Thursday's Child (Out of Time #5)

by Monique Martin

  Elizabeth spun around in the water. The sun blinded her and she shaded her eyes to see who it was. A man stepped forward.

  “Elijah! You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  He lifted the hem of one of her petticoats that she'd flung onto a nearby bush in her haste. “I could ask you the same question.”

  She frowned and he chuckled.

  “Aren't you supposed to be hunting?” Elizabeth said as she treaded water and tried to cover herself at the same time.

  “I am,” he said.

  Elizabeth had a sinking feeling. Was the entire hunt going to show up next?

  “I was bored and rode off,” he said, walking along the edge of the pond. “Then I saw what looked like a pair of ladies' undergarments hanging from a tree. What sort of man would I be if I didn't investigate?”

  He was enjoying this far too much. Not that she could really blame him. She was the one who'd gone skinny dipping in the middle of a fox hunt.

  He saw her nervous look and smiled. “Your secret will be safe with me, but…” He cocked his head to the side and listened. The unmistakable sound of hounds on the chase could be heard in the distance. “The others are not far and getting closer, I think. If you stay where you are…”

  She knew the end of the sentence and she couldn't let that happen. Elizabeth started to swim toward the shore, but stopped. “You need to…” She waved her hand to shoo him away.

  He smiled and nodded, but then a dark frown covered his face. “Come faster,” he said urgently as he strode to the edge of the pond.

  Elizabeth stopped swimming. “Not with you standing there.”

  He stepped into the water and reached out to her. “Swim!”

  He was staring at something behind her and Elizabeth swiveled to see what it was. About ten feet away, the smooth surface of the water rippled just slightly. She stared at it dumbly for a moment before it lifted its head out of the water.

  Elizabeth wasn't a screamer, but she let out a shriek to wake the dead. Snakes. Why did it have to be a snake?

  “Swim!” The panicked edge to his voice was all the prompting Elizabeth needed. She turned back and swam toward the shore as quickly as she could. She splashed and kicked and then dug her hands into the muddy bottom to try to stand.

  Eli had grabbed a long stick and held it in one hand, and extended the other out to her. He was knee-deep in the water, boots and all. “Hurry!”

  He took another step deeper into the water and grabbed onto her outstretched hand and yanked. Her feet were sunk down into the muddy bottom and didn't want to let go, but Eli pulled until they both tumbled back onto the shore. She fell on top of him and he rolled her over away from the water's edge. He scrambled to his feet and jabbed the surface of the water with the stick.

  Elizabeth climbed to her feet and could just see the brown and tan striped snake as it swam away to the far side of the pond where it had come from.

  “Cottonmouth,” Eli said, watching it and making sure it kept going.

  “Is it gone?” Elizabeth said not able to suppress a shudder.

  “I think so.” Eli turned back and then immediately turned his head, averting his eyes.

  In the excitement, she'd completely forgotten she was naked. She eeped and reflexively tried to cover herself.

  “And now we have another secret,” Eli said.

  ~~~

  Simon had had quite enough of the hunt and was happy to linger at the rear of the procession as it started off in yet another direction. He'd noticed Elijah veer off from the group a few minutes ago. Simon reined in his horse and broke off. He would learn nothing more following the pack and he'd put in more than enough time with James to ensure his interest in him as an investor. Not to mention that James Harper was a thudding bore. Not that he blamed the man for being obsessed about his business. It took that sort of drive to run a plantation the size of River Run, but none of that was getting Simon closer to understanding how Mary fit into all this. He'd paid his dues with James, now it was time to find out just what Eli was up to.

  Putting aside Eli's embarrassing misconception about his visit to the brothel and his annoyingly persistent flirtation with Elizabeth, Elijah Harper was a man with a secret. Simon had studied him all morning and of that he was sure.

  Simon urged his horse on and they broke into a canter to catch up to Eli. Although, he couldn't see him, he was sure he'd gone off in this direction.

  Simon emerged from a thicket of woods when he heard the scream. It went straight to his heart.

  “Elizabeth.”

  He dug his heels into the horse's flanks and raced toward the sound. What the hell was she doing out here? His heart beat faster than his horse's hooves and he tried to control the fear that gripped his heart. He saw Eli's horse grazing on a small patch of grass and guided his horse toward it.

  Simon dismounted his horse before it had even stopped. He heard a man's voice, Eli. “And now we have another secret.”

  Simon crashed through the thicket to see Eli turn in surprise. And Elizabeth. Naked and frightened.

  Instinct and anger propelled him forward. He closed the distance between himself and Eli in two quick strides. What the hell had he done to her? Simon grabbed Eli by the front of his shirt. His other hand coiled into a fist ready to strike when Elizabeth called for him to stop.

  Simon's fist hung in the air, arm cocked like a crossbow ready to fire. Blood rushed through his head, fury coloring everything red.

  Elizabeth grabbed one of her petticoats from a bush and wrapped it around her body as best she could. “He was helping me.”

  Simon had an idea just what he was helping himself to.

  Eli grasped Simon's wrist. “There was a snake.”

  Simon turned to Elizabeth for an explanation. She nodded and Simon eased his grip. Eli pulled Simon's hand away and looked at him with unbridled disgust.

  “I was swimming,” Elizabeth said, “and there was a cottonmouth.”

  Simon rushed to Elizabeth's side and shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around Elizabeth's shoulders. “Were you bitten?”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks to Eli.”

  Simon hated being beholden to anyone, much less a man like Eli Harper, but he truly was now. Elizabeth could have been killed. He turned to Elijah. “I am grateful for that. But I have to wonder why you were here at all.”

  Eli glared at him and then spoke to Elizabeth. “You don't have to stay with him, you know.”

  Simon stepped forward angrily. “And just what do you mean by that?”

  Eli stood his ground. “A man who raises his hand against a woman doesn't deserve her.”

  What the hell was he going on about?

  “I saw you arguing at the race,” Eli said. “I saw you grab her.” He nodded toward Elizabeth.

  “It isn't what you think,” Elizabeth said, but before she could protest further the sound of approaching riders came. She grabbed her clothing and scurried behind a large bush.

  Men's voices rose in the distance and the hounds bayed in a frenzy.

  “Elijah!” a man's voice said from behind the thicket.

  Eli glared at Simon and made sure Elizabeth was hidden, and then answered. “Here.”

  The man pressed his way through the undergrowth. He was in a state of near panic. “The hounds have found something. You have to come.”

  “You don't need me to bring him to ground.”

  “It's not the fox,” the man said, the color gone from his face. “It's a body.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Simon watched Eli and the other man ride off, torn by the desire to follow them, and needing to stay and apologize to Elizabeth and reassure himself that she was indeed all right.

  “Did he say a body?” Elizabeth said as she poked her head through the bushes.

  “Yes.”

  “You should go.”

  “I will, I just—”

  Elizabeth's head disappeared and sudd
enly his jacket flew over the bush. He barely caught it before it landed on his head.

  Elizabeth parted a few branches of the bush and her face appeared again. “Body. Evidence. You've got to go.”

  She was, of course, correct. Finding a body now, here, could hardly be a coincidence.

  “All right,” he said. “But for God's sake, be careful on your way home.”

  Once her promise was secured, Simon rode off after Eli. He found him and the other riders not far from where he'd left Elizabeth. The huntsmen struggled to control the dogs and pull them away, while most of the riders had dismounted and gathered near a young oak. Some covered their faces with handkerchiefs and as Simon neared them, he understood why. The acrid odor of decaying flesh couldn't be missed.

  Simon pushed through the crowd until he saw it. Instantly, he felt the urge to wretch. Only the head and a small part of the upper torso of the body were visible in the shallow grave. Last night's storm must have unearthed it and animals had done the rest. It was already in an advanced state of decomposition. The flesh slagged off the bones and the skull had only a bare resemblance to the human it had once been. Judging from the hair and clothing, what he could see of it, it was a woman. The sickening feeling in his gut grew stronger.

  James, his own face a ghostly pale, stared down at the body in shock and horror. Eli seemed one of the few to have his senses about him and had ordered a man to ride to town to get the constable.

  “Who is she?” one of the men asked.

  If anyone knew they weren't willing to answer.

  “All right,” Eli said. “I think everyone should go back to the house.”

  That seemed to rouse James from his stupor. “Yes, yes. I'll stay here with…” He glanced at the body again and then turned away. “With Wallace and Gaughran.”

  Wallace nodded, but turned and vomited.

  “I'll stay,” Simon offered.

  James seemed to be having trouble processing and stared blankly at him for a moment before nodding. “Gaughran and Cross. The rest go with Eli.”

  As the others rode off, James stared down at the body, transfixed in horror. It was, of course, a natural reaction to such a thing, but Simon couldn't help but wonder if there were more to it.

  “Do you have any idea who she is?” Simon asked.

  “No,” James said quickly and pulled himself away and then added almost angrily, “Of course not.”

  Gaughran wiped his mustache with his handkerchief and said, “Perhaps, we should wait upwind?”

  Simon fought down his revulsion and observed what he could about the body. Forensic science was still in its infancy and any sort of identification would be difficult. From what little he knew of such things, she'd been dead several weeks, although, with the heat, it could have been more recent than that. The grave was shallow, dug in haste. He leaned in a little closer.

  Her dress had been torn at the neckline, probably from scavenging animals. A thin chain from a necklace of some sort glimmered in between the gaps of torn fabric. He continued to study the body as best he could and that's when he noticed a small hole in her skull just above the temple. The hair obscured some of it, but it was clear that the bone had been cracked, and a small piece dislodged. It was possible it had happened post-mortem, but somehow Simon knew that wasn't the case. This woman had been murdered.

  “She's not going anywhere,” Gaughran said, waving him over to where he and Harper stood waiting.

  Simon glared at him and nearly lectured him on having a little respect. Instead, he looked down at the poor woman again and made his second promise to the dead. He would find out who did this and justice would be served.

  The three waited in relative silence until Eli returned with several slaves and a wagon, should the police need it to transport the body. As it would be several hours before the police could arrive, a few slaves lit torches around the perimeter of the area and were left to the grim task of waiting for help to arrive.

  When Simon returned to the house, he found Elizabeth in their room preparing for the party, which, shamefully, had not been cancelled. As they changed into fresh clothes, Simon told what little he'd seen.

  “She'd been there a few weeks?” she mused aloud as she laid out her dress.

  “Possibly.”

  Elizabeth stopped fussing her clothes. “How long ago did Mary's mother leave?”

  Simon paused. “Mrs. Nolan said it had been about a month since Mary had been brought to the orphanage. So just before that I would assume.”

  “The timing fits.” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “And why would she suddenly leave Mary after almost eight years?”

  Simon considered that. “I don't know. We know so little about their life together. It's possible something changed.”

  “Or she was…” Elizabeth said, not wanting to say the word.

  “Murdered.”

  Elizabeth sighed and nodded. “That would certainly explain why Mary's so upset. Maybe she wants us to solve her mother's murder?”

  Simon nodded, although he sensed there was more to it than that.

  Elizabeth returned to smoothing out her dress. “Whatever's going on, a body was found at River Run. Not a coincidence.”

  “No,” Simon agreed.

  He turned to look into the mirror to adjust his tie and watched Elizabeth in the reflection. “About earlier…”

  Elizabeth stopped working on her dress and turned to him. Her expression was compassionate, but also a little exasperated. She joined him by the mirror and turned him so she could work on his tie for him. “Did you really think he was attacking me?”

  “I heard you scream. It…I can't say I was thinking very clearly after that.”

  She sighed and nodded. “I guess it did look bad. But, he's not a bad guy, Simon. He's actually—”

  “Accusing me of beating you?” The memory of it sparked a fresh wave of anger.

  Elizabeth's face fell and she patted his now finished tie. “From his perspective,” she said as she shrugged off her robe. “It kind of makes sense.”

  A deep blue and purple bruise had blossomed on her upper arm where the man had held her at the race. It made his stomach roil. It also, however, was the penny drop that made him realize what Eli must have been thinking.

  “He saw us arguing at the race,” she said as she slipped on her corset and turned for Simon to pull the laces. “Or at least what looked like arguing. You grabbed me. I winced.”

  Simon tied the laces and then ran a hand gently over her shoulder. The idea that anyone could see him as the sort of man who could hurt a woman, much less hurt Elizabeth made him angry and sick to his stomach.

  Elizabeth turned around to face him. “He's trying to protect me.”

  “From me,” Simon said, the whole of it clear to him. He sighed and tried to ignore his growing sense of shame. He picked up one of her petticoats. “What were you doing there in the first place?”

  “I went for a walk.”

  “Naked?”

  “No,” Elizabeth said as she motioned for him to hold out the petticoat so she could step into it. “That came later.”

  Simon narrowed his eyes at her.

  “What? It was hot. You try wearing all this for a day,” she said as she picked up another petticoat.

  Simon helped her into it and then stood and faced her. While he was sorry it had happened at all, and he had reacted badly, he didn't really regret it. Considering the circumstances and Elizabeth's penchant for finding herself in dangerous situations, he'd do the same thing again. Trouble wasn't just attracted to his wife; it absolutely stalked her.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, hoping she wouldn't ask just what for.

  Elizabeth smiled and tiptoed up to kiss his cheek. “Apology accepted.”

  He looped his arms around her waist and pulled her body against him. “I'm really very sorry.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but played along and arched an eyebrow. “Very?”

  He nodded solemnly and she lean
ed up to kiss him again. He held her close and deepened the kiss. “I'm repentant,” he whispered and kissed along her neck. “Remorseful.” He added another kiss. “Contrite.” And another.

  Elizabeth purred under his kisses. “You should apologize more often.”

  “Yes.” He scooped her up into his arms. “I'm sorry we're going to be late to the party.”

  Elizabeth's laughter filled the room and they were indeed late.

  ~~~

  The party was, unsurprisingly, subdued, and talk of the discovery dominated conversation. Theories ranged from the romantic, a tragic end to a love triangle, to the dubious, the secret start of a slave revolt. Simon found a quiet spot away from the nattering and kept his own theory to himself. If the woman was Alice Stewart, why was she here at River Run? To which of the Harpers was she connected? And how?

  At first blush, Alice Stewart's previous life as a prostitute implicated Elijah. He was clearly familiar enough with them to know that Simon had visited one. It was hardly a stretch to think he himself had been a customer on occasion. James appeared fully dedicated to his wife and child, but there was a strain in his relationship with Rose that was becoming more evident. Had he sought comfort in the arms of another woman? From Alice Stewart? If so, had Rose found out?

  Simon shook his head. It was all idle speculation and no more helpful than any other supposition. They'd have to wait until the woman was identified. If she could be.

  He felt his mood darken at that thought until he sensed Elizabeth arrive at his side.

  “Some party, huh?” she said before she took a sip of punch.

  Simon grunted, but turned to look at her. Right now, he needed the affirmation of life she provided. She smiled up at him and he felt his heart lighten.

  The housemaid Rose had sent up had worked her hair into some semblance of order, but like Elizabeth herself, it refused to fully cooperate and loose curls escaped to touch her cheek. It was a departure from the severe styles of the day, Elizabeth had explained away as “the latest in Paris fashion.” Her dress showed her slender shoulders and just enough décolletage to make him wish the night was over and they could be alone again. “I realize this is undoubtedly a wildly inappropriate thing to say considering the circumstances,” Simon said, “but dear God you are beautiful.”