Bittersweet Endeavors

by Tamara Ternie

  Her flesh crawled at the sound of the endearment and she wanted to push him aside and run to Seth, but she held her place. “I must’ve swooned from all the excitement.”

  “Aye, precisely, it must’ve been the excitement.” He snorted his displeasure. “I suspect you have your own reasons for conceding to be my wife, Myra. I don’t know those reasons and I don’t particularly care. Nevertheless, I aim to set something straight.” He walked to the other side of the small room, crossed his arms, and stared down at her. A frown creased his thin lips, but it was quickly replaced by a snare. “A blind fool could see there’s something between you and Seth Preston tonight. I’ll not be embarrassed by such a display again. Is that understood?”

  “This is a mistake, Mister Frederickson. Seth has returned and by the grace of God is alive. Being such, I wish to decline your marriage proposal.”

  The moment the words left her mouth, he lunged at Myra and pinned her across the bed. Her back was pushed into the recesses of the bed, and his body pressed heavily atop hers. His hot breath burned hot across her cheek and Myra turned her face to the side so not to look at him. Her body trembled but she willed herself to stay calm.

  “You’ll not befool me!” Her fingers had numbed by the grip he placed onto her wrists, and Zachary tightened his hold. Myra winced out in pain. “You shall marry me, Myra,” he bit out. “We shall go into town tonight and finish this. I’ll have you in my home and bed this very night and wipe out any trace of Seth Preston from your mind, and if you continue to think of him again after this day, I shall find other ways to remove any memory of him.” His hand reached out and grasped a thick handful of her hair. He twisted tightly and wrapped the ebony strands around his hand and yanked hard. She yelped out in pain.

  Myra stared at Zachary and her eyes were wide with fear. Too afraid to move, to run, but yet frightened if she stayed he’d carry out his plan of marriage. She looked at the door and willed for Seth to return, and closing her eyes, she fervently prayed that he’d hear her silent plea.

  She startled when he rose from the bed and took her body violently against his. He fiercely pressed his lips onto hers and kissed her bestially hard. She tried to push him away, fight him, but his strength was too much for her to fend off. He released her after he ended the kiss, and she held onto his arms for support, as she was still dazed by his unwanted advances. Once she realized he no longer held her, she stepped back and slapped him hard across his face.

  “Leave me be,” she spat. “I’ll not marry you! Seth will never allow you to get away with this!”

  “Is that so…Lady Myra?” He paused a moment and allowed the words to slowly absorb into her mind before he said, “Aye, Lady Myra, daughter of Lord Brunnington, and what is more important to me, a cousin to The King. Did you think that I’d be this forceful for the lone sake of,” he paused, and slowly let swept his gaze across her body. “Well, you?”

  He laughed until she felt each fine hair upon her body raise and a shiver ran down her spine. She wondered if he had sent information to her uncle and Mary was harmed.

  “I know everything, milady. I heard much about you from Margaret. Charmed by your supposed tale of being royal blood, she relayed it to me. Fortunately, I took it much more seriously and sent a post to England and learned the truth.”

  “Whom did you send your letter?” she asked, frightened. If it was to her uncle, he’d come after her, and she assumed the worst as to what he’d had already done to Mary.

  “Ah, and what would you say if I sent it to Lord Brunnington?” His brow raised and he waited for her reply.

  Myra gasped.

  “No need to be troubled, my sweet. That is, no need to fret…yet. Your secret is safe with me for now. I learned the information by way of discretion, as I sent a runner to obtain it. T’was not difficult to realize that your arrival here as an indenture, and your parents’ disappearance, followed by your uncle’s new position as Lord Brunnington led to foul play.” He looked at her for a moment and sighed. “I can help you, Myra, as you can help me.”

  She didn’t respond. He paced the room and paused for a moment, but he then made his strides back and forward again. After a few more steps, he stopped in front of her. Myra watched the door, and still hoped that Seth would return and save her from the beastly man who stood in front of her.

  “T’was a time I was in good favour with the court, under King Charles the First. Yet due to a misinterpretation of my allegiance after The King’s death, that is no longer. Since his death, my good name has been ruined and our present king wishes vengeance for his father, despite I’ve been given amnesty. I have been forced to leave England, my home,” he explained, angrily. He looked at her a moment and then he smiled. “But,” he said enthusiastically, “A marriage to you is a chance for my return to England and regain my status, as well as earn favour with our present king. If you willingly agree to see this marriage, I can assure you, I’ll not let harm come to your sister, as I am sure that is how your uncle is keeping your current silence and your willingness to live this life,” he said, and waved his hand toward the humble contents within the abode.

  Myra realized what Lucia had told her was true—Zachary had been accused of betraying their former king, and despite his objections otherwise, she believed it true. King Charles would never forgive him for being a traitor to his father nor would he accept him as a cousin-in-law! Certainly a marriage to her wouldn’t matter in his eyes. How foolish it was for Zachary to believe it would.

  “I don’t want or need your protection,” she seethed out. “Seth shall protect me!”

  His face reddened, and Zachary grabbed her by the arms and roughly shook her. “I’ll not hear that man’s name from your lips again. Do you hear me?”

  “By all that’s holy, I swear I’ll not marry you. Seth shall protect me from my uncle and you,” she defiantly added.

  He pushed her aside and mocking laughter trailed behind him when he walked to the other side of the wigwam. “How sure are you, Myra?”

  Her head tilted upward, and with all the power and faith within her, she confidently stated, “Aye, he shall.”

  His arm waved toward the door and he slightly bowed. “Then go. Go and find your Seth.”

  She wondered why he easily relented and why he was willing to let her loose. She looked at him with uncertainty. “You’ll not stop me?”

  “Nay, but I intend to send a post to your uncle by the morrow. So, dear Myra, if you plan to return to me—which I am sure you shall—I do hope you make it in time before I send out the letter to Lord Brunnington and warn him of how you’ve let his treachery be made public. It’ll not bode well for you…and most surely not for your sister.”

  Myra looked at the door and then back to Zachary. His eyes widened and mocked her to go forward, to leave. Fear seized her. Myra wondered why he was so confident that she’d return to him and Seth would refuse her. It made her consider what he and Seth argued about when she was unconscious.

  “What have you done?”

  “Tis not what I have done that shall stop him, but what you have done.” He laughed and walked closer to her until he stood in front of her. He smoothed her hair with the palms of his hands and smiled down on her. “He had not yet been declared dead but you were so eager to jump into my bed. How well do you think that sat with Seth when I informed him of your readiness to do so?” A scornful smile spread to his lips and he broke into unnatural laughter.

  Myra went to the door and flung it open. She ran as fast as her body allowed, and she heard Zachary’s laughter nearly all the way to her destination. She finally made it to the lake where she and Seth spent much of their time together before he left. In the distance, she saw his muscular form as he stood and watched over the lake. She ran to him and hoped he’d wrap his arms around her, as she greatly needed to feel the protection of his arms again. When she stood a few feet from him, he turned his head and looked at her. The fury that reflected in his eyes came ten-fold more severe t
han she worst imaged.

  He hated her.

  “Seth, please. Let me explain.”

  With forceful strides, he made his way toward her. A muscle in his jaw tightened and the many days of beard growth on his chin shadowed his youthful, pleasant features. He looked like a scoundrel and it frightened her. He wasn’t the man she knew. No, the man before her was a stranger and not the man she had fallen in love with. She stepped back from him and cringed when she feared he may strike her.

  “Why are you here, Myra?” he demanded.

  “I need to explain.”

  ”I’ve heard enough,” he shouted, and cut her words off. “Go to Zachary. As I have had my fair share in the use of your wares, it can be his opportunity now.”

  “Use of my wares?” she repeated.

  “Surely you never believed it was anything more, did you?” His laugh was cold and bitter. “Cassandra is the woman I shall be marrying. You were just…well, let’s just say, someone who made good sport for practice so I might aptly please her once wedded.”

  “You lie to hurt me,” she whispered, and she prayed it wasn’t true. His love had been too genuine for him to try to declare it false. “I do not intend to marry Zachary, Seth, tis you I love!” She edged toward him and attempted to embrace him, but he grabbed her wrists and impeded her movement. He looked down into her eyes and there wasn’t a semblance of the love that she once saw within them. Only his loathing for her remained.

  “Love?” he scoffed. “You think me dead and on the same day agree to marry that man?” He shook his head with disgust and laughed. “Leave, Myra. I want naught to do with you or that bastard you carry.”

  Myra flinched as if he had slapped her. Tears flowed from her eyes and stung her cheeks, and Seth showed no outward signs that he cared that she was hurt by his words.

  “Seth, there are reasons why, and tis necessary my explanations are heard. I am truly The King’s cousin and—”

  “You dare try to play me false, again, by your fanciful stories? Are there no limits to your deceptions, Myra?” he shouted. “I shall not hear another word from your mouth,” he yelled. “Tis over, and I shan’t be played a fool again.” He brushed harshly past her and walked away.

  Myra turned and stared after him. She waited, hoped, and prayed he would turn around. But he didn’t. She wondered how the kind and gentle man she knew suddenly transformed into someone so cruel and callous. Hadn’t Lucia explained that it was the same way Anvil reacted toward her mother? Anvil had been greatly in love with Hester until he learned she carried his child. Perhaps, tis the way of all men, at least, the Preston men, she surmised. She didn’t think her heart was going to survive his rejection.

  She looked toward the direction Seth had taken, and he was nearly gone from her sight, and a moment later, he disappeared within the brush of the woods. She then grasped the totality of her situation—he was lost to her forever.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  215

  Zachary answered the door after she knocked. A devilish grin traced his lips and she inhaled a deep breath and attempted to uphold her dignity. She detected a strong whiff of a fragrance emitting from him and her stomach careened at the biting aroma.

  “As I suspected you might, you have returned, Lady Myra,” he said, and he held his arm out to her. She reluctantly held onto his elbow and he led her into the library.

  “I want this done tonight. I have a man of cloth in residence for the evening,” he said.

  She swallowed hard but his declaration didn’t surprise her. Perhaps getting it done quickly was for the best. “I want to discuss the…the arrangement before we do so.” She tried to sound confident and unalarmed, but it was a difficult task when all she wanted to do was run from his presence and back to—nay, she mustn’t think of Seth, nor ever think of Seth again. Her hands shook and she instinctually brought them to her stomach, and she softly caressed the unborn child that grew within her. No matter what, she thought, a part of Seth would be with her forever.

  Zachary’s eyebrow perked in question. “Arrangement?” he asked, suspiciously.

  “Aye,” she replied. “If you want to regain The King’s faith, you must convince him that you are worthy of his cousin, at least, do you not?” She refused to give him an opportunity to reply. She rose from her seat and walked across the room and turned to look at him. “That being the situation, I wish to strike a bargain with you, Mister Frederickson. I shall agree to tell my cousin Charles only kind words of you and shall plea your case before my cousin’s court…if,” she said sternly, “This is a marriage in name only—we shan’t consummate our vows.”

  He laughed.

  “If not,” she said forcefully, “I’ll not go through with this and shalt return to England and reap whatever wrath I must by my return.”

  “Oh, you shall marry me, one way or another,” he said slowly.

  “Nay, Mister Frederickson, it shall be only my way.” She pierced him with a stare and wished the stab would reach his beastly heart. “Once you’ve returned to good favour with The King, I plan to reestablish myself in England once matters are settled with my uncle. More plainly, sir, I intend to return to Brunnington alone.”

  The corner of his lip twitched and his jaw tightened. It pleased her that she removed the smug look from his face. Zachary’s future rested solely on his relationship with The King. He was an immoral sort, but he wasn’t dimwitted. She was sure he’d agree to her proposal.

  “So be it, Lady Myra. It shall be a marriage in name only,” he conceded, but the gleam in his eye suggested that he didn’t entirely surrender.

  “Also, I want my friend Lucia in service. I want you to retrieve her bond from Anvil Preston.”

  “Being Anvil’s daughter, he shan’t give her up.”

  “Then you must convince him otherwise, Mister Frederickson. As Mister Preston is greedy in nature, I believe throwing him some extra coins to sweeten the deal.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “If not, there’s no bargain struck here amongst us.”

  “Then it shall be done,” he said.

  “And as for my sister?” she asked.

  “Once we’re wedded and I conclude business that I have presently going on here in the colonies, we shall set forth to England and settle both our purposes. We can set sail in a few months, perhaps more. It shall give you time to realize I’m not bad of a sort, and make your argument to the king more convincing. It shall also afford me the time to devise well laid plans to recover your sister without harm.”

  “I shan’t risk her life by going to The King before she’s found and safely away from my uncle,” she added. “It’s doubtful she still remains at Brunnington. In spite of the situation he’s placed me; he’s cunning enough to suspect that I may attempt to retrieve her. You’ll need to make discreet inquiries as to her whereabouts.”

  “I shall send inquiries on the morrow.” He curtly nodded his head.

  Myra curtsied before him, and without a by your leave, she departed the room and sought out her new bedchamber.

  * * *

  “What do you mean you shan’t be returning to Cambridge?” Anvil’s voice rose so loud that the crystal glass filled of wine quaked in his hand.

  “I’ll not finish my education at this time, father. Tis that simple.”

  “But, Seth, you must consider your future. Educated men find respect and status here, not the ones who lay idle.”

  Seth wanted to scoff at that. His future was to be with Myra, and now that wasn’t ever going to happen. There was nothing for him to look forward to except his loneliness. Nay, Seth thought, his education mattered naught without Myra at his side. That had been his reason for not staying in London. Once the storm repairs had been made to his ship while at sea, they had returned to the port in England, but Seth stepped off the ship and boarded another that was bound for the colonies, and back to Myra. He knew it had been a mistake to have left her and he wanted to return posthaste. He wished he had realized his poor judgment before h
e first left the colonies. Perhaps, then, he’d not have lost her.

  “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying!” Anvil slammed his beaker down onto the table and threw his hands upward in defeat. “If you’re thinking about that girl, forget it, Seth. She shall be wedded by the morrow.”

  If Anvil’s shouting didn’t pull him out of his rumination, the declaration of her soon wedded status did. “On the morrow they wed? So soon?” he stammered.

  “Perhaps even tonight,” he declared. “Push her from your mind, Seth. It shall not serve well to dwell on her or what she has done to you. Let it go and move onward.”

  The thought crossed his mind to run and beg her not to go through with it, but he knew he couldn’t. When he thought about how quickly she sought out another man after he left Jamestown made him physically ill, and when she thought him dead, she didn’t even stop and mourn his loss. Nay, he thought angrily, she accepted another man’s proposal. He exhaled his frustrations and turned to his father. “My thoughts shan’t be tarrying over her or her marriage to Frederickson, father. Myra made her choice and now she shalt live with it.”

  “Very good, son, I find great relief in hearing those words.” Anvil patted him on the back. “Tis a good idea if you show your good faith by way of attending their celebration this coming week. Zachary plans a gathering in her honor. I think it’s ludicrous to have such an affair for a mere servant girl, but Frederickson insists on it.” Anvil shrugged his shoulders. “But, this gives you an opportunity, Seth. I’m sure Cassandra hasn’t heard of your tomfoolery with this indenture and she should be honored to accompany you there. Mayhap you could even find it within you to ask her father for her hand. What better way to get over this folly?”

  “Aye, I think you’re right, father,” Seth nodded his agreement, but he hid his pain when he offered his father a broad smile. “I shall attend this event and offer my best to the new bridegroom and his wife. Perhaps I shall also take your advice and speak to Cassandra’s father about a betrothal.” Cassandra would make a good wife, he convinced himself. It’d also afford him a chance to convince Myra that he didn’t ever care about her.