by Silver, Lily
Oh, Bollocks, this could go very badly if someone came upon them so.
She made a little noise in her throat and pushed at him. He released her immediately.
Once the proprieties were back in place Elizabeth confessed her husband’s peculiar behavior in the past weeks. She ended with “Is he mad, Captain? I must know.”
The captain scrunched up his face and gazed at the sea. “Troubled, yes, eccentric, undoubtedly, but mad, no! Has he spent any time with you? What about dinner?”
“He eats with the servants.” Elizabeth confided. “As Mr. O’Rourke. The maids are all silly over him. They talk about trying to capture his fancy, right in front of me! It’s humiliating.”
He touched her arm and looked as if he might embrace her again. “I’ll talk to him.”
“No.” Elizabeth protested, looking about with alarm. “I’ve been trying to make the best of it---but then, Peter sent me that note and I knew I had to risk confiding in someone in case something awful happens.”
Rawlings swore and turned away. One hand fisted at his side. “You shouldn’t have to make the best of it.” He sighed and turned back to her. “Do you wish to leave him, is that it?”
“Oh--I-I--” She shook head and turned away before completing her denial, afraid the captain might see the truth in her eyes. “If I were in England, sir, I would have sought sanctuary with my grandfather. How am I to live with a man who hides and behaves as if I do not exist?”
“You shouldn’t have to put up with that. I’ll talk to him---“
“No—please--he’ll be angry. I’ll have to face his wrath after you leave. I’m frightened, Captain. I don’t know what to do, but I cannot go on like this any longer!”
Jack took her hand. “I’ll see you through this, my lady, I promise; one way or another.”
There was a crunching of gravel and voices approaching, Peter’s voice answered by a languid colonial drawl with just the hint of an Irish burr in it.
“There they are.” Peter came running up to Elizabeth. “You weren’t funning me, my lady. He’s bigger than Corky. I’d like to know what you’re feeding Puck.”
“Jack!” Donovan slapped his friend on the back, smiling.
“How are you two love birds getting along?” Rawlings responded without a smile.
Elizabeth waited with Jack, curious to hear Donovan’s reply.
“Every man should have a wife as fine as my Lizzie. The house smells of lemon oil instead of dust and mildew.” Donovan placed a possessive arm about Elizabeth.
Flustered, Elizabeth turned to the boy. “Peter, we’ve strawberries from the hothouse that have ripened. Would you like some? I’ve been longing for someone to share them with.”
At the boy’s acceptance, she extracted herself from her husband’s cloying embrace and hurried up the path. After gaining several feet away from the men, she turned and shot the captain a pleading look. Please don’t say anything--please don’t betray me!
The captain’s grim sidelong glance told her he would make no promises on that account.
*******
“Damned fine woman.” Donovan sighed, watching his delightful bride move gracefully down the garden path and up to the house with Peter in tow.
“Yeah.” Jack agreed, “Tell me, are you hoping to keep her?”
As expected, those pale eyes swung about to meet him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Do you wish to stay married to the girl? Because let me tell you, she’s ready to bolt. She’s talking about going back to England to live with her grandfather and after hearing how badly you’ve treated her I’m inclined to help her do just that.” Jack spat out, knowing he’d not planned it out carefully as he probably should have. He couldn’t think of how to put it down tactful and clever, not when he wanted very much to hurt this man.
“What did she tell you? I haven’t touched her. Damn it, I’ve kept away from her--“
“Shut up.” Jack held up his free hand, distracting his adversary. He had a pistol in his jacket pocket and he had it leveled at the notorious pirate known as The Raven. If Donovan started swinging Jack knew his only chance was to shoot him in the knee so he couldn’t stand. “I know you can take me down with those fancy fighting moves you learned in India. But if I don’t return to Basseterre come sunset, there will be people coming here to find out why.”
“Why would I wish to harm you?”
“Because, old friend, I might be taking Mrs. Beaumont to Basseterre with me.”
“Like hell you are! She’s not going anywhere with you.”
“If she still wants to leave here after you and I finish this conversation, I am taking her with me. When you married that girl you entered the world outside your laboratory. She’s not a specimen you can keep trapped under a bell jar awaiting your whims. She’s a young lady with feelings and fears. Fears about your sanity, thanks to your masquerade, fears about what you’ll do to her after I leave here today because I’m telling you this when she begged me not to.”
“I would never hurt her. You know that, Jack.”
“I’m not the one you have to convince. Like I said, if I don’t get back by sunset, more people will be coming here to find out why the tortured, reclusive count is keeping a young woman here against her will. And before they come, they’ve been instructed to pass along what they know to others, in case they don’t return.” The tension in Jack’s body made him feel brittle.
“Do I look mad to you?” Donovan asked as he held out his hands. “Do you think I’d deliberately terrify the woman I love?”
“Does she know that you love her?” Jack countered. His question was met with rolled eyes, as if it were bloody well obvious she knew the man cared for her. “Have you told her you love her? No? Trust me; women are particular about those trifling little details.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Donovan looked about with impatience. “I need to ride over to the mill and check the progress on the new windmill blades I’ve had to replace after the storm last month so they’re ready for the cane harvest next month and then I have to go over the--”
“And you asked me a question I haven’t yet answered.” Jack interrupted. “You asked me if I thought you were mad, if I thought you’d deliberately terrify your wife. It doesn’t matter what I think, Donovan; I’m not married to you. You’re not scaring me one minute as the ferocious count and then scolding me the next as Mr. O’Rourke, coldly laying out rules for me to follow here as if I were one of your indentures instead of your bride.”
“We had a misunderstanding. I was drunk. I apologized, that was weeks ago.”
“Yes, that was weeks ago. But let’s keep going. Let’s examine the evidence from her perspective.” Jack countered. “How would you feel if you were brought to an isolated estate and ignored? How long would you be able to tolerate your maids talking openly in front of you about capturing your husband’s fancy because they think Mr. O’Rourke is a bachelor? How long would you endure your husband pretending he’s a fucking servant in his own house? Tell me, old friend, if you were eighteen years old would you feel safe living with the man I described? Would you feel loved by him?”
“Wait.” Donovan thrust up a hand. “I don’t give a damn about those wenches in the kitchen. I’ve been eating with the servants to wheedle out the bad seed. She has these spells, Jack.” He made a motion with his hand near his head. “Bouts of confusion. Petite Seizures. She’s disorientated and vulnerable when she emerges from one. I have to make certain the new servants won’t take advantage of her during those times. I fired two footmen already. They were gambling over her, Jack, laying out bets as to which one of them would succeed in bedding her in the coming months. Do you think I want that trash in my house, near my darling?”
“The darling you’ve not spent an hour with in the past two weeks? The darling who wrote to me because she’s scared out of her wits after living here alone with you?”
*******
The fountain water was
refreshing as it sluiced down Elizabeth’s body in the stifling mid-afternoon heat. She’d been pleased to learn that it was just a matter of turning on the pump mechanism to get this lovely tile pool with the fountain running again. She was standing with Peter in the bottom pool of the three tiered fountain in the front drive, letting the cool spray of water from the second tier wash over her. The strawberries were a sweet memory. Their empty bowls sat on the edge of their impromptu bathing pool as they laughed and splashed one another.
Peter kicked a spray of water at her. Elizabeth bent and cupped her hands, returning his assault with a sharp skiff of water, right in his face. He gasped and kicked at her again.
“Oh, look!” She squinted into the water as little squiggly creatures swum around her ankles. “Some kind of fish is in here.”
“Those are tadpoles.” Peter cupped his hands and caught one. He stepped close and held it up for her inspection. “See, they’ve got little legs growing out their backsides.”
Elizabeth shivered. “Oh, this water is starting to feel cold.”
“We could swim in the ocean, and then lie in the sun and bake ourselves like clams.”
“I don’t know how to swim.” Donovan had promised to teach her. He promised many things during the voyage and she believed him.
The sound of boots on the cobblestones made her look up from the pool. The men were coming around from the back of the house, approaching them with determined strides. Elizabeth looked down at her muslin gown. The fabric was wet, nearly transparent and clinging to her body. Oh, Bollocks! She’d been caught breaking his rules again, wandering outside alone. Judging by the grim look on her husband’s face, she’d be paying for her folly as soon as the captain left.
“Uncle Jack!” The boy sprinted out of the pool and rushed up to the captain.
“Let’s let these two have a moment.” Rawlings grabbed his nephew by his neck to guide him to the front steps. “Oh, your skin feels like ice. Go inside and get out of those wet clothes.”
Elizabeth stood in the knee deep pool, her arms crossed about her to hide the nipples poking out from her now transparent bodice. She kept her gaze down to avoid the somber man on the edge of the pool who was watching her with pale, penetrating blue orbs.
“Elizabeth.” Donovan held out his hand, directing her to step out of the pool.
She shook her head, unable to take that hand. The tightness in her chest made her feel as if she might break into a thousand pieces if she moved or breathed.
The water sloshed about her calves. Donovan had stepped into the fountain. She focused on his boots, unable to meet his austere eyes.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He said in the velvet tone. “I’m sorry.”
Elizabeth nodded, uncertain, as he stood before her with his friend looking on. Was he trying to appear contrite now that Rawlings was involved? Was he sincere? She didn’t dare look at him for fear she’d find not love in his eyes, but contempt.
The silence was making her ill. She felt nauseous, light headed and cold.
“Don’t leave me. I’ll change. I swear it.” He whispered.
Bewildered, Elizabeth looked up at him. She was unprepared for pleading from a man she believed had come to despise her. “I don’t wish to leave, sir.”
“Tell me what I need to do to make you happy here.”
“I can’t go on like this.” She pushed the words out. Sharp as they were, they sliced raw trails of pain inside her throat. She was determined to speak her heart no matter the cost. “I cannot endure your contempt any longer. Don’t you understand? I spent my childhood being unwanted baggage in one man’s house. Afraid of his temper, afraid of being beaten—afraid of breaking his damn rules—I will not spend my life being unwanted baggage in another--”
“I would never hurt you.” Donovan interjected, grasping her by the shoulders. “And I want you, Elizabeth, I want you; more than you can imagine.”
“You’ve a strange way of showing it. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“What I wanted? Then why do I feel as if I’m being punished? All you ever do is snarl at me. You act as if you can’t stand me—as if you regret marrying me—“
“No!” His grasp tightened on her arms. “I love you, Elizabeth. I would do anything for you, anything you ask. I’ll do whatever I must to make things right between us.”
Only the water from the fountain could be heard behind them in the agonizing seconds that passed. Elizabeth stood still, weighing his words.
His eyes were wide, pleading, never wavering from her regard as he waited for her response.
“I cannot live in fear of your dark count anymore.” She went on in a rush of pent up emotion. “I’ll have no more of your disguises. No more games of intrigue, no more watching you pretend to be a bachelor with the maids, or wondering which one will become your mistress!”
“—Lizzie--it’s not like that—I’m trying to protect--“
“O’Rourke, unhand the lady at once.” Giles was standing on the other side of the fountain, a blanket in his hand and dangerous look on his face. “Come, Madame, the boy said you were chilled.” He held out the blanket, waiting for her to step out of the fountain.
“Its fine, Giles, back off!” Donovan said dismissively.
“No! It is not fine.” The Englishman scolded. “You are bullying my mistress again and we will not tolerate such behavior. Come, Madame, away from this brute.”
Elizabeth glared at Donovan, waiting for him to prove he meant those pretty words he just said. Waiting for him to prove this was not just an act for the benefit of his friend.
“Giles, assemble the servants.” Donovan said. “I need to make an announcement.”
“One more condition,” Elizabeth decided to make the best of it while she had the chance. “I want Giles to be my butler, the head of the household staff instead of Tabby.”
“Consider it done.” Donovan boldly kissed her cheek before releasing her and stepping out of the pool. He clapped Giles on the shoulder. “You passed with flying colors, old boy.”
“My lady?” Giles intoned, waiting for her to explain the stable master’s odd behavior.
Not up to the task of explaining her husband’s elaborate masquerade, she stepped out of the pool. Donovan took the blanket and wrapped it about her shoulders. Elizabeth shivered. Her legs felt boneless. It seemed the ground had been transformed to pitching seas. She swallowed the coppery taste in the back of her throat. A peculiar detachment was stealing over her.
She heard her husband cursing as the world was plunged into an inky darkness.
Chapter Twenty Three
“God-damn-it!” Donovan caught Elizabeth, preventing her head from slipping to the cobblestones. Sinking to his knees while holding her torso against him, he jerked off a glove with his teeth and placed two fingers in her mouth to prevent her from choking on her tongue.
“Find his lordship, quickly!” The middle aged footman shouted, causing Donovan to look up for a brief instant. The courtyard had been empty moments ago. Now a pack of wide eyed maids stood watching with a mixture of horror and fascination as their mistress convulsed and jerked like a fish on the docks beneath the effects of a full blown grand mal seizure.
“I’m right here.” He insisted. His declaration went unheard over the footman’s bellowing. He concentrated on the convulsing girl whose head was cradled on his knees. “I’m here, Lizzie. It’s all right.” He glanced about for Jack and was relieved to see the man emerge from the front door with Pearl hurrying after him. The pair brushed past the line of bewildered servants and knelt to assist him rather than join the fools gathered as if to watch a freak show.
“Don’t just stand there like stupid cows.” Giles shrieked. “Find the count. He’s a doctor!” The maids scurried into the house to search for a man who did not exist.
“Pearl, tell Giles who I am.” Donovan said, as the convulsions eased. Elizabeth became de
athly still. “Lizzie.” He pleaded. “Don’t do this, Sweetheart, you need to stay awake.”
“Let’s get her inside.” Jack suggested, touching Donovan’s shoulder.
“Yes, my lord.” A very florid Giles added, as Pearl nodded beside him. “Her ladyship will be more comfortable in a soft bed.”
Once he had Elizabeth safely in his room, he began to remove her wet clothing.
“Shame on you, O’Rourke!” Elizabeth’s maid slapped his hand away from her mistress. “Go find his lordship.” She ordered in a Spanish accent softened by her Caribbean upbringing.
“I am his lordship.” Donovan snapped, now thoroughly exasperated by the ruse.
Pearl entered the chamber with his physician’s case. “What else can I do, my lord?”
“Oh!” Chloe sputtered, gazing at him with alarm. “Por favor, she did not say anything!”
“I instructed her not to.” Donovan replied. Chloe helped him remove Elizabeth’s wet clothing. A slice of fear went through him as he discovered bruising along his wife’s hips and ribcage. Judging by the discoloration, they were several days old. Recalling her penchant for climbing ladders, he looked to the maid. “How did this happen? Did she fall recently?”
“I do not know, my lord.” Chloe returned, but the look in her eyes unsettled him.
The sun lowered in the sky.
Elizabeth remained unconscious.
Donovan forgot Jack was downstairs until Pearl came to inform him the captain was leaving. He didn’t want to leave Elizabeth’s side, so he had his valet escort Jack up to his suite.
“All this time,” Jack stood at the foot of the bed, “and she’s not regained consciousness?”
Donovan nodded, resentment mingling with his fear as he sat beside his wife.
“What happened in the courtyard?”
“A brain seizure. I won’t know how serious until she regains consciousness.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Jack promised, stepping close to grasp Donovan’s shoulder.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, it is.” Jack’s voice, like his, quickly dropped the friendly tone. “I promised Elizabeth I would see her through this and I intend to keep that promise.”