The Secret Life of Lady Evangeline

by Jan Davis Warren

  “I will tell him.” Retreating footsteps echoed down the hall.

  The thought of food made her lightheaded. The last pieces of dried beef had sustained her for a while, but her stomach ached for more. She needed to keep up her strength for Sarah’s sake.

  Heavy treads stopped outside her cabin. The sound of nails being pulled out of the frame followed with the door swinging open. Three men lined the narrow hall. The large man holding a heavy iron crowbar stood closest. With an anxious glance at Evangeline, he stepped aside, and the captain filled the doorway.

  “You dare defy me?” He took one step inside, his voice deep and intense. “Because you are distraught, I will let that pass…this time only.” A frown furrowed his brow, and his dark eyes flashed with anger. He waved another man inside. This one held a tray covered with a linen cloth. With a nervous glance, the servant sidestepped Evangeline and placed the tray on a small table with ornate edges, which was bolted to the floor to keep it from shifting on a moving ship. The servant then lit the two hanging lanterns in the small room before escaping into the hall.

  “Sit. Eat. Then we talk.” The captain leaned against the doorway and motioned toward the table.

  Evangeline was too hungry to argue. Facing the Spaniard, she lifted the cloth. Crusty bread that had been seasoned and brushed with olive oil teased her senses. After a tentative smell, she took a bite. It tasted surprisingly good. She glanced up at the captain and saw a smile touch the corners of his mouth. He had won this battle. Let him. She needed strength and he had foolishly supplied what she needed to defeat him.

  The wine he supplied was good, but not supreme. She could live with good, although it had a bitter aftertaste. Another sip to wash down the bread made her smile with appreciation.

  “I see you like our Spanish wine, yes?” His tone was full of pride. “My wife’s family owns a vineyard where this was made.”

  “It’s not as good as French wines, but it’s palatable.” She dabbed her lips with the linen napkin that accompanied her meal.

  “The French, ha.” He spit on the ground and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his blouse. “They do not hold a candle to our wine, women, or warriors.”

  At the mention of warriors, Evangeline swung her gaze to her sword wedged against the bunk just out of arm’s reach. The captain had edged forward during their conversation and now lunged for her weapon. Evangeline reached it first and pointed it at the captain’s chest.

  “I shall retain this.” She watched the captain hesitate. By his expression of alarm there was no doubt he had been told of her expertise with the weapon.

  “Senora, you do not need this.” He gave a dismissive wave at the deadly blade but backed toward the open door. “You are safe under my protection. I have given orders. No one on this ship will dare harm you or the child.”

  “My child.” She took a battle stance with the sword raised and stepped toward him, all thought of food gone. “My husband, Lord Henry Stanton, favored cousin of the King of England, will come for us as surely as the sun rises. God and England will avenge any who stand in our way to protect our daughter.”

  “We will speak later, after you have rested.” The door slammed followed by mumbled voices too low to understand. Footsteps receded, but the shadow under the door revealed the presence of a guard.

  Fine. She had no place to go at the moment. She checked on her still sleeping daughter. Assured that Sarah was safe and comfortable, she went back to finish her interrupted meal, but kept the sword close by her side. Stomach satisfied for now, she took one last sip of wine. The bitter aftertaste kept her from enjoying it.

  Rolling her shoulders, she fought a sudden heaviness in her limbs. She must remain alert, rested, and fed to be ready to fight when the time came.

  She stretched and paced a few steps, but the effort became too much. The sword slipped from her fingers. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. Anger burned in her gut with the realization that the tainted wine must had been drugged. Sarah’s undisturbed sleep was no doubt also a product of that sleeping draught. With determined effort, she made it to the bunk to lie beside her daughter then fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Henry paced the deck when not searching the horizon for the Spanish ship.

  “Lord Stanton, please. Ye must eat and rest. I have men who will alert us when they spot our adversary.” The ship’s captain motioned him inside the cabin.

  A quick glance up at the crow’s nest then down at the bow of the ship, where men scanned the vast ocean, even one with a spy glass, confirmed the captain’s claim. A wave of hunger pushed Henry to precede the captain to his quarters, where a table was set with crusty bread, dried meat and ale to drink. He collapsed onto a chair, weak in the knees. His body needed nourishment if he wanted to be fit for the fight that was surely coming when they caught up to the man who kidnapped his wife and child.

  Commander Garrett joined the captain and Henry moments later.

  “The man we captured is the Spanish ship’s first mate. He’d been in the tavern when his captain sailed without him. After a bit of persuading, he told us the captain’s destination.” Commander Garrett pressed his finger on a spot on the map which was laid out on a long shelf against the wall. He found his place at the table, filled his plate and dug into his meal with the zeal of a hungry man. “I also questioned the one-eyed man with the information you gave us.”

  “And learned what?” Henry asked.

  “He confirmed that Lady Millicent had hired him to kill Lady Evangeline and the child.” He paused to take a sip of ale. “She will hang for what she’s done.”

  Confirmation was a harsh reality. Millicent believed she had gotten away with Evangeline’s murder and the deaths of her servants and guards. Then, when she failed to get him to bed her or take her as his wife in Evangeline’s place, she’d hired the brigand again, this time to kill little Sarah.

  Henry fumed silently as the commander continued.

  “Apparently the brigand’s not ashamed of his profession, for there was no remorse as he told of his evil deeds. He bragged how he had gotten away with murder and how he would yet escape the executioner’s ax.”

  “That is not possible.” Henry stood and paced the small room.

  “If he believes he will escape, he is a fool.” The commander turned to the captain. “How long before we overtake the Spaniard?”

  * * *

  “We left the bulk of our cargo on the dock, which has lightened our load. That should make us faster than the more heavily burdened Spanish ship. Even though they have a head start, with a steady wind at our back, we should catch up by early morn.” The captain smiled with assurance. “They will not escape.”

  Henry took his seat and resumed eating. The food he forced himself to consume could have been sawdust, though the other men at the table appeared to appreciate it. Worry kept him from tasting even the hearty ale he used to wash down his meal, but he could feel strength return to his limbs.

  “Sorry, we did not arrive in time, Lord Stanton. We followed as soon as we heard of your mission to save your daughter.” The commander wiped his mouth and leaned back. “I left behind my second in command, Captain Armand Degraff, who is familiar with the area, and several good men who will report to Lord Brighton and aid him as needed to deal with the imposter who kept him hostage.”

  “Good.” Henry took a breath, relieved that he would have some good news to share with Evangeline when he saw her.

  A frantic knock came on the door. The servant frowned and stepped out. Anxious whispers from outside caused the captain to rise, excuse himself, and also exit the room. Moments later he returned, his brow furrowed.

  “We have a storm squall gathering to the north and headed our way.” He glanced at the half-eaten meal and his guests. “I suggest you stay here, Lord Stanton, and get some rest.” The captain motioned for the king’s guard to come with him. “Commander, you and your men will be safer below, strapped to your bunks. It will be rough seas until it
passes.” He motioned for the guard to follow the sailor waiting in the hall. The captain turned and faced Henry. “The Spaniard is a ruthless man. Some say he was once a black-hearted pirate who captured a merchant’s ship. The story goes that he fell in love with the captain’s lovely daughter, who was on board the vessel. The short of it, they married, and she made an honest man of him. Now he be the captain of the very same merchant ship he once captured. As a pirate, he’s experienced sailing rough seas. Yur family should be safe with him. Try naught to worry. We will catch him when this storm blows o’er.” With that he shut the door and left.

  A servant came in to secure the cabin by clearing away the food and drink and gathering the dirty dishes. His anxiousness was evident in his worried features and hurried actions. His refusal to make eye contact with Henry and the man’s mumbled prayers to the saints meant the young sailor was expecting the worst.

  When the servant left, Henry prayed also.

  “God, please keep my family safe.” His selfish request burned his conscience. “And protect these brave men and the ship as they fight the storm. Use the wind to speed us toward Evangeline and Sarah.” He stretched out on the captain’s bunk and secured the three straps at his foot, chest and middle to keep him from rolling out.

  Would life ever be peaceful again? His last thought before sleep claimed him.

  Chapter 19

  Evangeline awoke to the cabin door closing and a vague memory or dream of a violent storm. A quick glance at Sarah found her awake and staring back, a watery fist stuck in her mouth. The toddler flung out her wet hand and touched Evangeline’s face, smiled and cooed, “Mum, Mum, Mum.”

  She gathered her daughter into a tight hug, tears of joy running down Evangeline’s cheeks. “Yes. I am your mum, sweet baby.”

  Loud voices erupted outside the cabin door. Instantly, the chill of danger pricked her neck. She pushed Sarah behind her, sat up, and swung her legs over the side. The room swam, and she braced her hands on either side to keep from tumbling to the deck. The grogginess and pounding head were the aftereffects of the drug put in the wine to put her and Sarah to sleep.

  Panic thrummed against her chest as men conversed outside the cabin door. The cabin was disheveled. The few items that had not been secured were strung about the small space. Besides a violent squall in the night, one sweeping glance confirmed she’d had a visitor while she was sleeping. The dishes from her meal were missing, as was her sword which, she had tucked next to her side. Patting the bulge in her waist band confirmed the intruder had not found the knife she kept hidden in her sash or the one in the heavy cross she wore.

  “God will provide and help us when the time comes.” She smiled and patted her daughter’s cheek. No point in worrying about something she could not change. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, allowing the frustration to depart. Her focus needed to be on Sarah. The movement of the ship was minimal. Perhaps the sails were down. The sounds of pounding and saws above deck probably meant the crew was making repairs from the storm. Hopefully nothing serious had broken. All they had to do is keep the boat afloat until Henry arrived to get her and Sarah.

  The dizziness almost gone, she drew another cleansing breath and stretched to release the kink in her back. A quick scan of the small room drew her attention to a fancy gown which had been left draped across one of the chairs.

  Gathering Sarah and resting the babe on her hip, she walked to the garment. A bit flashy for her simple taste, yet it was crafted of fine silk. The blue shade was the color of delphiniums like her mother had loved and planted in her flower garden.

  Evangeline stroked the soft material and sighed. It had been a very long time since she’d worn silk against her skin. After setting Sarah on the floor, she picked up the dress and pressed it against her body. It should fit. The style was high-waisted, but the bodice was cut too low for her comfort. She swirled the cloud of silk in a swishing motion that sent the little girl into a fit of giggles.

  “You like this, too?” She knelt down when Sarah pulled up using the dress, fisted the material, and tugged. With gentle patience, Evangeline untangled Sarah’s fingers from the delicate fabric, then cuddled the toddler.

  “Your father will make sure you have many such fine dresses as you grow up.” With a quick prayer for Henry’s safety, she stood and placed the garment out of Sarah’s reach. Smoothing the few wrinkles, her hand dislodged a piece of paper. Evangeline stooped and pick it up from the floor.

  Capitan demands you discard the rags you have on and wear this to join him. He has food for you and the child. If you refuse, you will both go hungry.

  The note had been carefully penned in English.

  Fury burned within Evangeline at the very thought of the pirate giving her orders. She would rather starve than comply. Fuming, she paced the small space disparaging the note and the man who sent it.

  A demanding squawk came from Sarah, who stood on wobbly legs hugging the bunk, trying to maintain her balance with the moving ship. She was done playing and wanted to eat again.

  The goat’s milk was nearly gone. There was not enough to satisfy her little tummy. For that reason alone, Evangeline would submit to the captain’s threat.

  As little Sarah’s fussing built to a demanding wail, Evangeline removed her tunic and pants, then tugged on the undergarments left on the other chair and finally the dress. They did fit, though the dress was cut too low and fit snug across the top, revealing way too much cleavage. Tugging the garment higher didn’t help.

  At a tap at the door, she hastily tore a strip of lace from the hem of the petticoat and stuffed it in the offending gap. Hopefully it would remain in place long enough to get through the meal.

  “Senora, Capitan awaits. Are you…? Stop! You cannot be down here.” The man’s voice raised in alarm.

  Angry shouts erupted into a loud altercation of men fighting with the distinct sounds of flesh pounding against flesh and bodies hitting against the walls.

  She gathered Sarah, quickly wrapped her in a blanket, and shoved her in the small closet at the end of the bunk. The child howled when Evangeline closed the door, which broke her heart, but she needed Sarah to be safe while she dealt with whoever fought to get inside her cabin. She grabbed her knife from the table where she had laid it while she dressed and hid it in the folds of the dress at her side as the cabin door slammed open hitting the wall.

  “You killed my brother!” The man with the Christmas ham-sized arms filled the doorway. The guard lay bleeding on the deck behind him. Fury lit the standing man’s features, and in his fist he held a knife with curved blade crimson with blood. He advanced toward Evangeline. Bloodshot eyes narrowed with intent, and the strong smell of ale carried on his breath.

  “Mum, mum, mum.” Sarah sorrowful plea was like a splash of cold water.

  Fierceness born of a mother’s love strengthened her limbs. Her thoughts cleared.

  “Your brother fell upon my sword and killed himself.” Evangeline’s voice came out a husky growl. She stood her ground, her mind filled with lessons learned as a teen for such a time as this. Her dress would restrict her movements. If only he had appeared while she still wore the tunic and pants she would be more agile and less encumbered. She gripped the hilt of the knife, freed it from its hiding place and tensed, readied for her moment.

  Loud voices and heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.

  “Stop, Raoul! You harm this woman or child, and I will personally hang you upside down from the yardarm and strip the flesh off your miserable body, inch by agonizing inch.”

  Raoul hesitated, the fury in his eyes changing to doubt. “She killed my brother.”

  “Miguel killed himself when he charged her. She turned and raised her sword, and he ran into it.” The captain stepped inside the already cramped space. “Drop your weapon and live.”

  Evangeline eyed the madman and pressed back to the end of the bunk, prepared to defend the closet where her daughter wailed.

  The captain
lunged forward, knocking the knife from Raoul’s hand with a loud crack of breaking bones. Two sailors pressed inside and wrestled the crazed man. Even with a broken arm, the man fought against his captors, breaking the table and chairs in their battle. Evangeline kept out of the fray by pressing back against the closet.

  More well-placed blows by the captain as the sailors cornered the vengeful brother rendered him bleeding about the face and neck and nearly unconscious.

  “I will kill you all,” he bellowed as he was dragged up the stairs and out on deck. His angry screams turned to pleas, each word echoed through the corridor. “No! No!”

  A loud splash, then silence.

  “There. No worry. He will no harm you or the child.” He shrugged as if that was the only just punishment for such a crime. “No one defies my orders and lives.” The tone of the warning was directed at Evangeline. The captain smiled showing one gold tooth. He pushed aside the broken furniture to allow Evangeline a path through the debris and reached out to her.

  Evangeline ignored his hand and retrieved her crying daughter, rocking her in her arms.

  “Good. You please me by wearing the dress.” He smiled and gestured to the open door. “We shall eat now.”

  “Capitan! We are being pursued.” A sailor skidded to a halt before them, his face flushed and his breath coming in short gasps. “It is the Sea Hawk. She is gaining and will be within grappling range within the hour.”

  “I know the captain of the Sea Hawk. He is a good man. Why would he be pursuing me?” He turned and stared at Evangeline. “Tell me the truth. Was that man fighting on the docks your husband?”

  “Yes. Lord Henry Stanton.” She cradled her daughter on her hip while hiding her knife behind her. “I told you. That brigand stole my daughter. Would you allow someone to kidnap your only child and get away?”

  “He assured me the child was an orphan of royal blood without mother or father to care for her upbringing. He warned me to leave immediately, for those pursuing him meant to harm the child.” The captain searched her face then rubbed his chin. Even the slightest hesitation in the stern pirate’s countenance gave Evangeline hope for a peaceful end.