Green Eyes

by Karen Robards

  If it ever did. Anna finished the sentence silently.

  Julian said nothing more for a moment. Then, “I’m going to turn over so that I’m lying on my stomach. It’s probably going to hurt you when I move, and for that I’m sorry. But …”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Anna said. Unspoken between them was the thought that, if he was unable to catch hold of some part of the pontoon as they fell, they would sink beneath the surface. Bound as they were, if that happened, they would almost certainly drown.

  “All right. I’m going to try to get my hands beneath me and push up. When I go up, you throw your weight as hard as you can to the right. I will, too. Maybe it will be enough to pitch us out of the canoe.” He hesitated, then, to her amazement, Anna thought she detected the tiniest touch of humor in his voice. “And, Anna, be sure to take a deep breath, hear?”

  “I hear.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  As Julian had warned her, the ropes cut unbearably into her sunburned skin as he twisted and squirmed onto his stomach. But she bit her lip, refusing to make so much as a single sound. He was hurting too, she knew. Like herself, he must be sunburned, and the ropes must be sawing into his skin like knives. And he had been terribly cut. How the seawater in the bottom of the canoe must burn in those cuts!

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Throw yourself to the right!” With that as a warning, he heaved himself violently up. Anna felt him buck beneath her and threw herself to the right as hard as she could. Her body scraped painfully against the side of the canoe—and then, miracle of miracles, they were going over the side.

  Only to sink just as abruptly under the surface. Just as Anna was sure they would sink forever, and end by drowning, their downward progress halted with a jerk. She felt the emeralds around her waist loosen, watched with a curious detachment as the stomacher floated in lazy spirals downward to join the velvet pouch, and then she was being pulled up again, toward the surface, until at last her head broke through the water and she was gasping for air.

  “Anna, we did it!” He was jubilant. Anna, hanging like a papoose from his back, smiled, only to wince as the movement caused her parched lips to stretch painfully.

  “We did, didn’t we?” She rested against him, trying not to notice that, with her weight against them, the ropes were cutting more painfully than ever into her tender skin. She must be bleeding.…

  But at least now they had a chance.

  As the sun climbed the sky Anna’s optimism faded. The ropes felt no tighter, but, although Julian doggedly tried to work his arms free, he seemed no closer to succeeding. Anna’s thirst was like a living thing inside her, eating her up. It was all she could do to resist the temptation to gulp seawater. That, she knew, was the worst thing she could do. The salt in it would literally dry her up.

  With her body safe beneath the water, only her face caught the sun. She supposed she should be thankful for that, but as her eyes swelled shut and her lips puffed and split she could not summon much gratitude.

  As hour upon blistering hour crawled by, she again found herself almost wishing to die.

  And then, as she squirmed about in an effort to ease the cutting pressure of the ropes, she felt something so unexpected that she had to squirm again to make sure.

  “Julian,” she said in the hoarse croak that was all she could manage now. “The ropes—I think they’re slipping! My leg is free!”

  She felt him kick, felt him make the same discovery—and then one of his legs was free, too. With the resultant loosening of the ropes, it was not long before Julian managed to free them both entirely. Gasping, Anna turned toward him, no longer able to smile but catching his hand and giving it a happy squeeze. With her broiled skin, even a hug would have been too painful.

  For the first time in two days he got a good look at her.

  “Your poor face,” he breathed, his eyes darkening as he took in the evidence of what she had suffered. Then his hand came up to gently touch her cheek. “I love you, Anna.”

  “I love you too,” she managed painfully.

  His eyes shifted to the emerald necklace, which was all that remained of the stones that had haunted him all his life.

  “Let’s get these bloody things off you,” he said, his fingers gentle against her damaged skin as he worked the clasp. When the necklace fell free, he caught it in one hand and tossed it into the canoe as if it were no more than a handful of pebbles.

  “We’re going to be all right,” he told her with fierce determination. “You’ll see.”

  And then he helped her back into the boat, where she tried to sit up but ended by lying shivering on the bottom, while he protected her from the rising sun as best he could with his own body, and used the sail to bring the little craft about, heading for land.

  The question was, would they make it in time? They had drifted with the current for nigh on two days. Without fresh water, they had another forty-eight hours at best. Anna especially was already showing signs of becoming delirious from dehydration.

  Julian gritted his teeth and grimly battled the delirium that threatened him as well. If he succumbed, they would both die. Her life depended upon his strength. And he could not, would not, let her die.

  Toward late afternoon the wind began to pick up. Dark clouds blew up on the horizon, and the canoe, under sail, fairly skimmed over the waves. Julian, watching, prayed as he had never prayed in his life.

  His prayers were answered. Even as he tilted his face to the sky he felt a spattering of rain.

  “Anna! Anna, wake up!” Holding the sail with one hand, he leaned down to shake her, wincing at the necessity of taking hold of her sun-broiled skin. As fair as she was, she had burned much more severely than he had. After a moment she roused, looking at him as if she did not quite know who he was.

  She had been without water for two and a half days.

  “It’s raining!” he told her urgently even as the heavens opened and an icy deluge descended upon them. “Sweetheart, it’s raining!”

  When she still didn’t seem to comprehend, he lashed the sail, cupped his hands, and ladled fresh water into and over her until at last he was satisfied that she had had enough for the moment.

  Then he freed the sail, and, making use of the wind and the rushing current and every bit of sea lore he had ever learned, he headed their craft for land.

  When at last he heard the roar of breakers and saw the white foam of waves crashing against the shore, he felt tears fill his eyes.

  They had made it! He gave thanks to the God that he had not really, until now, believed in.

  Then he lowered the sail and allowed the canoe to catch the waves. Riding on the crest of one, the craft traveled swiftly until its bottom gently skidded against sand. Then Julian, with his last bit of strength, scooped Anna up from the bottom of the canoe and gently carried her ashore.

  The emeralds lay forgotten in the bottom of the canoe as tears of thanksgiving mingled with raindrops to wet his face.

  Epilogue

  A little more than a year later, Lord and Lady Ridley stood arm in arm on the terrace at Gordon Hall. It was early March, but the weather had continued unseasonably warm for the past few days. On the manicured path below them a little blond girl skipped and sang with her new playmate, the gatekeeper’s son. The child was dressed warmly in a velvet pelisse and bonnet, but the late-afternoon sun made the garments almost unnecessary. The temperature was far closer to spring than winter.

  Anna watched her daughter’s antics with a smile. Really, it was good to see Chelsea so happy and well-adjusted at last. When they had found her after their nightmare experience, she had been dressed as a coolie child and her hair had been crudely dyed a muddy brown. Hidden away with Ruby in the heart of Kirti’s village with the ayah and her entire clan standing guard, the little girl had been almost catatonic with fright. Seeing her mother, Chelsea had burst into noisy tears and clung as if she would never let go. Despite the pain of her injurie
s, Anna had clung to Chelsea, too. Each had feared never to see the other again.

  Jim had been equally overjoyed to see Julian. He had spat and declared that he had known his Julie was too tough to kill, even as he had turned away to wipe what he called “those bloody cinders” from his eyes. It seemed that he had been, as Julian had instructed, keeping an eye on Graham, when Graham had suddenly turned back halfway alone the road to Colombo. Jim, caught by surprise, had lost his quarry, only to discover him again hours later when he had given up the search and headed home to Srinagar. Graham had been in the act of dousing the rear veranda with fuel—and had, when surprised in the act, dealt Jim such a ferocious blow with a shovel that Jim had been unconscious for most of the night. When he had recovered his senses and made his way back to the house from the jungle where he had been dragged and left, it had been to find nothing left but a burned-out, still-smoking shell.

  What had become of Julian and the rest, he could only imagine. And what he had imagined had not been pretty.

  Julian had whisked them all out of Ceylon so quickly that there had barely been time for Anna to say good-bye to anyone. She did manage a word for Charles, who was shocked by the news of what had happened to them. He was not, however, altogether surprised when Anna told him of her intention to marry Julian. He said he had seen it coming for some time, and was resigned to her loss. He managed to wish her happy before Julian pulled her to the waiting carriage by main force, but there was no time for anything more. Julian was determined to get them to Colombo, and from there aboard a ship to England, with the smallest possible delay. Almost losing Anna had frightened him, and he was determined not to risk such a thing again.

  That she was even permitted to take leave of Charles was only because Julian felt they should warn the English community of the killers in their midst and apprise Charles or what had befallen Srinagar. Charles, suitably horrified, had promised to do what he could to round up those responsible and to alert the other colonists to the danger. In the last communication that they had had from him, he had reported that Raja Singna had vanished. They continued to look for him, but Anna, who was thoroughly familiar with both Sinhalese justice and Raja Singha, doubted he would ever be found.

  Graham had been buried in the plot beside Paul, Anna took some comfort from the notion of the two brothers facing eternity together.

  Julian, having recovered somewhat from his ordeal, had determined not to relinquish his birthright if there was any chance he might be able to claim it. After several weeks of racking his brain, he had at last remembered the name of the vicar who had signed his parents’ marriage lines. After that, the task had been easy. The vicar was retired, but his name was still on church records, and the marriage itself was still recorded on the parish registry. With the help of Graham’s erstwhile solicitor, Julian was duly confirmed as Lord Ridley.

  The visit to the solicitor had another consequence as well: Julian at last discovered who had sent the note about the proof being in the emeralds. It seemed that the solicitor’s father had been old Lord Ridley’s solicitor. It was this gentleman whom Anna and Paul had seen arguing with the old lord in the library all those years ago. The disagreement had been over Lord Ridley’s wanting to set aside an early, secret marriage that had produced a son; a son who, if allowed to remain legitimate, would be his heir instead of his dearly beloved Graham. The solicitor, disapproving, had refused to cooperate. It was he who, having seen where Lord Ridley kept the proof of his first son’s legitimacy, sent the note to Julian. He said that he couldn’t keep quiet any longer after the old lord’s death. His conscience would not let him rest. Julian had thanked the man and offered him monetary recompense for his trouble. The old gentleman had told him that it was reward enough merely to see justice done.

  With Anna and Chelsea, Julian had traveled down to Gordon Hall to take his place as the true, rightful Lord Ridley. Ruby took up residence in the dower house, while Jim continued to come and go as he pleased. Graham’s wife, Barbara, was generously provided for by Julian and took up residence in London, where it was assumed she hoped to assuage the grief of her widowhood by speedily taking a second husband.

  Anna’s injuries had been minor and, except for her skin, had healed in a matter of a week or so. Her skin, severely burned, had swollen and blistered, then flaked and peeled, until she had despaired of ever looking like herself again. But finally, about halfway through the voyage home to England, her skin had regained enough of its normal appearance to make her feel able to appear in public without self-consciousness.

  It was then that she had wed Julian, in a shipboard ceremony conducted by the captain. Jim had given her away, and Ruby and Chelsea had been her attendants. The wedding had been attended by nearly every passenger and crew member on the ship.

  “Miss Anna—I mean, my lady—here’s someone who wants to see you.”

  Anna turned and smiled at Mrs. Mullins, who emerged through the French windows behind them with a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. The newly hired nursemaid trailed jealously behind, but Mrs. Mullins had claimed little Christopher Scott Traverne as her own when the infant was not in his mother’s arms. In consequence, the nursemaid had little to do, and resented the housekeeper according.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Mullins. Hello, sweetheart.” Anna held out her arms for her son, but Julian took the baby, holding him gingerly as befitted the new father of a child less than a month old. His grin was warm as he looked down at the tiny form, with a shock of black hair and deep blue eyes so much like his own. As the baby stared boldly back, Julian reached down to tickle his chin. Little Christopher promptly grasped his father’s finger and attempted to put it in his mouth.

  “I think he’s hungry.” Julian quickly handed the baby over. Anna was smiling as she took her son into her arms. Julian as a father was absurd—and absurdly lovable.

  When she had told Julian that he was going to be a father, he had been delighted. Then, when the realization that she was actually going to give birth, in pain and suffering, had burst upon him, he had been terrified. But had held up surprisingly well, although to get him through the night of the delivery Jim had had to pour pints of whiskey into him. Still, by the following morning, both father and son had been doing well.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go feed him.”

  As Anna took the baby back into the house, Julian ran down the steps to play with Chelsea and her friend. Anna, smiling, was content to let him go. Chelsea had come to adore Julian, and she was fascinated with her tiny brother. She had ceased to grieve for Paul at last and even spoke of him sometimes, as someone she fondly remembered.

  Anna’s world, like Chelsea’s, was whole again. Her heart was full of Julian and her children. Her life pleased her well, and she was happier as Julian’s wife than she had ever dreamed she could be.

  When the baby had finished eating—he was a greedy little thing, nursing quickly and eagerly—she passed him over to the nursemaid to be put down for his nap. The girl bore him off with a triumphant sniff at Mrs. Mullins, who harrumphed in her turn. Anna, ignoring these signs of incipient warfare, buttoned up her bodice and went back outside in search of Julian.

  She found him down by the lily pond, engaged with Chelsea in an earnest attempt to catch a bullfrog. As Anna appeared, Chelsea’s friend proposed building a frog trap, although exactly what he envisioned Anna was afraid to inquire. Still, Chelsea was enthused about the idea, and Julian was grinning as he climbed the bank to join his wife.

  “They’ll probably both fall in and get soaked to the gills,” Julian predicted comfortably as the children ran off in search of the necessary materials.

  “Or else they’ll catch the hideous thing, and Chelsea will beg to keep it as a pet.” The nursery at Gordon Hall was already home to an odd assortment of such creatures.

  “How’s my son?” There was such pride in Julian’s voice that Anna had to smile at him.

  “Your son is just fine, although Mrs. Mullins and Lisette my come to b
lows.”

  “Do you think that girl is experienced enough? We could get someone else.…”

  “She’s fine,” Anna said firmly, having learned already that Julian was subject to a new father’s anxiety more than most. He worried about everything from the length of the baby’s naps (should he be sleeping this much?) to the amount of spitting up little Christopher did (he’ll starve to death at this rate!). Anna, though she occasionally rolled her eyes, did what she could to soothe his concerns, and hoped fervently that the terrors of fatherhood would soon wear off.

  “You’re looking beautiful, as usual.” Julian, distracted from his concern for Christopher, leaned forward to give his wife a kiss. Anna settled against him, letting her arms slip around his neck as her lips parted in response. It had been so long since they’d made love that his slightest touch could arouse her to a fever pitch. There’d been that whole month before the baby’s birth, and then the four weeks after, Julian was afraid of hurting her, she knew, but she was healed now, and her body throbbed for him whenever he was near. Perhaps this afternoon.…

  Julian put her away from him and was regarding her strangely.

  “What is it?” Anna asked, perplexed by his expression.

  “It just came back to me,” he answered, which told her nothing at all, “when the sunlight hit your hair.”

  “What just came back to you?”

  “When I first met you, I thought that I had seen you before. I suddenly remembered where.”

  “Well where?”

  “Right here, by the pond. You must have been about six years old. It was when I came down here to confront my father, and he had me thrown out and beaten. I finally picked myself up from the road and started walking. I ended up in that copse of trees over there.” He pointed to a nearby orchard. “I was lying there—I wasn’t up to walking any farther—and you ran into the trees after your ball. You saw me and came up to me and asked me if I was all right. I looked up at you, and the sun was glinting off your hair. I can remember those big green eyes staring at me so gravely.… Then Paul ran up and took your hand. I hated Paul, who had everything I ever dreamed of having, including a little fairy girl for a playmate. I felt like a beggar child with his nose pressed to the window of a candy shop, always on the outside looking in. And I told you two to get the hell away from me, and you did.”