Brace turned to Will and waited.
“I suppose I have to bow to you, now,” Will said in a voice echoing the shock of what he had just witnessed.
“Only if you feel the need,” Brace joked, still trying to recover from the impact of his father’s newest revelation.
“This also means,” Charles added, “as the Duke of Wadworth, and as a member of the Royal Family, your powers exceed those of the acting governor.”
Brace smiled. “I know.”
****
Elyse tried to keep herself awake and alert so that if the opportunity came, she would be able to escape, but the endless ride and the black expanse of the sky conspired against her. More often than not, she found herself nodding to sleep, her head dropping to her chest, her body moving with the horse without effort on her part.
At one point, through the light haze of sleep that tried to claim her, she heard the faint rumblings of what might be a thunderstorm far behind them.
While she dozed, a strange sensation stole upon her. The sound was like no thunder she had ever heard. There were no long ripples of sound followed by silence; the echoes were constant, though they varied in length.
Then she remembered the night with Brace at the voodoo ceremony. The drummers and the drums had fascinated her. “They use them to send messages, also,” Brace had said.
Forcing herself to sit up, Elyse listened intently to the sounds. As she did, they grew stronger. They were drums, not thunder. She looked at her captors warily. Her uncle was dozing as he rode, his face almost buried in his chest. She glanced at Hollingsby and froze. He was staring at her, a smile on his lips.
Turning quickly away from him, she looked at her aunt, who rode next to the guide. As she did, Elizabeth spoke.
“How much farther?” Her aunt’s voice was a shrill contrast to the quiet night.
The guide turned to her. “Three hours. Kingston be straight that way!” he said, pointing south.
Elizabeth followed the guide’s pointing finger toward the black sky. In that moment, the guide stiffened. The drumming had grown louder when a new drummer, one closer to them, relayed the message.
She watched the guide’s face turn puzzled, and then saw his eyes shift to her. She knew, somehow, Brace was behind the message—Brace and Lucea.
Her heart beat faster, and the hope that she had been holding on to grew stronger. She’d never given up hope, never doubted that somehow Brace would find a way to free her. Now she knew she must be ready for him, and for any opportunity that came.
The guide raised his hand, pulling his horse to a stop. “We wait here,” he said.
“No! We must go on!” Elizabeth ordered.
“The horses. They be tired now. We wait for light. The mountains, they be steep and mean without light. Too dangerous.” The guide dismounted and turned from the others.
“Carl!” Elizabeth shouted, waking her sleeping husband. Carl Sorrel blinked away the sleep and looked at his wife. “The guide wants to stop. We must keep going. Make him!”
Carl started down from his mount at the same time that Jeremy Hollingsby did. By the time the heavyset man reached the earth, Hollingsby was standing next to the guide.
“The horses are not tired,” Hollingsby stated. “What do you want—more money?”
The guide turned to him, fixing him with a dark-eyed stare. Without saying a word, he turned his back on them all.
Elyse watched every move, her body tense and waiting. Her captors surrounded the guide, glaring at him, their attention solely upon him. Her wrists were still bound and the rope around her waist held her to the saddle, so she maneuvered her horse with her knees, making him turn slowly.
“Make him go on!” Elizabeth screamed to both Carl and Hollingsby, her voice loud enough to drown out the drums for a brief moment.
Using that, Elyse kicked her horse’s flanks and sent him dashing madly forward, hoping that the darkness of the night, and the sparseness of the trees, would allow her to escape.
As the horse took off, she heard Hollingsby’s shout of alarm, but did not look back; rather, she leaned forward trying to keep her precarious balance.
“Get her!” Elizabeth shouted, turning to follow Elyse’s mad rush. Both Hollingsby and Carl Sorrel ran to their horses, mounted, and started after Elyse. As they did, Elizabeth watched them, hatred pouring from her eyes.
So intent was she on trying to see the direction in which Elyse had ridden off, that she neither heard nor saw the guide sneak away from them. The guide had heard the drums, and listened to their story. The high priestess, Lucea, had ordered him to slow their pace—to stall those he guided, but to make sure no harm came to the young woman. He had done as she had commanded. He paused for a moment to listen to the night sounds and heard the echo of horses racing madly in the night.
*****
Elyse pushed the horse as fast as she could make it go without being able to use her hands. Behind her came the sounds of pursuit.
The world was flashing by; the dark shapes of the trees looked like shadows of people watching her. Concentrating on the horse, she forced herself to keep up her courage. At one point, the horse stumbled, but it regained its balance quickly.
They were at the beginning of yet another mountain slope when the horse shied. Willing her legs to command the horse, she kicked his flank and sent him off again.
The slope was steep, but the horse fought its way upward. Behind her, the echoes of hoof beats grew louder. Once again, the horse stumbled, but this time it could not hold itself upright. The horse fell, and Elyse, tied to its saddle, fell with it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Slowly, Elyse regained consciousness. The first thing she heard was the incessantly shrill voice of her aunt screaming angrily at Hollingsby and her husband.
Carefully, she tested her body, moving first one leg and then the other. When she discovered there was no pain, she breathed more easily. Her arms were numb, but she made fists of her hands and, painfully, the circulation returned with waves of needles and pins. Then she tried to bring them from behind her.
They wouldn’t move. Still tied! Taking a deep breath and keeping her eyes closed, Elyse concentrated on her aunt’s voice. A moment later, she felt a thrill of excitement.
“It’s your fault!” Elizabeth shouted as she faced Hollingsby. “I should have known better than to trust you with the details. Your little blonde whore sold us out!”
“And you could have done better?” Hollingsby retorted. “All you were capable of doing was to spend your brother’s fortune in your dreams. We would still be in that disgusting inn if it hadn’t been for me, and Elyse would still be free at Devonairre, so don’t place the blame on me!”
“And what do you propose we do now?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Go to Kingston!”
“We don’t have a guide,” she reminded him.
“We don’t need one. He already said Kingston was three hours due south. The sun is starting to come up. That’s the only guide we need.”
Hearing this, Elyse slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on her side, facing away from them, toward the east. From behind a high mountain, she saw the first bands of the new day reaching out for the sky.
Help me, Brace, come for me, she called silently.
*****
Lucea stood still, her head tilted to one side. She, Charles, and Ann were on the veranda of Devonairre’s main house. They had been there since she and Charles returned from Lucea’s village, where Lucea gave the orders that sent the drums beating.
They spent the night sitting together, talking about times past, and of the present, as they waited to learn if the message had been successful.
Lucea held up her hand, and a slow smile spread across her face. “It is done. They are delayed. Their guide left them in the mountains.”
“Thank you, Lucea,” Ann said, taking the Obeah woman’s hand in hers.
“Is this not what friends are for?” she asked, looking at
the two people with whom she had shared so much of her life.
“I hope Brace will be in time, now,” Charles said.
“As I do, too,” Lucea replied. “I tried to see. Tried to speak with my spirits, but they remained mute on this. Perhaps it is for the best.” Lucea shrugged to emphasize her words. “You were right, Charles, not to tell Brace of his heritage until now.”
“He would have been doubly bitter,” Charles responded. “But now he can look at himself and see that what I did was done for him as much as for myself.”
Ann’s hand closed over her husband’s. “And for me.”
“Especially you,” Charles said.
“It is a shame,” Lucea began, looking at Charles and Ann, “that more people are not like you and Harlan Louden.”
“Eventually they must seek different ways.”
“They will not seek them. They are too content to maintain their lives as they are. No, different ways need to be forced upon them. It will happen soon.”
“Rebellion?” Charles asked.
“If full emancipation is not given soon, there will be no other choice than a repeat of what has happened twice before.”
Charles agreed. “We must be glad that Brace and Elyse are not of the mold of the others.” Lucea smiled again. “No, they could never be like them. Never.”
*****
“You can’t get away with this!” Elyse challenged as they descended along the last mountain slope. Kingston, spread out below them, was the largest pocket of civilization on Jamaica.
“But we have, my dear,” Hollingsby stated. He rode next to Elyse, as he had been since morning. His eyes were constantly on her, never giving her a chance to make another attempt at escape.
She looked past him, to her aunt. “Not yet, Elizabeth!” Her voice was loud and piercing. “I have been legally declared Lady Louden. I have been given full control of my family’s properties.”
“Only for a short time longer,” Elizabeth replied without bothering to look at her niece. With the coming of the sun, and seeing that the way to Kingston was indeed clear, her spirits had recovered. Within her twisted mind, Elizabeth was savoring the riches denied her for too long.
An hour and a half later—Elyse thought it to be close to nine in the morning—they reached the very outskirts of Kingston and the four riders stopped. Elyse looked at their disheveled, dirty clothing, and their greed-filled eyes.
“We must skirt the town,” Hollingsby cautioned.
“Yes,” Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “The less people see of us, the better. When we reach the inn, we’ll send a message to that pompous acting governor that we must have our hearing before noon.”
“He’s already had a taste of our gold. I don’t think he’ll be a problem,” Carl ventured with a quick glance at his wife.
“Until the papers are signed, any number of problems might arise,” she stated, favoring him with a distant glare. Then she turned her hate-filled eyes on Elyse. “Shall we gag you, or will you keep still?”
“Gag me? Do you think you can parade a tied, gagged woman through the streets without anyone stopping you?”
“Gag her!” Elizabeth ordered.
“No,” Hollingsby interrupted. “I have a better idea.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “Your ideas never seem to reach fulfillment.”
“Spare me your sarcasm, bitch, I’m growing tired of it. Or have you not realized that without me, you will stay as poor as you are now?” Elizabeth started to respond, but stopped herself, her lips flattening into a tight line.
“That’s better. Elyse will stay here with Carl, hidden from sight. You and I will go to the inn. We’ll change there, get fresh clothing for your husband and Elyse, and then get a closed carriage to transport us to the governor. It should take no more than a few hours.”
“All right. Carl,” she said, her eyes narrowing on her husband. “Don’t let her get away, this time.”
Five minutes later, Elyse stood still, her hands bound behind her back again, her ankles secured by yet another piece of rope, watching her aunt and Hollingsby ride away. Her sense of doom grew stronger, as the thin and desperate thread of hope she held alive seemed to be dwindling by the minute.
*****
Brace stood at the bow of the Brittania, staring at earthquake-destroyed remains of Port Royal, once the proudest of Caribbean ports and the entrance to Kingston Harbor. They had been lying offshore since before sunrise, waiting for the full light of day so they could maneuver the Brittania safely into port.
Throughout the longest night of his life, Brace had come to terms with everything that had been mixing in his mind. The fact that his father had named him Duke of Wadworth, and by that act made him the head of his line, was only a small portion of what had been going through his head.
The reality of his new position in life was not his most overpowering concern. Elyse’s safety was. He hoped his mother and father were right in assuming he would be able to use his title to help Elyse.
Although he knew Kingston fairly well, he had no friends here and only a few acquaintances. Will knew more people, but they were merchants and seamen.
There would be no telling where the Sorrels would hide with Elyse until they brought her to the acting governor. Brace knew Albright only slightly, but the rumors about his dishonest dealings were common in Jamaica.
In the acting governor, Brace realized, the Sorrels had found a perfect ally.
“We’re getting under way now,” Will said as he joined Brace at the bow.
“Good.”
“Have you thought of our next step?”
“We must try to find her in town, or find the inn where they are staying. We need to know when they arrive in Kingston.”
“If the drums were successful, then they are not yet here.”
“If we’re too late,” Brace said as he gazed at Port Royal and the ships moored beyond it, “we’ll take whatever ship they are on.”
“You’d make me a pirate because of love?” Will asked, shaking his head.
Within Will’s gray eyes, Brace saw a spark flare. The intuition he’d felt when he first spoke to Will about Elyse returned. “You love her, don’t you?”
Will started to deny it, but then smiled. “I fell in love with her when we came from England. But I knew that I was not the man for her. I could see it in her eyes. But yes, I love her; I always will.”
“Enough to risk your life?”
“I’m already doing that, aren’t I? Just one thing,” Will said, his voice low and intense. “What?”
“My father was killed helping her. I want the people responsible.”
“You have my word.”
Will started away, but stopped after only half a dozen steps. “Brace…when this is over, if you don’t make her happy, royalty or no, you’ll answer to me.”
Brace didn’t respond, and Will did not expect him to. After another moment, Will went to the bridge and guided the Brittania into Kingston Harbor.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Elyse was silent for most of the time that she was alone with her uncle, but as the hour for her aunt’s return neared, she knew she had to try to regain her freedom.
“Why, Carl? Did you think I would throw you out of the estate? Did you think I wanted to live in Devon, rather than Jamaica?”
Carl looked at her, his small eyes raking across her face. His jowly cheeks vibrated when he shook his head. “What else would you have done?”
“Exactly what my father did. Leave you and Elizabeth in charge of our property in England. Send the funds to keep everything going.”
“Yes, you would dole out the money as did your father, one little coin at a time!”
“If you needed more, why didn’t you ask Father?”
“And beg him? Never!”
“You were part of our family. My father would not have considered it begging.”
“Oh, easy for you to say. You have all the money you need.”
; “Release me. Let me go and I’ll see that you have whatever money you want.”
“Really?” Carl asked, his eyes becoming unreadable.
“Yes,” Elyse promised, sensing a possible victory.
“Or would you run back to Devonairre and make sure the world knew what has happened?”
“I won’t do that if you release me.”
“Did you know my family’s lineage can be traced back a thousand years? Did you know that my title is of longer standing than your own? That my nobility ranks higher than your father’s ever did?”
“Please,” she whispered.
“That’s right, beg me to help you! I’ve been a slave to your family ever since I married your aunt. Your father made me feel as if I were a beggar looking for a handout. My wife married me because no one else would have her. She treats me like a stable hand. No! Damn you! I’ve waited too long to taste the sweetness of money again. And no one, not you, nor Hollingsby, not my cold wife will stop me now!” Elyse shivered at the insanity in Carl’s face, and knew nothing she could do would convince him to release her.
Blinking back tears of frustration, Elyse tried to think of another way out. All too soon, Elizabeth and Hollingsby returned.
When they stepped down from the carriage, Hollingsby’s clothing fresh and shining in the morning sun, her sense of revulsion threatened to make her sick.
Holding her breath, she stared angrily at his pockmarked face. If they win, I will escape or die before submitting to him.
“Time to dress, my dear,” Hollingsby said with a half-smile. His eyes locked on hers for a moment. “Can we trust you to cooperate?” He held out the dress.
Elyse looked from him to the dress, wondering absently where he had gotten it, for it was very similar to one from her wardrobe in England. She glanced at Elizabeth who was handing Carl his clothing.
“Yes,” she said, knowing this might be her last chance and that she had to take it.
Hollingsby motioned for her to turn around. When she did, he cut the ropes and freed her wrists. She turned to face him, rubbing her wrists gently with her hands.
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