A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2)

by Irina Shapiro

“Get out, you little bastard, and stay out of my sight. If you let any of this reach Valerie’s ears, I swear, I’ll kill you.” Valerie heard something crash as Alec shoved Charles out the door and slammed it behind him.

  “Ah, Valerie. I hope you are having a pleasant evening.” Charles adjusted his collar and walked past her, smiling and whistling a merry tune. Valerie felt the ground shift beneath her feet as the floor rushed up to meet her.

  Chapter 25

  “Valerie, love, wake up. Valerie. Bridget, fetch some smelling salts right away. She’s fainted.” Alec was bending over her, cupping her cheek, a look of worry in his eyes. “Can you hear me?”

  “I can hear you, and I heard Charles. Now leave me alone and go find Finn. He hasn’t come home for supper.” Valerie covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Did Charles really know something? Had Alec slept with Cora? Valerie shook her head. No, it wasn’t possible. Alec had always been faithful to her. She’d never even seen him glance at other women, but he did refer to Cora as a ‘special girl.’ What had he meant by that? Would Alec kill Cora if she threatened to tell?

  Valerie allowed Bridget to help her up and take her to her room. Alec still stood there, frozen with shock, but Valerie waved him away. Finding Finn was a priority. Everything else would come later. Alec finally sprang into action and ran down the stairs, calling for a torch. He would get a few of the field workers and organize a search party. They would find Finn. They had to.

  Valerie allowed Bridget to remove her gown and slip a nightdress over her head. She needed to lie down, but she was too agitated.

  “Let me brush out yer hair. It will soothe ye.” Bridget picked up the brush and began to brush gently, singing some lilting Irish tune about lost love and missed opportunities. Valerie tried to relax, but she simply couldn’t. This was too much. The idea that something happened to her son and that her husband might be an adulterer, and a murderer was simply too much for her. She dissolved into tears, burying her face in Bridget’s apron.

  “Oh, hush now. They’ll find him. Ye just wait and see. Mr. Finn is a smart lad. He wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Hush.” Bridget stroked Valerie’s head, trying to calm her down. “Why don’t ye lie down and get some rest? Ye have to think of the baby.”

  “Lie down with me, Bridget. I can’t be alone right now.”

  Chapter 26

  Every minute felt like an hour as the afternoon began to turn into evening. The wind had dropped, leaving the sails limp and sagging above their heads; eliminating any chance they had of outrunning the pirate ship. Louisa felt strangely worn out despite the fact that all she did was pace the deck in her agitation. The captain was on the bridge, spyglass in hand, which was just a charade since everyone could see the pirate ship with the naked eye now. Their ship was different than their own. It was longer and lower, with only two masts and long oars extending from the hull. The oars moved in mesmerizing unison as the vessel drew closer and closer. She could see the pirates moving around on deck, climbing the rigging as they prepared to attack, and there was no doubt they would attack. Their gun ports were open, black mouths of cannon yawning, ready to rain fire on their vessel.

  The sailors of the Gloriana were ready too. Everyone was in a heightened state of excitement, especially Mrs. Collins, who ran around like a chicken without a head, clucking non-stop. Anne Collins was down below, lying down, with her father for company, and Reverend Blackley kept trying to organize a group prayer to beseech God to spare them. No one paid him any attention, as everyone went about the business of preparing for the attack. Louisa saw Christopher leave the bridge and come down to the deck.

  “Louisa, I want you to go to my cabin. It’s on the side facing away from the pirate ship. I think it might be safer than yours. Take Agnes and stay out of sight until the fighting is over.” Louisa looked at the sword at his side. He hadn’t been wearing that before.

  “I have a dagger in my boot as well,” he said, following her gaze. “We are as ready as we’ll ever be. Just do your best to stay hidden. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”

  Louisa nodded. She had no idea what staying safe meant when being fired upon by cannon, but it’s what he wanted to hear, so she promised. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. She had no control over anything and couldn’t do anything to help. The least she could do was follow orders from someone who presumably had been through something like this before. She was about to tell him that when he bent down and gave her a tender kiss.

  “Please, stay safe. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.” She watched him walk away, the taste of his lips still on hers, then went down to get Agnes.

  The first shot was fired just as dusk melted into a moonless night. Louisa felt the ship shudder as impact was made and closed her eyes, praying. She hadn’t prayed like this in a long time, but her lips moved silently, begging God to help them. Agnes was crying and crossing herself also, her eyes huge in her face; her cheeks wet with tears.

  Time stood still as they waited for the second blast to come. Louisa felt the floor go out from under her as she fell against the berth, hitting her shoulder. Agnes fell on top of her, still screaming in terror. The shots came regularly after that, but Louisa couldn’t tell if they were from the pirate ship or from their own guns. The booming of cannon was so loud, she couldn’t make anything out. The cabin was like a separate universe where only the two of them existed, clinging to each other and praying for deliverance.

  Louisa wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but suddenly, all fell quiet. She could smell smoke and then she heard it –- the sound of numerous feet hitting the deck.

  “Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” wailed Agnes. “We’ve been boarded.”

  Louisa could hear the screeching of steel and the screams of wounded men from up above, as the fighting became man to man rather than gun to gun. She had bolted the cabin door, but the lock seemed very flimsy, not nearly enough to keep anyone out. She didn’t know how long they sat there, huddled on the floor, but it felt like ages.

  A loud thunk just outside the cabin brought Louisa back to her senses, prompting her to unlock the door just a crack. One of the Gloriana sailors was lying at the bottom of the steps, a jeweled dagger protruding out of his chest. His linen shirt was soaked with blood, which appeared black in the dimness of the narrow passage. The man was still alive, moaning pitifully and mouthing something to her. Louisa wanted to help him, but had no idea what to do. She couldn’t see anything from her spot at the bottom of the stairs, but she could hear the clanging of swords and the occasional shot being fired. Who was winning?

  Louisa knew she should have stayed put, but she had to see what was going on. She had to know. Louisa stepped over the now dead sailor and climbed a few steps to get a view of the deck. She froze with shock as she saw the carnage unfolding above her head. The deck was swarming with pirates, more coming over the side at an alarming rate. The crew of the “Gloriana” was vastly outnumbered.

  Men in turbans and embroidered kaftans were everywhere, their faces indistinguishable from one another in the darkness of the night. The deck was littered with the dead and wounded from both sides; bloodstains black and slick on the scrubbed wooden surface. Louisa frantically searched for Christopher. She couldn’t find him, but she knew he was out there somewhere in the thick of it. Captain Fellowes was up on the bridge, deftly wielding his sword, as he repelled two corsairs who were advancing on him with their deadly weapons. He was pretty agile for a man of his girth, but he couldn’t hold them off indefinitely. Louisa turned away, unable to look, as the pirates backed him up against the railing of the bridge.

  Narrowed black eyes were watching her as she turned back to the deck, a sly smile spreading beneath the thick, curled moustache of the pirate. He made for the stairs, his sword reflecting the meager light of the stars. All thoughts fled Louisa’s head as she nearly fell down the steps and raced back to the cabin. Her hands shook so badly she could barely slide t
he bolt into place, but eventually she got it. Agnes was in the corner, moaning softly and hugging her middle.

  “They’ll kill us, I know they will,” she wailed.

  The door began to creak and heave as the man put all his weight against it. Louisa looked around desperately for some kind of weapon. Didn’t Sheridan keep anything in his room? She should have pulled the dagger out of the dead sailor, but she hadn’t been thinking, just feeling. The only thing of any use she saw was a pewter candlestick. Much good it would do her. Louisa tightened her fingers around the candlestick, raising it above her head. A candlestick against a cutlass. Her chances couldn’t be worse.

  The door gave way with the sound of splintering wood, revealing the men behind it. There were two of them now; their swords raised high above their heads as they examined their find. One man murmured something to the other, and they lowered their swords, slowly advancing into the cabin. They wouldn’t hurt them for fear of ruining the merchandise. Louisa backed away, still clutching the candlestick. Her heart seemed to have stopped beating, as she took in the sharp swords and evil smiles of the men who were obviously pleased with their discovery.

  Agnes was still wailing in the corner, while Louisa inched away from the men toward the porthole. She wanted to scream, but her lungs felt empty of air, her throat parched and constricted. She had never felt such overwhelming fear in her whole life. One of the men pulled out a length of rope from his trouser pocket, probably to tie their wrists with, and advanced further into the room. He showed Louisa the sword and then ran his finger across his throat, indicating that he would kill her if she resisted. The whites of his eyes and his teeth were the only things that Louisa could make out in his dark face, but she could smell him. The pirate reeked of stale sweat mixed with something like cumin and mint.

  Louisa was so fixated on the sword, that she barely noticed the man whip around in panic. The second corsair, who stood just behind him, suddenly let out a gurgling noise as the tip of a sword appeared out of his belly. Louisa must have screamed, but she was drowned out by the animal cry of the dying man. Blood poured over the embroidered kaftan and onto the floor of the cabin, as the man slid to the floor face down; dead as a doornail.

  Louisa saw a shadow in the doorway as Christopher Sheridan lunged at her attacker. She ducked out of the way just in time as the pirate swung his sword, bringing it down on the first mate’s shoulder with all his strength. Christopher’s sleeve turned black as his blood soaked the fabric, but he was still fighting, his eyes blazing with fury. Louisa watched in horror as the pirate backed away from Christopher toward her, his cutlass raised high above his head. She stepped back and tripped over Agnes. Louisa tried to break her fall by grabbing on to the table beneath the porthole, but the pirate let out a horrible scream and fell backward, knocking her sideways. As Louisa’s head hit the table, the world went quiet and dark.

  Chapter 27

  Alec sat down on a fallen log, trying to get his bearings. The forest around him felt sinister and alive; the leaves rustled above his head as an owl hooted somewhere in the distance. Small animals darted here and there, breaking twigs or moving branches. Alec heard a howl somewhere not too far off. There were wild animals in the forest, ones that wouldn’t hesitate to pounce on a boy and tear him to shreds. The wolves never came near the house, but they were out there, in the darkness; waiting.

  They had been searching for hours, but there was no sign of Finn. If they’d set out during the daytime he would be able to track him, to follow his path, but right now, whatever trail he left was lost in the darkness and trampled by numerous feet. Alec had two men with him, as did Charles. He refused to go with his brother after the accusations he made. Alec felt a wave of fury build up inside him. As if it wasn’t bad enough that his brother thought him a fornicator and a murderer, Valerie had heard the whole thing. Did she really believe that he was capable of such things?

  She had seen you kill Finlay; a voice inside his head reminded him. That had been completely different, but killing was killing. Alec still mourned his brother every day. He would have never let him die, had he thought there was even the slightest chance of clearing him of the charge of treason. “I wish you were here Finlay. I miss you so much,” whispered Alec into the silence of the night. “If you are out there somewhere, please help me and lead me to the boy.”

  Alec got up and joined the other two men, who just finished having a piss and were talking quietly among themselves. “I think we should continue north,” Alec said.

  “Mr. Whitfield, if we go any farther North, we will be entering Indian Territory. You know full well how they deal with white men.” The two men hung back, looking fearful and unsure.

  “You are probably right. Finn wouldn’t have come this far anyway. We need to spread out so we can cover more ground. Stanley, you go east and I will go west. Bixby, retrace our steps and see if we missed anything. Search under every bush, in every ditch, and look up at the trees. Maybe he climbed up to get away from something.” Alec turned and walked off into the trees. He had to find Finn, and he had to find him alive. If anything happened to him, Valerie would never recover. She was probably going out of her mind, desperate for news. He hoped they’d find Finn soon.

  Alec searched in vain for another couple of hours, but he found nothing. He was tired and thirsty, his chest aching with worry and fear. He wasn’t Finn’s biological father, but he loved the boy from the moment he first held him in his arms when he was born. He was his beloved brother’s son, and he would gladly lay down his own life to save his. Where could he be? He must be hurt if he didn’t come home. Alec began walking again, calling out every few minutes and listening for an answer. All he heard were the sounds of the forest coming back to life with the arrival of dawn. The sky was beginning to grow lighter in the east and soon the sun would be fully up. Valerie would be frantic by now. Alec hoped she managed to get some sleep, but he knew better.

  Chapter 28

  Louisa opened her eyes and lay without moving. Her ears were ringing; her vision slightly blurred. The ceiling seemed to be strangely close to her head, every whorl and nick visible in the wood. She tried to remember what happened, but nothing came to mind. She felt as if her head was wrapped in cotton wool. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye as Agnes’s anxious face came into view. The girl was saying something, but all Louisa saw was the opening and closing of her mouth. The girl looked dreadful, her hair coming out of her cap, her bodice ripped and soiled.

  Louisa closed her eyes again and waited for the ringing in her ears to subside. It was replaced by another sound that she couldn’t quite place. It was the sound of quiet drumming.

  “What is that?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

  “’Tis rain, Miss. It’s been raining for a while now. ’Tis really coming down. Can ye move? I was afraid to move ye.” Agnes gripped Louisa’s hand, as if trying to tether her to reality.

  Louisa slowly realized that her head was, in fact, under the table where she fell and tried to sit up without hitting it again. Agnes brought a cup of water to her lips, urging her to drink. She took a sip and looked around. Slowly, memory began to return and Louisa shot upright as she remembered the dead corsair. There was no one there now, but there was a dark stain where the man had fallen; her own dress stained with ugly brown splotches of dried blood. She was about to ask Agnes what happened when Christopher Sheridan appeared in the doorway. His face and hair were dripping rainwater, his upper arm bandaged with a dirty blood-soaked cloth, but the look of relief on his face was unmistakable. He sank to his knees next to Louisa, caressing her face.

  “You are all right. Thank God. You hit your head hard when you fell down.” His eyes were full of warmth, and suddenly Louisa started to cry. Great sobs escaped her as she clung to Christopher. All the fear she had felt poured out of her, making her feel cleansed and free. He just held her close, his lips warm against her cheek. “You are safe now.”

  Christopher lifted Louisa off
the floor and sat her on the berth, taking a seat next to her. She leaned against him, letting him hold her and comfort her. Christopher drew her to him with his good arm and kissed the top of her head. “It’s all over. We beat them off.”

  “What happened?” Louisa wasn't sure she really wanted to know, but she had to ask.

  “We were overrun and outnumbered, but men do heroic things when fighting for their lives. Our sailors fought bravely, but we were losing, and fast, until Mr. Willis had an idea. He is a clever lad, that one. Their ship was very close to ours, but lower in the water, so Mr. Willis and Mr. Coyle threw several barrels of burning pitch onto their deck. The barrels smashed as they hit the deck, spreading the fire. Mr. Willis said he got the idea from fire ships. As the fire began to spread, they were forced to retreat. The reverend’s prayers must have been answered, since the wind began to pick up, and we were able to gain speed, leaving them behind to put out their fire. Captain Fellowes has been seriously wounded. He’s in his cabin with Mr. Willis.”

  Christopher winced as he moved his injured arm, but his eyes never left Louisa’s face. “How do you feel? Does your head hurt? Can you see normally?”

  “I think I’m all right. Just a bump. It’s a little tender, but nothing more. Are you in pain, Kit?” She realized what she called him as soon as the name left her lips, but she didn’t care. She wanted to call him that.

  “Not anymore.” His kiss was gentle and sweet, full of longing and promise. Kit pulled away and smoothed a stray lock away from her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I must tell you something, Louisa. We suffered a lot of casualties, but the worst part is that they took Miss Collins and her mother. The women ran up on deck during the fighting, and were gone before anyone could stop the pirates. They just dragged them to the other ship. They’re gone.”