Charity's Cross

by Marylu Tyndall

  “Charity, dearest. Get up.”

  “Rose what are you doing? You should be abed.”

  “And let my friend suffer a most horrid fate? Never.” She moved to the open door and peered into the hallway, then gestured for Charity to follow.

  Friend? Despite her agony, Charity warmed at the title as she struggled to rise.

  In the hallway, three guards sat beside the door, their heads slumped on their chests.

  “What have you done?” Charity whispered.

  Rose waved a hand through the air. “Oh, don’t worry about them. My lady’s maid slipped them some ale with a bit of laudanum in it. Well, quite a lot actually.” She smiled and pulled Charity along the dark hallway. “I have a horse saddled and ready to go. You can ride, can’t you?” She glanced at Charity over her shoulder, but didn’t wait for a reply before she continued. “There’s a ship waiting for you called the Respite. ’Tis my father’s ship.”

  “Ship?”

  “Yes, my father has many of them. He used to be a pirate, you know.”

  Rose halted at the front door and opened it ever so slowly, then led Charity outside. Moonlight turned Rose’s night robe into creamy milk flowing in the breeze as the precious lady gripped Charity’s hand.

  “The captain will take you to Charles Towne. There’s extra clothes, undergarments, pins, hairbrush, oh, and some money in the saddlebag.”

  Emotion burned in Charity’s throat. “How can you help a murderess?”

  Rose drew her into a tight embrace. “You are no murderer, Charity. That much I know.”

  Charity glanced at the footman holding the horse’s reins, then back at Rose. She handed her the cross. “Please return this to Elias. Tell him…tell him…”

  “I know.” Rose nodded. “I will.”

  Giving her friend one last hug, Charity allowed the footman to assist her onto the horse. Then snapping the reins, she sped down the palm-lined entrance, never to see Elias again.

  ♥♥♥

  Torture! Surely this was what hell was like. Endless agony with no relief in sight. Elias sank to the couch and dropped his head in his hands. An ache throbbed behind his temples, adding to the wrenching pain in his gut. He smelled of horses and sweat and anger, and more than anything he wanted to charge into Charity’s bedchamber and demand an explanation. Instead, he had mounted one of Duncan’s prize horses and ridden the poor mare as hard as he could over fields, up hills, then raced through thicketed jungle trails until both man and beast were covered with sweat and sores.

  It hadn’t done any good. Elias was still as distraught and furious as he’d been when he first discovered Charity’s treachery. Treachery, indeed! Murdered her husband? Punching to his feet, he marched to the window where darkness still clung to the estate like a demon of gloom. He refused to believe it! Could he really be that stupid, falling for the lies of two women? Both who pretended to love him only for what they could get from him?

  No! No! No! Growling, he fisted hands at his waist and circled a game table and chairs. He’d seen the signs with Rachel, hints of deception she quickly covered up with flirtations. But Charity. She’d never faltered in her charade. Not once. He passed the buffet, lined with bottles of brandy and port and licked his lips. Of all nights, surely this night he deserved a drink. Beams of moonlight wove red ribbons in the dark liquor, enticing him, luring him, as he reached ever so slowly for it.

  Nay! He snapped his hand back and continued on. Like so many others, the liquor pretended to be his friend at first, only to crush him in the end.

  Lies and Betrayal! Elias pounded his fists on the wall. And him the biggest fool of all. Why? Because he still loved her. She’d lied to him about everything ever since they’d met. But for the life of him, he could not shove her from his heart.

  He plopped down into a chair and groaned. “Why, God, Why? I was going to marry her.”

  A breeze stirred the curtains, shifting moonlight over the table. But no answer came.

  Instead, a vision of Charity swinging from a rope—the same vision that had haunted him all night—emblazoned across his eyes. Charity would hang for her crime. Of that Elias had no doubt. Regardless of her guilt, wealth and influence often weighted the scales of justice.

  How could he allow that to happen to the woman he loved? He had to put aside his own pain, his own sorrow, and think of her. If only he could hear her explanation. Surely she hadn’t meant to kill her husband? If he could but hear her deny it from her own lips…then, maybe then, he would set her free.

  The only problem? The three muscled oafs guarding her.

  “Is it right to even think of freeing her?” He groaned and jumped to his feet. “What do I do, Father? Give me a sign.”

  Footsteps pounded in the hallway, and he jerked his hand to the pistol stuffed in his breeches.

  Caleb, Josiah, and Gage walked into the room.

  “Figured we’d find you here,” Caleb said, approaching Elias.

  “Go away. I want to be alone.”

  “Can’t do that, Cap’n.” Josiah’s huge shadow moved to the window as Gage took up a stance by the door.

  Caleb gripped Elias’ arm. “We thought you might need some assistance.”

  “For what?” Elias couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness, though he had a good idea what he meant.

  “I think you know,” Caleb responded.

  “Don’t let them take her, Captain,” Gage said. “I like the lady. She was always nice to me.”

  Elias sighed. Yes, she had been. In fact, she’d been remarkable in every way. Except in telling the truth. “I can’t ask you to be complicit in anything unlawful.”

  “Unlawful?” Caleb chuckled. “All we are offering is to knock unconscious three intruders.”

  Elias smiled, the first smile in hours. “Gentlemen, I believe we are of the same mind.”

  ♥♥♥

  Charity nudged the horse forward, hoping he knew his way into town. Of course, there was only one road, but this particular road was surrounded—both sides and over the top—by a web of leaves so thick, she felt packed tight in a coffin. Not a very comforting analogy at the moment. Darkness as heavy as ink prevented her from seeing more than a foot in front of her. Still the horse plodded on, despite the croaks and chirps and buzz and the occasional growl emanating from the jungle.

  Accompanied by her constant sobbing. Would she ever run out of tears?

  Every inch down the road brought her closer to freedom…

  And farther away from Elias.

  Another choice in life. Like the many she’d had before—the many in which she’d chosen poorly. Down this road or down that road. Turn left or turn right. Marry this man or another man, get on a ship with her family or stay in Portsmouth, grab her husband’s pistol or let it be. Come or go, leave or stay. And now her final decision—freedom or death. Even though she’d never really consulted God on her decisions, she realized that He had tried to guide her down the right path all along.

  But what was the right path now?

  Swiping tears from her face, she gazed up, hoping to catch a glimmer of moonlight through the canopy. “Father, what would you have me do? What is Your will?”

  She hoped it wasn’t prison, for she’d spent her entire life in a prison of sorts. And this final one would be the worst of all.

  Go back, my daughter.

  “What? Was that You, Father?” Couldn’t be. Surely God wouldn’t want her to hang.

  Go back.

  She tugged on the reins and the horse stopped. Insects buzzed around her in air as thick as the jungle. Perspiration slid down her neck. She recognized that voice! She’d heard it before during her darkest nights when, after Villemont had beaten and ravished her, she’d lain in her bed and cried out to die. The voice had simply said, I love you.

  At the time, she’d thought it was her imagination, her mind going mad with grief and sorrow. But, no. The voice was always soft, the words always short, and the feeling afterward, a
lways one of peace.

  She smiled as a sob rose in her throat. God wanted her to go back. Back to prison, back to death, back to losing her child and everything she feared the most.

  “I can’t.” She hung her head as an owl hooted and the horse pawed the sodden earth. “How can you ask that of me?”

  A breeze came out of nowhere and wafted around her, cooling her skin, and gently brushing her hair as if God were lovingly caressing her, silently telling her all would be well.

  And she knew. She had to obey God. This time, she had to do the hard thing and trust Him.

  With a slight kick to the horse’s flank, she tugged the reins and turned the beast around.

  Chapter 29

  “She’s missing?” Villemont raged across the foyer, his cane banging his displeasure on the tile floor. “What mischief is this? I trusted you!” Halting, he pointed his cane at Elias and then shifted it to Duncan. “You helped her escape. Both of you!”

  “We did no such thing!” Elias feigned indignation and gripped the pommel of his sword. “I resent the implication, milord.”

  “As do I,” Duncan added, brows raised. “I assure you, we are as shocked as you.”

  “Humph.” Red-faced, Villemont tugged on his cravat as if it were choking him. Sunlight streamed through the beveled windows on either side of the front door as servants could be heard in the background preparing the dining hall for breakfast.

  “You posted three armed men at her door and two beneath her window,” Elias said. “Surely if there was a scuffle or shots were fired, you would have heard it since your chamber was beside hers. Do your men say we attacked them, knocked them unconscious with nary a struggle?” Elias shared a glance with Duncan and then with Gage, Josiah, and Caleb standing by his side, weapons at the ready.

  In truth, they had dashed upstairs with the intent on doing just that, but they’d found the guards asleep, the door ajar, and Charity gone.

  Sorrow so deep it threatened to undo him had pressed on Elias, and he chastised himself for not coming sooner. Now, if these buffoons delayed him further, he would never see her again. And the gaping hole forming in his gut told him he would suffer that loss forever.

  But at least she would be free. Of that, he was grateful.

  It hadn’t taken long to determine the culprit. Rose had never been good at telling lies or keeping secrets. Yet when she returned his cross along with Charity’s last words of love, Elias felt unworthy of the mud caking the bottom of his boots. Charity loved him. And he had allowed her to be led away without making a move to stop it or even asking her to explain. She had lied to him about her identity and her husband’s death to protect herself and her babe. He could understand that. But why continue the deception after they’d grown so close? When he could have helped her. Unless…she truly had murdered her husband. Rose insisted there had to be another explanation, and his sister’s instincts in these matters were far better than his. She had been one of the most adamant opponents of his engagement to Rachel.

  But Elias could neither hear Charity’s explanation nor protect her from these men intent on seeing her hang. It was too late. She was gone.

  Villemont’s groan brought Elias to the present. The man’s eyes narrowed as he glared at his men who stood to the side, gazing down at the floor. “I’m no fool. ’Tis obvious you drugged them.”

  “Again, milord, your accusations are without proof and completely unfounded. I am a preacher, as is Caleb Hyde.” Elias gestured to his right. “Grandson of Edmund Merrick Hyde, Lord Clarendon. Mayhap you’ve heard of him?” He waited for a reaction but only saw Villemont’s eyebrow twitch. “We do not lie,” Elias concluded.

  “Preachers! Swounds!” Villemont spit out. “Crooks, the whole lot of you.” He waved his cane through the air and nearly stumbled. Righting himself, he leaned on it and assessed the five of them—Elias, Duncan, Josiah, Gage, and Caleb—all of whom, if Elias had to admit, looked rather formidable fully armed and dressed more like pirates than gentlemen.

  They’d been about to leave in search of Charity when Villemont emerged from his room, gathered his men, and went to retrieve his prize.

  Now, if they could just avoid a bloody altercation.

  And if Villemont and his men would leave…

  Then Elias could seek out Charity before she did something foolish—like set sail unescorted on a ship full of lusty miscreants. Even if she did as she was told and sailed on the Respite, there was no guarantee of her safety.

  Villemont gazed back at his men, then faced forward again, his jaw working, his eyes hard. He must have determined he would lose the fight because he growled and then uttered, “Then let’s be off! We have a murderess to catch!” He gestured toward the door with his cane, then flashed Elias one more searing glance. “Our business is not finished, Sir.”

  Elias gave a mock bow. “I shall await its conclusion with great enthusiasm, milord.”

  Caleb chuckled as Villemont and his men headed for the door. The butler opened it and stood to the side, and just when Elias thought he was free of them, they all stopped suddenly at the threshold.

  Gripping the hilt of his sword, Elias anticipated the man’s change of heart and impending battle when…

  Miss Charity Westcott strolled into the foyer with all the grace and dignity of royalty—chin high and regal smile on her face as if she were attending a ball.

  Gaping at her, the men parted the way as she sashayed forward.

  Elias’ heart leapt into this throat.

  “Gentlemen,” she addressed everyone, her eyes grazing over Elias, a sorrow he’d never seen before tinting their lustrous honey color. “Charles.” She nodded toward Villemont, who continued to stare at her in disbelief. “I understand you’ve been looking for me.”

  With an inhuman growl, Villemont clutched her arm so tight she screeched.

  Elias drew his sword, the chime echoing through the foyer. He leveled it at Villemont’s chest before the rest of the man’s hired reprobates could cock their pistols. “Let her go!”

  “Pshaw! Again? Never!” Villemont faced her. “I have you now, you murdering shrew!”

  Elias pressed the tip of his blade to the man’s chest. Villemont winced and eyed him with spite.

  Charity shook her head. “No, Elias. Leave him be. I will go with him.” Such love and peace poured from her eyes, he could only stare at her, astounded.

  Villemont laughed. “Yes, you will, my dear. And you’ll hang for your crime.”

  “If God wills it,” she returned with confidence.

  What had happened to the mermaid vixen who fought so vehemently for her freedom? Who’d repeatedly risked her life rather than be beholden to anyone?

  Elias kept his sword aimed at Villemont’s heart. “I will run you through, milord, before you even voice the order to kill me.”

  “I’d listen to him if I were you,” Caleb said from behind Elias. “The man is quite good with the blade.”

  Josiah grunted, and out of the corner of his eye, Elias saw Duncan take a position to the left of the mob, pistol raised.

  Still Villemont remained, one hand clutching Charity, the other gripping his cane, his eyes pools of hatred. His men shifted nervously, weapons waving over Elias and the others. Their six men to his five. Good odds since Elias had Caleb and Josiah on his side.

  Tick tock…tick tock…that blasted clock chimed Elias’ doom once again. Outside, the melody of birds and rustle of leaves trilled a happy tune, so at odds with the tension inside where raised weapons formed a maniacal web of death.

  Elias knew they could take them. And from the look in Caleb’s and Duncan’s eyes, they agreed. Blood would be shed. But in the end, Charity would be free. He would not allow her to be taken by this man. He must protect her at all costs! At any cost. Hadn’t he sworn to do so with all those he loved?

  She raised her moist eyes to his, desperate, pleading. Yet not with a pleading to rescue her.

  But a pleading to let her go.


  “What is it going to be, Dutton?” Villemont sneered. “Will you put your life and the lives of your men at risk? And for what? This vixen?” He shook her until she cried out in pain.

  Elias pressed the tip of his blade. A spot of blood appeared on Villemont’s silk waistcoat. He glanced at it briefly then huffed. “Kill me if you wish. My men are under orders to take her back with or without me. They have a reward awaiting them I’m sure they’d not wish to forfeit.” He smiled.

  “Elias. Please. Let me go.” Charity swallowed. “I killed my husband. I did. ’Twas an accident.” She turned to Villemont. “You must know that, Charles. I never meant to—”

  Releasing his cane, Lord Villemont slapped her across the face.

  Elias lowered his sword and barreled into him, knocking him away from Charity. Villemont stumbled backward, a look of horror on his face, before he toppled to the ground. Jumping on the swine, Elias did what he’d been wanting to do since he met the man yesterday. He beat him, fist after fist, across the jaw.

  Villemont’s men shouted and cursed. A pistol fired. But Elias couldn’t stop. All he could think about was Charity, the abuse she had endured at the hands of this man’s brother, and that he, now, wanted to continue that abuse by seeing her hang.

  Shouts filled the room. A sword chimed. Another pistol cracked the air.

  Strong hands that must be Josiah’s yanked Elias from Villemont’s body and hauled him back.

  Panting, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve just as Charity flew into his arms.

  Ah, sweet life! To feel her again. To embrace her and protect her! Cupping her face in his hands, he nudged her back to look up at him, caressing her skin, drinking in the scent of her.

  “I won’t let them take you, Charity.”

  “Nay, Elias.” She stepped back, and the room grew cold. Tears filled her eyes. “Justice must be served. I must have a trial. ’Tis God’s will.”

  The sting of gun smoke bit his nose. Villemont’s men shifted all their pistols onto him. One glance told him none of his men were hurt.