The Captain's Conquest

by Baganz, Susan M. ;

  Soft, sweet melody hummed and was soon joined in by a male voice. Familiar? Friend or foe? The tension eased from his body and he let himself relax into the welcoming hum as it lured him home. Heaven was coming soon, wasn’t it? He couldn’t endure much longer. He hoped...

  Steps were heard in the distance. Jared startled awake at the noise and it took a moment to remember where he was, in England, held captive with his wife and friend. Adrenaline started to flood his body. He jumped to his feet. “Michael? Luce?”

  “Here,” they both answered at once.

  “Act passive so we can catch them off guard,” Michael suggested in a whisper.

  “Agreed,” Lucy answered.

  “Fine.” Jared braced against the wall.

  The torch flared and his head pounded. He shook it to clear his thinking. He closed his eyes against the brightness.

  “Come along with ye. The master ’as requested an audience wit ye.”

  Instead of seeing a big British oaf, Jared saw a French captor. Something inside him snapped. He was tired of being a victim of their torture. He was not going down without a fight. Head down, Jared lunged forward and rammed into the giant, toppling him and the men behind him.

  ~*~

  Michael grabbed for the torch and Lucy’s hand. He pulled her out, and shoved the still stumbling men into the cell. It only took seconds to close and lock the door. They bolted after Jared as he ran with another torch down the tunnel they had originally come from.

  They ran for some time.

  Stitches in Lucy’s side ached.

  Michael slowed. “Are you ill?”

  “I just need to catch my breath.”

  “Well, Jared is far ahead of us. It’s as if the hounds of Hades were on his tail. We need to try to keep up if possible. He’s not—”

  “—himself. Yes, I know,” she gasped for air, “but in this case, it…may have worked…in our…favor.” Her breathing slowed and she stood up. “Let’s go, but at a more moderate pace, these boots were not made for running, and are not precisely my size. I’ve got a lovely blister forming.”

  “Let us be off.” Michael held her hand.

  They took off at a slower pace.

  While every step was painful, at least she could breathe.

  They came to the end of the tunnel and climbed the stairs. Michael slowly opened the door to the cottage and entered. Once Lucy was inside they searched. No Jared. Michael had a grim set to his face. “Got that knife handy?”

  Lucy leant over to pull it out. She handed it to her brother.

  At the rear of the cottage Michael peeked outside and opened the door, with the knife held low. They stepped out and stood in the moonlight.

  Their horses were there, but Jared’s was gone. Michael picked up his gun and checked it. Still loaded. “Bumbling oafs,” he muttered.

  He handed her knife back.

  Baaaa. Baaaa. A furry lamb emerged from the woods and ran to her. His black nose had blood on it.

  “Did they hurt you, Scallywag? You poor thing.”

  Michael checked the horses. The saddles and bags looked untouched. He glanced at Lucy. “I think you need to put a dress on and look different as we head off.”

  “Why?”

  “Because these idiots don’t really know what you look like, and Jared isn’t himself. He won’t hurt a woman.”

  “Not true, Michael. He has hurt me before when he’s been in this kind of state.”

  “Yet you married him?”

  “That was quite by accident.”

  “You chose to stay married.” He handed her a saddlebag.

  “Yes, I did, Michael. Because I love him and he needs me.”

  “Being needed is a powerful thing, but it can also wear on you if it’s not appreciated or reciprocated.”

  “I need him too. More than you know.” Lucy stepped behind some bushes, unbound herself and threw on the dress. She pulled out a cape as the temperature had turned chilly. The rest she packed away in case it was needed again. She secured her bag and mounted, still wearing trousers under her dress for modesty and comfort since she rode astride.

  Michael lifted the lamb to her and was quickly in his own saddle. “Well, shall we try to discover where your husband has disappeared to? Any clues?”

  Lucy shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “The mission is to get you to Whitehall. We’ll head south and hope to meet up with him.”

  “We’re leaving him behind?”

  “You are in too much danger out here, Luce. We need to get you to safety as quickly as possible. Don’t worry, if I had been separated from you two, Jared would have done the same thing. Duty and completing his mission are paramount. Do you have your gun hidden?”

  Lucy patted the weapon, now in her skirt pocket.

  They took off through the woods.

  Grateful for the moonlight, Lucy prayed that Jared would come to his senses soon and meet up with them.

  20

  Jared raced through the night until Rogue was lathered. He finally found a deep, wooded area to stop. He used grass and leaves to brush down his horse, even removing the saddle so the animal could rest and refresh.

  Jared took a drink from his water skin and found some food in the saddlebag. He sat down at the base of a large oak tree and leaned against the rough bark. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

  He had escaped.

  He had escaped.

  He had escaped—alive!

  His head pounded as if someone was knocking on a door trying to get his attention. Mentally he opened it and was shocked to remember that he had not been alone in the darkness of that prison cell. His wife and a friend had been there as well. In his madness, he had abandoned them to whatever fate was coming. He groaned as shame washed over him. Tears streamed down his face at his failure to be the husband and hero he wanted to be. He had no place serving his country. He belonged in Bedlam. Somewhere away from harming anyone else.

  He tried to think about what might have happened after he tore out of there like the devil was on his heels.

  Michael would look after Lucy and she was not incapable of defending herself.

  The question was, had he given them enough opportunity to break free? Were they there or on their way to London? Michael would never chase after him but would seek to complete the mission.

  He had only one choice. To return to figure out what had occurred. He rested for a few hours. Upon awakening, he saddled Rogue and headed back to the cottage, hoping he could remember the way he’d come.

  Several hours later as the sun was midway in the morning sky, he found what he thought was the place. The trampling of horses’ hooves was evident as well as their relieving of themselves. Had the captors removed the animals or had Michael and Lucy taken them? He checked the interior of the cottage and found the door to the tunnel left ajar, a torch on the floor. That could have been his and he could have left the door that way.

  He lit the torch and descended the tunnel with all stealth. Not that the light would betray his presence. He stopped to listen. Men were cursing. He put the torch behind him and crept forward to make out their words.

  “You idiot! How could you let them catch you off guard like that?”

  “When the Black Diamond hears of this we’re toast.”

  “Better to die here than face what he would do to us.”

  “Well, Lord Winter will not be pleased either.”

  “Will any of them even come to look for us? We’ve been gone longer than we should be.”

  “Don’t know. Maybe. But if they do and find our prisoners gone, there will be hell to pay.”

  Jared grinned. They had escaped and imprisoned their captors. He went back in the tunnel and up the stairs to the cottage. He extinguished the torch and left it. Once outside he mounted Rogue but decided to see exactly where they had been hidden from the outside. He tied his horse out of sight, and then sneaked through the woods in the direction of the
tunnel until he spied a manor house. One of Lord Winter’s estates, if he was correct.

  He back-tracked, mounted Rogue and headed for London. He had little hope he would catch up to Lucy and Michael, but at least he wouldn’t be far behind. He only hoped that they would forgive him for his lapse of sanity.

  Sure, it brought them freedom, but if Michael had not been there, he would have left his wife to the mercy of those brutes. There was no way she would have defeated them on her own. He shivered at the thought of what they would have done to her. Lord, keep them safe.

  ~*~

  “What do you mean, they escaped?”

  Four large men cowed before his greatness. He debated on their discipline. Did he let them get their revenge and try to recapture the redoubtable Captain Allendale, the lovely Lucy, and the enigmatic Sir Michael Tidley? Having all three in his possession would sweeten his future. He licked his teeth and smiled. He motioned to the man standing next to him.

  “Thirty lashes each while I decide whether these men can be useful to me or not.”

  The men paraded out of the room, heads down. He grinned when he saw one with a tear tracing a line down his filthy cheek. Maybe he would watch the torture. It always made his day brighter when he did that. It would be even sweeter when he could have the escaped men watch him personally torture the delectable Lucy. She was his. Without her the promise of future status, wealth, and power would be denied.

  He was not used to being denied and wasn’t about to start now. He rose from his chair and followed the men down to the torture chamber. He might even wield the whip himself. It was satisfying work, why should his staff get all the fun?

  ~*~

  Exhaustion flowed through Lucy. “Michael, I can’t go on. We need to stop for a while or I will be falling off Fiona.”

  Michael frowned. “We can’t have that happen.” He led them deeper in to the woods to a shady glen by a creek bed. They dismounted and allowed the horses to drink.

  Scallywag scampered about.

  Lucy wrapped her cloak around her and dropped to the ground to sleep.

  ~*~

  She awoke as the sun began to set. Her lamb was snuggled up next to her and the horses were sleeping on their feet nearby where Michael had tied them off.

  Michael was resting but he was poised to act if the need arose, as evidenced when he opened his eyes and raised the pistol, before lowering it when he saw her. He closed his eyes and relaxed on the ground once more.

  Lucy stretched, took care of her needs, and knelt by the creek to splash water in her face. She tried to fix her hair which was growing out and fell in her eyes. She wished for her cap she wore as a boy, since she could push the wild curls up and out of the way. Her bonnet had been crushed and had a distorted shape. It didn’t hold the curls nearly as well.

  The yawn Michael made startled her. Her brother struggled to rise out of his hard bed of dirt and leaves. One leaf stuck to his hair at an odd angle and she bit back a grin. “Morning, brother.”

  Michael blinked several times and then looked at her with a frown. “We slept the day away.”

  “True, but traveling at night has its advantages, doesn’t it?”

  “And its dangers.” He brushed off his clothes.

  Lucy reached up to pull the leaf out of his hair.

  He stopped his movements. “Thank you.”

  They ate some bread and cheese and were soon on their way again with Scallywag on Michael’s horse.

  “Do you think Jared’s all right?”

  “I suspect so. What does your heart tell you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Jared said you are fey, that you know things a normal person wouldn’t, that God reveals it to you. What does God tell you about Jared?”

  “Sometimes I don’t always know how much is wishful thinking and what is God’s revelation to me. Drawings are unusual and not planned, those often are revelations unless I think they are just my imagination.” She glanced at her brother, who raised an eyebrow.

  “So, answer your own question, Lucy. You are husband and wife. Two become one. Is it possible that if something happened to the one the other would feel it?”

  Lucy took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting Fiona plod on without her direction. Lord, is my husband weel, then? She waited and peace wrapped around her, much like her mother’s arms would after a nightmare. Lucy smiled. “I believe he is well.”

  “Good, then let us leave him in the good Lord’s hands and get to London. We may reach it by mid-afternoon if we press on.”

  “And go straight to Whitehall like this?”

  “Do you have a clean gown to dress in? A maid to put up your hair? I can arrange for a room and a bath, but beyond tha…wait. Katrina might have gowns that would fit you. I could put you up a hotel, go fetch some of her stuff, and bring it to you if you insist.”

  Michael was anxious to get her safe. “Michael, we’ll go straight to Whitehall, as is. But what then? Who will keep me safe? Do you really think they will be fobbed off because the British Government is protecting me? I doubt even the Prince Regent and all his men could keep me from my father and Lord Winter if they wanted to get at me. How valuable am I in this war and why? I don’t understand why I’m so important. I’m just a young woman from the Highlands of Scotland.”

  Michael smiled. “I adore your accent, by the way. Your mother did a wonderful job preparing you for this.”

  “You think she knew this day would come?”

  “You’ll see soon enough. While I believe some of your questions will be answered, I cannot figure out how you would be safe either unless we do away with your father—permanently.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond to this. She didn’t remember her father. She hadn’t really had much interaction with him when she was a child and too much time had passed. Did she want him…dead? Wasn’t murder wrong? But they had already killed, hadn’t they? When their lives were threatened? Would her father really wish her harm if he came face to face with her? Could a man hate his offspring so much?

  “Lucy?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Our father ignored me until recently. He tried to kill me. He tortured me and Katrina and he almost—” Michael gulped and paled, “—raped her.”

  “Can anyone be that evil?”

  “When they choose to follow Satan wholeheartedly, yes. He has chosen his god and his dabbling in the demonic has imbued him with supernatural powers. Don’t think our God isn’t greater. I believe that God has preserved us this far, but that doesn’t mean God wouldn’t allow painful circumstances to be used for His glory. Trust me when I say that until your father is well and truly dead, you, me, Jared, and this country are in mortal danger.”

  Dread filled her heart and her fingers trembled around the reins.

  “The sooner we get this done and over, the sooner we can retire to boring, bucolic lives?”

  Michael nodded. “Yes, although I doubt marriage will ever bore me—or you.” He winked at her. “Let’s pick up the pace.”

  Lucy nodded, and they rode in silence through the night, with the exception of occasional snores from the lamb.

  ~*~

  It was mid-afternoon as Michael led Lucy through the streets of London. She yawned. Fatigue was besting her again, but they needed to finish Jared’s mission. The town was noisy. She wondered if she would go deaf from the cacophony. And the stench! Rotten fish, smoke, and refuse combined to choke her.

  The disparity between the wealthy and the poor was disturbing as well. Michael purposefully kept them away from the parts of town where they might encounter the upper ten-thousand, to protect her reputation. She didn’t care much for that as she had no desire or intention of engaging with any who would raise their noses at the poverty around them and do nothing. She complained to Michael about it.

  “Luce, there are men who are trying their best to rectify this, but it is not a problem one can throw money at. Many of those wealthy employ the poor and prov
ide them with good wages, fair treatment, and a safe place to live. Not all are like that, though. Some, like Jared’s brother, Viscount Remington, are working hard to change laws to benefit the poor. Don’t be so harsh on your class. There are some wonderful people to be found in the midst of the thoughtless vain ones.”

  Lucy nodded and bowed her head, subdued and humbled. She judged far too quickly without knowing the facts. The truth of the matter was she knew little about the world outside her little cottage and the Loch Ness.

  She gasped. The monster. She saw the monster and that would mean that someone—family—would die. She now had family. Husband. Father. Brother. Sister-in-law. Nephew and heir apparent. She put a hand over her mouth.

  “What? What is wrong, Lucy?” Michael slowed down.

  “We saw the Loch Ness Monster before we took off for London.”

  Michael smiled. “That sounds interesting. Why does that dismay you?”

  “Rumor has it that when the Loch Ness Monster is seen, that someone from the Clan Cameron will die.”

  “You are a Diamonte so you are safe. Why would this superstition upset you so?”

  “Because I have gone by the name Cameron. It could be me or anyone related to me. Even Jared.”

  “Humbug. Gaelic superstition. You can’t believe a monster knows when death is coming to a person. Only God knows the future.”

  “That’s what Jared said.”

  “Then listen to your husband. He’s a man worthy of respect.”

  She nodded. On that, they agreed.

  It was close to four of the clock when they arrived at the War Office at Whitehall.

  Michael helped her down and left the lamb and horses in the care of a guard. They entered the arch and Michael led her around inside until they got to the office of Lord Hughes. Michael knocked on the heavy oak door. Lucy never heard the answer, but Michael peeked his head in, dragged her in, and shut the door.

  “Lord Hughes, may I have the honor of presenting to you my sister, Lady Penelope Diamonte who now goes by the name Lucy Cameron.”

  Lucy gave a low curtsy, suddenly feeling embarrassed at her wild hair, filthy dress, and the fact that she wore breeches and boots underneath. She looked as far from a lady as anyone could. Unless one counted a lady of the night.