A Thoroughly Compromised Lady

by Bronwyn Scott

  Dulci hurried as best she could in the dark. He could hear her groping. She brought the gourd and the dipper to Jack’s lips, splashing water on his chest in her haste. ‘Are you very sick, Jack?’

  ‘Whatever the dart was dipped in has unsettled my stomach and it wearies me. It will wear off eventually. The water helps. I didn’t think I’d be able to stand there much longer.’

  Dulci felt for his hand. ‘Everything will be fine, just rest, Jack.’ Her touch was heaven. It felt good to feel her, to hear her voice. But he could not give in to the temptation of her presence.

  ‘To be brutally honest, things won’t be fine,’ Jack corrected. ‘In the morning, they’ll probably kill both Ortiz and I and you’ll become the cacique’s next wife. If I am lucky, perhaps I’ll get to face Ortiz in combat instead.’

  Dulci knew, of course; she’d heard the charges and the consequences read to him in English. But her grip on his hand tightened at the brutal reminder articulated so plainly, so baldly. ‘Well, then I think we need a plan.’ She was doing her level best to shrug off her fear. ‘If we stay here, we’re done for.’ She stood up and started pacing. ‘The first part of any plan is to assess our re sources.’

  ‘That won’t take very long,’ Jack said drily from the pallet. If he closed his eyes he could ease the discomfort.

  ‘We have my gun and we have your navigation skills. I think that’s all we need.’ Dulci’s bravado was hard won. She must know how desperate her plan was. She had one shot in that little gun.

  ‘What do you think Robert is doing?’ she asked thoughtfully. ‘Is there any help from his corner?’

  ‘He will have moored the boats at the river where he last saw us. That’s the plan if anyone goes missing.’

  ‘Perfect. Then all we have to do is meet him at the river,’ Dulci said brightly. ‘And the river is which direction, Jack?’

  ‘It’s south of here. I was un conscious—how long did it take to get here? An hour? More than that?’

  ‘A little over an hour, I think.’

  ‘Then we’re four or five miles from the river,’ Jack said resolutely. ‘But, Dulci, even if we found enough stars to navigate by, we still have to get out of the hut and the village. There’s a reason they build these caneyes the way they do. The cane walls are sturdy.’

  ‘Strong enough to with stand a hurricane,’ Dulci recited absently from one of her readings. ‘Yes, I know. We aren’t going to be able to tear the back wall apart and go out that way.’

  ‘What do you propose?’

  Dulci knelt down by the pallet. He could smell the pleasant scent of her, still lingering from their bath under a waterfall a day ago. ‘I propose we walk out of here an hour before sunrise.’

  ‘Walk out?’

  ‘Well, my plan isn’t as simple as yours usually are. I will need you to quietly over power the guard while I dispatch the other one to fetch water or something. Then, we’ll walk out when the village is quiet and no one is looking. We’ll just step behind this hut and fade into the perimeter of the village and into the forest.’

  She peered at Jack in the dark. ‘Are you well enough to attempt it? Perhaps if we wait until dawn, you will regain your strength. A few more hours might cleanse your system.’

  Jack laughed softly at her suppositions. ‘I’ll be fine, Dulci.’ He’d have to be. They didn’t have a choice.

  ‘Come, let me hold you, Dulci, I’m not so sick that I can’t enjoy the feel of you.’ And, he hoped, offer her the comfort of his body. She’d been courageous today, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t also been scared to death. He would give her what comfort he could, even if it was simply the length of his body pressed against hers, a reminder that she’d not been abandoned to an unknown fate. He wrapped his arm about her, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing against his chest as she settled into him.

  There was peace in that rhythm for him too. He would make things right for her and then he’d take himself as far from her as possible so that she’d be safe. There was no need to speak. It was enough to feel the rise and fall of her head against his chest, but Jack wanted to talk. There were words that needed saying in case the worst happened.

  ‘I love you, Dulci,’ he began hesitantly, holding her tight. He had so much he wanted to say it was hard to know where to start. His mind was full to bursting with all he needed to tell her. He hoped he had the strength, the voice to convey it all.

  ‘Shh, Jack, save your strength. You shouldn’t talk too much now.’ Dulci shifted in his arms, turning to face him. ‘We can talk on the boat when you’re better.’

  Jack shook his head in the darkness. ‘I know you’re being brave, Dulci, and I love you for it. But we have to also be realists. If I die tomorrow there are things I want you to know so that you have no doubts.’

  To her credit, Dulci did not protest. ‘Then tell me, Jack,’ she whispered.

  ‘You are my heart, Dulci. I’ve been a foolish man. I’ve always thought of myself as un conventional, that I wasn’t a traditionalist like Gladstone. It’s something of an irony to come to the potential end of my life and realise at the last that I was not as unconventional as I thought when it came to you. I wanted to shelter you, I still do. But my reasons are different now. In the be ginning, I was afraid of what you might think of me if you saw the sum of my life, what I did for the king, how I lived. This is hardly the life the viscounts you know in London live. But now it’s different. I want to shelter you because I can’t bear to lose you.’

  ‘You won’t lose me, Jack,’ Dulci whispered.

  ‘Don’t make empty promises, Dulci. We both know I am going to lose you, only just for different reasons than before.’

  ‘You’re not going to die,’ she insisted fervently.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ Jack shrugged. ‘That’s not the loss I’m talking about. You came on this journey to prove to me you could be my partner. You’ve done that. Every day, I could see your strength and your commitment. But, Dulci, I can’t let you do it. I love you too much to lose you, to know that I single handedly put you in danger.’ He felt as if he were babbling. Perhaps he had a touch of fever after all.

  Dulci tensed. He was probably lucky he couldn’t see the fury sparking her eyes. ‘So even by winning, I lose?’ she said slowly.

  A cool drop of moisture seeped through the linen of his shirt where Dulci’s head lay. ‘Dulci?’ Jack reached a hand to her cheek. ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

  Stupid man. She’d kill him for this when they got back to the boats. Whoever thought love solved everything? In this case, love had made it worse. She’d hoped love would ease the way towards Jack’s acceptance of her as a partner in life. But it seemed that love, once realised, had now become an obstacle. She could weep at the irony of it. Or, she could seize what moments she had. Dulci preferred the latter. If she could not have him for ever, she would have him for the night.

  ‘Give me your hand, Jack.’ Dulci sat up and reached for a thong that held back her hair.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jack strained to see in the dark, struggling a little as she tied the cord around his wrist and her own.

  ‘We’re hand fasting. We will have this marriage if no other,’ Dulci said, a tell-tale tremble in her voice. ‘I would have you as a husband who accepts me as a partner entirely for one night at least. I never thought love would drive us apart. I rather thought it would be the making of us, the one realisation that would save us.’

  Dulci lay back down beside him, their hands lightly bound by the thong. ‘We’ll use the ancient words.’

  She drew a quiet breath. ‘I take you, Jack, to be the partner of my soul and the husband of my heart as long as we both shall live.’

  Jack repeated them, his own voice shaky and hoarse and then it was done: short in text but long on meaning. They lay in silence, savouring the sanctity of the moment, feeling the import of their words. ‘As long as we both shall live sounds ominous under these circumstances,’ Jack said thoughtfully.r />
  ‘There are a lot of ways to die, Jack,’ Dulci whispered in the dark.

  ‘Well, Lady Wainsbridge, I think we need a happier custom. Ah, I know just the thing.’ With that he kissed her deeply and fully, competently conveying regrets that his strength would not allow him to do more.

  ‘Dulci, there’s one more thing I have to tell you.’ Jack pushed back her loose hair so that his hands framed her face, his long fingers tracing the contours of her jaw and the smooth lines of brow.

  ‘If anything happens to me, you must escape at all costs. You must go to the king and clear my name. Tell him everything you know about Ortiz. I am trusting you with this mission, Dulci. Promise me, Dulci?’

  ‘Of course, I’ll go to the king,’ Dulci murmured half-heartedly. This was morbid talk, but she’d appease him.

  ‘No, Dulci, I need your pledge.’ Jack was adamant, unfooled by her consent. ‘I will take care of you, even from the grave if needed. William will listen to you. I want my name cleared. It might save you from scandal even if I’m not there. And Dulci…’ He paused before going on. ‘If there are any children, you must go to the king and petition for my estates. Tell William I meant for my heirs to be recognised.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ They’d been careful. Jack had shown her how to count the days of her cycle and how to stay away from the most fertile days. On several occasions, he’d consciously with drawn. They’d taken every precaution.

  Jack covered her breast with a gentle hand. ‘I would plan for all eventualities, Dulci. A man can never be too careful with what he loves.’ Jack kissed her again, this time on the forehead. ‘Come and sleep a little. There’s a few hours yet until we make our dash.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘Dulci, it’s time.’ Jack was shaking her. She made a moan of com plaint and then sat bolt upright, everything flooding back to her. She wasn’t in Jack’s arms on the boat. They were in the Arawak village.

  ‘Moan a bit, Jack. Pretend you’re desperately ill.’

  ‘That shouldn’t be hard.’

  ‘It’s not funny, Jack.’

  Jack moaned, putting on a loud performance that would have done Drury Lane proud. Once he’d moaned long enough to show real distress, Dulci went to the opening of the hut. ‘Help me.’ She gestured to Jack, thrashing on the pallet, doing her best to look frightened and nearly hysterical. ‘Needs drink.’

  One of the guards hurried off to find water. Dulci pulled at the other one. ‘Come, look at him.’ She frantically dragged him inside, knowing time was of the essence. Her frantic behaviour wasn’t all that feigned. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the water bearer was back.

  ‘He die?’ Dulci asked, urging the man to bend over Jack.

  The moment he was close enough, Jack seized the man in a strangle hold. They wrestled, but Jack quickly subdued the shorter man and he slumped on to the pallet.

  Jack was panting from his exertions and Dulci was worried as he rose to his feet a bit unsteady. ‘Hurry,’ was all she said.

  Outside, they slipped unnoticed into the perimeter of the village behind the hut and then into the forest. Now it was all up to Jack.

  The darkness was thick and the forest canopy blocked out the sky in places, making it impossible to navigate consistently. The only benefit was that if they couldn’t see, the Arawak wouldn’t be able to see them either unless they brought torches or delayed the search until sunrise. They didn’t have much of a head start to count on. The water bearer would notice immediately that they had gone.

  ‘This way,’ Jack whispered, gripping her hand fiercely. ‘The cacique’s bohio faced the south entrance of the village, so it would put the southerly direction to our left.’

  The going was pain fully slow as the forest gradually began to lighten with daybreak. With daybreak, it became less frightening too, the nocturnal sounds of animals becoming less noisome and Dulci breathed a sigh of relief once the sun was up.

  They’d done well so far with their simple plan. But Jack was tiring. His tanned face was pale, his step unsteady. Dulci braced him on one side and he used a long stick for support on the other. ‘Do you think Robert is looking for us?’ she asked.

  Jack nodded. ‘I hope so. With luck, he’s found my equipment. He won’t have any idea which way we went, but since the village isn’t too far inland, he’ll quickly eliminate the alternatives.’

  ‘And the Arawak, are they looking for us?’

  ‘Yes, I fear so. They will have had time to assemble search parties. While they are not warriors, they are fierce hunters and trackers. There’s no telling what kind of trail we’ve left behind in the dark.’

  Dulci drew a deep breath. ‘Then we’ll have to hurry. How are we doing on direction?’

  ‘That’s our one piece of good news. We’ve headed south. We are close to the river. Can you see the change in the foliage? This is river growth. We’ll see more of it as we get closer.’ Jack paused. ‘Dulci, listen to me. If the Arawak close in, I want you to run. I want you to leave me. Get away. You’re healthy and I will slow you down. I just ask that you leave me your gun.’

  ‘There’s only one shot in it, Jack. I can’t see it would do you any good.’ Realisation swamped her. One shot was all he’d need. ‘I won’t leave you, Jack,’ she said staunchly.

  ‘This is no time for heroics, Dulci. I wouldn’t even be asking it if I thought I stood any sort of chance of out running them.’

  He was panting now to keep up the pace even with her help. ‘Maybe it won’t come to that,’ Dulci encouraged.

  ‘Maybe it won’t.’ But Jack’s tone implied otherwise and his eyes kept darting around the under growth as if he expected to see the Arawak jump out at any moment.

  Dulci was sweating profusely, perspiration staining her shirt liberally as they continued to trudge forwards. A few times they heard rustling in the tall grasses and they’d attempted to hide. Each time was a false alarm. Jack’s breathing was laboured now, sweat rolling off his face. He needed water. He was rapidly becoming dehydrated and it was obvious his stomach pained him, but still he persisted. His strength was astonishing. She would not lose him. That became her mantra as they eked out the distance to the river. She would drag him if she had to.

  A ribbon of silver glinted through the trees. Dulci thought she’d cry from the joy of it. The river! At last. They’d made it. ‘We’re here, Jack. It will just be a bit further,’ she said encouragingly.

  She did drag him at that point, Jack stumbling and she stumbling with him, towards the river. ‘Be careful,’ Jack muttered, his speech slurring with exhaustion. ‘Watsh for craw shodiles.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Dulci responded hastily. At the shore, she shielded her eyes against the brighter sun and looked for the boats. Luck was with them! The boats were just ahead, maybe a hundred yards. Jack’s direction had been unerring. But she’d never dared to hope they’d come out so close to the boats. For all she’d guessed, they’d come out at the river and then have to follow it until they ran into Robert.

  The terrain by the river was harder going, the swampy ooze making it difficult to go quickly. Jack seemed to find some extra strength now that they were nearly safe. She could see figures on the boats and Dulci waved, hazarding a shout.

  That was when the first dart whistled past, missing them by inches. Dulci dragged them both down. There was commotion on the boats. They were poling away! Dulci screamed again and dragged Jack forwards. They were so close! One of the crew saw them.

  A cry went down the line. She could hear Robert’s voice giving orders as she struggled forwards. A rope went over the edge of the boat. All she had to do was wade out into the water and grab it. The Arawak were more interested in the boats than anything that lurked below at the moment, having assumed she and Jack were already on board.

  Braving the potential dangers of the river, Dulci gripped the rope and tied it around Jack so she wouldn’t lose him in the current. Then she grabbed the second rope for herself and g
ave the signal. She closed her eyes, hardly daring to look for fear of seeing one of the darts headed her way.

  At last she felt the hard wood of the deck beneath her and she collapsed flat, crawling to Jack’s side, words coming out of her mouth in a babbling torrent.

  After a few moments she realised everyone was standing, no one was worried about the darts any more. The attack had stopped. She looked quizzically at Robert.

  He smiled. ‘We’re no longer on their territory. Their territory ends at the river.’

  Dulci breathed a sigh of relief. ‘We’re safe. What about Jack? Can you help him? It’s poison from a dart. His system has reacted poorly to it.’

  Robert knelt beside his friend, checking his pulse and noting the shallow breathing. ‘I have some herbs in my kit that will offset the poison. We’ll mix him a tea.’

  After Jack was made comfortable and roused enough to take the tea, Robert pulled Dulci aside.

  ‘He’ll be all right, but he’s in no shape to continue the trip. I want you and a few of the assistants to take one boat back to Georgetown so he can rest. That journey alone will be enough to tax him. But it’s better to turn back versus an in determinate exploration ahead with no guar an tees. If he doesn’t go back, he might ruin his health entirely.’

  ‘But the mapping,’ Dulci pro tested, recalling Jack’s plea the previous night. ‘He needs this map to clear his name.’

  ‘He’ll have the map. I’ll get those boundaries,’ Robert promised.

  That night, Jack showed marked signs of improvement, Robert’s herbs having settled his stomach and his body having had an afternoon of rest. ‘You rescued me, Dulci.’ He reached for her hand, squeezing it where it lay in her lap.

  ‘I owed you. You saved me in London,’ Dulci said lightly, braiding her fingers through his. ‘Robert and I have been talking and he thinks it’s best if you and I go back to Georgetown. He will continue with the mapping…’ She paused and looked up. It was good to see Jack recovering, but it meant the adventure was over, for them at least. It also meant she had to face the un pleasant truth regarding her and Jack.