Fortune's Bride

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by French, Judith E.


  Amanda jerked away and her face went taut. “Don’t ever ask me about that! Never. Never, do you understand.”

  Before Caroline could calm her or beg her pardon, Amanda fled the room. Caroline stared after her, troubled by more unanswered questions than ever before.

  Chapter 20

  Two hours after Amanda and Caroline left the dining room to retire for the evening, Noah and Eli carried Angus to his bed in the servants’ wing and went their separate ways. Noah had promised to meet Amanda; Eli mumbled drunkenly that he was tired and wanted to sleep. Garrett had remained at the table after Pilar cleared away the dishes, telling Noah that he intended to examine the Incan pieces closer.

  Noah left the house with a lighter heart. It was a cloudy night, and there was little moonlight. The evening air was heavy with the scent of jungle flowers and seaweed, and he was looking forward to a few stolen hours in Amanda’s company. Even though she wouldn’t allow him to make love to her, he found just being alone with her exciting. He was certain that with a little more urging, she’d agree to become his lawful wife.

  Earlier, the two of them had discovered a sparkling waterfall in a natural hollow, less than a mile from the manor. They’d decided upon that hidden spot for their tryst. But when he reached the cascade, Noah found it deserted.

  At first, he thought Amanda had had trouble slipping away from the baby. He waited for a few minutes, called her name again, then started back, expecting to come upon her on the overgrown trail. Again, he was disappointed. But as he neared the house, he caught sight of a figure on the beach. “Amanda?” he said, lengthening his stride.

  Instead of answering, she waded into the surf.

  “Amanda?”

  “Stay back, Noah.”

  He stopped short, realizing that the person he saw wasn’t Amanda. It was his brother. “Eli? What are you doing out here? I thought you were going to bed. Are you sick?”

  “Mind your own business.”

  Noah noticed that his brother had a sack over one shoulder. “What are you doing?” Noah repeated, starting forward. “What have you got there?” Something didn’t sit right. He pulled off his shoes and waded into the water. “Eli?”

  “Stay the hell away. I mean it!” Eli was up to his waist in the waves, walking toward Garrett’s moored sloop bobbing at anchor a hundred feet from shore.

  “Have you done something stupid?” Noah began to run. Eli splashed away, evidently struggling under the weight of whatever he had in the bag. “Eli!” Noah called. His longer strides closed the distance between them quickly. “Where do you think you’re going? And what—”

  His brother turned abruptly. Noah saw a flash in the moonlight and felt something cold bite into his flesh. “What—what?” He put his hand to his side and drew it away, sticky with blood. “Eli?” He felt sick and wanted to sit down . . . But how could he sit in the water? His mind was playing tricks. He was suddenly tired, and his eyelids felt heavy.

  “Damn you! Damn you to a bloody hell!” Eli screamed. “I warned ye! I warned ye, but ye wouldn’t listen! Ye didn’t pay me no mind—like always! Do ye think that because they let you sit at the same table with them, they think you’re as good as they are? It’s a trick—a trick to use you.”

  Noah blinked. Was that a knife in Eli’s hand? He clutched his ribs and swayed on his feet. “Did you knife me, brother?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Ye coulda come with me—ye coulda shared. But no!” Eli’s thin voice rose in twisted fury. “It was always him!” He shook the sack at Noah. “I’ve got somethin’ now. I’ve got something that will take me back to Africa and make me a king!”

  “Miss Caroline’s gold. You stole Miss—”

  “Hell with ’em, Noah. Hell with ’em all.” He laughed. “Ye were as stupid as he was. Who do ye think told the British who he was? Who do—”

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” Noah answered. “You. And you in Lewes. You lied when you said that merchant ship wasn’t guarded. It’s your fault the Osprey went down.”

  “Right, brother. And your fault you’re stupid enough to shed your blood for white men who don’t give a shit about us.”

  “I should have drowned ye long ago,” Noah replied hoarsely. “I knew you Were no good. But you were my brother, and I promised—”

  “You’re a fool. A knee-bendin’, white-ass-lickin’ fool. And you’re welcome to whatever slop they feed ye.” Eli flung the bag into the boat and climbed aboard. “Goodbye, brother. Don’t forget to kiss Massa Garrett’s foot when ye tell him his gold is long gone.” He began to pull up the anchor.

  “Eli. . .” Noah seized the trailing end of the bag and yanked hard. With a splash, it fell into the sea.

  “Damn you!” Eli yelled. He grabbed an oar and slashed it at Noah. “I’ll kill you!” he screamed.

  Noah dodged the blow and fell forward into the water. He came up coughing and grabbed for the hull of the boat. Eli slammed the oar down again.

  A musket shot rang out from the beach. Noah looked back to see Garrett running toward the water’s edge. “Garrett! Garrett! Stop him!” he cried. “Eli . . . Eli . . .” and then his knees buckled, and he slipped under the waves again.

  Garrett pulled Noah from the water and dragged him to the beach. It took all his strength, plus that of Caroline and Amanda, to get the black man back to the house and up on the dining room table, so that they could treat his knife wound. Garrett had nearly finished bandaging Noah when Caroline noticed that not all of the blood on the floor and table was Noah’s.

  “Garrett, you’re hurt,” she cried. Red soaked the back of his hair and ran down his shirt. “Your head.”

  He nodded. “Eli struck me from behind with something. I think it was the rum bottle. That’s how he stole the treasure.”

  “It’s my fault,” Amanda said. “If I’d only met Noah when I—” She broke off and blushed. “I mean that we . . .”

  “Where were you?” Noah asked weakly. “I went to the falls, but—”

  Amanda placed a hand on his forehead. “Shhh, don’t try to talk. I never left the house. I was upset over something Caroline and I—”

  “Discussed,” Caroline finished. “It’s all right, Amanda. I shouldn’t have asked you what I did.”

  “Eli’s gone with the boat and the gold,” Noah managed. “I’m sorry, Garrett. I didn’t . . .” Tears filled his large brown eyes as he related the extent of his brother’s treachery. “You were right,” he said, when he was through. “I was too soft on him. I should never have—”

  “Eli’s sins sit on his own shoulders,” Garrett said, clasping his friend’s hand. “The deaths of those good men lie on his soul, not yours. I should have been more wary of him. I suspected that he wasn’t trustworthy, but I still let him sneak up behind me and nearly split my skull.”

  “Lucky for us all that it’s such a hard skull,” Caroline observed. “It shouldn’t be hard to find the missing pieces of treasure in the morning. As heavy as the gold is, the tide shouldn’t carry it far. But even if we lose it, it doesn’t matter. There’s much more still below ground. But what do we do now without a boat? How do we get off the island?”

  “All in good time,” Garrett said. Caroline reached up to touch his bloody head and he flinched. “Ouch, don’t touch it,” he said.

  “Don’t be such a baby. You’ve just sewn up Noah’s side and he didn’t make that much fuss.”

  “You’re fortunate the knife struck a rib and glanced off,” Amanda said, stroking Noah’s forehead. “You could have been killed.”

  “I’m sure Angus and Pilar know where there’s another boat,” Garrett said. “Will you leave my damned head alone, woman,” he said to Caroline, stepping back.

  “It needs cleaning,” she said, “and maybe stitches.”

  “I’ll wash it in salt water and wrap it,” he replied. “I’ve suffered through one bout of your sewing. I’ll not stand still for another.”

  The three of them moved Noah to the couch. “Le
ave him to me,” Amanda said. “I’ll get his wet clothes off him, wash away the brine, and watch to see that he doesn’t start bleeding again.” She glanced at Pilar. “Bring me warm water, more soap, and towels.”

  “It looks as though you’re in good hands,” Garrett said. He rubbed his head. “I think I’ll get some sleep myself.”

  “Not without having that cut looked after,” Caroline said firmly.

  “You begin to sound like a wife,” he teased.

  “I need you in one piece,” she replied tartly. “We still have to get the rest of the treasure out of the cave, and you still have to get us back home to Maryland.”

  “It can’t happen soon enough to suit me.”

  She grimaced. “Then at least we’re agreed on one thing.” She pointed to a chair and reached for a clean rag to begin tending his injury. “And who knows, this may be the beginning of—”

  “Don’t set your cap for it,” he said. “For you are the most contrary female I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”

  “From you, I consider that a compliment.”

  “Enjoy it then. It may be the last you get from me,” he grumbled.

  She soaked the cloth in rum and began to pat the swelling on the back of his head with gentle fingers. “Be still,” she cautioned. “I may have to shave off some of your hair.”

  “The devil you will.”

  She couldn’t feel any broken bone, but the gash was a nasty one. “I should sew this,” she said.

  “Just bandage it,” he answered through clenched teeth.

  “Some privateer captain you are,” she said, “to be run aground by one puny man.”

  “He came at me from the back when I wasn’t expecting it.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  “You’re enjoying this,” he accused.

  “I am not,” she said. But she couldn’t help smiling, just a little, as she poured the remainder of the rum over his torn flesh.

  Once he was free of Arawak Island, Eli turned the sloop’s rudder in what he hoped was a north-west direction in an attempt to return to Port-au-Prince. But the wind and currents kept sweeping him south.

  By dawn, he realized how much trouble he was in. The bag Noah had pulled into the sea had contained not only the two pieces of treasure, but food and fresh water. Garrett’s sloop contained neither. All that day, he watched the clouds and the horizon, hoping for rain or sight of land.

  Just before evening, Eli lowered the sail and began to fish, using a bit of cloth as bait. He caught nothing, although he could see fish jumping all around the boat. After dark, he moistened his lips with salt water, then drank a few sips. When he felt no ill effects, he allowed himself a half cup. Minutes later, his stomach rejected the briny liquid, and he was violently ill.

  At noon on the second day—hopelessly lost and suffering from hunger and thirst—Eli spied a sail and waved his shirt to flag down the passing schooner. At first, he was afraid the ship wouldn’t stop, but at the last moment, the vessel came about. As the larger schooner approached, Eli saw that she flew a Spanish flag.

  “Help me!” he cried, when the ship was close enough to make out figures on the deck. “I need water! Something to eat!”

  As the distance closed between them, Eli noticed the dark faces of many of the crew. Some were merely tanned from sun and sea; others were half-caste or as black as Noah. He spoke no Spanish at all and hoped someone aboard the schooner understood English.

  “I’m trying to reach Hispaniola. Port-au-Prince! Do you understand?” He guided his sloop close to the Spanish ship and caught the line that a sailor threw him. A black-haired man in officer’s garb smiled and called a greeting in Spanish.

  “I need help to reach Hispaniola,” Eli repeated, feeling more confident now that the Spanish appeared friendly.

  Two crewmen dropped a rope ladder over the side, leading down to Eli’s lower boat, and the officer motioned for Eli to lash his sloop to the ship and come aboard. The sea was calm, but Eli wasn’t sure of his ability to do as the Spaniard requested. “I’m alone here,” Eli shouted. The sloop was difficult for one man to maneuver.

  The officer gave an order in his own language, and the two seamen who’d dropped the ladder scrambled down it. One went to the tiller; the second took hold of the line that joined the two boats and secured it.

  The breeze was blowing toward the sloop, and Eli caught a whiff of something foul. He wondered what cargo the schooner was carrying, and hoped there was no sickness aboard. “No sickness?” he shouted? “No plague?”

  “No! No!” the officer replied. Using gestures, he repeated his invitation for Eli to come aboard.

  Too thirsty to argue further, Eli climbed the ladder to the schooner’s deck. “You’ll be glad you stopped,” he said. “I’ll make it worth your while. I can tell you where there’s an island with a store of gold. More gold than—”

  The black-haired officer gave an order in Spanish and several seamen rushed forward and seized Eli.

  “What are ye doin’?” he cried as they ripped off his shirt and breeches. Two men hoisted him off the deck while another yanked off his shoes and stockings. “Stop that!” he shouted. “Why are ye—”

  A heavy wooden club slammed into his head and he lost consciousness momentarily. When he opened his eyes, an open hatch yawned before him, and the terrible stench he’d smelled earlier enveloped him. “What . . . What . . .” He groaned as his bare feet were dragged along the splintery deck. “What are ye doin’?” he cried. “I’m a friend. I can lead ye to gold!” Then he screamed in terror as they swung him high and tossed him into the hold.

  The sailors dropped the hatch cover in place, oblivious to Eli’s howls of terror or the resounding moans and cries of a hundred damned souls chained below.

  The two seamen aboard the sloop made a quick search for valuables, then returned to their ship. Someone loosened the lines, and the sloop drifted slowly away. Within minutes, the slaver Guadalupe, nearing the end of a fortuitous voyage from the Guinea Coast to Cuba, continued on course.

  On Arawak, Noah’s injury made it impossible for him to go down into the cave to recover the treasure with Garrett. Amanda and Noah remained aboveground while Garrett and Caroline made trip after trip along the narrow passageways to carry out the gold and precious artifacts. This time, after Garrett and Caroline brought up the treasure, Noah and Amanda buried it in the rich earth among the tangled growth near the house, taking care not to let Pilar and her husband see them. The servants seemed trustworthy, but Garrett didn’t want to take any more chances with the remainder of the find.

  While Caroline and Garrett were making the descent, Amanda and Noah had time alone to talk. On the second day, Noah repeated his proposal of marriage.

  “I’ve a mind to remain in the islands,” he said. “I like the climate, and I feel freer here than I ever did at home.” He took her hand in his. “I’d like you to stay with me, Amanda—you and the boy. I’ll be a father to him if you’ll let me.”

  “You’d stay here?” she said. “Not go back to the war?”

  “It’s not my war. Eli was right about that.”

  “Does Garrett know?”

  Noah nodded. “I told him as much. He doesn’t blame me for what Eli did, but I still blame myself. It sickens me, Manda. I knew he had bile in his belly, but I never thought it went that deep or that black. On Osprey’s ship, it was different. A man like me might have to step off the walk for a white man in Chestertown, but not at sea. On the water, I was as good as any of ’em.”

  “Not just on the sea, Noah Walker,” Amanda answered shyly. “Anywhere. You’re a better man than most.”

  “Anyway, I was thinkin’ of young Jeremy. Maybe here he’d feel better about his own self. These islands . . .” He looked far off, trying to find the right words. “They feel like a place where people like us can put down roots.”

  “What will you do here?”

  “What I know best—build boats.”

  “F
or white men or brown?”

  “For any what has the silver to pay and an eye for a seaworthy vessel.”

  “You’re a dreamer.”

  He grinned slowly. “Aye, maybe I am. But a man has to dream a thing before he does it.”

  “Perhaps.” She liked the sensation of his hand around hers. She laid her head against his chest. “I’m a Christian woman. Remember, if you marry me, there’ll be no jumping the broom. It will have to be a real ceremony with a ring and a man of God to say the words.”

  “Whatever pleases you, Mrs. Walker.”

  She laughed, and they sealed their promise with a lingering kiss.

  A hundred feet below the surface, Caroline and Garrett walked along the ledge than ran beside the underground pool. This was the third time they’d made the trip today. Garrett had run a cord from the ladder that now led down from the entrance hole to the treasure room so that there was no danger of becoming lost in the labyrinth of connecting passageways.

  Still, Caroline was uneasy underground. She’d always hated being closed in. The air in the cavern was damp and musty until they reached the chamber where the gold was stored. Garrett had left her there and followed the passageway in the opposite direction until he’d come to the underground river that led to the sea.

  “That’s the way the treasure was brought in,” he’d said when he returned from his exploration. “I’d swear to it. But I don’t know how deep we are. I’d venture that the mouth of the river is forty feet below the surface. If it was your great-great-grandmother who left it here, she must have been some swimmer.”

  But Caroline’s thoughts had not been on the gold or even on her Grandmother Lacy. A far more personal worry troubled her and made the process of recovering the treasure more difficult for her. For the last two days, she had been sick to her stomach and had suffered from recurring dizzy spells. This morning, she had awakened to find her breasts tender.

  She could no longer deny the possibility that had plagued her since she had missed her women’s cycle this month. She was carrying Garrett’s child. There was no doubt in her mind. Her sudden weakness and her loss of appetite could not be disputed. She’d always been as regular as the rise and fall of the tides, and now—nothing. Nothing but the certainty that she and Garrett were about to become parents, and that an annulment had become an impossibility.

 

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