Born of Proud Blood

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Born of Proud Blood Page 13

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio


  “Then how will we see our way across these God forsaken grounds?” Suzanna complained.

  “I’ve been down the path so many times, I could walk it blindfolded,” Leah said. She reached for the cut rope, handing them each a long section. “We will all ’old an end. I will go first, then Miss Riley, and last Lady Wellington.”

  “Why must I be last?” Suzanna whined.

  “Because Miss Riley is injured, and should she fall, we will both be aware o’ it. In that way we will not get separated, and I will be able to lead ye both to the safe place.”

  “Nay a soul should ever call you daft again,” Riley said, glaring in Suzanna’s direction.

  “Aye, I have to admit you have thought out our escape quite carefully,” Suzanna acknowledged. Then she narrowed her gaze and added, “Now we’ll see just how successful your plan actually is.”

  The three of them, Leah leading with the knapsack over her shoulder, exited the cave. Each step brought a shooting pain up Riley’s injured leg. But she bit her lip and choked back her moans, trying her best to keep a grip on the rope she held before and behind her, without losing her balance. All she needed was to fall a second time, landing on the same knee, and she was sure she’d never be able to stand again.

  “Go slow ’ere,” Leah instructed. “The land dips and then quickly rises.”

  She sucked in her breath and stepped carefully down, then immediately up. All the while her knee throbbed in searing agony. Though there was a chilling night breeze, perspiration formed upon her brow. If she didn’t think of something other than the pain, she would not be able to carry on. She was sure Lady Wellington would have nay a problem leaving her behind, but she had a strong feeling Leah wouldn’t agree. To see her punished for helping them seemed worse than anything she might be doled out. And to believe the women could carry her was far-fetched. Nay, she must be able to walk the terrain on her own validation.

  Squaring her shoulders, she brought to mind a game she played as a child. Though she never starved, she did go to bed many a night hungry. As her stomach rumbled with the raw pains of emptiness, she’d think of something pleasant. The pain seemed to cease when she thought of warm summer days by a cool lake, a doll dressed in velvet for her to cuddle, a puppy of her very own, or shiny shoes upon her feet that actually fit her well. Unfortunately her taste for such pleasantries changed and conjuring up the things that worked before, left her lacking now.

  So what will I summon to help me through this journey?

  It wasn’t a specific thing that came to mind, but a special person...Gabriel Eagle. If she hadn’t gone looking to meet her father, she’d be enjoying a quiet evening with him, getting to know him better, and having the opportunity to gaze into his sapphire eyes. With Collette Halston out of the scene, one never knew what might transpire. She smiled as she brought to mind his broad shoulders and muscular chest, bared and ready for her touch.

  How would his full lips feel on mine...his hands caressing my neck, shoulders, moving down to cup my...

  A flash of light broke her thoughts, followed by a force. It struck Leah, knocking her down. “Now I’ve got ye, ye sneaky little bitch.”

  In unison she and Suzanna fell as well, the injured knee coming down hard upon the ground. Riley felt the already torn flesh break further. She cried out in pain and let go of the ropes.

  The force continued to tackle Leah.

  “Get off o’ me! Leave me alone!” Leah’s slaps and punches could be heard hitting flesh.

  “Ye little traitor, when I get ye back to the ship, I’m beatin’ every inch of ye ’til ye are nothin’ but a bluddy mess,” the voice threatened. “And that goes for the rest of ye.”

  The lantern, which was the flash of light she’d seen, still burned, laying a foot away. And though the fog bubbled up from the ground like steam from a boiling kettle, mist so thick it appeared the earth took a deep breath and then exhaled it all in one blast; the lantern served its purpose. Enough light was cast upon the situation for her to glimpse the figure of a burly, unshaven man wearing a stained apron. His stubby arms were well-muscled beneath his dirty shirt as his fists came down upon Leah’s back, beating her frail body over and over again.

  “I’ll teach ye to steal my best cookin’ knife,” he growled. Then he ceased the punches and hoisted Leah up by the scruff of her neck.

  “Get yer filthy ’ands off me!” Leah kicked his shins with her feet.

  Suzanna moved forward. “Leave her alone, you bloody bastard!” She clawed at the man’s back.

  His backward punch slammed Suzanna in the face, and she fell to the ground. There she remained, with her eyes closed and lying very still.

  Good God, was she dead? And how long would it take for this man to kill Leah, then me?

  With such horror-filled thoughts racing through her, Riley forced herself to stand. Putting weight upon her leg brought tears to her eyes, but she moved forward in spite of the agony. Hobbling over to where the lantern lay, she reached for it, trembling fingers finding the handle. Just as she was about to raise the lamp and smash it hard against the man’s head, a dagger whizzed through the air. It pierced the man’s throat. He released his hold on Leah to grip the dagger’s handle.

  Blood spurt from the puncture, and the man gurgled and choked as he tried to pull the blade free, but his efforts were in vain. Gasping for breath, he fell to his knees, his blood-shot eyes bulged from their sockets and his thick tongue hung out from the side of his mouth. In seconds he keeled over dead.

  The odor of blood and death filled the air. Nausea swelled, bile rising to clog her throat. But she gulped it down, moving to brace herself against the trunk of a nearby tree. Her hands shook, and the lantern slipped from her fingers, rolling a few inches from her feet. Her vision swam, her heart raced, and she fought to stay conscious.

  I cannot faint. I cannot faint. Not now. Not now.

  A rustling came from the bushes. Through blurred vision she could distinguish two more figures emerging, one large, the other slightly smaller. The larger one pulled the dagger from the dead man’s throat, wiping the bloody blade on the victim’s trousers before sheathing it in his boot. Then silently, the two, one taking the dead man by the feet, and the other grabbing his shoulders, moved him to lie concealed beneath a clump of brush.

  By this time her vision swirled into sickening proportions. Weak and nauseated, she rested her head back against the tree’s massive trunk. What would happen now?

  When the men emerged from the brush, she watched helplessly as Leah pulled from her skirt pocket the cook’s knife and ran at the larger shape, screaming like a banshee in the night.

  “Halt, woman, I am not here to hurt you,” came the larger figure’s stern, deep tone, as he easily wrestled Leah gently to the ground, removed the knife from her clutches, and threw it aside.

  The man’s rich baritone brought tears of relief welling in her eyes.

  I know that voice.

  Leah continued to kick and scream.

  By now the larger man had her lying flat upon her stomach so the smaller man could sit on her legs.

  “Ugh, this is a feisty one,” the second man remarked.

  I know that voice too, but how could it be?

  “Stop, Leah,” she choked out. “These men will not harm you.” She tried to control her sobs of liberation, but they overcame her.

  He caught her, just as her legs gave out and embraced her within his strong arms, holding her tight to his chest. She could hear his heart racing, smell the musk and spice of his flesh.

  “How did you know where to find me?” she whispered.

  “From Top Hat Tom,” he said.

  “Thank heaven, then he’s alive,” she sobbed, laying her head upon his shoulder.

  “He was when I left Collins Stead, though he suffered greatly from a knife wound,” he said.

  “I saw it all, both he and Naomi cut down right before my eyes,” she said.

  He lifted her chin with a finger, and s
he met his gaze, looking deeply into Gabriel Eagle’s eyes.

  “All that matters is for us to get somewhere safe, a place to hide until more help arrives,” he said, wiping her tears away with a gentle swipe of his thumb. Shifting her body’s weight, he stood holding her. He moved like she weighed no more than a feather.

  Riley looked at Oliver, who was checking on Suzanna Wellington.

  “How does that one do?” Gabriel said.

  “She’ll ’ave a ’eadache when she coomes around, but otherwise nay a thing more that I can see,” Oliver said.

  “We must move quickly,” Gabriel said.

  “She was taking us to a safe place,” she offered, glancing down at Leah who remained upon the ground, her eyes dazed. “You were so very brave and clever,” she praised the younger woman in a soft tone. “And now we will not have to escape on our own. We have help.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The twigs snapped beneath Gabriel’s boots, dried leaves and coarse sand crunched as he walked across the un-even terrain. Leah, at the head of the small band of travelers, the lantern she held void of light, issued warnings from time to time concerning the condition of the land.

  “There’s a drop ’ere,” she would say, as she slowed her pace. Or alert them to the land rising, a right turn, then a left turn, and so on.

  “I pray, miss, we arrive soon at our destination,” Oliver said, quite out of breath.

  Gabriel snickered. “Is Lady Wellington getting a bit heavy for you?”

  “I think she’d be ’eavy for anyone,” was his retort. “The woman must enjoy devourin’ ’er sweets upon every occasion she can.”

  Leah giggled. “’Tisn’t much farther, sir.”

  “Oliver, miss. Call me Oliver.”

  Gabriel smiled. Oliver seemed a bit smitten with young Leah. Perhaps he could help things along a bit, put the poor girl in an even better light. “I admire your tracking abilities, Leah,” he said.

  “I thank ye, sir,” she responded.

  “Especially void of light,” he added. “Right now I am relying upon my scouting experience not to lose track of you.” Of course, he would be hard pressed to admit or let on his keen instincts were somewhat distracted by the woman he held in his arms as he trekked to the safe place waiting them.

  I believe I have become somewhat smitten, myself.

  In view of the current situation, smitten was rather mild for how he felt. Riley’s warm curvy form, held tight against his chest, did little to enhance his wilderness training and a lot to fuel his imagination. Unlike the petticoats and skirts usually worn, the men’s clothes she donned concealed nothing of her shapely body. His right hand, supporting her back, and his left hand, familiarly placed beneath her thighs, burned with the feel of her.

  As the ground beneath his feet descended and ascended, she snuggled closer, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. Her full breasts, pressed close against his chest, sent shivers of desire through his loins. The round, hard peaks of her ample pair could be felt through the shirt’s flimsy material, rising and falling with each intake of her breath. He felt her heart beating...racing...matching his. He forced himself to concentrate on the situation at hand, instead of imagining how her breasts would look bared and cupped in the palms of his hands.

  Flushed and bothered, he was grateful for the darkness, as it hid his need now growing hard beneath his britches. Inhaling sharply, he raised his face to the heavens, taking in the stars that painted the sky, welcoming the night breeze rustling the bushes and gossiping through the trees. It cooled his face and neck, gave him enough pause to begin controlling his yearnings so he would not embarrass himself in front of the women.

  “Am I heavy as well?” Riley whispered. Her face was nestled beneath his chin, and when she spoke, her warm breath and soft lips caressed his neck.

  “No, you are nothing to carry,” he said, his breath compromised by his rising condition.

  She raised her head, and even in the dark, he felt the gaze of those beautiful emerald orbs on him. “But you can scarcely...”

  “All is fine...will be fine.” He cleared his throat. “I just need a moment.”

  “A moment? A moment for what?”

  “Just trust I need one,” he mumbled.

  “Oh—oh my word,” she whispered, finally catching on to the real reason for his rapid breathing. She stiffened slightly in his arms and loosened her grip around his neck. “I didn’t even stop to think...I am so sorry.”

  “Please, do not be,” he said softly.

  I am not.

  Now it was her turn to clear her throat. “I can’t imagine this safe place being much farther, can you?” she said, shifting ground to another subject.

  “No,” he said, glad she did not know what he was really imagining.

  “Perhaps you could tell me how it is you were able to find me,” she said, obviously giving him the moment he requested.

  “Top Hat Tom helped us,” he explained what they had learned from the elder man. By the time he finished his story, all conditions at his nether regions were under control.

  “We’re only ten feet from my ’aven,” Leah notified them.

  He scoped his surroundings. Monuments of stone angels and Christian crosses stood silhouetted in the darkness. Leah was taking them through a burial ground.

  Upon the same recognition, Riley shuddered in his arms.

  “Do you fear the land we enter?” He tightened his embrace to comfort her.

  “Aye, I do,” she whispered. “More so at night than by day, but it is still unsettling.”

  “It is only a place where ancestral spirits rest. Not a one of those who have passed wishes us any harm,” he reassured her. “My people believe those who have gone on from this life guide those of us who are still here. They are called Spirit Guides and are not meant to bring us fear or harm.”

  At his words she seemed to relax but also muttered, “That may be true, but superstitions in England die hard. Besides, what happens when a soul who meant to harm you in life comes beckoning again?”

  He had no time to answer. Leah had stopped and after rummaging in her pockets for a match, lit the lantern to reveal an old church. The windows, with remnants of broken stained glass stuck in the frames, were nearly overgrown with vines. The doors hung crooked on their hinges. Pushing aside one of the broken panels, Leah made her way over the threshold. The lantern’s swelling yellow light illuminated a long, narrow corridor. Various religious paintings covered the walls, as well as statues secluded in corners. White sheets draped over some of the statues created an illusion of phantoms from another realm.

  Riley shuddered again and must have read his mind because with a slant look she said, “This place is even more unsettling.”

  Unsettling, for sure, but what I feel has nothing to do with where we are.

  Leah stopped at a door at the end of the hallway. “I believe this was once the sanctuary.” Coming to a large bookcase filled with old books of every shape and size, she pulled on a wall sconce. The bookcase opened like a door. “This stairway will take us to my safe place,” Leah said, angling the lantern to shine its best on what lay ahead. “Watch yer step, the stairs are steep, narrow, and in bad need o’ repair.”

  Oliver grunted and groaned as they descended the old staircase. Hard enough to carry Lady Wellington altogether, but down a narrow stairway was an even riskier feat. He did not envy the younger man.

  Once at the bottom, Leah set her lantern upon an old wooden table, freed Oliver from the rope connecting them, then rushed around the chamber to light two more lamps. A dog barked, and a cat jumped from a wooden beam.

  “Have nay a concern over them,” Leah said. “They’re my family. I rescued Rufus,” she said, pointing to the cream and russet colored cat crouched in a corner, “from a hunter’s trap. And Nellie”, she said, turning her attention upon a scruffy looking white dog lying on an old blanket with one leg bandaged, “after his owner thought he had put him down.”


  Gabriel smiled at the younger woman. “You remind me of my sister Sunny. Back home, in America, she healed all sorts of critters, saved many from death as well.”

  As he walked further into the large chamber, he sized up his surroundings, something a warrior was trained to do and comes as second nature. Musty-smelling and laced with cobwebs, the underground room was in a strong state of dilapidation. Green mold clung to sections of the walls, and fungi gathered on the rotted boards supporting the wooden beams. The fireplace’s stonework had dangerously decayed. Yellow, tattered drapery half-hung from a rotted frame over small windows set high on the walls. Leah removed the knapsack from her shoulders and gazed around the place with pride.

  “Well, this is it.” She knelt beside the dog to scratch him behind an ear. “Make yerselves at ’ome.”

  Gabriel’s spirit ached with pity for the poor girl. For someone to be so proud and thankful to have only a dog and cat as family, or a dank, moldy chamber beneath an old, forgotten church to call her own, was truly heart wrenching. Yet, many of his people did not have much more since the white agents arrived.

  Leah indicated two cots covered with faded quilts. “Best ye men place the ladies to rest.”

  Oliver sighed, relieved to be rid of his charge. Gabriel, on the other hand, was not so eager to release Riley. She fit well in his embrace, like she belonged there. As he gently placed her upon one of the mattresses, its musty smell rose to greet him.

  Leah cast a glance at the stone fireplace. “I dare not light it for warmth as someone would see the smoke. ’Twould probably smoke us out anyway, since it ’asn’t been fired up in years.”

  Lady Wellington stirred and opened her eyes.

  “Good day to ye, my lady,” Oliver said, inclining his head politely.

  The other woman only stared, her dark, round eyes wide with confusion.

  “All is well, my lady,” Leah chimed in. “These ’ere chaps are friends o’ Miss Riley, and they’ve coome to ’elp us.”

  “Friends?” Lady Wellington repeated.

  “Aye,” Riley said, scooting herself up to lean her back against the wall. “This is Mr. Gabriel Eagle,” she introduced, “heir to Collins Stead. And this is Oliver Mills, who is much like a brother to me.”

 

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