Lovestorm (13 page)

She sighed again, hoping she was not going too far with her performance. “A pity to mar his skin with scars. You don't suppose it will lower his worth? Of course, if he dies . . .″

“Hmm. I hadn't thought of that. Hammond! Hammond!” the captain called. “Kindly escort Lady Elizabeth to my cabin. I'll be just a moment.”

As Hammond led her away, Elizabeth heard Douglas rescinding the orders to have Cain lashed.

“See that his wounds are properly treated,” the captain commanded. “He's worth more alive than any two of you, and I mean to collect my fee in gold coin.”

 

In the darkest hour of the night, Elizabeth crept from her cabin and made her way down the narrow passageway. Shielded under her cloak was a tiny lamp, but she dared not risk using its light until she had reached the lowest level of the ship. Looped around her left wrist was the string of a bag containing a bottle of wine and roast duck she had stolen from the captain's cabin earlier.

Loud snores came from the Pierces' cabin, causing Elizabeth to wonder which one was the culprit, Maude or Samuel. The last room off the passageway, the quarters Robert Hammond shared with the first and second officer, was quiet. Just beyond that was a hatch, and a steep staircase leading down.

Elizabeth forced back her fear and descended into the dank, evil-smelling blackness, one step at a time. If this ship was laid out in the same way as the
Speedwell
that had carried her to Virginia, she expected to find Cain in the hold on the starboard side. A groom had taken her below to see to the well-being of her horse on the outward voyage. This ship carried no animals, but if it had, that's where they would be. A hatchway on the deck led down to the hold, but that would be for lowering cargo by ropes and pulleys. There had to be another way into the hold, and she hoped this was it.

At the bottom of the ladder, she raised her lamp. The faint circle of light illuminated the shadowy passageway. Elizabeth clutched at the wall as waves of panic assaulted her. She had always been afraid of the dark.

The sea was very close here. She could hear it below her, feel the weight of the water pressing against the sides of the frail ship. She shivered, pulling her cloak closer against the dank, motionless air. Something squeaked, and Elizabeth heard the rustle of claws against wood. “Ugh!”
Rats. I hate rats.

When she was a child in her father's country house, rats had killed two of her father's newborn hound pups. She had gone into the stable to cuddle the puppies and found the rats in the act of eating them. She'd been only seven, but she had been so angry that she'd killed one of the vicious creatures with a pitchfork. The blood and gore had made her sick, and she'd thrown up all over her new gown—but she'd saved the rest of the litter. She had cried until Beorn, the huntsman, took the mother and the surviving pups into his hut.

Elizabeth wished she had another weapon besides her eating knife. She supposed the tiny blade would be useless against a rat or a menacing sailor, but it was all she had. She pulled it from the embroidered sheath at her waist and held it out in front of her.

Halfway down the passage she found the hatch she was looking for. She slipped the wooden bolt and cautiously pushed the door open. “Cain?” she called. There was no answer. “Cain, are you in here? Can you hear me?”

She had come too far to turn back now. Stepping over the ledge, she entered the cavernous hold.

“Eliz-a-beth.”

“Cain! I'm here. Where are you?” She raised the lantern higher, letting the light shine over the kegs, and crates, and bales of tobacco.

“
Ickalli aal!
”

Elizabeth turned toward the sound of his voice. What had he said? Something abut wanting her to go away. “Cain, it's me, Elizabeth,” she repeated. “I've come to help you.”

“This one wants no more of your help!”

She rounded a bale of tobacco and caught sight of him, chained against the ribs of the ship. “Oh,” she cried, hurrying toward him.

His tangled hair hung loose over his face. His arms were bare, but his body was wrapped in a blanket. As she drew near, he rose scowling to his feet and warded her off with manacled hands. “
Mata!
I do not want you here.”

“Cain, please.” His dirty hands were balled into fists, and his eyes gleamed with a feral flame.

“You betrayed me, woman,” he said. “Now you come to taunt the wolf in his trap.”

She stopped and shook her head. “No, Cain. I didn't. I didn't know you were on the ship until-”

“I came to the willows, Eliz-a-beth,” he said coldly. “I waited for you. But you did not come.”

“I tried. I was sick, but I—”

“Your soldiers came for me. Who told them I was waiting for you? No one else can know if you do not tell them. Pah!” He spat on the floor and glared at her with contempt.

“It wasn't me. You've got to believe me.” She took a step toward him. “I've brought you wine and some meat.”

Cain turned his face away. “I want nothing from you.”

“I can help you. My father is a very powerful man . . . very wealthy. I can have him buy you from-”

“Buy me?” The cords on his neck stood out as his muscles tensed in barely contained fury. His voice dropped until his words were barely audible. “Shaakhan Kihittuun. A warrior of the Lenni-Lenape.”

“Please . . .” Elizabeth held out her hand.

“
Mata!
Come closer and I might wrap these chains around your soft English neck.”

She drew back, frightened. This was a side of Cain she had never seen. “You wouldn't hurt me,” she said.

“Do not tempt me.”

Frost leaped from his eyes, sending shivers down her back. “It wasn't me,” she protested.

“Then who? Who knew this one had promised to come for you?”

“No one.” She shook her head. “I don't know, but . . . maybe they found you by chance. Maybe-”

“
Mata.
The soldiers say you tell them.” He smiled at her fiercely. “Be you take me for fool, Eliz-a-beth? A savage, mayhap—but no fool.”

With shaking hands, she drew the bottle of wine from her bag and held it out. “Drink this. I can't stay long, and I can't leave the bottle. I—”

“Who goes there?”

The harsh voice of a man behind her caused Elizabeth to spin around and face the hatchway.

“Who is it? Are you mad, woman?” Mr. Quinn cried. “Come away from that savage.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth cried. “I just wanted to—”

“Save your excuses for the captain, m'lady,” Quinn said. “I'm certain he'll be very interested to hear why a lady would come alone to converse with a red savage.”

With a final anguished glance at Cain, Elizabeth followed the irate officer out of the hold toward what she was certain would be an extremely unpleasant interview with Captain Douglas.

 

E
lizabeth rose from her high-backed settle in the orangery, moved to one of the tall windows, and stared out over her father's formal garden. The symmetrical design of dwarf boxwood and topiary pyramids extending to the river was maintained as flawlessly as she remembered. The brick paths were swept spotless by the gardeners; not one stray leaf or fallen twig marred the perfection.

The Thames ran just beyond the end of the garden. If it hadn't been for the brick wall at the base of the slope, she could have seen boatmen ferrying their passengers and cargo on the river.

Elizabeth had never cared for the rigid formality of a parterre garden. Even as a child, she had preferred the lush profusion of herbs and trees at Longview, the family's country house. In the country garden were fountains and thick hedges and a holly maze where a child could hide for hours from stern guardians. She sighed, remembering the pristine beach and clean forest smells she had left behind in the Colonies.

A slight sound made her turn quickly toward the doorway, but no one appeared. Instead, there was the muffled sound of footsteps retreating down the long hall. Elizabeth brushed nervously at the folds in her skirt and glanced back out the window.

No, she decided, the garden was not quite the same as it had seemed when she walked there last winter; it looked smaller, hemmed in by the river wall. And the cages of white sparrows that hung from the ceiling of the orangery were poor comparisons to the wide variety of colorful birds she had seen in the Virginia Colony.

Still, the garden at Sommersett House was the first bit of green she had seen since the
Lady Jane
docked in London. How could she have forgotten how narrow the streets were—how dark and dirty. The stench of the city was always frightful in August. Elizabeth had rarely been in London in the heat of summer. Cities stank. How could it be otherwise, when sewage ran in open ditches along the streets and any butcher was free to dump his offal into the common ditch?

No, London hasn't changed, she assured herself. I have. When did I become so squeamish? Dirt and squalor were as much a part of London as the glitter of Whitehall, or the excitement of the theater.

She returned to the doorway and looked up and down the hall. There was no sign of her father. Elizabeth sighed impatiently. I suppose I should have been glad to find that he was here in London, instead of in the country, or gone off to Bath with my stepmother.

Sommersett House was nearly deserted. Only a skeleton crew remained to staff the large house while the family was away. Many of the rooms had been closed off. Of the servants she'd seen when she'd arrived last night, she'd known only two.

Elizabeth wandered aimlessly back to the settle and sank onto the horsehair seat. Although she had convinced Captain Douglas that she'd taken the wine and meat to his prisoner on a foolish woman's whim, she had remained under suspicion for the rest of the voyage. Mistress Wright had lost no time in spreading the story of Elizabeth's shipwreck and rescue by the Indians. Doubtless the captain believed her wanton or simply a little mad.

That was of no consequence; what did matter was that there had been no opportunity to see Cain again until she had watched him being dragged away from the docks yesterday. The fact that he believed she had betrayed him to the English soldiers preyed on her mind until she could think of nothing else.

He's alive, she reminded herself—alive and strong. It had taken four men to wrestle him, chained, into a coach. Naturally, no one had bothered to tell her where Cain was being taken, or who had purchased him.

Never mind, she thought. Father will be able to learn the truth soon enough. There is little that happens in London that he doesn't have a finger in. Wasn't it common gossip that he maintained a network of thieves and beggars as spies?

“Elizabeth. Let me look at you.”

She turned toward the sound of her father's voice, stood, and sank into a deep curtsy. “Father.”

Roger Sommersett regarded his daughter with shrewd eyes. A thickset man of medium height with a large nose and prematurely gray hair, he was dressed in a fashionable scarlet short-waisted doublet with slashed sleeves and matching breeches. The velvet breeches were decorated with ribbons and cut narrow to show off his shapely calves.

“Turn around,” he instructed. “You look well enough to me. I was told you had suffered great hardships.”

“Are you certain you were not told I was mad?”

Sommersett's green eyes, the exact shade of Elizabeth's, lit with good humor, and he extended a broad ringed hand.

Elizabeth raised it to her lips. “Father. I'm so happy to see you. I was afraid you would be in the country.”

He smiled and patted the top of her head fondly. “You have caused quite a stir, girl. But then you always did take after those godforsaken Scots on your grandmother's side of the family.” His expression hardened. “Are you still fit for marriage?”

“Sir?” She blushed and stepped back, feeling foolish for allowing her father's blunt manner to disturb her. What if my family had believed me lost at sea? I'm here now, and that's all that matters to Father. Sommersett interests come first—isn't that the first rule he ever taught me?

“Damn me, girl, have you gone soft in the head? Is your maidenhead intact? Will Dunmore find legal reason to reject you as a bride?”

“I don't want to marry him.”

“What?”

“Don't be angry with me . . . please.″

Sommersett swore an oath so foul that Elizabeth began to tremble. Her father had never struck her with a closed fist, but she had seen him knock her older brother halfway across the stable when he was enraged. Sensibly, she sidled away to put the settle between them. Vile curses continued to roll off his tongue until his face turned an angry purple and he ran out of breath.

At last, he ceased his blaspheming and fixed his daughter with a thoughtful gaze. “No need to hide from me, chit,” he said gruffly. “Your sister Alice had not your virtue, yet we sent her to her marriage bed with the Sommersett honor upheld.” He shook his head. “Never fear, I'll not blame you for what a heathen stole. You're not with child, are you?”

“No, Father, but—”

“Then nothing's torn that cannot be mended. Dunmore will demand that you be examined by midwives, naturally. It won't be the—″

“You must listen to me,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I have to tell you what happened.”

Sommersett's hooded eyes narrowed. “The matter is ended. There is no need to discuss—″

“There is a need,” she flung back. “I have a need. For once in my life, I want you to listen to me and to what I want.”

His shoulders tensed and he drew back an open hand, then he began to chuckle. “You're not all your mother's child, are you, Elizabeth? She always said you had my tenacity. All right, have your say. I'll listen. But I warn you, I have a meeting with Buckingham at noon. I'll not leave the King's favorite waiting for a chit's whim.” He sat down on the settle and motioned to her. “Come, sit beside me. You're in no danger, despite your sassy tongue. Think you I'd introduce you to your future husband with your face bruised and swollen?″

Cautiously, Elizabeth obeyed and began to tell her father what had transpired after the
Speedwell
went down off the Virginia coast. Sommersett gave her his complete attention, saying nothing while she spoke.

“And so you see, Father,” Elizabeth concluded nearly an hour later, “why Cain cannot remain a prisoner. We must find him and buy his freedom.”

“This man is the reason why you say you cannot marry Edward Lindsey.”

She nodded and looked down at her lap. The fingers on her left hand fumbled nervously with the lace decolletage of her lavender satin gown.

“Let me be absolutely certain I understand you,” he said. “You believe yourself in love with this . . . this Indian, and you wish to wed him instead of Lord Dunmore.”

“Yes . . . no.” Tears blurred her vision. “It's not that simple.” She sniffed and tried to gain control of her cracking voice. “I want you to find Cain and send him back to Virginia.” Elizabeth reached for her father's hand and squeezed it.

Sommersett allowed the familiarity but did not return the pressure. “You are more disturbed by your ordeal than I believed if you think your family will permit you to marry a savage who eats raw meat and worships trees.”

“Cain doesn′t—″ she began in protest and then broke off. There was no way she could explain Cain to a man like her father. It wasn't possible. How could she explain something she didn't understand herself? ”Father, he—″ She sighed. “You're right, of course. I didn't expect to be allowed to marry him. But he does deserve a reward for saving my life. Surely, it would sully the Sommersett honor to let such a debt go unpaid.”

“You were intimate with this creature?”

“No!” She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “This creature, as you call him, is a man—a man of great honor. I haven't shamed you. I retained my maidenhead. I am as pure as when you sent me forth.”

“Then why do you say you do not wish to marry Dunmore?” He removed his hand from her clasp. “The man to which you have been betrothed since you were nine years old.”

Elizabeth rose stiffly and walked to the window. This interview was not going as she had hoped. She pressed her cheek against the cool glass and stared unseeing at the garden. Her stomach churned. Cain's future, his very life, hung in the balance. If she could not convince her father to help, she would be condemning the man she loved to certain death.

“Well?” Sommersett demanded.

She turned to face him, her face as pale as milk, and forced herself to say the words that would do most toward soothing her father's ire without surrendering. “Perhaps I will wed Edward,” she said. “I don't now. I only know that I am not the same person who sailed to Virginia to wed a stranger. I have changed inside, in ways I cannot . . .”

Elizabeth paused and drew in a deep breath. “Forgive me, sire. I know that you have my best wishes at heart. I don't wish to disobey you, but I cannot wed a man I don't know. I want time to make Edward's acquaintance—to see if I can have any feeling toward him at all.” Jade fire flickered behind her eyes, and her tone took on a thread of steel. “I want your promise that you will not force me to marry Edward if I decide I can't abide him.”

“Has Dunmore offended you in some way?”

“Damn me, Father! You don't understand. How could the man have offended me when I haven't laid eyes on him since I was a child? That's the point! He is an unknown. I don't know if I could ever love him, or even come to respect him as a wife should respect and admire her husband.”

Sommersett scoffed. “Love. What girlish prattle is this about love? Marriage is an alliance between families. You never complained before about the choice I made for you. Why now?”

She faced his rising rage with unyielding spirit, meeting his glare fearlessly. “Because Cain has taught me something of the love a woman should feel for a man, I don't want to spend the rest of my life tied to—”

“Enough.” He stood up. “I will think on it.”

“Why can't you give me an answer now? Every hour we wait puts Cain in greater danger. We must locate him before it is too late.”

Sommersett held up his hand. “No. No more. I told you I would consider your plea. I have ever been lenient with you, Elizabeth. Doubtless I've spoiled you and encouraged your headstrong notions. We will speak of this again tonight.”

“Can you not at least try to find out where Cain is?” she dared. “I know you—”

“Must I give you a taste of my hand to secure your obedience?” he snapped. “There is no need to search out your savage. ‘Tis common gossip that Dunmore purchased the Indian. He has been bragging about Whitehall for weeks that he'd ordered one of the natives from Virginia.”

“You let me prattle on when you knew all along that Dunmore had Cain? Damn you for a cold, unfeeling bastard!”

Elizabeth didn't flinch when her father's hand smacked across her face.

Cain had tried not to look for Elizabeth when he was dragged off the English ship and thrown into a coach. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't—that he would forget she'd ever existed. But he hadn't been able to keep that promise. Elizabeth was flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone. The only way to cast her from his heart would be to tear it out and throw it onto the ground.