12
They pulled up to the inn later in the evening.
Jared assisted the ladies as they exited the carriage. He went in with Lucy on his arm and Agnes following. “A room for my wife and I, and another for her abigail, please.” Jared slid a coin across the counter.
The stout innkeeper slid it in his pocket while having Jared sign the register.
The keys were given, a bath ordered, as well as a hot meal, and they left to go to the room.
Jared departed while Lucy bathed and returned later to use the last of the water. It was a relief to get the dirt from the road off his body.
They settled down as they usually did, Lucy in the bed and him on the floor across the room. “G’night, my pixie bride.”
“Good night, my handsome husband.”
~*~
Jared heard the heavy breathing before he saw the enemy but it was too late to escape their clutches. Pain radiated through his skull as he was struck. He dropped like a rock. He struggled to maintain consciousness so he could hear what they said as they trussed him up like a Christmas goose.
“Pat him down for identification.”
Jared groaned at the indecent search. The sound earned him a kick to his groin. Tears escaped as he gritted his teeth to endure the onslaught. He was hauled to his feet but couldn’t stand and could hardly see out of one eye. The foul-smelling animal in front of him growled and spoke to him in rapid gutter French that was too fast for him to understand.
“Je n’ai pas ce que vous voulez,” Jared gasped. “I do not have what you want.”
A sweet humming penetrated the dark and pain. His attackers disappeared, and a welcoming darkness wrapped around him.
~*~
Jared awoke the next morning, tangled in his blankets. He sat up.
Lucy stretched as she awoke, much like a cat would. She looked across the room and gave him a sweet smile.
“Did you sleep weel then, Jared?”
He frowned. He was as exhausted as a hangover, or the feeling he often had after a night terror. He shook his head. “I think not. Did I awaken you?”
Lucy was out of the bed and dainty feet peeked out from under her nightrail. She threw a robe on and came to kneel beside him. Her eyes were a cloudy blue. “I didn’t know what to do. Someday, will you tell me all that happened to you? The way you reacted to what was happening physically almost made me wonder if demons were here to beat you up. I stayed away as you instructed. I prayed and hummed a song we used to sing at church. It worked. You relaxed and soon you were snoring again.”
“I will have you know that Captains do not snore.”
Lucy smiled. “Mine does, and it bothers me not a whit, mah loue.” She kissed his lips and he growled as he returned it. She pulled away and danced across the room.
Jared’s heart beat faster and every muscle poised to give chase and claim another kiss, or more. She slipped behind the screen to change and Jared fell back to the floor with his arm thrown over his eyes. He tried to concentrate on anything but the woman on the other end of the room.
She’d mentioned that she hummed a tune during his night terror and that doing so eased his fear and brought him out of the agony. Was that all he needed? Someone who could talk, sing, or hum him back from the edge? She once again lovingly gave of herself for him. He was grateful she had not tried to physically touch him, although given the nature of his dream, he doubted he would have been able to harm her, but he could never predict when they would come or what form they would take.
Lucy packed up her belongings.
He rose to finish his ablutions and to pack as well.
After a hasty breakfast, Jared loaded up the coach along with the lamb and two women. Rogue and Fiona were again tethered behind.
Jared took the bench seat and with a mild-mannered click of his tongue the two horses pulling the carriage lunged forward to cover the miles. It was with one saddlebag and a horse that he’d traveled north. He’d certainly acquired far more than that for the trip south. He was surprised by the smile that he couldn’t shake.
His pixie bride was slowly being transformed on this journey from a backwoods Scottish peasant girl to the lady she was by birth. As good as that was for her, it would show her even more the disparity in their stations by the time they reached London. When they crossed the border, she would need to adopt her own real identity. And that would mean separate rooms and no acknowledgement of her as his wife.
The very thought depressed him. The one woman in all the world he could image sharing his life with was his for the taking. Now. But in a few weeks, she would be beyond his grasp. She would have given herself to him gladly and made the marriage real, but no, Jared had to be a gentleman. The old Captain Allendale would have taken everything she offered and more.
God, You promise to work all things together for good and I’ve made a mess of all this with my best intentions. Give me peace and wisdom as we head to London. Let me protect Lucy, even if it means from myself.
~*~
Lucy found the carriage to be stifling with the summer heat. If they opened the window they had dust blowing in. Scallywag slept at their feet and Agnes kept busy altering a dress for Lucy.
Jared was on the bench driving the horses. She missed riding with him even when they didn’t talk. Now wood separated them, and she was afraid far more would get in the way of their marriage. She couldn’t believe that, accidental though it was, it was not a mistake. She was content to wait it out, until Jared would finally acknowledge that God had brought them together.
He struggled with God’s grace and mercy. She was amazed last night that humming Amazing Grace could banish his demons. Could Jared really be under spiritual attack? Hearing the stories her mother told about her father’s satanic activities, there was much The Black Diamond was capable of. As well as his cohorts, and Satan himself. Was her very existence that important to the balance of powers in the war between France and England? She had a lot to pray about, including whether God would allow her to keep Jared forever.
~*~
They pulled into Dunfermline and got their rooms for the night.
Lucy couldn’t help but tease Jared with unexpected kisses. He looked so befuddled that it made her giggle. He had seen the world and been to war and yet there was such a purity to him in some ways that surprised her. She knew he had experienced horrors. Maybe someday he would share the horrific deeds with her and they could lose their hold on him.
The next day a few hours into their journey south, one of the horses dropped a shoe. Jared pulled the carriage over into a side road.
Lucy wasn’t happy that he would ride Rogue ahead to Rosyth to get another carriage and someone to take care of the horse.
“You have the gun. Stay in the carriage and please, please be careful.” Jared rode Rogue down the road.
The heat was even more unbearable in the carriage now that it wasn’t moving. They had taken to traveling with the windows open in spite of the dust.
Lucy was certain that anyone who tried to accost them would be immediately vanquished by her nasty odor. She could barely stand herself. She acknowledged, however, that Agnes smelled even worse. Their water supply was sufficient, but they rationed it as the day went on.
Scallywag begged to be let out, so the ladies left the carriage to stretch out and let the lamb graze. Both Lucy and her abigail removed their bonnets in a futile effort to cool off. Lucy stared up and down the road wondering at how little traveled it was. Was anyone near here? While she had become accustomed to sleeping outside, she doubted Agnes would be equally amenable to such a proposal. Her maid would certainly think it not worthy of a lady of her station.
Humph. Station? She hated the way her position already alienated Jared. She preferred their days on horseback, the snuggling in the cave, and the soft talks around the campfires at night.
Now Jared was distant and showed her the deference she was due. In the wilderness they’d been equals. He didn’t treat her
as dainty and incapable. Now, she couldn’t open the carriage door or step outside of it without his hand there, in a glove no less, to assist her descent.
She missed the twinkle in his eyes and the smile of satisfaction after catching their dinner. Or the way dusk softened everything including the scars he bore on his neck and arms when he was free enough to roll up his sleeves.
Lucy was impatient for Jared to return. She knew naught how to continue this journey. She possessed little money of her own. Jared took care of everything and she would be vulnerable without him there.
Agnes sat under the shade of a tree to work on her stitches.
Lucy was grateful for the older Scotswoman. It would be nice once they were in London, to have someone she could talk to in a language she was most comfortable with.
How much further would she be forced to change? She was determined that Captain Allendale would not get that annulment. She would not cooperate. She loved him too much to let him go. She wanted no other. She was so caught up in her musings that she failed to notice the dust stirring down the road or the sound of horses’ hooves as they hit the dirt.
Soon three men drew up abreast the carriage and the central one dismounted.
He had reddish hair, the color of a fiery sunset. His beard was neatly trimmed, and he was dressed in a style that bespoke wealth. “M’lady, you seem to have fallen into difficulty. My friends and I would grant you assistance if you would allow.”
The hairs on the back of her neck tickled and goose pimples appeared on her arms in spite of the heat of the day. “Sir, your kindness does you credit, but I fear we have not been introduced.”
“Sir Langley. The man to my left is Mr. Cranston and to my right is Mr. Hennipen.”
“My pleasure. I am Lady Allendale, and this is my maid. Our horse threw a shoe and my husband has ridden to town to get a blacksmith to help us.”
“And he abandoned you here on the side of the road without protection?” Mr. Cranston frowned and one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t say that. I appreciate your offer of assistance, but we will be fine. You may continue your journey.”
Sir Langley advanced on her.
Lucy held her ground but put her hand in her pocket to grasp the gun should she need it. The man stood before her all masculine strength and a cocky arrogance that immediately put her on her guard.
He lifted his left hand to touch her cheek. “I would be happy to engage in a little diversion before continuing my journey. He bent his head.
Lucy raised her knee to meet soft and tender flesh.
The man yelped, his face reddened to a darker shade than his hair, and he bent over swearing profusely.
The other two men dismounted quickly and advanced.
“I suggest you leave now, good sir,” Lucy said through clenched teeth.
A blur of fuzzy cream and black threw himself in the same spot she had kicked, knocking Sir Langley onto his back. The lamb returned to Lucy’s side and she could have sworn the animal sneered at the men before her.
The two who were still standing backed up.
“Get her! That lamb can’t hurt you,” Langley shouted as he tried to rise.
The other two men took a step forward.
Lucy pulled out her gun. “If you refuse to heed my requests, perhaps you will listen to this. I’ve trained hard to become a crack shot.”
A bullet scattered dust at Langley’s feet.
Lucy smiled at his startled expression.
Agnes stepped forward with the rifle, aiming it at his heart. “I’m a crack shot too.”
The men hastily got on their horses and Langley shook his finger at her. “You will regret this. If you dare show your face in London, your reputation will be torn to shreds.”
Lucy raised her gun, cocked the hammer back, and shot through his top hat.
Langley laughed. “Ha! You missed.”
Lucy cocked the hammer back again.
Mr. Cranston had gone pale. “Langley, she didn’t miss.”
Langley took the hat off and stared at the neat hole right above the brim. A smidge lower and she could have scalped him.
“I suggest you leave us now, I promise not to shoot you in the back.”
The men took off. Another bullet whizzed past Langley’s horse’s ear sending the horse into a panic and bolting down the road.
Lucy looked at Agnes and grinned. “You couldn’t resist the temptation to put him in his place.”
Agnes shrugged as she brought the barrel of the gun to point at the ground. “I doubt they’ll forget you any time soon. Blonde or brunette, they will remember.”
“I’m afraid you are correct, Agnes.” Lucy grinned. “Ah, but what a memory I will have.”
“’Twern’t ye scared, m’lady?”
“My heart beat fast, but I was grateful for the diversion from our dreary day.”
Agnes nodded and went to sit down.
Scallywag came to rest in the grass.
Lucy watched them both, put her gun away, and resumed her pacing. After feeling the heat on her face she put her bonnet back on. No use encouraging freckles or a tan. Lucy was almost ready to mount Fiona to travel to town when she spied a carriage coming from the south.
Jared was riding ahead on Rogue. Lines of fatigue were on his forehead and ruddy cheeks. He dismounted, gave her a kiss on the cheek, wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
Lucy wilted against his strength and soaked up the affection. When he set her from him and looked her over she felt warmer than ever. “Luce, are you well?”
She smiled and nodded. “I am, and you? Are you weel then?”
He nodded. “I brought a blacksmith.” The man exited the carriage, tipped his hat to her, and went to work on the horse.
“I heard an amazing tale when I got to town. A man swore a witch put a hole in his hat. I thought for sure it was a bullet. Do you know anything about this?”
Lucy raised her chin. “What makes you think I had anything to do with that?”
“Mayhap because he also limped quite noticeably, and he attributed it to a large ram that protected the witch.”
“Let’s just say, I think he’ll be giving me wide berth should we meet in London.”
Jared grinned.
The blacksmith interrupted them to declare the horse fit for travel and departed with his fee.
Jared assisted the ladies back in the carriage, doffed his hat, and climbed on the perch to start them off again.
What other adventures might they yet have before London?
13
Jared grinned as he started south, retracing the path he’d already taken once. Lucy had routed a bounder and all his anxiety as he traveled, worried about how long he was gone, and what dangers might have befallen her, was for naught.
He was surprised at the overflow of emotion when he saw her standing there awaiting them. Her smile. He’d impulsively hugged her. A behavior that was beyond the pale in London. The thought depressed him. If she were his wife in reality he could skip London and go to his estate and make a nice life there for the two of them. He imagined the two of them teaching their kids how to fish and cook. He imagined that deciding to spend a night in the woods would not scandalize her.
Dreams. Nothing but foolish dreams. Since when did he become a lovesick schoolboy? Calf love? It had to be since she was too far above his touch even if she didn’t believe it. But what did dreams hurt anyway?
Reality slapped him hard in the face. He understood the torture of dreams. He really couldn’t add more to all that burdened him. Lucy was a job. Nothing more, and nothing less. She was a duty to be fulfilled and as with every other mission, he would walk away. This time for good. His only mission would be to set up a new life for himself. He already recognized that a wife would never fit into that equation. He’d be a doting uncle to Marcus’s and Josie’s children and those of Phillip, Michael, and Theodore.
These thoughts depressed him, and his smile was as long gone as
the sun when they finally pulled into the village of Rosyth and claimed their beds, his once again on the floor of his pseudo-wife’s room.
~*~
He was alone in the dark and the stone floor was sticky with his own sweat. He had no strength to rise to the corner to relieve himself. He despised himself for doing it there. Dignity had long gone and only honor remained, but it was a poor companion on the cold painful nights waiting for his French demons to return. Vermin crawled on his skin and he had no strength to fight them off.
God, where are You? Will You abandon me here or are You, as You say in Your holy Word, with me even in the depths of the sea? Does that apply to this dank dungeon where I’m likely to die? I love You. You are my King and I want to die in a way that would honor You, God, my Father and Jesus, my Savior. Send me Your Holy Spirit to comfort me as You promised.
The cell door creaked and rattled, and the flickering light of a torch cast eerie shadows on the wall.
“English scum, are you ready to talk now?”
Jared remained still. They may have stripped him of his strength, his health, and even his dignity, but they would never strip him of his honor and faith. He was violated in the most heinous and shameful way possible and left trembling and bleeding, naked on the floor.
The cell door slammed shut and another piece of himself had been slain at the altar of the King of England. Now he understood, first hand, how a raped woman felt.
He wept. Deep sobs wracked his emaciated frame and every tear drained one more shred of hope he had of ever making it out of here alive.
Humming. He heard humming. He thought he was alone in the dark but there was a sweet woman’s hum. It wrapped around him in the darkness of his pain and allowed him to rest.
~*~
Jared awoke and found his depression lifted. He smiled as he got the carriage ready and loaded the trunks with the help of a stable hand. He gave Agnes a lift into the carriage and turned to help Lucy.
Lucy tipped her perfectly coiffed head at him. She looked entirely like the lady she was. Her lips curled in a smile and there was a twinkle in her sapphire eyes. “How are you, Jared?”
The Captain's Conquest Page 9