by Julia Tagan
“You’ve made Dolly into a kind of saint, you know,” said Catherine. “She made mistakes, too, not the least of which was agreeing to marry that man.”
“She didn’t have a choice,” he bellowed.
“And neither did I.”
“Don’t you dare compare yourself to my sister.” He was being cruel, but a twisted part of him couldn’t stop it.
She sobbed quietly, and Benjamin realized the damage he’d done. He was wrong, and opened his mouth to apologize.
“Catherine, I...”
Benjamin was unable to finish. At the sound of men’s voices he whirled his horse around. They were in serious trouble.
16
“Keep behind me.” Benjamin looked over at Catherine. Her face was pale and her eyes enormous. “Do you hear me?”
She nodded and pulled her horse back. He moved his forward a few paces and stopped.
Two men on horses galloped hard up the road. The eyes of their mounts were wild and Benjamin heard the crack of a crop cut through the noise of their shouts.
“Can’t we outrun them?” asked Catherine.
“No, they’re coming up too fast. Whatever you do, stay on your horse.”
The pursuers pulled up a few yards from Benjamin. “Are you Mr. Benjamin Thomas?” asked one of the men.
“No. Who do you think you are? My wife and I are out for a quiet ride.”
The man turned his attention to Catherine. “And are you Mrs. Catherine Delcour?”
She sat, stone-faced, on her mount. Benjamin was glad to see she’d squelched her fear. Not many women would be able to do so under the circumstances.
“What do you want?” asked Benjamin.
“I think you know,” the man sneered. He had a mercenary look in his eyes, and was dressed poorly, as was his partner. Benjamin guessed Carpenter had ordered a couple of his oafs out after them. From what Benjamin could tell, only one of them, the leader, was a good rider. The other, who had an ugly scar across his cheek, looked as if he spent most of his life on his own two feet and was unsteady in the saddle.
“Pretty girl you have there,” said the one with the scar.
“Shut up,” said the leader. “I’ll handle this.” He pointed at Catherine. “Get off your horse.”
“I will not.” She put a protective hand over the satchel.
“You’ll do what I say. We’ve been told by Mr. Carpenter to bring you back to him.”
“I’ll make up my own mind where I go,” she said. “And it won’t be with you.”
The leader didn’t reply, instead he ordered the scarred man to dismount. The man did so, clumsily, his horse dancing in place. The horse was as unsure about his rider as the rider was about the horse.
“Dismount, Mrs. Delcour,” repeated the leader. “I’m not going to ask again.”
“Don’t do it,” said Benjamin.
The scarred man on the ground leapt at Catherine while the other urged his horse forward into Benjamin’s. Benjamin pressed one heel into his horse’s flank and sidestepped away.
“Let me go,” Catherine screamed.
Benjamin pulled his reins to the right and whirled his horse around. The man with the scar had pulled Catherine off her horse and was dragging her toward the side of the road. She kicked hard, making it difficult for the man to get a grip on her.
Benjamin was suddenly transported back to Haiti. The screams, the grappling, sent a rush of adrenaline through his body. He froze for a split second, then his anger took over and he twirled his horse back around. This time he wasn’t a frightened young boy hiding in the roadside, in fact he was stronger and smarter than these two put together. Benjamin would deal with the leader first, and hope Catherine could keep her attacker at bay in the meantime.
The leader lunged his horse forward into Benjamin’s once again. The two men exchanged blows, each trying to knock the other off his mount. Out of the corner of his eye, Benjamin noticed Catherine’s attacker was on top of her.
“Ow! You bloody bitch. She bit me,” yelled the man, clutching his ear.
Benjamin, entangled in his own fight, heard the other man slap Catherine hard. Benjamin finally got a solid punch in. As the leader pulled back to recover, Benjamin dismounted from his horse and ran toward Catherine. The scarred man was about to hit her again, but Benjamin caught his cocked arm and twisted it. The man cried out in pain. With a solid blow to the head, Benjamin knocked him out cold.
“You think you’re so clever, do you?” asked the leader.
Even though his words were tough, the man’s voice had lost its edge now his partner was incapacitated. He kicked his horse hard and galloped toward Catherine, raising his crop in the air.
Benjamin jumped in front of her, arms outstretched. At the last minute, the horse veered away. A searing pain ripped across Benjamin’s cheek as the man slashed the crop across his face. Ignoring the stinging, Benjamin reached up and grabbed the back of the man’s coat, pulled hard, and yanked him off his horse.
Benjamin tasted blood from the gash. His fury at Delcour, stifled for years, coursed through his veins as he punched the man, over and over, until he lay motionless in the dirt.
* * * *
Catherine saw Benjamin grimace with pain. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” he said. “Just banged up.”
“Come to the side of the road and sit for a moment. Can you make it?”
She wrapped her arms around him and helped him to a rock a few paces from the roadway. Her heart was racing and she still wasn’t sure what had happened. She’d been pulled from her horse and all hell had broken loose.
“Thank you, Benjamin.” Catherine knelt down and examined the wound on his face. It wasn’t as deep as she had feared. She tore a piece of cloth from the bottom of her skirt and dabbed it gently on his cheek.
“How’s the Yquem?”
Catherine pulled the satchel open and peered inside. “Surprisingly, it’s still in one piece. Unlike our attackers.”
“We’d better head out now.”
“My mount appears to have run off, but yours is still here. Can you manage? We’re still several miles from the house.”
He nodded. She held the horse by the reins as Benjamin got into the saddle. She made sure the satchel was secured around her and took his hand, put one foot in the stirrup, and landed neatly on the horse’s rump behind him.
“You steady there?”
She wrapped her hands around his waist and nodded into his back. The closeness of him, and the smell of him, brought the memories of the past few days flooding back, and she couldn’t speak.
“Mrs. Daggett must have alerted Carpenter,” he said. “We need to get to the Mount and fetch Sophie and you’ll be on your way.”
She didn’t say anything as they headed north. Back in the townhouse, while retrieving the ledger, she’d heard Benjamin’s voice coming through the open window of the study. She’d moved closer, listening, and was horrified by what he’d said to Mrs. Daggett about her. That she’d bewitched him and betrayed him, all part of a long pattern of scandalous behavior. Catherine could tell by the tone of his voice he had meant every word. Benjamin believed she’d tricked him, and used him, when nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, Catherine loved him, more than anything. She loved the way Benjamin looked at her, even when he was angry, and the timbre of his voice and the quiet way he had of being in the world. She loved him.
For a moment, she considered telling him the truth about her marital status. Then she remembered Percy’s reaction. She couldn’t know if Benjamin would be relieved by the news he hadn’t bedded a married woman, or horrified she’d been living in sin with Morris for the past five years. It was possible it would confirm everything he already thought about her, and wasn’t worth the risk. She wouldn’t be able to take the pain.
She would let Benjamin believe she was moving on to the next man. With the proceeds from the Yquem, Catherine would build a new world wherever they ended up next. An
d she would happily die a spinster. The memories of her time with Benjamin would more than warm her on the many lonely nights to come.
The fact that she wouldn’t see him again after he dropped her off at the Mount hit full force, and she gave a quiet gasp.
“What’s wrong?” His voice sounded worried.
“Nothing,” she replied. They didn’t have long. She hated to leave him like this, after they’d been so awful to each other.
“I’m sorry about what I said about Dolly.”
Benjamin’s body tensed beneath her arms. “I shouldn’t be living in the past.”
“It’s hard to prevent sometimes. I do appreciate you helping me find my sister. And I’m sorry you’ll never be able to see yours again. I should never have said what I did.”
“I’m glad to have been of service.” She couldn’t see his face, but she heard a break in his voice, one she didn’t expect.
“One thing that helped me when I missed Sophie was remembering the last time I saw her laughing, happy,” she said. “The day before I was sent away with Mr. Delcour, I found Sophie playing outside in the front yard. The roses were in bloom and she’d go up and sniff one, then kiss it, and then she’d turn to me with the most beautiful smile. I half expected her to try eating one of the blooms next.”
Benjamin gave a slight shake, as if he were holding off a deep pain.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“No.” He turned his face and Catherine saw a single tear run down his cheek. She lifted up her hand and brushed it away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel sad.”
“It’s not that,” he said, but he didn’t continue.
“When Mr. Delcour talked about the uprising, he said he’d tried desperately to save your sister, if that helps at all.”
Benjamin scoffed and his body stiffened against hers again. “I was there, I saw everything. He did nothing of the sort.”
“I thought you’d been knocked out. Isn’t that what you told him?”
“I’ve told your husband many things that are untrue. That detail in particular. If he’d known the truth, he would’ve set his marauders on me much sooner than this.”
“What happened?”
“Are you sure you want to know? It may make you see your husband in a different light.”
“I don’t see my husband in a good light as it is,” she said. “I’d like to know the truth. Please tell me.”
For a time they moved forward in silence. Catherine didn’t dare make a sound, in case it broke the spell. She wanted Benjamin to confide in her.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was hard as steel. “The evening of the uprising, there was tension throughout the island. I had recently turned ten, and Dolly had given me a set of watercolors for my birthday. I’d insisted on staying at Delcour’s estate that evening, instead of with my parents, so I could draw her. I’d done a fairly awful job of it, but I remember she showed me how to frame a face on the paper, and how to blend the colors.”
Catherine held her breath, hoping he’d continue.
“That night, after we’d all gone to bed, I was awakened by screaming and drumming. Dolly came running into my room, helped me dress and led me downstairs. When we stepped outside I saw fires on the hillside all around us, and we could hear chanting coming from the darkness.”
“You must’ve been terrified.”
“Delcour gathered up all the valuables he could find and put them in an enormous valise. We jumped into an open-top carriage with their driver and headed for the port.”
He stopped, and Catherine wished she could see his face. She could tell his jaw was clenched. She pulled closer to him and rested her head on his back.
“We were almost there when a group of slaves appeared in the road ahead. They were carrying axes and machetes. There was no time to turn around. Delcour cowered on the floor of the carriage, as low as he could get, clutching his valise as if it were a shield. Dolly ordered me out of the back of the carriage and told me to run to the jungle. I did, I ran as hard as I could, thinking she was right behind me. Once I made it to the underbrush by the side of the road, I stopped and looked back.”
“What did you see?”
“The men dragged Dolly and the driver out of the carriage, my sister was screaming and kicking. I heard her yelling my name and telling me to run, to get out of there.”
“Today, it must’ve been...” Catherine trailed off.
“Similar. Yes. Seeing that man attack you made me want to kill him.”
“What happened in Haiti? What did you do?”
“I couldn’t move. It was as if I were stuck in place. I wanted to run and save her, but I was so scared. I recognized several of the slaves, men that Delcour had beaten or whipped or otherwise made their lives hell. My sister was putting up a good fight, and as they were grappling with her, I noticed Delcour climb into the front seat, still clutching the valise. He opened it and tossed out everything he’d taken from the house, the candlesticks and the silver, into the mob. As they fought each other for the treasure, Delcour took the reins and disappeared down the road, toward the safety of the ships in the harbor.”
“My God. He abandoned both of you.”
“Are you surprised?” he asked.
“No. I’m not surprised at all.”
“I saw them bent over my sister, brandishing their axes and their machetes, and her screams died quickly, as did those of the driver. It was fast. And they moved toward the harbor after that, eager to find more victims.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I should’ve saved Dolly.”
“You were only ten years old. You were facing an angry mob. You were right to do what you did. Otherwise you would’ve been killed also.”
“There were times when I wished I were dead.”
“Today I’m glad you were alive and well. You saved me. You realize that, don’t you? And you saved Sophie.”
He didn’t answer.
“How ever did you get off the island?” she asked.
“I headed the opposite direction, to the east. I hid up in a tree by the shoreline, scanning the horizon. Whenever I slept I dreamt of Dolly’s cries and the paralyzed look in Delcour’s face. After two days I flagged down a passing ship. By then, I was filthy, hungry and exhausted, and I vowed I would avenge her death.”
“And you will. We have the ledger, you can give it to the magistrate and they’ll see what he’s done.”
“I wish I could see him hanged,” snarled Benjamin.
“Once the elite realize they’ve been tricked and the wine they’ve paid a lot of money for is swill, he may well be. The upper class doesn’t like to be made fools of.”
They turned down the driveway of the Mount and dismounted. Benjamin sat down on the front steps and leafed through the ledger while Catherine took the bottle of Yquem out of the satchel and placed it on the foyer table. She was tossing her cloak on a chair when she heard a strange sound come from Benjamin.
“What is it?” She stepped back toward him.
“It’s no good. Delcour knew what he was doing.” He pointed to the book. “The ledger was written in code. It’s useless.”
17
Catherine sat beside Benjamin and took the ledger. She leafed through the pages. There were two columns, with dates and numbers, along with several strange symbols.
“He was smart,” he said. “I’m fairly certain one column is a list of wines Delcour sold, and the other is what was actually imported. He didn’t write down the names. Instead he’s used these symbols. This is the proof I’ve been looking for, but only Delcour knows what it really means.”
“Perhaps we can figure it out,” she said.
Benjamin gave her a dubious look. “There’s no time. And to be honest, I can’t be bothered anymore.”
“There has to be a way.”
Benjamin shook his head.
Catherine stood. “Let’s go inside and clean you up.”
As they headed down
to the kitchen, Sophie charged in from the parlor. Freddie was close on her heels, bounding behind like an excited puppy dog.
“Freddie let me play the pianoforte.” Sophie grabbed Catherine’s hand. “I was good, wasn’t I, Freddie?”
Freddie smiled and laughed and Sophie seemed relaxed and happy.
“Can we stay here, Cathy?” she asked. “I counted and there are fourteen rooms, right Freddie?” Sophie received confirmation from Freddie and settled her gaze on Benjamin. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with Mr. Thomas?”
“A minor mishap,” said Benjamin, touching his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“Sophie, Mr. Thomas and I have to go down to the kitchen,” said Catherine. “Why don’t you and Freddie play something for us?”
Sophie and Freddie ran back into the parlor, and Catherine and Benjamin were only halfway down the stairs that led to the kitchen before a banging of dissonant chords reached their ears.
“You’ll have to get her some lessons,” said Benjamin.
“She’s eager, I suppose,” said Catherine.
Catherine sat him at the table while she found a bucket of water, some soap and a clean rag. The corner of the kitchen where the fire had started was charred, but Freddie had done a good job straightening up and cleaning the rest of the room.
Benjamin sat and Catherine gently washed the wound on his face. “It’s nasty, but I don’t think it will leave a scar.”
He pulled away from her touch. “That’ll do.”
Embarrassed, Catherine sat back on her heels and squeezed out the rag into the bucket.
“What do we do now about Mr. Delcour?” she asked.
Benjamin sighed. “It’s over. I don’t mind, really.
“But that means he gets away with it.”
“With what? Swindling a bunch of rich folks? Does that matter?”
“Yes, particularly when those are the people he most wanted to impress.”
“We don’t have much time to discuss this. Once Carpenter gets word of what we’ve done he’ll be sending out more of his men to find us, and this is the first place he’ll look. I’d say we have at the most a few hours. You and Sophie need to get to safety.”