True Born

by Lara Blunte

"Well..." John said. "I have not only been circling advertisements. There was an article that quite caught my eye -- something that opens the way to enterprising young men of courage."

  "Not sure you are talking about me, when you mention that last word."

  John was not discouraged. "Imagine having your own hours, being your own master and making a very large profit, so that you would only have to work once a week -- or even once a fortnight."

  Marcus' eyes had widened, "What's that job called, manning the gates of heaven? Because we know not many people pass through it, especially in your bloody religion! Once in a fortnight sounds about right!"

  "I will tell you all about it, but you have to come with me, we can't talk here. You can have a room in my house, and we can discuss it."

  "A room is it? Not half the bed with you?"

  "A room," John said. "Do you think I would sleep in the same bed as you?"

  Marcus pursed his lips, "Too bad. I haven't made love in so long your legs are looking mighty fine to me at the moment, and your eyes very pretty!"

  "Come on, before you are too drunk!"

  At home John asked the servant to prepare a bed for Marcus, and a bath (which made the Irishman protest), and to wash his clothes. He also ordered a good meal of lamb and potatoes, as well as more ale, to be brought.

  John's guest sat by the fire after eating, wrapped in a long blanket, happy with his fourth cup of ale. He was so happy, in fact, that he did attempt to start a song, but John said, "Stop the Irish singing shite!"

  Marcus sighed, never capable of losing his bonhomie, especially with a few cups in him. "Oh, all right. The English have been repressing us for so long, what's another song that can't be sung?" He turned round to look at John, "And when are you going to tell me about this wonderful discovery of yours, how to make a lot of money while hardly working?"

  John cocked his head and gave a smile as mischievous as Marcus had ever produced. "Between the newspaper and your occupation, I think I have found exactly what we need. It will either set us up nicely or be the end of us!"

  "I don't like the part about it being the end of us," Marcus said. "I like that other part."

  "No reward without risk!" John said, still smiling.

  Sixteen. On the Moors

  Hugh was highly annoyed as the carriage carrying him, his wife and her three sisters sped through the moors.

  He had cautioned everyone against a late start, as they did not want to still be on the road at nightfall, but all the bloody women had taken so long to be dressed and ready!

  With the lack of real roads and maps of the southwest, drivers often got lost over the unruly territory, and the coachman was new, having only driven from London to Halford once before. The grooms were no help either.

  And now, as Hugh looked out of the window, he did see night fast approaching, and knew that they were lost. They would eventually find their way, but it would take longer than it should, when they had been already been bumping over uneven terrain and rocks all day. He was tired and in a sour mood, and the girls who had taken the longest to be ready – his wife's three sisters – seemed to be sleeping, while he was incapable of it.

  There was another reason to speed, which he didn't even want to think about. However, often such things happened exactly when one was trying desperately not to think of them.

  "Intolerable journey! It shall be a while before I go anywhere again!" Hugh was saying to Georgiana, who did not keep him any real company by sharing his ill humor.

  The carriage suddenly stopped, and for a moment Hugh was annoyed -- why was the idiot coachman stopping so suddenly? He opened the curtain to see if the incompetent were asking the way from some passerby or rider, and did see a man on a horse, but then, with terror, realized that he was masked, and holding a pistol.

  Another man's masked face appeared at the window, making everyone inside gasp.

  "Stand und deliffer!" the man at the window cried.

  Heavenly Mary, it was the feared German Rogue and his band!

  The door was unceremoniously thrown open and the German outlaw himself reached inside and pulled Hugh out.

  Hugh heard the spluttering from the mounted member of the band, and knew that he was the notorious Laughing Bandit.

  The Earl almost felt like screaming at the women, I knew this would happen! And if he could, he would have struck his coachman on the head, for here was what everyone tried to avoid when going towards the southwest: being held up in the moors by any band of highwaymen at all.

  At least, Hugh thought desperately, there were no known fatalities by the German Rogue and his men, but they were said to be vicious at the time of finding all the money passengers were carrying -- whether it was sewn into women's dresses or hidden inside hollow wheels, saddles or beneath wigs.

  These men usually left common passengers alone and went only for the rich pickings, and for His Majesty's money when it was carried to and fro by bailiffs. This meant that they would be caught sooner rather than later, as they were robbing the very highest sphere of society.

  That Laughing Bandit, which always struck dread in the heart of his victims with his heartless mirth, was going to be weeping at the scaffold soon!

  These thoughts were of little comfort to Hugh as he and the women were all lined up in the cold night under a bright moon, while the four men in the band rummaged through everything and put money, jewels and other things of value in sacks. The German was looking at them one by one, and stared at Hugh for a long time, fishing a watch out of his pocket and, with an appreciative noise, taking his wig.

  The bandit went on to caress the Countess with his eyes and pluck her necklace, earrings and bracelets. She didn't seem to mind, and said nothing when he did the same to Bess, but when he moved over to her younger sisters, Georgiana cried, "Sir, these are young girls! Please allow me to get whatever they have of value and give it to you."

  The laughing man who was still on the horse seemed a little restless at this, and the German nodded, "Ja, madam, zis ist fine!"

  A laugh, or something rather more like a snort, was then heard from the man on the horse.

  Georgiana stepped forward and started removing her sisters' jewelry, and showed the bandit that there was nothing hidden in their cloaks, skirts, shoes, bodices.

  "To show you more than this..." She stopped and flushed. "How can I make you let us go, without exposing them?"

  The man looked around at the family and said, "I agree ve must not outrage zese girls -- but as such, madam, you must stand as guarantee zat ve shall haff all ve need!"

  "What do you mean?" Hugh asked, stepping forward.

  "Zat ze lady vill come mit us!" the man said. "Und be ransomed!"

  The girls rushed towards Georgiana, crying, as Bess stepped backwards and Hugh, not daring to move, protested, "This is outrageous! This lady is a friend of the King! Do you think you will not be found and hanged, sir?"

  The German man turned towards him, his face close to his, "I know it von't be tonight!"

  He took Georgiana by the wrist, but she resisted him and slapped his face.

  "Ow!" the bandit cried, his hand to his cheek. His friend was snorting with laughter again.

  "Georgiana!" Hugh cried, but he was trying to calm her down. They might all be shot and, in fact, the Laughing Bandit, who was now so quiet, stepped forward to point his pistol at him.

  "Georgiana!" Hugh repeated, his hands in the air.

  The Countess saw that if she kept resisting a pistol might go off, and her sisters might be wounded, but she could not help a look of disdain at her frightened husband as she stepped forward. "All right, here I am!"

  The German Rogue bowed mockingly and motioned towards the Laughing Bandit, whose horse came forward. He took Georgiana's arm and pulled her into the saddle, placing her in front of him. Turning without more ado, he rode away.

  "Giana!" Dotty screamed after her.

  Hugh cried, "They won't have you for long!"

  Georgiana
felt that the man riding away with her was strong, and an expert rider. The horse was speeding through the moors, and he held her fast before him on the saddle. It was not going to be easy to escape him.

  After they had ridden for about a quarter of an hour, he slowed the pace of his horse. They were in the wild, and she could get lost, but was it better to take a chance and escape than to be raped by bandits.

  Feeling the highwayman's face to be right behind her, she drove her head back with all her might against his chin. And she meant to jump from the horse and run, except that he was still holding her around the waist with one arm, while his other hand went to his mouth.

  "Bloody hell, Georgie! I think I lost a tooth!"

  Georgiana turned around in the saddle with a gasp, just as John took off the black mask that had been covering his face down to the edge of his lip, which was now bleeding.

  "John!"

  "Who else, you mad girl?"

  "You are the mad one! What on earth are you doing?"

  John jumped onto the ground and lifted her down, and they stood embracing under the moon, where she could see him clearly. He was worrying his bloodied front teeth with his tongue, but seemed otherwise happy.

  "Earning a living!" he said.

  "You aren't serious! You haven't really become a highwayman?"

  "Your husband left me little choice -- and, have I ever said that I am an impatient man? I mean to have a farm, and I will get there the fastest possible way, without leaving England. Well, not for long anyway."

  Georgiana's eyes were shining with mischief and amusement, but she suddenly frowned, “There is such a prize on your head! They go around describing your laugh! Why do you laugh?"

  "It's that crazy Irishman -- I said we needed to disguise our voices and he his accent, and the first day he started speaking like a German and I couldn't help myself! Then, on top of everything, he told me that he had meant to sound like a Dane! Every time he does it it's worse! And the silly things he says! Stand und deliffer!"

  She started to giggle as well. "Then you must remember to disguise your laugh!"

  "I did today, because Hugh would have recognized me, but when I saw him pulled out of the carriage...!"

  John spluttered with laughter, and Georgiana couldn't help joining him.

  "But the girls!" she cried.

  "They will be fine! We never hurt anyone, and Hugh will not try to be a hero, of that I am sure! Everything must be over already!"

  "What do you mean to do with me?" she asked.

  "Oh, terrible things," he said. "Do you not remember when you said you would give your life for a month's happiness with me, and you would be a glutton for it?"

  "Yes!" she cried eagerly.

  "Well, you don't have to give your life for it, it is about to happen! We will keep Hugh entertained with notes asking for impossible things, and all the while you and I are going to be very, very happy!"

  "Oh, John, it is my greatest wish come true -- but is there no danger that anyone will find us?"

  "No, my darling, because we are going somewhere very far away, where they don't even speak English!"

  "Where?"

  He smiled down at her, "To Ireland!"

  Seventeen. One Month

  Ireland was beautiful, even greener than England, and that June the weather was fine, and rains scarce.

  The cottage which Marcus had procured for them was in the middle of a valley, with fat cows and white sheep grazing around it, and fields of flowers within sight. Every morning Georgiana opened the windows above their bed, breathed deep, and smiled.

  She would have thought a hovel in hell beautiful if she had been with John, but it did seem like he had found heaven for them, with the help of his friend.

  Georgiana had dressed as a boy to make her way to Ireland with Marcus. She wondered how many women had used that stratagem to elope with a lover, or find some freedom. When she had put on the breeches she was meant to wear, and turned around to look at herself she had been shocked. How could she go anywhere, with her buttocks and legs showing, and with a coat that opened behind and revealed her form as she walked?

  She had walked out quite stiffly before John, Marcus and their men, and John had smiled at the blush on her cheeks. He had kissed her and whispered, "You make an adorable boy. Remind the Irishman I will cut him into pieces if he so much as looks at you."

  And in the carriage, as they bumped over Irish roads after crossing the sea and she leaned out the window to look at the country, she did turn to find Marcus' eyes on her bottom, and a large grin on his face.

  "John told me to remind you..." she began heatedly.

  "Oh, let him cut out my eyes!" Marcus cried without shame. "Is it every day one sees such sights? Look at Ireland, milady, and let me look where I will!"

  Georgiana couldn't help liking Marcus, a man who would make a disgraceful husband to any woman, as he loved to drink, embellish stories and had an eye that roved so much it might need a passport. But he made her laugh, a very great deal, never took anything bad to heart, shared whatever he had without affectation, and clearly cared for John.

  She had wanted to change into a woman before they arrived at the cottage, and Marcus had seen no harm in it, as no one would know them now. They were too far into a country where Englishmen did not much venture, and locals were not very keen to share any information with the red coats or the police -- if anyone even suspected who they might be.

  Georgiana wisely sent Marcus far away from the carriage and closed the curtains well, as he would certainly have peeped. It was the least of rewards, Marcus thought, for his trouble. He stood whistling outside until she was ready, and then entered the carriage again to take her the rest of the way, his eyes on her breasts this time.

  "Mr. Brennan!"

  "Oh, shoot me through the head, will ye, I hear my eyes will stop working if you do!"

  Now she and John were alone, except for a woman and her husband, who brought them food sometimes, though John went hunting for game and found summer fruit. He had also started an orchard, as he meant to be a farmer and was trying to learn how to plant things, even in a small way. They did have a struggle against a cow before they managed to get any milk out of it, and had tins of tea and sugar.

  There were the days when they walked over the countryside to lie on the ruins of a castle, or rode to a small town to attend the feast for some saint; or the days when they sat in the shade after eating, and he would read to her, or she would play a small viola and sing to him, as she had a pleasant, clear voice full of feeling.

  Ombra mai fu

  di vegetabile,

  cara ed amabile,

  soave più.

  And there were the nights, when they lay in bed by the light of the fire and made love, tenderly or savagely. There had been only one thing that John had told her, before he even touched her.

  "We will be careful -- but you must promise me, George, that if you do conceive a child you will not think of anyone else but the baby, and you will come to me. You will bring your sisters, and we will find a way. Swear it to me, or I can't touch you."

  "I swear it," she said, almost wishing that all of it would happen.

  He made her swear again, on his life, and put many curses on himself should she break her word, and then he knew that she never would break it.

  One month, he had said. It was what she had asked for, and now she wished she had said a year -- how cheaply she would have sold her soul to be with him, but she knew that reality awaited, and that she could not leave her sisters with Hugh for too long.

  And yet every beautiful morning told her that this moment would end, that time was running through her fingers, and that she couldn't stop it or slow it down; that, in fact, the more beautiful their days and nights were, the more quickly they passed.

  They talked as well, but they did not talk of anything sad: they did not talk of the deaths of their parents, or her marriage and what happened in it, or of the war. She did ask him about
India, as she had never left England, except to come to Ireland.

  "It's a land unlike anything you have ever seen,” he told her. “They have been around for much longer than us, and there is so much there -- so much history and color. The light is different, sometimes so bright you can't open your eyes, sometimes so soft it makes everything come alive."

  She remembered the things he had written to her, about cows being sacred, and the many gods the Hindus had, about elephants, lakes as smooth as mirrors, and palaces everywhere.

  "I wish I had seen it with you!"

  He looked at her with a light in his eyes and stood up suddenly, running out of the room. She heard him rummaging in the closet where they kept their trunks and sat up, puzzled.

  He came back with a large black and white box of intricate inlaid work, and set it on the bed.

  "It's beautiful," Georgiana said, inspecting the box.

  John opened it, turning it toward her. It was full of things, silks in red, dark pink, yellow, and peacock blue, silver and gold jewelry with enameled pieces, small flasks with perfume and oils, and all sorts of curiosities.

  "What is all this?"

  "Your wedding chest!" John said.

  She looked at him, and saw that his smile was a little sad, and had to bite her lip so that a tear wouldn't blind her. He had been buying all these things for her, during the war, and had meant to come back bringing them for their wedding.

  He had probably at one point thought that she had preferred the diamonds and precious stones which she would get from her marriage to Hugh. She could not begin to tell him how incredibly precious everything in that box was to her -- small scissors in silver, an ivory comb, a perfume bottle -- because they were things that he had found for her, while he was thinking of her and she of him.

  She managed to compose her expression and John was lying on one elbow now, smiling at her in earnest. "How do you like it?"

  "Would these things be used in a wedding there?"

  "Oh, this and much more, I suspect. I never really saw an entire wedding in Bengal, they last for days, you know. But I think the bride would be covered for most of the ceremony and then surprise the groom." He lifted his eyebrows in mock apprehension. "And I heard there were many promises to be made..."