believe a gypsy.”

  “And the earl would have sent his cutthroats after us,” Roberto added. “I don’t doubt we could have taken care of our own, but there was no sense in getting cut up when you were dead and gone for all we knew. Why have you come back? It will take an army to drive him out.”

  “Nonetheless I mean to do it, but I need your help.”

  “Master Brent, you know we’d do anything we could for you, but you can’t even show your face without landing in jail.”

  “Gowan thinks I’m dead. He stole my wife and nearly killed me.” When Madelena and Roberto gaped at him, he laughed out loud.

  “What? Are you mad?” Madelena finally managed to say. “Why would he do a thing like that?”

  “Because I stole her from him first.”

  “You are mad.” Roberto was stunned.

  “Where is she now?” Madelena demanded, instantly consumed by curiosity.

  “At Glenstal.”

  “But that’s the earl’s wife up at the castle,” Roberto said, confused by the tangled story. “Everybody knows that she’s—Ow!” he howled as he received a well-aimed kick in the shins.

  “She’s absolutely beautiful,” Madelena finished the sentence for her afflicted husband. “But what you’re saying makes no sense. The only woman at the castle is the earl’s wife.”

  As Brent proceeded to tell his story, Roberto heard him out in speechless silence, but Madelena became so excited by the tale of romantic love that she could barely contain herself. “The marriage documents were never properly signed, so Summer was never legally Gowan’s wife,” Brent concluded. “It was a simple matter for Smith to get hold of the documents, substitute new ones with my name, and bribe a priest to attest that the marriage had taken place. Legally, I am Summer’s one and only husband.”

  “I’ve never heard anything more outrageous in my whole life.” Roberto shook his head.

  “What do you want us to do?” asked Madelena, ready to commit the whole caravan.

  “I don’t want you involved in the fighting. I’ve brought more than enough men to take on Gowan’s hirelings. What I want you to do is smuggle them in from the coast.”

  “That’ll be easy,” Roberto promised. “He’s afraid to go on your land alone, and even his own men are beginning to distrust him after the way he’s treated his young wife.”

  Madelena trod on Roberto’s toe, but he refused to be quieted. “He can’t go risking his neck without knowing everything, Madelena.”

  “Has something happened to Summer?” Brent was suddenly fiercely alert.

  “In a way it has,” Roberto said quickly to get the jump on his wife. “One night, some while back, there was a lot of screaming in the countess’s apartments, and when they broke down the door, the earl had stripped her mother-naked and was trying to beat her to death.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Brent raged, charging to his feet.

  “Nobody knows why he did it, but some think he went crazy when she told him she was going to give him an heir.”

  Madelena put out her hand to stop Roberto, but to her surprise Brent began to grin.

  “Tell me, how is the earl taking the news?”

  “They say he’s ready to cut the throat of anybody who even mentions that baby. The butler—”

  “Wigmore.”

  “—has organized the staff so she’s never alone with him.”

  “That’s my child she’s carrying.” Brent jumped to his feet. “I’ve got to get her out of there tonight.”

  “You’re crazy,” said Madelena. “You can’t burst in there and hope to get out alive.”

  “I know the castle almost as well as Gowan does.”

  “And how do you plan to get her away?”

  “On horseback of course. You’ve got some of the best horseflesh in Scotland right here.”

  “You’re not going to make a woman who’s eight months gone ride a horse across the moors at night?” Madelena was aghast. “She would lose the baby for sure.”

  “Then I’ll take a coach.”

  “And I’m sure you’ll drive slowly and carefully with Gowan’s men pursuing you,” Madelena said derisively.

  Brent was stymied.

  “You can’t even tell her you’re here,” Madelena added softly. “The shock might send her into early labor.”

  “Where do you plan to take her?” Roberto asked. “You can’t stay in Scotland, not even for one night.”

  Brent slowly sank to the ground, suppressed fury causing a blood vessel to bulge at his temple. He couldn’t rescue Summer until after she had the baby, and he couldn’t remain in Scotland unless he crushed Gowan. The happiness went out of his eyes and cunning took its place; he had not come back to run away again.

  “I don’t trust Gowan enough to wait until after she has the baby,” he decided.

  “That baby can’t be more than a month away.”

  “Then I’m going to have to get her out right away. Madelena, you’ll have to find some way to let her know I’m here. She must make ready to leave; I’ll steal inside the castle while Gowan’s out and be miles away before he can muster his forces. Then I can face him without fearing what he might do to Summer. How soon can you begin moving my men in, Roberto?”

  “Tomorrow. We’re having a spring fair, and caravans will be coming from all over. Your men would never be noticed among so many wagons.”

  “Madelena, I want you to find out everything you can about what goes on at the castle. I can’t give you more than two days.”

  “We need someone inside,” Madelena decided.

  “Wigmore.” Brent’s lips suddenly curved in a smile. “Can you contact him?”

  “You leave that to me,” Madelena declared confidently.

  “Come, let me introduce you to the others,” Roberto said. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “And a lot of planning,” Madelena added, squeezing Brent’s hand. “It’s good to have you home.”

  Chapter 44

  Summer was greatly relieved when the day for her escape finally arrived. She had continued to visit the tenants in spite of Bridgit’s and Lucy’s pleas to stop. “It helps me keep my mind off my troubles,” she always said. But that was only part of the reason; the long excursions into the countryside enabled her to map out her escape route.

  She finished her breakfast without breaking into tears, and refused once again to allow either woman to accompany her. “What can happen to me when I’m never off our land?”

  “You go wandering over to Windswept, too, and that’s a far piece.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about any more visits after this. The earl plans to take me to Edinburgh in two days. Is the food packed?”

  “I don’t know why you’re set on giving them enough for a month,” complained Bridgit.

  “Don’t be so stingy. No one in the castle will go hungry.” Summer smiled to herself as she drove down the rough
cart tracks, remembering Bridgit’s loud assertion that she wasn’t wanting the food for herself, and if the countess thought she ate too much, she was surprised she hadn’t been told of it already. As long as Bridgit was in a huff, she wouldn’t sit by the window; Summer didn’t want anyone to start looking for her too soon.

  In her purse was enough money to purchase her passage and to provide for her and the baby until she reached her old home. A chuckle escaped her as she imagined the uproar that would ensue when she didn’t return that evening. She had chosen a hiding place in the opposite direction from the farmhouse she was supposed to be visiting and on the road toward the coast. She had already visited her hiding place and had left some old clothing there, garments originally intended for the almshouse. A farmer’s wife in an old wagon would attract less notice than a countess in a carriage.

  Long before the ten miles had been covered Summer was wondering if she shouldn’t have chosen some place closer, but shortly before noon she pulled up in front of the decaying farmhouse and let her weary arms fall to her sides. Her hands were swollen from holding the reins and every part of her shoulders and back ached, but she felt exhilarated. She had escaped.

  The house was situated well away from the lane and behind a belt of trees. It showed no signs of having been occupied for many years, but the roof was intact and the door could be closed and bolted. Her first task was to get the food inside. Then she must stable the horse and hide the wagon. Both were essential to her escape, but either one might betray her hiding place.

  The barn door sagged open on loose hinges. She drove the wagon inside, unharnessed the horse, and put him in a stall. She decided to see about closing the door later.

  By the time she had carried everything up to the sleeping loft of the farmhouse, she was completely exhausted. She made one final check for any signs of her presence, then pulled herself up to the loft and fell into an exhausted sleep on a straw pallet.

  Brent was glad he was alone when he first saw Windswept again. Memories of his parents rushed upon him, and tears that had remained unshed for ten long years fell when he saw his mother’s sitting room exactly as it had been when he’d last seen her alive. It was almost as though he had reached out and touched the past. He sat in her chair and let his stored-up grief escape its long bondage.

  “I am home,” he said to the empty room when his eyes cleared, “and I am here to stay.” He had a future to build, a life to make for his family. He would not forget the past, but never again would he be governed by memories.

  The sound of an approaching wagon caused him to hurry out one of the doors at the back of the house. He hadn’t gone twenty feet when he saw Madelena’s wagon traveling dangerously fast over the debris-strewn drive.

  “What do you mean driving like a madwoman?” he asked as she pulled up. “You’re liable to break an axle.”

  “The countess has disappeared from the castle. Tie your horse behind, and I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

  Brent wasted no time in useless questions. Within seconds he had the wagon turned around, and they headed back to the camp at a brisk trot.

  “The whole castle was in an uproar when I arrived,” Madelena said, holding on tightly as the wagon took a corner perilously fast. “The men had been out all night without finding the countess.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m getting to that. The countess planned to visit some tenants yesterday and she wasn’t expected back until late afternoon. When she didn’t return by dinnertime, the earl called for a fresh horse and every man he could mount. But the countess hadn’t been to the farm, nor had anyone seen her. They searched the roads until after midnight and were out again this morning, but they haven’t found a trace of her.”

  “What do you think happened to Summer?”

  “I think she’s run away.”

  “At such a time? Where could she possibly go?”

  “I don’t know. They say she’s been very secretive ever since the earl announced that he intended to take her to Edinburgh for the delivery of his heir.”

  “Do you think that’s significant?”

  “I don’t think the countess trusts Gowan.”

  “To drive a poor girl to have her child out in the open, alone and unprotected, is completely inhuman.”

  “I don’t think she’s in the open. I think she’s planned this for a long time. All that riding around the countryside wasn’t accidental.”

  “But where would she go?”

  “Where they won’t look for her, but in the direction in which she plans to escape. Louise said the countess’s household money is missing. I think she means to reach the coast and go back to her home.”

  “How could she possibly hope to hide from the earl? His men are everywhere.”

  “Not on your land,” said Madelena. “And your land is closer to the coast.”

  “Madelena, you’re a genius.” Brent gave her a kiss, then whipped the horse into such a gallop she was sure the wagon would rattle to pieces. “If the baby’s a girl, I’m going to name it after you.”

  “It’s going to be a boy.” Madelena held on for dear life. “And he’s going to look exactly like you.”

  “You’re a witch.” Buoyed by the knowledge that Summer was free of Gowan, Brent laughed. He fully intended to settle the score with Gowan, but that could wait until he’d found Summer.

  Fifteen minutes after they reached the gypsy camp every man and boy, and half of the women and girls were scouring the countryside in search of Summer’s hiding place.

  “If you run across any of Gowan’s men, discourage them from staying,” Brent had prompted his cohorts, but he’d stayed in camp, ready to deploy his men if necessary. He chafed at the feeling of uselessness, but he had been a leader too long to give in to the temptation to join the searchers. If he or his men were recognized, it would ruin everything.

  “Stay with me,” he told Madelena. “I’m no good with babies.”

  “Even the children know more about having babies than you do,” she teased. But as the afternoon wore on and the sun sank beyond the hillside, Brent’s patience wore thin and he subjugated each returning searcher to angry recriminations, driving some back into the dusk with orders not to return until they found Summer. When all but Roberto had wandered in exhausted and hungry, Brent made up his mind to go out himself. He couldn’t leave Summer alone and unprotected without trying to find her.

  “What do you think you can do in the dark?” Madelena chided. “My people know these hills like their own hands, yet they cannot find anything on this moonless night. Why should you be able to do more?”

  “I can’t stay here and do nothing while she may be at the mercy of any wild animal that roams these hills.”

  “I know it’s hard to wait,” Madelena said kindly, “but she’s safe where she is. You’ll do that child no favor if you kill yourself out there in the dark.”

  Brent unwillingly bowed to the wisdom of her argument.

  “She sounds like a remarkable girl, this wife of yours.” Madelena patted his hand reassuringly. “And smart too. She’s outmaneuvered Gowan for months. I think she can do it for one more night.”

  “You’re a jewel,” Brent said, his voice choked with emotion. “If I didn’t already love Summer so much, I’d run away with you.”

  “You’re through stealing other men’s wives,” Madelena scolded. “Hasn’t it gotten you into enough trouble?”

  Brent laughed, and some of the oppressive weight was lifted from his chest. He held Madelena a little tighter and stared into the empty blackness.

  Moments later they were wrenched from their abstraction by the horseman that galloped up to the campfire, sending dirt clods into the coals. The light revealed the taut features of Roberto.

  “Into the wagon,” he shouted without dismounting. “She’s at the old Smithurst farmhouse, and already in labor.” Brent would have saddled a horse for himself, but Roberto unceremoniously cut him short. “Drive the wagon.
She needs Madelena and Fiona more than she needs you.”

  They were out of the camp and swallowed up by the dark night in a trice. No one spoke. There was no moon to light the way so Brent had to concentrate on threading his way through the treacherous lanes. The women knew what Summer was suffering, and they hoped there would be no complications because it would be nearly two hours before they reached the farmhouse.

  Chapter 45

  It was nearly dark when Summer woke from her nap that first afternoon. She was so tired she went right back to bed as soon as she had taken care of her horse, but lying in the dark with nothing to do except listen for sounds outside the farmhouse caused her to become nervous and jumpy. She didn’t know who or what might be lurking in the woods or planning to use the farmhouse for a refuge.

  Telling herself not to worry before she had reason to do so, Summer took out bread and some slices of beef, but as soon as she attempted to swallow the first mouthful, she remembered she had gotten water from the well for the horse but not for herself. When she returned, she found the smell of food had attracted two field mice. Stifling an urge to back down the ladder, she stamped her foot to frighten the mice from the loft, and then sat down to finish her meal.

  When she had finished eating, she wrapped the food in a piece of oil cloth and tied it with a rope. Then, feeling along the rafters until she found a large nail, she looped the rope over the spike so the food hung well beyond the reach of any rodent.

  Satisfied with that arrangement, she decided to remake her bed. She piled up straw until it was two feet deep and then covered it with a thick sheepskin rug. One of the extra dresses she’d brought, folded up and doubled over, served as a headrest, and a heavy cloak pulled up to her chin provided warmth. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, but no matter what she did she couldn’t fall asleep; she found herself straining to listen for every sound.

  She was certain there was nothing to fear; nevertheless, she found herself trying to identify every noise. She had no idea who or what might attack her, but as the lonely hours crawled by, she wished her imagination were not quite so vivid.