by Lilly Gayle
He raced after her, his heart beating in his throat. “Abby!”
After rounding an apple tree ripe with fruit, he came upon a shallow pond. On the other side, Abby knelt by a blanketed bundle, her hand shaking as she reached for it. Jack slowed his steps, fear stalling his breath.
“Will,” he whispered. “Is our son…”
She turned a panic-stricken gaze on him. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. She turned toward the baby, her hand trembling so much she clasped her hands in her lap and raised her eyes to his once more. “The nun drugged him, and I am afraid…” A sob escaped. She covered her mouth with her clenched hands and cried, “I cannot bear it.”
Jack eased down beside her and reached for the swaddling blankets. He peeled back one corner, revealing Will’s pale face. His mouth was partially opened, but he was breathing. The relief Jack felt was so pronounced, he could not speak. Fighting tears, he handed him to Abby.
She took him in her shaking arms and rained kisses on his tiny head, jostling his little body as she murmured. “Please wake up. Please open your eyes, little one.”
The words were barely more than a whisper, her voice cracking on the last word. Jack swallowed hard and helped her to her feet, pulling both her and the child into his arms. “You’re safe now. You are both safe.”
Abby raised tear-stained cheeks, and a hiccuping sob escaped. “She cut Lydia’s baby from her womb and buried them both here in the garden.” Her eyes were wild, her words hurried and strained, as if she feared she could not get them out fast enough. “She was going to kill me and then Will.”
“I know.” Jack pulled her closer, holding her as tightly as he dared. “She is insane. I spoke with her brother. Sister Mary Daphne had a son. After the boy died, she blamed her sister. Her brother feared she killed her, but the inquest was inconclusive. So, he continued to care for her, letting her come and go as she pleased. I do not think he was aware of just how deeply disturbed she is or to the degree to which she wished to wreak vengeance against those who had what she did not.”
“A family,” Abby whispered. “She wanted a family for her son. She wanted a family for all children, and she wanted to give babies who did not have two parents to Jesus.” She placed a trembling hand on Will’s tiny head and choked back another sob. “Jack, she wanted to kill our son.”
“I do not kill babies!” The nun shrieked as she staggered into the clearing by the pond. She held a hand to her swollen temple, and her glazed eyes were wild in her haunted face. “I send them to Jesus.”
****
Abby clutched her son more closely to her breast, her heart pounding so hard, she feared it would leap from her chest.
“Give me the boy. I must send him to Jesus!” The nun’s eyes were glazed, her face feverish. She gnashed her teeth and waved the knife.
Jack stepped in front of Abby and Will, putting himself between them and the nun, protecting them with his big, solid body. “You will have to go through me to get to them, and that is not going to happen. Now, put down the knife.”
“I cannot.” The nun smiled her crazed smile. “I take orders only from God.”
“And I take orders from her.” Mr. Piebald stepped from the trees and aimed an old flintlock at Jack’s head.
Jack snarled. “You best put that pea shooter away before you hurt yourself.”
“You ain’t got no guns on ye now, guv’nor. So best you be backing away from the lady and chavy, else I blow a hole in yer head.”
Despite the fear coursing through her blood, Abby could feel the rage building in Jack. His body tensed, and he seemed to grow even taller and wider, his body all but hiding her and Will from Mr. Piebald’s vision. “You have one shot in that old flintlock, Piebald. One chance. And whether you miss your mark or not, I will take you apart, limb from limb before you can touch my wife or my son.”
“How much is she worth to ya?” Mr. Piebald smiled, but Abby noted a slight tremor in his jaw. Jack terrified him.
Jack arched his brows. “Everything.”
“Ahh.” Mr. Pieblad relaxed marginally, his dark gaze darting to the nun. Sister Mary Daphne ground her teeth and glared. “Miss Dupree pays me to bring her fallen women. How much will you pay me to walk away?”
Jack smiled. “Not one damn farthing.”
Mr. Piebald drew back the hammer on his flintlock with a trembling hand as Jack lunged. The gun fired, its sharp retort echoing through the trees, startling Will awake. Abby jumped and screamed. “Jack!”
Had he been hit? Or had the gun fired harmlessly into the air? She wanted to run to Jack and check every inch of his body for injuries, but Will’s weakened cries sent terror coursing through her veins. She would give her life for Jack, but not if it meant losing her son. Desperate now, she flung the confining blanket from her son’s limp body and knelt to the ground. Placing Will on her knees, she vigorously rubbed his chest, attempting to stimulate his weak lungs. His mouth opened and only silence emerged, but his face was turning blue with the effort to howl. Abby rubbed faster, jiggling her son on her knees, hoping his lungs would open and air would pour in, giving him the strength to cry. Her efforts seemed to be working as Will worked up a good cry, but then the prick of a blade touched her neck, stilling her fingers.
“Stand up.” The harsh words emerging from Sister Mary Daphne’s voice sounded foreign and feral, and spittle dotted her chin when Abby placed her son on the ground and rose to face her.
She glanced once at her son, who was now crying with renewed strength, and then she sought Jack with her eyes. Blood bloomed on his left coat sleeve as he held his arm and circled Mr. Piebald. Then with an outraged roar, Jack lunged. Mr. Piebald flung his now useless pistol at his head and tried to duck, but Jack’s fist slammed into the side of his face. Abby heard the crunch of bone from six feet away as blood exploded from Mr. Piebald’s nose, and he crumpled to the ground. Sister Mary Daphne shrieked like a banshee, raised her knife, and charged while Jack’s back was turned. Abby screamed, but the nun brought the knife down as Jack was turning and buried it up to the hilt in the same arm Mr. Piebald had shot. Then she pulled out the blade and was about to plunge it in again when Abby hurled herself at the nun and knocked her to the ground.
The nun shrieked again and tried bucking Abby off her back, but before she could make any headway or slash Abby with the knife, Jack pulled her to safety. And when Sister Mary Daphne rose to her feet and lunged again, Jack felled her as he had Mr. Piebald. Only this time, her head arched backward at an impossible angle, and when she went down, her eyes did not close.
Jack had broken her neck.
Epilogue
Abby shivered, hugging Will tighter as the coach slowed. Jack looked down and smiled. His left arm was still in a sling, but he draped his good arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer. She sighed, content for the moment and happy they were finally free to travel.
Following the incident in Shrivenham, the coroner ruled Daphne Dupree’s death a case of manslaughter, and the parish constable arrested Jack and Mr. Piebald. Jack’s privileged status as a viscount kept him out of county lockup, but neither he nor Abby could leave Shrivenham until the magistrate examined the case.
While a local doctor dug bullet fragments from Jack’s arm and stitched up the gaping wound left by the bullet and Miss Dupree’s wicked knife, Jack sent for Mr. Dupree. Once the magistrate took his and Mr. Piebald’s statements, he dismissed all charges against Jack. And after forty-eight hours of questioning, Mr. Piebald pled guilty to conspiracy to commit murder and was sentenced to twenty years hard labor at Newgate Prison. Had he not pleaded guilty, the barrister assured Jack he would have hanged.
Abby shivered again and buried her face in Jack’s side.
“Cold?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
She looked up. “No. Just a bit nervous.”
“Come now. You? Nervous?” He chuckled. “You are the bravest woman I know, and it is not as though you have not already met Gilchrest
and his wife.”
“No, but so much has happened since then.” She straightened, adjusting her son’s weight in her arms. When he was first born, she could have held him for hours without complaint, but he was now five months old, and they had been trapped inside the coach for nearly two hours. Normally, Jack could have held him, but his arm was still in a sling.
“Stop fretting. The past is behind us now, and we have a bright and shining future to look forward to.” He turned toward her and held out his right arm. “Here, place Will in the crook of my arm. I’ll hold him until we get to Land’s End.”
The rest of the trip was uneventful, but the moment the coach rolled up the cobbled stone walk in front of Lord Gilchrest’s home, Abby’s heart started pounding again. Lord and Lady Gilchrest lived in a castle perched on a cliff above the sea. There was no drawbridge and only one tower, but parapets edged the roofline.
“Are they royalty?” she whispered as the coach rolled to a stop.
Jack laughed as he turned, and she took Will from his arms. “No, my love, but Gilchrest’s title dates back to Cromwell’s time and so does the castle. It has been in his family for centuries.”
A shiver passed through her as Jack leaned forward and turned so he could open the door with his right arm. Before either of them could alight from the coach, a man approached with a big, sloppy grin on his face. Abby remembered Jack telling her Lord Gilchrest’s twin brother had suffered a brain fever as a child and had been left somewhat damaged.
“Cap’n Jack!” He reached for Jack’s good arm and shook it vigorously. “How’d ya hurt your arm?”
“It’s a long story, Edward. Would you mind assisting my wife?”
He smiled again, and Abby offered her right hand while holding Will cradled in her left, but rather than reaching for her hand, the big man encircled her waist with his long arms and lifted both her and Will out of the coach and onto the ground. He then leaned forward and kissed the top of Will’s head. “She’s purty.”
“She is a he, Edward.” Jack looked at Abby and winked, causing her heart to flutter up into her chest. “Don’t let the dress fool you. Will is a boy, but he isn’t quite old enough for breeches yet.”
Edward nodded vigorously. “I ’member when Vonn and Trenton was in dresses.” He smiled. “I tease ’em now and call ’em girls when they start to pick on their sister, Charlotte. She’s still a baby, but she’s wearing a dress ’cause she’s a girl.”
Stunned into silence, Abby gaped, as Edward talked non-stop. He was the size and strength of a full-grown man, but he spoke with the boyish enthusiasm of a child. And seeing how Jack interacted with him melted Abby’s heart. Despite Edward’s obvious mental deficiencies, Jack treated him with dignity and respect.
She swiped a tear from her eye and turned as Lord and Lady Gilchrest approached. Two boys, one who appeared to be around six or seven, and another who was possibly a year younger walked beside their father. Lady Gilchrest held a beautiful, dark haired toddler on her hip while a tall, thin young man in his late teens or early twenties walked alongside her.
“Jack! Abby! I am so happy you made it.” Nikki leaned forward and brushed a kiss on Abby’s cheek before turning worried eyes on Jack. “Goodness, what happened to your arm?”
“It’s a long story,” Jack said as he shook hands with Lord Gilchrest.
The earl nodded to Jack’s sling. “Well, you will have plenty of time to give me the gory details over brandy and cigars.”
Jack smiled. “Still getting drunk whenever you are forced to entertain guests, Gilchrest?”
“Hardly!” He snorted but then smiled. “But you are here to celebrate your birthday and celebrate we shall.” He then turned toward Abby and scooped Will from her arms. “Here, let me take this little guy from you.”
Without Will, Abby felt naked and exposed until Jack draped his good arm over her shoulder. Then Nikki smiled down at her two sons. “The oldest, Vonn, is almost seven, and Trenton is five.”
“He didn’t stop wearing dresses until last year,” Edward said with a snicker.
Trenton glared. “Be quiet, Uncle Edward.”
“Boys.” The single word spoken by Lord Gilchrest stilled grumbling tongues. Even Edward bowed his head in silence.
Nikki jiggled the baby on her hip. “And this little lady is Charlotte. She will be two in March.”
Abby brushed a dark curl from the child’s chubby cheek and smiled. “She is quite the beauty, but I bet you have your hands full.”
“Yes, but my mother helps, as does Ralph.” She reached behind her until the young blond man stepped forward. “This is Ralph. He’s been with us since he was fourteen.”
“Ma’am.” Ralph nodded shyly and smiled. Then he looked at Nikki. “Do you want Edward and me to take the children into Mother Bea so she can watch them?”
“Mother Bea is what Edward and the children call my mother,” Nikki said before calling Edward over. “Would it be all right with you if Ralph and Edward carry the children inside so mother can watch them?”
Edward took Charlotte from Nikki’s arms and promptly perched the toddler on his shoulders. She squealed with delight, apparently unafraid of the big man. Perhaps, because he looked like her father, or maybe she felt safe in his care. But Abby did not feel safe giving Will to strangers. Since the incident at Shrivenham, she had not let Will out of her sight for a second.
She glanced at Jack, but he and Lord Gilchrest were huddled in conversation. The earl held Will on his hip as if he weighed no more than a stone. She did not like the earl holding her son, but Jack was right there if Will needed him. But who would be there for her son if she allowed Edward and Ralph to take them inside? “I…”
Concern colored Ralph’s expression. “I am quite good with children.”
Still, Abby held her tongue as fear ate at her self-control. She wanted to grab her son and wrap him in her arms, never letting him go. Her pulse quickened. So did her breathing. She sought out Jack, her gaze finally meeting his. And just like that, he seemed to know her fears. He reached for Will with his good arm and brought him to her. “He is quite safe here, my love.”
He tipped Will forward so she could kiss the top of his head. Then with a smile, he handed the boy to Ralph who then herded Edward, Vonn, and Trenton toward the castle.
Nikki stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on Abby’s shoulders. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I just thought you could use a break from holding him, but if you prefer—”
“No.” Abby’s heart rose into her throat. “It is not you. It’s just that we have been through so much these last few weeks.”
Gilchrest looked at Jack, arching his brows. “Another long story?”
Jack draped his good arm over Abby’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “All part of the same story, which I would love to tell you just as soon as you pour me a glass of your fine brandy.”
“And perhaps we can split a bottle of Madeira?” Nikki asked Abby.
Jack chortled and pulled her closer. “I bet she’d prefer rum.”
“Jack!” Abby punched him in his good shoulder and then cringed when he grabbed his injured arm and grimaced. Both Nikki and her husband laughed.
Gilchrest slapped Jack on the back and grinned. “Then let’s break open a bottle of rum and get this birthday celebration started.”
****
Once inside the castle, Abby met Nikki’s mother, Mrs. Keller, who insisted on being called Mother Bea. Apparently, she was not only the children’s grandmother, but their nursemaid and tutor. And Edward was her assistant, or so he claimed, but Abby figured he was just another beloved child in Mother Bea’s eyes. She somehow managed to dote on him as if he were a young schoolboy while treating him with the respect due a gentleman. And Edward relished the attention. He also minded her as easily as he had minded his brother when she asked for assistance herding the children upstairs. Ralph stayed in the library with the adults. The men drank brandy, and the ladies did indeed have r
um while Jack and Abby filled them in on everything that had happened since Lord Chivington’s soiree two months ago.
“Oh you poor thing.” Nikki leaned forward to take Abby’s hands. “I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been.”
“It was awful.” Abby shivered. “But now that it is over, I can’t help feeling some sympathy for Miss Dupree. She suffered untold tragedies.”
“Is it any wonder she went mad?” Nikki agreed. “Women can be such fragile creatures.”
Jack ground his teeth. “Do not be so naïve. That crazy nun killed a dozen women and infants. She was as dangerous as any man.”
“And vindictive,” Gilchrest added. “She may have been more malicious than insane.”
“Really, Chad.” Nikki let go of Abby’s hands and glared at her husband. “Do not be so insensitive.”
“Insensitive?” He all but roared. “That nun you are feeling so sorry for tried to kill Ardmore’s wife and son!”
“And she very nearly killed me,” Jack added in his calm, but lethal voice. “She stabbed me in the very arm that had just taken a bullet.”
Nikki gasped. “Oh my! What happened?”
Leaving out some of the gorier details, Jack explained how he obtained his injury. “But had it not been for Abby hurling herself at the nun when she did, there is no telling how things might have turned out.”
“Very heroic of you, Lady Ardmore,” Lord Gilchrest said, but he only had eyes for his wife, as if they had shared a similar experience in the past. “It quite astounds me when women rally their strength and overcome nearly insurmountable odds in defense of their family. It is really quite unsettling.”
Nikki arched her brows. “Why do you sound so surprised? Inside every woman is a ferocious mother bear that will go to great lengths to save her children. Whether those children are hers or someone else’s, her husband, or her family, most women have within them the capacity to maim and kill anyone who poses a threat to those they love.”