Suddenly she realized that he was laughing at her, and he asked suggestively, "Do you like what you see?
Darcy took a sip of rum and shifted in her chair. She looked up at him, and she saw he was smirking. She tried to hide a smile. Darcy admitted that she was attracted to this man, but she was not about to be lured into a tawdry liaison.
There was a crack of thunder, and the rain began to hammer the roof of the cabin. Jean Michel leaned forward and with a look of distaste asked, "Why did you allow yourself to be bought by Lawrence?"
Darcy sighed and sat up straight. "I had no choice. I did not choose to be his indentured servant or anyone's slave. I am a convict.”
"You go to him unwillingly?" he asked with surprise.
"I told you I am a convict serving my sentence, not an Irish whore."
Jean Michel recalled his words from the morning. “It seems I spoke out of turn earlier today, my apologies.”
Darcy shrugged and continued, "For the most part, Nathan has been fair with me, and I am better off than my comrades who were hanged for the same crime.
"Which was?"
"Trading with the French during the war. We weren't getting rich, just trying to feed ourselves and our families. They punished us most severely."
"Did your husband hang too?"
"No, I have no husband. I will never marry."
"Why in heaven's name would you never marry?" he asked with astonishment.
"Because men don't love women; they only need them. They need them to take care of the home and children and to satisfy their pleasures."
Seeing his frown, she added, "Nathan didn't like my point of view either."
"It’s very cynical," he answered.
"It is how I see it. Where is your wife?" she asked in return.
"My wife is dead. She died in childbirth over thirteen years ago."
"Did you love her?" Darcy asked bluntly.
Jean Michel‘s jaw tightened. He swallowed hard and said, "I am afraid I did not."
"You see! You are a perfect example of what I was talking about," she gloated.
"In this case, I suppose you are right," he agreed.
Jean Michel's eyes dropped to the floor for a moment then he continued, "We met when I was studying to be a surveyor at the College of William and Mary in Virginia. She was very pretty, yet she was very fragile. I suppose as a young man I was attracted to that. I thought I could take care of her. I killed her when I brought her to the frontier. She was meant for drawing rooms, not the one room cabins in the wilderness. When she was with child, that first winter, she grew very thin and pale. I tried to keep her healthy and her spirits up, but after five months she died giving birth to a still-born."
Darcy was horrified. How could I have gloated over this man's misfortunes? She rubbed her forehead then said, "Now it’s my turn to apologize."
He chuckled. "Now why did I tell you that story?"
He stood up suddenly and announced, “We have been here long enough. I think it’s safe to go.”
As he stepped out into the pouring rain, Jean Michel had to regain his composure. He was not sure he liked the feelings that were churning inside him. This McBride woman had the ability to reach into his soul and open doors he thought were closed forever. She ignited a desire in him that was beyond anything he had ever imagined.
Confused and overwhelmed, he blamed it on long months without carnal pleasures, and pushing it from his mind; he started down the path for the McDermott homestead.
Chapter 21
The wind tossed the trees wildly, and the cracking of the thunder reminded Darcy of cannon fire. Her skirts were heavy with mud, and her soaked hair clung to her face and shoulders. She stumbled clumsily down the path, unable to see the roots and rocks in the darkness of the forest. Jean Michel walked behind her, trying to quell his fears about the effectiveness of gunpowder in the rain.
A yellow light flickered through the trees as they approached the McDermott homestead. Darcy thought it was a campfire, and then suddenly she realized the cabin was in flames.
“Oh, Good Lord!” she cried. She bolted down the path with only one thought--to save the family burning in the cabin. Blindly she dashed, jumping over rocks and pushing branches aside when suddenly a root caught her foot, and she tumbled to the ground. Fast as lightning she jumped to her feet running directly into the clearing. In an instant, Jean Michel was upon her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back swinging her around to his chest and clapped his hand over her mouth. Darcy struggled to break free, but his arm around her waist felt like steel. She kicked and squirmed, but he tightened his grip.
He dragged her back into the cover of the trees, as she watched the cabin engulfed in flames. The blaze shot high into the night sky, illuminating everything in the clearing, and Darcy closed her eyes. Jean Michel felt her body relax, and he loosened his grip. He scanned the clearing for danger, all was quiet.
Jean Michel could feel Darcy’s heart pounding and her soft breasts against his chest. He dropped his arms, and she stepped away still watching the blaze. He whispered, "I believe the danger is past, but we must approach with caution.”
Holding their muskets in front of them, they walked down the hill to look for survivors. The heat from the fire was intense, and it shed enough light for them to see that there were no dead bodies in the clearing. The family had either been taken prisoner or burned in the fire.
Darcy stepped over debris and scanned the woods. The fire threw long shadows across everything, and more than once Darcy mistook them for assailants.
She saw Jean Michel straining to listen, and when Darcy stood motionless she heard it too--a low, moaning sound coming from the direction of the well. Instantly, she recognized the wailing of Nan, and picked up some burning debris as a torch running to the well.
Holding the flame overhead, she looked down expecting to see only Nan, but instead she saw Adrianna and the children. Jean Michel ran over as well.
"Is this everyone?" he asked. When Darcy nodded, he stated, "Then we must get them into the woods quickly."
One by one he pulled Adrianna and the children from their hiding place. As fast as he could pull them out, Darcy would race them to the shelter of the trees. The older children tried to walk, but the water had numbed their legs, and it was difficult to stand. The last child to go into the woods was Nan, and when Jean Michel bent to pick her up, she let out a blood-curdling scream. He jumped back and looked at Adrianna with surprise. She picked up Nan and dashed for the woods with the child struggling and screaming in her arms.
"Is everyone here, Adrianna?" asked Darcy.
She nodded. "When we heard the cannon fire this morning, we knew what was happening and went directly to the well. When the French and Abenaki arrived, they assumed we had fled to the fort, so they did not search for us. They moved on to burning the house."
"Didn't a rider come by to warn you of the attack?" asked Darcy.
"We saw no one."
"I am not surprised.” said Darcy frowning. “Nathan would only alert the families of the militia. The rest could go to the devil for all he cared."
Jean Michel said, "There will be time to be angry later. We must all get to safety now. I don't know what to do about Nan. She will alert the entire forest the minute we touch her. If only we had your dog, Darcy. Stroking his fur was soothing to her."
Nan rocked back and forth on the ground, tapping her leg with a leaf. Jean Michel took a rabbit's foot on a rawhide string out of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Very gently he ran the charm up and down the girl's arm, and like magic she began to stroke the fur and make cooing sounds. He hung it down the back of his shirt, and when he turned around Nan climbed onto his back without a struggle to play with the rabbit’s foot.
The thunder continued to roll, and the wind picked up. It was difficult navigating in the mud with a toddler on her back and holding slippery little hands, but Darcy forged on. When they reached the clearing by the fort, they waited in the
brush for instructions from Jean Michel. He told them they must not all run to the gate at the same time. They would take turns, each adult escorting several children to the fort as discreetly as possible.
He turned to Darcy and said apologetically, "You will be the first to scale the hill. I'm sorry, but I must remain behind to protect the others."
"What's so terrible about going first?" she asked.
"You may draw friendly fire. Our soldiers will not recognize you in the dark, and they may believe that you are the enemy.
Darcy swallowed hard. It had never occurred to her that she may be killed by her own people.
Jean Michel continued, "Once you gain entrance to the fort, go to the battery and scan the clearing for danger. When it is safe for us to proceed wave a torch."
Darcy's heart was pounding furiously. She squatted down and looked at Adrianna's five year-old boy and asked, "Are you a strong little man?"
When he nodded, she said, "I want you to hang onto me with all your might as I run up that hill. Don't worry. Momma will be coming later. I promise to keep you safe."
His eyes reflected complete faith in her. She squeezed the chubby hand of the little girl on her back and looked at Jean Michel. He scanned the clearing and said, "Now!"
Darcy grabbed the boy to her breast and dashed into the clearing. It was extremely difficult to scale the hill carrying one child on her back and another in her arms, but she could not hesitate a moment.
Madly, she scrambled up the slippery grass, her lungs exploding, and her heart slamming against her chest. Suddenly, the toddler on her back fell to the ground with a cry. Before she could make another sound, Darcy had her tucked under her arm, and she began to run again. Breathless and terrified, she looked up at the sentries. No one had seen her in the darkness. She bolted toward the fort and arrived at the gate screaming, "It's Darcy McBride! Open the gate! I have children here!"
The surprised guard opened up, and after telling the soldiers to hold their fire, Darcy grabbed a torch, ran up to the south battery and leaned over the wall. She searched the clearing for danger and waved the torch from side to side.
Adrianna burst into the clearing, holding her infant, followed by two of the older children. They sprinted up the hill, across the clearing and into the fort completely undetected.
Darcy looked around once again for danger and waved her torch for Jean Michel to proceed. He bolted up the hill with Nan and two others. Suddenly, there was the report of a rifle, and she looked for Jean Michel in the darkness. She could hear him yelling to the other children to continue running to the fort, and finally she saw him pull himself to his feet, tucking Nan under one arm.
More shots rang out as he stumbled toward the gate. Darcy dashed down to help pull in the first two children. They were shaken but unharmed, and Jean Michel staggered in dropping Nan into Adrianna's arms. She was sobbing from fear and joy as she covered her children with kisses.
Too weak to stand any longer, Jean Michel dropped onto his hands and knees, and Darcy bent down holding his arm. His hair had come out of the leather thong and hung in loose strands around his face.
Bright, red blood was soaking through the shoulder of his shirt, and he mumbled, "I'm dizzy."
He was taken to the surgery where several women tried to stop the bleeding. Darcy stood by the bed, watching Jean Michel's expressionless face. He lay with his eyes closed and winced only once when they tried to find the bullet.
"It looks like it went in one side and out the other," said a plump, gray-haired woman with a kind face. “That's good. You'll heal quickly." She patted his hand and said, "I'll just finish with this bandage and let you rest."
When she was done, the nurse tidied up the area and moved on to another patient. Jean Michel lay on the bed, motionless and white. Satisfied that he was asleep, Darcy turned to leave the surgery. The minute she stepped away from the bed he whispered, "Where are you going?" and he opened his eyes. "You know that you are responsible for this, don't you? You and your foolish notions."
Darcy blanched. She knew that he was right. It was an utterly impetuous, foolhardy undertaking to move children under fire, and Jean Michel had paid the price. She hung her head.
"As punishment you must stay by my side," he murmured.
Darcy looked at him. "You don't hate me?"
"No, Miss McBride. Quite the contrary," and he closed his eyes.
Darcy stayed by his side well into the night. Jean Michel did not wake up once as she dozed in a chair beside him. Sometime in the middle of the night, a guard woke her and said that Colonel Lawrence would like to speak with her.
Darcy dreaded seeing Nathan. She knew what he would say, and her anxiety increased the closer she got to his office. The parade ground was filled with people sleeping on packs or curled up on the ground as she walked into Nathan's office.
The guard escorted her in and waited. Nathan did not look up right away, continuing to write. When looked up at last, his face hardened. He dismissed the guard and stood up.
Walking around his desk, he said, "Do you know what I do to subordinates when they act against my direct orders?"
Darcy said nothing, looking at the floor.
"I sentence them to hang. That's what I do. Now as I recall, you managed to avoid that sentence once already. You must lead a charmed life, because you will avoid hanging again," he said.
"But you will not avoid this," and with the back of his hand, he struck Darcy.
Lawrence's jeweled ring cut her lip, and she was knocked back several steps. She put her hand to her face but said nothing, only looked at the floor. She remembered the horrors of the beating from Liam too well, and she was not about to encourage Nathan.
"You'll have one more," and he slapped her across the other cheek. "That is for being impudent in my office yesterday."
He pulled down his jacket and straightened his cuffs, as blood trickled down Darcy's lip. "Now leave me."
Darcy staggered from his office, wondering how she ever could have cared for this hard ruthless man. The siege had brought out a savage side in him, which she had not previously encountered, and she would never trust him again.
She returned to the surgery and after cleaning her lip, sank back down into the chair by Jean Michel to fulfill his request that she stay by his side. In spite of all that had happened, Darcy was so exhausted that she fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.
The wound started giving Jean Michel pain and roused him. When he opened his eyes, Darcy was back, and he raised his head to look at her. The candlelight was dim in the surgery, but he could see that she had unpinned her hair, and her dark tresses tumbled down over her shoulders and breasts.
He felt as if he were a voyeur watching this beautiful woman while she slept, but he could not help drinking in every detail of her loveliness. She sighed and turned her head and Jean Michel's eyes narrowed. He saw the gash across her lip and knew immediately that she had been to see Lawrence.
His jaw tightened. He had never liked Nathan, and he detested him even more for adding to this woman’s misery. As his affection for Darcy grew, his hatred for Lawrence deepened. It was too painful for Jean Michel to watch Darcy anymore, and he turned his head to the other side of the bed to try to get some sleep.
When he awoke later that morning, a shy, young nurse with nervous hands was changing his blood-soaked bandage. Darcy sat on the corner of the bed and presented a bowl of broth to him.
"Now sit up. It's time you gain back your strength."
"I fear I cannot sit up," he teased.
"Don't push me." Darcy warned. "You are perfectly capable of sitting up."
"It's far too painful. You'll have to feed me."
She frowned. "You take advantage of me, Lupe'," and she put a spoonful of soup into his mouth. Suddenly there was the crack of gunfire and Darcy jumped, spilling broth all over him. Jean Michel winced.
Darcy dabbed his shirt with a towel apologizing profusely.
"No, I'm all right,
" he said chuckling.
There was cannon blast next, and it shook the room. Everyone anticipated new casualties. The surgery became a busy place once more.
Darcy helped Jean Michel into a clean shirt. As she straightened it around him, he reached up suddenly and stroked her injured lip. She turned away to hide the pain on her face. It had been years since anyone had shown her compassion, and it seemed to cut her like a knife.
She left the surgery after that, vowing to stay away from him. Why did he affect her this way? His very presence unnerved her. She must not allow him to get close to her. She had lost too much already; she was not about to lose her heart.
The day dragged on endlessly, and the surgery filled with injured soldiers. Darcy cleaned and dressed countless wounds, her apron spattered with blood and mucus as she moved from patient to patient.
Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry Page 19