Trapped & Liberated

by Bree Wolf

  Antoine nodded. “Exactly. And what would happen then?”

  Henri’s gaze shifted upward. “I’d climb into the crow’s nest.”

  “Do you want to?”

  A bright smile came to his nephew’s face, and some of the tension left his body.

  “Be aware of the dangers,” Antoine counselled, “but don’t give them power over you. Face them. Stare them down. And although they will never vanish, they will retreat.”

  Henri nodded eagerly. Then he loosened his death grip on the ropes and relaxed his shoulders, allowing the wind to wash over him. For a moment, he even closed his eyes, and in that moment, Antoine caught a glimpse of the man Henri would be one day.

  Strong. Confident. Determined.

  And Antoine could not deny that he was proud. Apparently, his father had been right. Henri was meant to be on this ship, just as Antoine was.

  Inhaling a deep breath, Henri opened his eyes, his gaze directed upward at the place he longed for. Then he began to climb once more. Only this time, he moved slowly and with precision, securing his footing before he moved higher. When a strong gust tugged on him, he stilled, holding tightly to the rigging. Still, the look in his eyes no longer spoke of fear, merely of caution, and before long, Henri pulled himself up and climbed into the crow’s nest.

  Stretching his arms into the sky, Henri cheered, his young voice drifting into the sky as he gazed out at the wide horizon before him.

  Antoine joined his nephew in the tight space, resting his arms on the rim, allowing his gaze to travel as well. “It is breath-taking, n’est-ce pas?”

  Henri nodded eagerly. “I wish I’d never have to climb down.”

  Antoine chuckled, “I know what you mean.” Then he turned to look at Henri. “But are you afraid to climb down?”

  Glancing over the rim, Henri swallowed as his gaze focused on the distant deck. Then he lifted his head and met Antoine’s gaze. “A little.”

  Antoine nodded. “Good. Honesty will serve you. Never lie to yourself.” He glanced down. “Do you think you can do it?”

  The left corner of Henri’s mouth quirked. “I do.”

  For a long while, they stood in the crow’s nest, their eyes sweeping over the wide ocean as the wind tugged on their hair. Then Antoine heard his nephew sigh. “I used to beg grandpère to take me out so many times.”

  “And what did he say?”

  Henri chuckled, his green eyes shifting to his uncle. “That the time would come when you would take me.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Antoine scoffed, once again wondering at the calm certainty his father had always possessed. A certainty that as a young boy had often made Antoine wonder if his father knew of things before they would come to pass. More than once, it had seemed as though nothing could surprise the man.

  A lump settled in Antoine’s throat. If his father had been right about this, what else had he seen coming? What other predictions of his would come true?

  Gazing at the distant horizon, Antoine could not stop himself from wondering if somewhere out there was a woman he would lose his heart to…just as his father had said he would.

  That thought was utterly terrifying.

  And yet, Antoine felt his heart speed up with a sudden eagerness to find her.

  Chapter Six − A Solemn Vow

  Silcox Manor, Norfolk 1790

  About one year later

  Exhausted, Alexandra sank back into the pillows, sweat trickling down her temples as her eyes closed and her muscles relaxed.

  A soft wail echoed through the room, and despite her fatigue, Alexandra felt every nerve ending in her body revive with a new purpose. Her own needs retreated, became secondary, as her mind and heart ached to soothe the little life she had brought into the world.

  “It’s a girl,” the midwife whispered beside her. “A healthy, beautiful, little girl.”

  Alexandra sighed as joy flooded her heart, and she opened her eyes to gaze upon her daughter.

  Gently, the midwife settled the infant into her mother’s arms.

  “Hello, little one,” Alexandra whispered, brushing the pad of her thumb over her daughter’s crinkled forehead, as she held her close against her breast, enjoying the feel of the infant’s soft skin against her own. “Hush, hush, little one, I will look after you. I promise.” Humming to her daughter, Alexandra gently rocked her in her arms, her own exhaustion all but forgotten in the face of her dream come true.

  Moments later, the door burst open, making not only the midwife jerk but also Alexandra as she had forgotten the world around her. At the abrupt jolt, the baby at her breast began to wail and squirm in protest.

  “Is it a boy?” Lord Silcox’s voice demanded as he looked from Alexandra to the midwife.

  Bowing her head, the midwife took a step back. “No, my lord. It’s a daughter. She’s healthy and−”

  “A daughter?” her husband growled, disgust in his voice as he glared at his wife as though she had thwarted him intentionally. “I wanted a son!”

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” Alexandra mumbled, still rocking the little life in her arms, afraid what her husband’s harsh words would do to her little heart.

  Gritting his teeth, her husband continued to glare at her as though he wished to punish her for her disobedience. “You will give me a son; do you hear me? I want an heir.” Then he turned on his heel and stormed off, his angry footsteps echoing down the hall.

  “Hush, hush, little one,” Alexandra cooed to her daughter in a gentle voice. “Don’t mind him. Mama is here.” Feeling her daughter quiet down, Alexandra closed her eyes and once more sank back into the pillows, her body claiming its much-needed rest. Still, her arms stayed wrapped around the precious life she had longed for, and even in sleep, Alexandra was aware of her daughter’s gentle breathing, the way she snuggled into her and her tiny but rapid heartbeat outrunning her own.

  This truly was a dream come true.

  When Alexandra awoke, the sun stood much lower in the sky, and she found herself alone in the room, her daughter still wrapped tightly in her arms. Only now, the infant began to stir, her little arms moving about. Her hands were still curled into little fists, and her face was scrunched up as though she was furious with the world. Indeed, a wail of protest rang from her little mouth, and she began to squirm.

  “What do you need, little one?” Alexandra whispered, wishing the midwife was still here. “What can Mama do?” Rocking her daughter, Alexandra felt a hint of panic well up, and she had to force herself to inhale a few deep breaths to calm down.

  Glancing at the bell on her bedside table, Alexandra knew that she ought to call for help, but something in her heart urged her not to. Would they not take the baby from her? Was that not how things were done in the ton? Had her husband not insisted they get a nursemaid for their child?

  Nursemaid!

  “Of course,” Alexandra exclaimed, embarrassed that she had not thought of it before. “You’re hungry, little one.”

  As though in answer, her daughter began to wail louder, and Alexandra reached for the bell. However, when her fingertips brushed against the cool metal, she stopped. “No, they will take you from me,” she whispered down to her daughter, seeing the little girl burrow her nose against Alexandra’s chest like a little dog sniffing out food.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Alexandra pulled down her nightgown and put her daughter to her breast. The baby latched on immediately, and Alexandra’s eyes opened wide at the unfamiliar sensation. Smiling to herself, she rested back against the pillows and gazed down at her daughter, enjoying the closeness that existed between them. For a short moment, it was as though they were the only two people in the world.

  Once her daughter was satisfied, her little eyes opened, and she gazed up at Alexandra for the first time, one of her little hands curling around her mother’s finger. She had a strong grip, and Alexandra loved the way her eyes shone with promise. They were a dark blue like the sea, but in the light from the window, Alexa
ndra thought to see sparks of violet dance and sparkle like stars in the night sky.

  “Violet,” Alexandra whispered. “What a beautiful name.” Hugging her daughter close, Alexandra smiled. Still, she could not deny that even this perfect little moment was overshadowed by apprehension. As much as she vowed to guard her daughter’s happiness, Alexandra knew that her powers were limited, especially now that her father had passed on and her brother was a dedicated father himself. Never had she felt more alone than in this moment when she held her new daughter in her arms. As her husband had not even glanced at his child, Alexandra was undeniably the sole guardian of her happiness. But would she succeed? Was there any chance for her to ensure that Violet grew up to be a happy, young woman? Alexandra knew that chances were not in her favour. After all, she was a woman in a man’s world, and if fate did not decide to step in, then there was very little she could do to ensure her daughter’s future would be as bright as she deserved.

  After all, it was her husband who had the final say.

  And it was obvious that he did not care for his daughter.

  All he wanted was a son.

  An heir.

  Alexandra prayed that she would have a son soon so that her husband might forget about the daughter he had been blessed with. Perhaps that way Violet would be safe.

  After all, what other way was there?

  Chapter Seven − A Silent Call

  Near the coast of Norfolk, 1796

  About six years later

  Standing at the bow, his thirteen-year-old nephew by his side, Antoine gazed through his spyglass at the distant coast. The sun was setting, and dark clouds drew near. Here and there, a raindrop fell as Antoine turned to Henri. “This is Norfolk,” he explained, handing the spyglass to his nephew. “There are a number of ports along the coast, and merchant ships travel up and down the Channel as well as across the North Sea to further trade.”

  “That’s why we’re here?” Henri asked, squinting as he looked through the spyglass at the cliffs rising out of the sea. “To disrupt trade?”

  Antoine grinned. “Indeed, we are.”

  “I don’t see a port,” Henri observed as his gaze travelled up and down the coast. Then he stopped. “Only a large house near the cliffs.”

  Antoine chuckled, “You did not truly expect us to make port at any of the harbours of this coast, n’est-ce pas? That would be foolish indeed.”

  “Of course not, Uncle,” Henri huffed, clearly annoyed that his uncle would think of him thus. “But should we not lay in wait near a harbour or on route to intercept a ship?”

  “That sounds like a much better plan indeed,” Antoine agreed, noticing the sense of pride that came to Henri’s green eyes. In the past six years, the rash boy had turned into a skilled young man, who knew his way around a ship, his mind ever eager to learn. Antoine could not have hoped for more.

  Rain began to fall in earnest now, and the wind picked up, howling as it surged land inward. Antoine glanced at the sky and noted a faint shimmer further out at sea where the weather was still gentler and the sky brighter. The dark clouds hung near the coast, gathering strong winds as they blocked out the last rays of the sun. Knowing how to proceed, Antoine was about to call to his man at the helm to bring the ship about and steer it back out to the open sea when…something stopped him.

  Antoine did not know what it was, but his gaze was drawn back to the distant beach near a tall cliff face. A stately manor sat atop the bluff, and when Antoine pulled out his spyglass once more, he half-expected to see…

  …someone.

  Gritting his teeth, Antoine shook his head. This did not make any sense! Turning back toward the man at the helm, he was about to call out again when the breath caught in his throat and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He gripped the handrail, breathing in and out carefully, only to realise that the assault had already ended.

  “Are you all right?” Henri asked, his dark green eyes narrowed in concern. “Should we not head back out?”

  Antoine nodded, proud that Henri had estimated the correct course on his own. However, as much as he knew what he ought to do, he simply could not. Deep in his chest, Antoine felt a strange pull as though his life depended on him reaching that beach. Never in all his years had he felt anything like it, and although his mind urged him not to answer this call, Antoine could not resist.

  “Steer her into the wind!” he called as he rushed across the main deck, careful not to lose his footing on the slippery boards. “We’re heading for the beach.”

  François stared at him with narrowed eyes, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. Then he nodded, clearly surprised by his captain’s order but equally determined to see them through. Leaning into the wind, François turned the wheel, steering the ship toward the coast. Instantly, the wind caught in the sails, increasing their speed, and Antoine could not help but take this as a sign. Although he was far from superstitious, it was as though fate had given him wings to speed his journey. If only he knew what he would find at its end!

  “Where are we going?” Henri called above the howling of the wind. “Why are we heading toward the beach?”

  Antoine shrugged his shoulders. “If only I knew,” he mumbled as his father’s knowing smile surfaced in his mind. Was this it?

  Was it her?

  Had he finally found her?

  Chapter Eight − Waters of Change

  Pulling a cloak tightly around her shoulders, Alexandra started toward the door. Despite the howling wind outside, she could not remain in the house. She needed to get away even if only for a moment. She needed time to process what her husband had told her. She needed to gather her wits about her. There had to be a way. There had to be…

  Wiping at her eyes, Alexandra willed her tears to stop. Then she reached for the door−a side entrance to the kitchen−knowing that the howling wind would muffle her sobs.

  “Mummy, where are you going?”

  Gritting her teeth, Alexandra froze, knowing that she could not leave her daughter without an explanation. Quick fingers brushed away the last remnants of tears before she turned to face Violet, a smile on her face. “I need some fresh air, my dear,” she said, brushing a gentle hand over her daughter’s wild curls. “Why don’t you find Miss Peachum and−?”

  “But I want to come with you,” Violet insisted, her wide blue eyes gazing up at her with determination.

  “There you are, my lady,” Miss Peachum, their governess, exclaimed, hands on her hips as she looked at Violet. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her warm brown eyes swept over her mistress for a split second, and Alexandra could see that the old woman understood. “Give your mother a moment alone, dear.”

  “But I want to go,” Violet insisted, her little arms crossed about her chest as she stood her ground.

  Alexandra sighed, “Then come, but you need to keep up.”

  Clapping her hands, Violet cheered, then allowed Miss Peachum to bundle her up. A moment later, the little girl yanked open the door and stepped outside into the darkening world. Her eyes widened as she felt the wind pull on her clothes and hair, but she bowed her head and marched on bravely.

  Unable to hide a smile, Alexandra ventured after her, closely followed by Miss Peachum.

  The sharp wind felt invigorating as it stung her cheeks, and Alexandra welcomed the cooling effect it had on her heated skin. Her mind and heart were in a turmoil as she followed her daughter down the path and toward the cliff top.

  That morning, only moments before her husband had departed Silcox Manor to return to London and more amusing pastimes, he had informed her of an agreement he had entered with his oldest friend, Lord Dowling. According to the contract the two men had signed, Violet was to marry Lord Dowling upon turning eighteen in exchange for the release of a debt. From what Alexandra could gather, her husband had lost one of his estates in a card game to Lord Dowling and now thought to retain it by offering his daughter instead. Although Lord Dowling was at present still married−which mad
e it even more distasteful−his wife had been ailing for years. Apparently, the man had no hope for her recovery, but was instead planning, awaiting her demise at some point down the line. Not unlike Alexandra’s own husband, Lord Dowling was eager for an heir that had thus been denied him. Both men seemed to be far from fortunate in that department.

  Allowing her gaze to sweep over her innocent, little girl, Alexandra felt a deep ache in her heart. Violet had such a vibrant spirit, her blue eyes lighting up with adventure whenever they ventured outdoors. She was wild and free when she ran along the cliffs or the beach below, laughter spilling from her lips as she spread her arms wide, pretending to be a bird, wishing she could take flight.

  Why would her father want to cage such a wild spirit? Could he not see what it would do to her?

  Alexandra sighed, reminding herself that as much as she loved her daughter, her husband had never taken even the smallest liking to her. To him, she was nothing short of a possession that he could use to his greatest advantage.

  The thought of Violet married to Lord Dowling sent a shudder down Alexandra’s back. Only too well did she remember her own wedding day…and everything that followed. At least, her brother had found happiness with his wife and children. Still, whenever Alexandra looked at her daughter, her brother’s joy was a small comfort. After all, a mother’s heart ached most urgently for her children. What was she to do? Reasoning with her husband was out of the question. He would never listen. He had haughtily informed her that this was not her decision, that this did not concern her.

  How could it not? It was her child after all!

  Was there anything she could do to spare her daughter the fate she herself had suffered? Anything at all?

  For a long while, they wandered along the cliff face until they stopped at the highest point, sloping slightly upward. Standing in a sea of grass, Alexandra gazed toward the horizon where a darkening sky met with the black waves of the angry sea. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and there was the promise of rain in the air. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, once more enjoying the powerful wind brushing over her skin.