“Hmm.” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I feel I should ask you a few questions of a more personal nature.”
Her skin burned. Were these questions not already personal? “Of course.”
He must have sensed her anxiety, for his eyes somehow softened even more. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. I simply must know if my understanding of what you’re experiencing is correct.”
She nodded and he smiled. He motioned to his chest. “Are you having any tenderness here?”
Her breasts? Merciful heavens. Her voice refused to work so she nodded her answer.
He was silent a moment and she looked back to him. His forehead creased. “Have you missed your monthly?”
The question shoved her upright. She blinked. Come to think of it… “Aye, I suppose I have.” Her shoulders dropped. “What do you think that means?”
Nathaniel pushed up and sat back, a knowing, almost teasing-like smile lifting his features. He raised his hands as if she should know exactly what it meant.
Still, her mind was blank. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Wrong?” He leaned back in his chair, a grin widening his face. “I would not say anything is wrong, Anna.”
“But what is it?”
He sat straight, a kind sort of frown owning his expression. “You really do not know?”
Nerves bubbled and her voice escaped more pinched than she’d wished. “Nay, tell me.”
“’Tis very likely you are with child.”
Anna’s breath stilled as the words whirled around her, soft and beautiful like the scent of a spring bouquet that lay just beyond her grasp. “Nay, ’tis impossible.”
His smile vanished, replaced by a drawn concern. “You have not been intimate?”
Anna opened her mouth but any sound lodged in her throat. She shrunk back in her chair and cleared her throat to dislodge the embarrassment. “We have…but…”
“You have.” His statement held enough question to require confirmation.
Her face was surely crimson. “Aye.”
The mirth in Nathaniel’s kind face returned ten fold. “Then I do believe ’tis possible that you are not ill in the least. Rather, quite healthy indeed.”
“Nay, Dr. Smith. You do not understand. When I was young I was very ill. The doctors attested I would never have a child, and after ten years of marriage I never did, so you must understand that—”
“How long have you experienced these symptoms?”
She counted in her mind. “About a week.”
“And you’ve missed your monthly. Has that ever happened before?”
“Nay.”
He leaned forward once again and reached out, resting his hand over hers. “Then I do believe you have some very glad tidings to share with your husband.”
“You think it possible? Truly?” Her throat began to ache, but the thought was so precious she hardly wished to cradle it at all. If she allowed any hope…
Nathaniel’s angled features grew soft. “There is a very strong possibility that you are with child, Anna. It will be another month or two before you will know for certain, but I believe the chances lie in your favor.”
Her breath caught and she turned her face to hide the hot tears that flooded. “Forgive me.”
His kind grip tightened. “The Lord delights to give good gifts to His children. He wishes for you and William to have joy, Anna.”
She tugged a handkerchief from her pocket and dotted her eyes. Lord, could it be?
Nathaniel stood and she followed suit.
“I am pleased you came to see me,” he said, motioning to the back door. “I hope you will feel comfortable to confide in me at any time.”
“Of course.” Looking up, Anna’s gratitude nearly caused her to reach out and embrace him for his goodness. Kitty was a fortunate woman indeed. As was she.
She walked through the parlor to the back. “I wish I could express the depth of my gratitude. I feel foolish for not discerning such a thing on my own.”
“Nonsense. ’Tis understandable, indeed.” He opened the door, that same congenial smile on his mouth, the same generous depth in his tone. “I do believe in time, we shall be offering our congratulations to you and your husband as you have for Kitty and me.”
She nodded her thanks and stepped from the house. “You will keep the news to yourself? I should like to be the one to tell William.”
He gave a quick bob of the head. “You have my complete silence.”
She turned toward the road with a grin that reached through her middle. Then, as if the knowledge were melting the frost of disbelief from her mind, Anna’s heart burst. Striding home, eyes wide, breath quick and shallow, she half-laughed, half-cried.
With child? She could hardly think the words without weeping.
The emotions spilling from her eyes weighed at her feet and she stopped. Closing her eyes, she prayed. Joy, so rich and deep she felt it clean through her soul as the tears spilled over her cheeks. She clasped her hands in prayer at her chest. How is it done, Lord? I am unworthy of such goodness.
The winter sun warmed against her cold cheeks and she opened her eyes, her gaze landing on her ring.
Forget not He who loveth thee.
~~~
Paul marched through the snow-flecked center of town, the mid-morning sun shining bright above him, his limbs pulsing with ravenous need. Warren had expounded their good fortune this very morning—only an hour past—that he had found the man they sought. It hardly seemed real, but it was. He will be mine. After all this time, Donaldson would finally be brought to justice.
Passing the last shop and heading toward the grist mill, Paul increased his pace. Everyone believed Donaldson was so virtuous. ’Twas almost blasphemy, when the man worked against the very thing he swore to uphold. Was not following through with the old man’s request to take his daughter away first not proof that he himself was more righteous than the benevolent Donaldson?
He reached for the gun beneath his colonial coat. The urge to shoot at first sight of his prey twitched in his fingers.
Turning up the road to the right, he paused, a motionless figure in the road, her back turned to him. As he neared the stranger’s visage found place in his memory and he stilled.
Dark hair, petite frame.
His curiosity pricked. It must be her. But why was she alone?
Before he could retreat from the thought, he spoke. “Miss Whitehead?”
The woman straightened and turned, the color draining from her face when she saw him.
He smiled. Excellent.
~~~
The clock on the mantel struck noon and William’s shoulders cramped. Anna should have returned home by now.
He glanced out the front window before returning to the table where his pistol rested. Snatching it up, he scorned the anxieties that bit at his heels and checked again to be sure it was loaded. Warren would be here any moment. Had he done as planned?
Inform Paul you have found your daughter and the man who took her, William had said. Propose that you desire to rescue your daughter and do not wish for me to follow you, and for this you will require his aid. Have him hide in the wood and wait for the moment you take Anna away.
A rustle outside stole William from his memory. Again, he went to the window, this time, gripping his pistol. Blast. ’Twas no one. He stood, staring past the garden into the wood. Was Paul there now? Would he wait as planned? William stepped to the fire where he checked on the lead he heated to mold more balls for his gun. Paul wished an easy fight, thus waiting would be to his advantage. But such knowledge did little to temper the rising heat in William’s body. Perhaps he would find others and bring them with him? Perhaps his rage would drive him to disregard their plan and come after William before Warren could take Anna to safety.
Bowing his head, William rubbed his temples, praying through the fog of fear that threatened to choke him. Protect Anna, Lo
rd, I pray thee.
The latch to the door clicked and William whirled.
“William?” a voice whispered.
Exhaling a plume of tension, William went to the door. “Come in, Warren.”
The man entered, removing his hat. “I peered in the window and saw only you. You said to enter so—”
“You did well,” William said, glancing left and right in the yard before shutting the door. “Is he here?”
He nodded. “Aye, though I do not know precisely. I told him where to go but he was still at the tavern when I left.”
A fear he’d harbored since the moment he’d presented Warren with his plan bolted William into action. He turned and hurried to the fire, plucking the tongs from the table and removing the small pot of molten lead from the fire. “I must be prepared. Something tells me he will not come alone.” He poured the liquid into the mold, cursing himself for not having done this the night before, instead of allowing himself the pleasure of blissful sleep next to Anna’s warm and perfectly feminine frame.
Warren neared and knelt beside him. “Who might he bring with him?”
Glancing up, William noted the worry that folded into the creases around Warren’s wise eyes. “He wishes me dead for defecting.” He grabbed his mallet and tapped the bullet into a bowl already half full. “Bringing others would mean not only an easier capture, but witnesses of my death.”
“Tell her.” Warren gripped his shoulder, halting William’s arm. “Anna is no simpleton nor is she fearful. She will understand why you have done this, I am sure. We must tell her what is coming. She could run to the safety of town—if you do not wish to implicate your friends—and I could help you fight—”
“Nay.” William held the man’s stare. “I refuse to put anyone at risk.” Warren removed his hand and William continued with pouring another stream of lead into the mold. “I will not rest until this is ended—at my hand alone.” He kept the next thought in his teeth. Truly, he craved the appeasement that ’twas he alone who had brought an end to his predator’s hunt.
Warren stood. “Where is she?”
William spoke but kept his attention on his task. He grabbed the mallet and tapped another ball free. “She should have returned a quarter hour past.” He poured the lead for another while the stab of worry cut deeper. Why hadn’t she returned? “I insisted she see the physician. She hasn’t been well.”
“She is ill?”
William looked up from his crouched position. The sincerity in Warren’s strong features, the concern in his voice, fitted beside William’s. A father and a husband both pained with concern over a woman they loved.
“I do not know.” He tapped out the last ball and returned the lead to the fire before grabbing the bowl of newly formed bullets and setting them on the table. “I pray she will return with an answer.”
“I fear God does not hear your prayers, Henry.”
William stilled at the sound of the voice, though his muscles flicked to the ready. He shot his gaze to the door then to Warren whose stance showed he too was prepared to fight.
“I told you to wait,” Warren growled.
Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, Paul shook his head, clicking his tongue in mocking disapproval. “Nay, old man. You told me I could have him only when you had taken the girl to safety. But how can she be safe when she walks the road alone.” He motioned as one would to coax a timid child, a smile so relaxed it poured rage down William’s spine.
Anna entered, her face white, her hands clutched at her middle.
Rushing forward, William reached for her, but Paul yanked her back with a flash of the devil in his eyes. “No, no. You should not touch her. How can a woman trust a man who has lied to her? You must make amends, Henry.”
“I will not have you playing games.” Warren spoke calm, but a roar of warning rumbled in his tone. He stepped forward. “Let me take her away and you two men can finish what you began.”
Laughing, Paul tilted his head back. “Nay, this has all become far too amusing.” He quieted and struck William with a glare. “I should like us all to hear this confession. Tell her Henry, who you really are and what you have done.”
Anna quivered, her complexion slipping to gray as she looked from Warren back to William.
This could not be happening. Inside, a call to battle drummed, but William reserved the urge to attack while Anna stood between him and the man who would have him dead. He kept his eyes on Paul but spoke to Warren. “Take her away. Now.”
Warren stepped forward and Anna jumped back with a strained cry. “No!”
Warren stopped and glanced to William, tension tightening his mouth. The unvoiced question of how to proceed shouted in his eyes.
“Trust me, Anna. Go with him.” The command came out with more bite than he’d wished. “I will not have you—”
“You will not have her learn the truth of you, is that it, Henry?” Paul pushed from the door and stepped behind Anna, inclining his head to her ear. “He is not what you believe.” He stood and spoke louder. “Will you tell her or shall I?”
William’s limbs turned to stone at the sight of Anna’s quivering hands and white lips. Groaning under the weight of his deceit, he opened his mouth but Paul’s bellowing sound emerged first.
“He, my dear, is none other than the honorable Captain Henry Donaldson.” Paul looked to him, then Anna, a surprised grin matching the laugh that followed. “How remarkable, is it not? That the very man you had wished to find made you his bride.” He tisked and shook his head. “But I must believe he did not tell you of his past. No…for the name he offered is not his at all.” Paul stalked forward, his wicked stare trained on William. “Henry Donaldson. A man able to deceive many into believing he is good.”
Fists quivering from the exertion not to employ them, William growled his reply. “That’s enough, Paul—”
“It is not enough!” Paul yelled, his face crimson and his arms rigid as the charade of civility vanished. He snarled and spit when he spoke. “You are a traitor! You are not worthy to live!”
He reached for his weapon, but William drew his first. Warren raced to Anna, grabbing her around the shoulders and pulling her away. The men stood motionless, pistols aimed, hatred already warring in their eyes.
“William!”
Anna’s cry pulled William’s vision toward her and worry stole a measure of his strength, but Warren tugged her nearer to the safety of the door. “Come child, you are not safe.”
“Nay! I will not!” She struggled against him. “Let me go.”
“Anna, please!” William kept both his stare and his weapon on Paul while his soul reached for the woman he loved. “Go with him now.”
“Yes, go with him,” Paul said. “You would not wish to see this traitor trembling in fear, begging for his life like a child.”
Child.
“You!” Rage jolted through him, his outstretched arm rigid as iron. “You killed that boy!”
“I did what had to be done! More rebels only means more war and suffering for us all.” Gun still pointed at William’s chest, Paul’s face twitched and he yanked at his shirt, revealing a circular red scar. “You did this to me!” he yelled, his face contorted. Clamping his jaw shut he inhaled through his nose, but the even tone belied the undercurrent of loathing. He released his shirt. “As you see, I cannot be killed. But you can.”
William’s frame went solid when Paul’s finger reached for the trigger. Time slowed, like the strained motion of a disquieting dream. Anna pulled from Warren’s grasp and hurled herself against Paul as both guns exploded the same instant. With a pained cry she gripped her side and William yelled for her. Dropping his weapon, he lunged for Anna as she tumbled backward, hitting her head against the bench and crumpling to the ground.
The room faded around him, all commotion no more than a tinkling bell compared to the blaring shock that numbed him. Darkness shrouded all but her motionless form and the blood that stained her bodice. What have I d
one? Dear God, what have I done?
Paul charged through the gun smoke and the speed of life returned like the shot of a cannon. He tackled William away from his wife and into the ground. A blow to his jaw shot a blinding pain through William’s head. With a giant heave, William thrust Paul to the side and scrambled to his feet, vaguely aware that Warren knelt beside Anna.
Paul sneered and pushed to standing. He flicked aside his coat and gripped the dagger at his hip. “I enjoy a bit of sparring.” He snapped the weapon forward. “Let us finish this.”
William lunged and grabbed Paul’s wrist, gripping and twisting. Paul’s eyes blackened, his hot breath heaving as he struggled against William’s resistance.
“If she dies, I will make you pay with your life.” With a heave strengthened by hate, William shoved Paul back.
From behind, Warren’s voice cracked through the air. “Dear God, I fear she is dead!”
No! William’s vision wavered. Lord, she cannot be gone from me!
“You have killed your wife!” Paul laughed, straightening. “How that must pain you. Allow me to end your suffering.”
He spun the dagger in his hand and lunged. William dodged as a flash and boom came from behind. Paul’s features went flat and he fell at William’s feet. William stumbled back, staring at the body of his enemy. He turned and stilled. Arm outstretched, face ticking, Warren lowered the still smoking weapon.
A breath of relief followed by a wind of pain stormed through William. He rushed to Anna’s side, his heart clutching when his hand brushed against the blood that dripped on the floor. His throat tore with emotion. She had risked her life for him—his own bullet doing the work against her that his enemy’s could not against him. He pressed his trembling fingers against her neck. Nothing.
Panic battered like a dominant foe. “Are you sure she is dead?”
Warren crouched beside him, his own voice uneven. “I could not feel a pulse.”
Trying his fingers at another spot, William exhaled a choppy breath when a small throb beat against his touch. “She lives.” He scooped her into his arms and raced through the open door.
So Rare a Gift (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 3) Page 32