Dark Before the Rising Sun

by Laurie McBain

  “Now tell me, how is it that you returned to England aboard this same ship you left Charles Town on? And why has it taken so long? Why did he take you aboard his ship in the first place? We had word from our man in Charles Town of some outrageous rumor being spread by a woman about your having gone aboard voluntarily. A lie, of course. And what of the captain? What was his name, Lucien?” the duchess demanded, her questions coming fast and to the point.

  “Dante Leighton, Mama,” Rhea told her.

  “Yes, that is it. A pirate, isn’t he? I trust he is locked up in Newgate?”

  “He did not have anything to do with my kidnapping from Camareigh,” Rhea said quickly, beginning to become worried lest her mother have Dante hanged before she could even make his acquaintance.

  “No, I realize that. I suppose your father has explained to you about that?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes meeting Lucien’s for confirmation.

  Rhea nodded, but still she found it incredible that her kidnapping had been part of an insane plot for revenge devised by her father’s cousin. Katherine, Lady Morpeth, who, along with her twin brother, Percy, had fled England nearly twenty years before, had returned to exact a horrible punishment against her most hated enemy—Lucien Dominick. She had blamed the duke for all the misfortune which had befallen her, including the untimely death of Percy in Venice.

  Rhea remembered with a shudder the woman who had so kindly given her a ride in her carriage that rainy afternoon when she and Francis and their cousins had discovered the abandoned puppies. That woman, whose face she had never seen, had been planning her revenge even then. The kidnapping had been just a part of her scheme to torment Lucien before claiming her final revenge, his death.

  Ultimately, she had failed, but not before she brought tragedy to Camareigh, and had murdered a harmless old man whose only crime had been remembering Lady Morpeth from the time when she and Percy had lived at Camareigh.

  “It must have been horrible for you when she sent those poems, baiting you about my whereabouts. And then to send you that piece of my hair and the ring from my finger, to prove that she had indeed kidnapped me. And that night, when she tried to kill you, Father,” Rhea said, for her father had told her of the terrible night when Kate walked the halls of Camareigh.

  “But it is over now,” the duchess said firmly, “and Kate will never be able to hurt us again. And now that you are safely returned to us, she has failed completely in her attempt to destroy our family. Let us forget about it, for it is in the past. Your father has told you about the reason behind the kidnapping, we will not speak of it again.” It was all still too painful, and for too many long, endless hours she had thought about Kate and how very close that madwoman had come to destroying everything.

  “You have not answered me about this man, this Dante Leighton,” the duchess said as she glanced between her husband and her daughter. Both the duke and Rhea remained silent, neither quite knowing how to begin. “Nor do I understand why the authorities have not come to see us about this. Surely the man will have to answer the charge of kidnapping Rhea from Charles Town?”

  “I am afraid, my dear, that it is not as simple a matter as we once thought. There are some other…factors which we must now take into consideration,” the duke said uncomfortably, for he sounded as if he were defending this Dante Leighton.

  “What do you mean, Lucien? Exactly what more do I need to know about this man Dante Leighton?” the duchess asked bluntly.

  “All the charges against him have been dropped.”

  “What!”

  “Yes, I felt a similar surprise myself upon hearing the news,” Lucien told her, unable to conceal a certain bitterness.

  “Mother,” Rhea said, meeting her father’s gaze only briefly, “it was due partly to my testimony that Dante is a free man. I was very ill when I went aboard the Sea Dragon in Charles Town, and although I would have liked to leave the ship there, I had no choice but to sail with them when they left Charles Town.”

  “Then I do not understand why the man is walking around free when he forced you to sail with him,” the duchess demanded.

  “But when we reached Antigua, I stayed aboard voluntarily,” Rhea explained, blushing slightly when she added softly, “I am in love with Dante Leighton, Mother.”

  It was only too painfully apparent that that was the last thing the duchess was expecting to hear. Still, though startled, she was not terribly concerned until she glanced up at Lucien, who seemed rather too interested in the creases in his coat sleeve. “What exactly are you trying to tell me?” she asked slowly, sensing there was more to come, and that she might not like what she was about to hear.

  “Mother, please, you must understand. I love Dante, and you will too when you meet him.”

  “He is here?” the duchess asked in amazement, glancing toward the door as if he might be lurking in the corner of her bedchamber.

  “No, he remained in London to settle his affairs. The crew of the Sea Dragon has disbanded, and they must divide the treasure,” Rhea explained as if it were all very simple. “Then Dante will come.”

  The duchess closed her eyes for a moment. “I think there is much here that I do not understand,” she said finally, opening her eyes to stare at her husband. “There is more, isn’t there? For I cannot see your accepting this man without good reason, Lucien. What is the reason?”

  “Believe me, Rina, I have not accepted him,” the duke said emphatically. “I have merely temporarily bowed to our daughter’s wishes.”

  “Mama, Dante Leighton is my husband,” Rhea told her with simple directness.

  The duchess remained silent for several moments. “Lucien?”

  “I am afraid it is the truth, my dear,” he answered abruptly, unable to mask his disapproval.

  “B-but it cannot be legal?”

  “They were wed in the Indies. In a church. Apparently everything is quite legal. Your son-in-law, Dante Leighton, saw to that,” Lucien added with a renewed feeling of frustration.

  “You are accepting this. Why?” the duchess demanded, unwilling to believe that her daughter could possibly be married, or that Lucien would accept such a mesalliance. Rhea Claire, married to a coarse, ill-bred sea captain? And despite what Rhea had said about being in love with the man, she couldn’t believe she actually meant it. “Rhea? Why? I do not understand.”

  “Mama, I am sorry. I did not wish to upset you, but you must try to understand. Once you meet Dante, I think you will see why I love him. Father thinks he seduced me, but he didn’t. Truly, he did not. I loved him almost from the beginning. He never harmed me in any way. In fact, if he had not insisted I stay aboard the Sea Dragon, then I most likely would have died. The ship’s steward nursed me back to health.”

  “The fact that you are wed to this miscreant is harm enough, my child. The man must be a fortune hunter. Well, he is mistaken if he thinks to get a tuppence from us,” the duchess vowed.

  “He was very hesitant to believe that I was the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Camareigh, Mama. And he is no fortune hunter. Dante is very wealthy. He does not need any money from my family, nor indeed would he accept any,” Rhea said proudly.

  “It is obvious to me that this man has taken advantage of our daughter in some invidious manner. Have you met the man, Lucien? And he is still alive?” she asked, incredulous when Lucien nodded, for if there was one thing Sabrina Dominick was, it was quick-tempered, and she would have wasted little time with amenities had she come face-to-face with this Dante Leighton.

  “Yes, I met him, along with most of the crew of the Sea Dragon. And if you are worried about Dante Leighton’s being snubbed by proper folk, then do so no longer, for he happens to be the Marquis of Jacqobi. No doubt that was what impressed the authorities. In fact, I knew his grandfather.”

  “Indeed? Well, I knew your grandmother, and that doesn’t mean I liked your cousin Kate an
y the more, or that she was any the more sterling of character because of that connection,” the duchess reminded him, her cheeks flushing with anger.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” the duke remembered with timely purpose. “There was a Scot aboard the Sea Dragon who sent his personal respects to you.”

  The duchess looked startled. “To me?”

  “Yes, it seems this Scotsman fought beside your grandfather at the Battle of Culloden and remembers you and Mary quite well. He particularly asked to be remembered to you,” the duke informed her, unable to resist teasing her with so strange a coincidence. “He very proudly told me it was his honor to protect any of MacDanavel’s kin.”

  The duchess was momentarily speechless, which gave Lucien the chance to say, “In fact, I met quite a few interesting characters from the Sea Dragon. It would seem as if our daughter made quite an impression on them.”

  “Well, she seems to have made quite an impression on this Dante Leighton too. Am I to believe that this man will be arriving here at Camareigh one of these fine days? And am I supposed to welcome him with open arms?” she demanded as she glanced between the two oddly silent people. “I still cannot believe that you would stand for this, Lucien. There is something else I do not know, isn’t there?”

  “My dear, I still have not accepted this marriage of Rhea’s, but for the moment there is nothing I can do. Rhea claims that she is in love with the man, and he made it quite clear that she would hate me if I harmed him—not that he seemed to think I could,” Lucien added, still offended by the man’s effrontery. “He very kindly explained that the only reason he spared my life instead of dueling with me was because I was Rhea’s father. A rather high opinion of himself is one of the finer points of his personality.”

  Sabrina closed her eyes. “My God, the arrogance. I am truly amazed at your restraint, Lucien. I would not have been so controlled in the face of the man’s insolence.”

  “I very nearly was not. I had every intention of seeing that our daughter was a widow by evening,” Lucien admitted. “And it was only because of her feelings that I did not kill him. Rhea has suffered too much already.”

  Glancing between them, the duchess knew she had been correct, and that there was something else. She waited for the last revelation.

  “Mama,” Rhea said softly, “I am with child.”

  The duchess stared helplessly at her daughter, her face growing pale. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Mama, are you ill?” Rhea asked, concerned that all the excitement had been too much.

  Sabrina shook her head. Meeting her daughter’s troubled gaze, she held out her arms. “Oh, my dearest child, I am so thankful to have you home, and yet I feel I have been blessed and cursed at the same time. You must give me the time to try to understand all that has happened to you,” she pleaded.

  “I know, Mama,” Rhea said, her voice muffled as she buried her face against the duchess’s unbound hair. “I was almost afraid to come home to Camareigh. I thought you might find me too changed. That you might find it hard to accept what has happened. That you wouldn’t love me as much and that—”

  “Oh, my dear, never fear that we will ever turn away from you. We shall always love you, no matter what has happened. We shall always be here,” the duchess reassured her, remembering all the times during Rhea’s childhood when she had held her in her arms and comforted her.

  Lucien and Sabrina exchanged glances across Rhea’s head. There would be much for all of them to accept if they were to resume their lives as a family again. And if that meant accepting Dante Leighton, then so it must be.

  Seven

  The more the merrier.

  —John Heywood

  For the first time since that tragic day a year earlier, the joyous sounds of unrestrained laughter drifted out of the private drawing room in the south wing of Camareigh. In the hearth, logs of maple and oak, scented with apple wood, were burning brightly, for darkness came early in fall and brought with it cold winds blowing out of the West Country.

  A spattering of rain blew against the tall, mullioned windows that framed the view of distant hills purpled by descending dusk. Soon the heavy, velvet hangings would be drawn, closing out the darkness, and countless candles would be lit, adding their brightness to the room.

  The flickering light from the fire was reflected in the silver of the tea service, which had been set up before the two women who sat together on the rose-colored silk sofa near the hearth. Rhea Claire glanced up from the cup she had just filled with the steaming dark brew and, under her mother’s smiling regard, handed her the brimming cup in its delicate china saucer.

  “This is certainly a welcome relief from Mrs. Taylor’s Special Treat,” the duchess remarked with a wry smile. “Although, now that I ponder the thought, I suspect that Rawley has doctored my daily dose more than once with a drop or two of rum. I have truly come to regret the day she accompanied us to Verrick House and acquainted herself with Mrs. Taylor.”

  “You really are feeling better, Mama?” Rhea asked, her eyes searching her mother’s pale face carefully. There was no sign of fever, and her mother hadn’t coughed in more than an hour.

  “I have not felt so well in nearly a year,” the duchess reassured her, and taking a sip of tea, she glanced around the room at the family. She knew she would find no contentment greater than this.

  Rhea followed her mother’s gaze, her own eyes resting for a moment on two golden heads. Her youngest brother and sister played together on the flowered carpet just beyond the tea table. Andrew seemed to have grown the more since she had been away, and his steps were less shaky as he toddled across the carpet toward her, his childish prattle alerting her to his intended destination: the tray with the buns, scones, and cakes.

  Arden, whose mouth bore the traces of the chocolate sponge cake her sticky fingers had just held, wouldn’t allow her twin to have anything she did not. Squealing, she crawled onto wobbly legs and teetered after him. But, unable to slow herself down when she lost her balance, she tumbled into him, knocking his short, chubby legs out from under him. His cry of surprise turned into a bellow of outrage when he realized what had happened and that the tray of sweets had been moved out of his reach.

  But his older brother Robin was there to soothe him. Taking a codlin tart, he broke it in two and handed each twin a half piece of the apple pastry. “That should keep them quiet for at least a few minutes,” he said with a pleased grin as silence descended on the pair.

  “I am afraid they are becoming cross. They missed their nap today, but there has been so much excitement, and I hated to exclude them,” the duchess said while eyeing the two, her hand hesitating near the bell pull. They might have to send for O’Casey, the twins’ nanny, very soon.

  “Robin seems to have silenced them,” Rhea said, thinking her brother had grown a foot taller since she had last seen him. He was thinner too, but his dark hair was just as curly and unruly, and the expression in his violet eyes just as mischievous. She wondered what pranks he’d been up to recently.

  “He hasn’t been himself since you were kidnapped, Rhea,” the duchess said, reading Rhea’s mind. “He has been so subdued, almost sullen. I think you have always been closer to him than anybody else. He’s been brokenhearted, and I really despaired of ever seeing the old Robin again.”

  “He does seem quieter, even troubled, but every so often I see that same look in his eyes, which means he has been up to something,” Rhea said. She’d been on the receiving end of too many of his pranks to rest easy now.

  “I think, however, that Francis has changed the most this past year,” Rhea remarked of her other brother, who, as firstborn son, was heir to Camareigh and the ancient dukedom. “I had never before realized that he bore such a startling resemblance to Father. The eyes are different, but there is a remarkable similarity in bone structure and in the way he carries himself.”

  “Ye
s,” the duchess agreed, thinking that Francis had matured into a handsome and dignified young man that past year. “Your father and I are very proud of both Francis and Robin. If it had not been for their timely interruption that day, well…” The duchess hesitated, trying not to relive the terror of seeing Lucien brought back to Camareigh, blood dripping from his coat sleeve.

  “Do not think of it, Mama,” Rhea urged. “Have you sent word to Uncle Richard and Sarah?”

  The duchess nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “Your father sent word immediately. Butterick picked one of the best riders in the stables. Thomas may be no bigger than a boy, but he has years of riding experience. If anyone can reach the Highlands within a week, then he can.”

  “I was so pleased to hear about Uncle Richard’s and Sarah’s daughter. Lady Dawn Ena Verrick. ’Tis a lovely name,” Rhea said, thinking of her own child, whether it would be a boy or a girl, and what name she and Dante would choose.

  Sabrina had not missed her uncertain yet wistful expression. She still found it difficult to believe that her daughter would soon be giving birth to their first grandchild. Sabrina glanced over to where Lucien was sitting talking with Francis. It seemed only yesterday that they had met, then wed, then named their firstborn child Rhea Claire. The duchess shook her head in dismay. The years were passing so quickly, yet Lucien seemed not to have changed. In her eyes he was still as handsome as he had been the first time she had seen him. Although he still possessed a haughty arrogance which some people mistook for coldness, he was a far more compassionate man today than he had been that first time she had crossed his path. Their life together at Camareigh had been blessed, and although the past year had brought its share of tragedy, all that was over now. The Dominick family had survived, and they would continue to do so for generations to come. The duchess did not need her sister Mary’s gift to know that for a certainty.

  The duchess glanced again at her daughter, wishing for her the same deep happiness that she had had in her marriage to Lucien. She could only hope that Dante Leighton was half the man Lucien was.