Born of Proud Blood

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  Oliver’s tone was agitated. “What if they coome too late, and the others are sent to the island?”

  He took a deep breath to clear his own mind and spoke calmly. “Without Lady Wellington’s testimony, these men will continue to get away with the marketing of women. Do you not see,” he added, “she is the key to saving them all.”

  Oliver gritted his teeth. “Aye, I see, ’tis because she’s born of proud blood that ’er safety counts. And a poor girl’s plight means nothin’.”

  “No, it is because she has a title and an influential father the authorities cannot ignore.” He frowned. “You of all people should understand that.”

  “Title, money, proud blood, ’tis all the same,” Oliver grumbled.

  “It is not the same at all,” he said. “I have known many proud men, my father included, who have not the financial wealth or the title of a lord or duke. Yet they have riches beyond compare because they are honest, loyal, and brave. Men would die for them, their families love them, and they will not cower in shame when it is time to meet their maker. That is proud blood, Oliver.”

  At that moment Riley draped her arm around the other girl’s shoulder, shielding her from the cold with a part of her cape.

  “See ’ow she worries for the sake o’ others,” Oliver pointed out. “She would never ’urt anyone and truly cares for all folks. She is a tender soul, beautiful and kind.”

  Though he felt a twinge of jealousy hearing Oliver’s declaration of admiration and high esteem for Riley, he agreed with the younger man’s assessment. And his heart warmed toward the woman he had come to save, yearning to hold her close and kiss her full lips. He was sure they would be soft and sweet.

  “I was but ten when I came to live at Collins Stead with my auntie,” Oliver continued. “Miss Riley took care o’ me sometimes, ’elped me learn to read.” He glanced at Gabriel. “Did ye know she could sing and play the piano?”

  He shook his head. “I had no idea.”

  Oliver smirked. “That’s because ye don’t stay around long enough when ye coome to Collins Stead.”

  Oliver was right. Whenever Gabriel came into London, it was to spend time with Collette Halston. How many trips had he wasted getting to know the wrong woman?

  “Well, she is quite remarkable, actually,” Oliver went on. “She has the voice o’ an angel...or o’ what I think an angel’s voice might sound like. And she sings all the time while tendin’ the garden or ’elping my auntie in the kitchen.”

  “You seem to have her always in your view,” he commented, his tone coming out sarcastic.

  “There’s nay a need to get yerself riled,” Oliver said, arching a brow. “She sees me as nothin’ more than a little brother.” He chuckled mischievously. “Though ’tis easy for me to see ’er as much more.”

  He cleared his throat. “What leads you to believe I am in the least bit riled?”

  “Besides the tone o’ ye voice, this time ’tis my keen eye,” Oliver quipped.

  He frowned. “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Don’t ye?” Oliver challenged. “Since ye ’ave rid yerself o’ the wrong woman and opened yer eyes to the right woman, ye ’ave suddenly set yer claims upon ’er.”

  His frown deepened. “I have done nothing whatsoever to lay any claims to Riley Flanders. I just want to see her safely returned to Collins Stead and these men stopped.”

  “Uh-hum, keep tellin’ yerself that’s all ye’re ’ere for, and perhaps in a ’undred years, ye might really begin to believe it,” Oliver teased. “But ye aren’t the only one bitten by fate and tryin’ to ignore it.”

  He chuckled. “Ah, now fate is involved...and being ignored, no less.”

  “Fate is always involved, and I’ve been watchin’ Miss Riley tryin’ to ignore it, but the way she looks at ye gives ’er away.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “And how does she look at me?”

  Oliver smirked. “Like ye alone could fill ’er world. And she’s the sort o’ woman who would fill a man’s world quite nicely as well.”

  He arched a brow. “And what would you know about how a woman could fill a man’s world?”

  “I’m young, not daft.” Oliver shook his head and chuckled. “The pair o’ ye are ’opeless.”

  Oliver was right. He might be young, but he certainly had good insight, and the words he spoke were not only true but held much wisdom. The elders in his tribe would say Oliver was a young man with an old soul.

  He thought deeply of how his actions and Riley’s feelings would change the course of his life. He still wished to return to America to help his people, yet this new and wonderful feeling he had for Riley could not be overlooked either. He shook his head to clear it, realizing such a dilemma did not have to be figured out right now. His immediate attention must be served on the situation at hand. With that first and foremost on his mind, he turned his gaze back to the small band marching over the incline,

  At that exact moment, Riley stumbled, lost her balance, and fell to her knees. She took the younger girl, who was tied to her, down with her. The fall startled Gabriel, jerked his senses into action, and he had to force himself to remain still. His stomach tightened as he fought the impulse to run to her aid.

  Oliver, however, was not able to practice the same control and jumped to his feet, fists clenched at his side.

  He could not blame his companion for giving in to such a reaction, yet Gabriel shot out a restraining hand, stopping the younger man from moving another inch. Riley was helped to her feet by the younger woman and upon standing turned to search the woods. Her gaze wondered over her surroundings and rested for a moment in Oliver’s direction before she moved on.

  He pulled Oliver down beside him, keeping a grip on his arm.

  Oliver swallowed hard. “Do ye think she saw me?”

  He shook his head. “Though the moon is bright, it is still too dark for her to see you from this far away.”

  “But she looked right at me,” Oliver said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m sure of it. ’er eyes went right to mine, and I’m sure she saw me.”

  “She could not have, Oliver. But I do believe she felt someone watching her.” He knew the way people can sense things, be drawn by instinct. “And this is a good thing. If she has an inclination someone nearby might be watching and may decide to help, it will sustain her hope. And that little bit of optimism just might give her the courage to stay brave until we can make a move.”

  Oliver chuckled sardonically. “Brave, ’ow can she possible be the least bit brave, tied like a dog and at the mercy o’ these scoundrels?” He shook his head. “I’ve got a weapon, and I’m still afraid. Fact is I’m shakin’ in my boots and could piss myself at any moment.”

  “It is not shameful to be afraid, Oliver. Every man going into battle has his fears. But what is shameful is not doing anything about that fear, not standing up for what is right.”

  “Ye say such things so calmly.” Oliver took an audible breath. “I don’t understand ’ow ye can be so calm...just sit by and watch Miss Riley, and that other poor girl, being dragged along like a pair o’ animals.”

  “Inside, calm is the last thing I am,” he confessed, trying to control the emotion growing in his voice. “But if we give up our cover, there will be no chance to end this hell for her and the others.”

  Oliver locked eyes with Gabriel. “I want to kill every one o’ those bastards.”

  “If you do not keep your head, set your eye on what is most important for us to do right now, all will be lost. Do you want that to happen?”

  “Nay, never,” Oliver admitted.

  He released his grip on his companion’s arm. “Then clear your mind of what your heart is feeling. It will not be easy, but it is the only way a warrior can approach a battle.”

  “Then what, once I’ve done as ye say?” Oliver said, this time raising a defiant chin.

  “Then, my friend, you must ready yourself to win.”

  Chapter Fiftee
n

  Riley, her head resting against a smooth niche she found carved out in the damp and jagged cave wall, closed her eyes and silently prayed for the pain to cease from the injury. She felt so daft, tripping like a helpless twit and wounding her knee. Now the hot and vicious ache left her entire right leg in agony, and she feared she would not be able to stand again if she tried. With this new complication, she had no idea how she was to get herself, Leah, and Lady Wellington out of the mess they were in. Wasn’t it always her way to believe she should be the one to make a move, set something right, and be in control of a situation? Perhaps this sort of thinking stemmed from the last years she cared for Anita. The poor woman depended upon her like an infant. A baby caring for a baby was what the situation had been, for Riley was only nine years of age. So much responsibility for someone so young, and yet she did what needed to be done and lived to tell it.

  Will I live to tell it again?

  Leah dispelled her thoughts by returning with food, water, and a relief bucket. When handed her hunk of cheese and bread, she graciously accepted, but Lady Wellington was not so polite.

  “This is it? One stale piece of bread and a crusty slab of cheese,” Lady Wellington complained, narrowing her eyes. Her dark gaze impaled Leah as she threw the food. The bread hit the younger woman in the face, and she flinched but remained silent as she gathered the food from where it landed on the cave floor.

  “Have you eaten, Leah?” Riley said.

  “Nay, miss,” Leah said, sitting beside her with Lady Wellington’s share of food in her hands.

  “Then take mine,” she offered. “That food has been dirtied.”

  “Nay, miss, I cannot.”

  “Let the little twit eat what she retrieved from the ground,” Lady Wellington hissed. “It is only fitting for her kind.”

  She glared over at the other prisoner. “None of this is her fault. Why do you treat her so cruelly?”

  “Because she helps them,” Suzanna Wellington retorted. “The very men who ripped me from my home, humiliated, and demeaned me with their crude behavior. And now...now they will sell me like a piece of merchandise.” She choked back a sob. “She walks around free, this little nothing, and I, Lady Suzanna Wellington, am tied to a post like an animal waiting for the slaughter.”

  “I am far from free, my lady,” Leah murmured. She lowered her tear-filled eyes and hesitated before speaking further. Then, taking a deep breath and squaring her thin shoulders, she stood. Turning her back to them, she lifted her skirt, lowered her bloomers and bent over.

  Both Riley and Suzanna gasped. Leah’s round bum was marred with pink, raised whiplash marks, and down her thighs she was scarred with cigar burns.

  “If this is freedom, then I want nay a part o’ it,” the younger girl said, pulling up her bloomers and adjusting her skirt. For a moment she remained facing the cave wall, no doubt gathering her wits before glancing into their eyes again.

  Riley’s heart bleed for the poor girl. The hurt and humiliation she had endured made it all the more evident she had to find a way to get them free from these men.

  “I had no idea,” Suzanna said, her tone thick with emotion.

  “How could you believe differently?” Riley said. “Certainly this young girl didn’t choose to be here either.”

  “Did they...have they,” Suzanna stammered. She cleared her throat and continued with a softer and more sympathetic tone. “Have they indulged in sexual congress with you, Leah?”

  Leah then turned to face them, her flushed cheeks wet with tears. “Nay, the captain has instructed them I am to remain a virgin for a better first sale, though that does not mean my flesh cannot be marked,” she said, touching the scar along her left cheek. “After, it does not matter, as I will be used again and again, but for a lesser price, until the chance I become with child happens.”

  “Then what will they do?” Suzanna said.

  “They will take me to see Miss Inez, who lives down a dank ally,” Leah explained. “For a price Miss Inez can rid any woman o’ the child within her.” She shivered. “I went with my friend, Gloria, when she was in trouble. The stench was worse inside than it was outside the house, filth and trash litterin’ the hallways.”

  “And what became of Gloria?” Suzanna asked, her pale face stricken with horror.

  “She died four days later,” Leah said. “They all die, from either a fever or bleedin’ to death.”

  Riley shivered with the thought of so many women suffering and dying unnecessary deaths. She searched Leah’s tired and sad gaze. “When do they abuse you?”

  “Sometimes when the men drink the rum,” she hesitated, swallowing hard. “When they are drunk, they like to ’urt me, do things to me that will make me scream and cry.” She took an audible breath. “At first I tried my best not to break down, as I know ’tis what gives them pleasure. I think, I still ’ave my pride...and perhaps if they aren’t ’avin’ fun, they will stop. But instead, they keep it up ’til they ’ear my screams o’ pain. So now I cry quickly so they will stop, and ’tis not so ’ard to endure.”

  “Good God. What are these people?”

  “Leah you must...we all must get away from them. They’re sick, sick men,” she said.

  “But ’ow can that be possible? There are so many o’ them, and there is always one watchin’ my every move,” Leah said.

  “Is there not ever a time when they are less watchful, or a place you go where they don’t know about?” she probed.

  Leah bit her bottom lip. “There is perhaps one.”

  “Then free us and take us there, you little twit, before we’re all sold into bondage.”

  Riley turned sharply on Suzanna. “Your ridicule will get us nowhere.”

  “Oh, on the contrary, Miss Flanders. I have a staff of many, and it is that kind of treatment that gets them moving every time. If you allow the servants to walk all over you, nothing gets done.”

  “Such tactics never come to any good,” she argued. “A well-oiled household is one staffed with loyal help, not with those that fear and hate their employer. If we do not stick together, work in unity, then none of us is going to get away from these scoundrels.” Riley turned back to Leah. “If you know of a place where we can hide from these men, then we all need to go there, and quickly.”

  Leah nodded. “Soon their stomachs will be full, and they will bed down for the night. Perhaps then I can coome back ’ere to ’elp ye escape.”

  Riley offered her bread to Suzanna. “Eat, we must all eat,” she said. “And drink, for we need to keep up our strength. It is the only way we’re going to survive this situation.”

  Lady Wellington nodded and took the bread.

  At least there was a plan of action, somewhere to hide from their kidnappers. But where they go from there, Riley hadn’t a clue.

  Sitting tied to a wall in a dark, dank cave made the hours drag. When Leah didn’t return, she feared the poor girl had been found out and lay beaten and bound somewhere. But Leah prevailed, finally entering the cave with an old knapsack over her shoulder.

  Riley’s eyes filled with tears of relief. “I feared something happened to you. If you were hurt because of me, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “Nay, the lout o’ them asked me to dance for them tonight,” Leah explained. “’Twas my good fortune they were too drunk to want nay a thing more.” Laying the knapsack on the ground, she gestured to it with a finger. “I brought these clothes for ye to wear. ’Tis much easier to make it to the safe place with ye two lookin’ like ye are just a few o’ the chaps walkin’ about the island.” She pulled a knife from her apron pocket. “Took one o’ the cook’s blades, the one ’e uses to scale and clean fish. ’Twas all I could get my ’ands on in a ’urry.” Taking the knife in trembling hands, Leah cut Suzanna and Riley free. “Now dress quickly and put yer own clothes in the sack. I don’t want them left in the cave. That way the men will believe ye both are still wearin’ them. ’urry now,” she urged them. “We don’t ’av
e much time before someone discovers I’ve left camp, and we’ve got quite a walk to where ’tis safe.” She pulled from the bottom of the sack a pair of boots, scuffed and worn, but wearable. “Ain’t yer size, my lady, or yer fashion, I’m sure. But I figured ye can’t be traipsin’ all over in yer bare feet, with the ground so full o’ rocks and all.”

  Lady Wellington curled up her nose at the sight and smell of her new footwear. “And what happens if their owner goes looking for the wretched things?”

  “I don’t think ’e’s about to do that, my lady, since ’e died o’ food poisonin’ last week,” Leah said.

  Suzanna took the boots using only a thumb and forefinger and holding them out far from her person. “God save the Queen and all her children.”

  “Worry about the Queen and ’er mites later, my lady,” Leah said. “I’m sure she’s got more folks ’elpin’ ’er than we do.”

  As Riley dressed, she stifled a smile. At least Suzanna was remaining civil, no matter how completely forced her actions were. If she continued to work united for a common cause, then they just might be able to save themselves from their troubles.

  Leah cast a glance at Riley’s knee. “The wound’s seepin’, miss. I should’ve brought bandages and salve as well.”

  “You did fine, Leah.” She tried not to wince as she pulled the trousers up and over her pain-filled knee. Putting pressure on the limb was even more agonizing, but there was no other choice.

  She braced herself against the cave while she stuffed her curls into a cap Leah had provided. It took no time for Suzanna to wind her braid atop her head and slip the cap over. But Riley wore her hair free, curls flowing about her shoulders, so it took longer to wad the thick mass in place.

  “We dare not take a torch,” Leah advised. “Don’t wanna take a chance anyone will spot us.”