Sweet Release (46 page)

Alec put aside the curry comb, giving the stallion one final pat on his gleaming flank. Back outside, tendrils of pink-orange sunlight stretched across the dull autumn sky, heralding day’s end. Nearby Jamie was trying to teach Pirate to fetch. The child had been valiantly hiding his fear and sadness over Cassie’s abduction, but more than once Alec had heard him whimpering in his sleep, muttering her name.

“Here, boy! Here, Pirate!” Jamie called.

Pirate ran stubbornly in the opposite direction, stick in his mouth, tail awag.

Jamie’s lower lip began to quiver, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“He’ll come back, tadpole,” Alec reassured him, certain it was Cassie’s absence more than the puppy’s stubborn behavior that brought tears to Jamie’s eyes.

“No, he won’t.” Jamie sniffed and wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand, leaving a muddy streak across one cheek.

“Pirate!”

Pirate sniffed a fern, then ran deeper into the pines.

“Try calling him again. This time use a strong voice, one that tells him you’re his master and he’d best obey.”

For a moment Jamie looked up at Alec, his green eyes clouded by doubt. Then he lifted his little chin in defiance, his stubborn expression reminding Alec so much of Cassie that, for a moment, Alec felt overwhelmed by the sorrow of missing her.

“Pirate! Come here!” Jamie shouted with fierce determination. The pup turned about and dashed back, ears flopping, stick still in his mouth.

“Now praise him.”

“Good doggy.” Jamie patted the puppy’s head until the animal’s entire body wagged in delight. “Did you see, Cole? He came back to me!”

“Aye, Jamie. I saw.” Alec ruffled the boy’s curls, suppressing the urge to sweep him up in a crushing hug.

I will bring your sister back, tadpole, or Ill die trying.

“He’s goin’ to be as bullheaded as his sister. Runs in the blood.”

Alec turned to see Micah approaching, Cassie’s father’s pistol box in his hands. Crichton had driven Micah off Blakewell’s land, threatening to make him a slave, but Micah had only pretended to leave, traveling north by day but moving under cover of night back to the safety of this little island. Strange to think this small sliver of sand had become a haven for them all.

“I cleaned and oiled ‘em both,” Micah said. “Hope you don’t need to use ‘em, but the powder’s good and fresh if you do.” Alec accepted the box with a grateful nod, then cracked the lid to view the two gleaming pistols within.

“You leavin’ tonight?”

“Aye.”

Dinner seemed to last forever, fish and com bread sliding tastelessly down Alec’s throat, the tension in his body building with each passing moment. They’d all agreed Jamie should be told nothing of his plan to rescue Cassie lest it fail. The boy chattered gaily as he ate, apparently unaware of the grim faces around him. Introduced to a father he could not remember, Jamie treated the old man with the kindness and concern only a child could show, even crawling into his father’s lap to tell him of his latest adventures and imaginings. His father’s lack of response didn’t seem to discourage him.

“Cole, will you tell me a bedtime story?”

“Not tonight, tadpole.”

Disappointment cast shadows in Jamie’s eyes, but he did no protest.

Alec suddenly felt like an ass. If not tonight, when? He might never see Jamie again. He glanced out the tiny window, where the last bit of daylight still clung to the sky. There was time.

“On second thought, tadpole,” he said, lifting the child onto his lap, “tonight is the perfect night for a bedtime story. What do you want to hear?”

“Blackbeard!”

A half hour later, Alec was slogging through frigid, knee-deep marsh water, the cheery light of the cabin vanishing behind him Mud oozed beneath his feet, threatening to suck off the leather moccasins Takotah had made for him. Driven by a growing sense of urgency, he moved through the mire as quickly as he could straining to see and hear through the oppressive darkness, to make out the ghostly shapes of trees and rotting stumps, the sounds c unseen night creatures. More than once he slipped, tripping over slick rocks and hidden roots. The chilly water made even his bone ache. His body, weak from days of fever and wounds that hadn’t fully healed, struggled to keep up with the demands he made c it.

He had to reach Cassie. He had to get her to safety. Nothing else mattered.

Wet to the waist and numb with cold, he forced discomfort to the back of his mind and reached into the pouch Takotah had give him. He pulled out a leaf, put it in his mouth, and chewed. The bitter taste at first made him choke, but almost immediately he felt warmer, stronger. Pain faded from his thoughts and he pressed or driven by one intent, one purpose, until he found himself scrambling uphill onto dry land.

Ahead, the pale silver of moonlight beckoned through a break in the trees.

Then, in the distance, he heard it.

The baying of hounds.

Chapter Thirty

Cassie looked out the carriage window, her stomach in painful knots. How she wished she could throw open the door, leap to the ground, and run into the forest. But Geoffrey held her arm fast, his ringers digging possessively into her skin. He would stop her before she’d even laid a finger on the door handle. Besides, he’d made it clear that Alec’s life, perhaps even Jamie’s, depended upon her obedience. She had no choice but to do as he bade.

She’d always imagined her wedding day would be the happiest day of her life, not the most desperate. But she’d never imagined any of this. She was about to be made Geoffrey’s wife, his chattel. The thought nauseated her, chilled her to the bone. She could not conceive of spending even one night in his bed, let alone a lifetime. She could not imagine dining with him each night, sharing holidays or entertaining his guests. She could not bear to think of Alec’s child calling him “father.” But unbearable as it was, barring a miracle, that was what her future held.

She’d tried to persuade the slave who helped her dress to let her escape, but the woman had become all but hysterical, describing how the master would punish her. Cassie had also considered telling the reverend there was no baby. Except, of course, that she
was
carrying a child, Alec’s child.

Was this God’s way of punishing her for the wrongs she had done? She had lied, forged her father’s signature, and taken a man to her bed without wedding vows. She had lived more or less as she pleased, ignoring most of the rules church and society forced upon young women. Could she be paying the price now? Cassie thrust the notion from her mind. A God who claimed to love could not be so cruel.

Yet here she was.

Geoffrey had not spoken to her the past week since that horrible night when he’d forced her to dine with him. He’d watched in anger and disgust as she’d thrown up on the floor, taking it as a personal affront. He’d banished her to her room, where she’d spent the week alone, tortured by her fears. What was happening to Alec and Jamie and all those she loved? Did they blame her? Did they hate her? How long could she hide her condition? Would Geoffrey believe the child was his? What would he do to her and the baby if he did not?

She had been dreading this morning as a condemned criminal dreaded the day of execution. That was what it felt like—an execution. But now the day had arrived, beginning before dawn with a turn of the key in the lock. Geoffrey had entered in his dressing gown, ordered her to bathe and dress, and presented her with a gown of rose-colored silk that he intended to be her wedding gown. The feral look in his eyes had stilled her protests before they’d reached her lips. Silently she’d done as he’d demanded—for her babe’s sake and Alec’s.

“We are almost there,” Geoffrey said, interrupting her thoughts. “Try to look a bit less glum and more like a bride, my dear. It is your wedding day.”

The carriage lumbered around a bend in the road, the forest opening to reveal the familiar facade of St. Mary’s White Chapel and a host of outbuildings. Dread flowed ice-cold through Cassie’s veins.

God, please don’t let this happen!

The carriage drew to a stop at the church steps.

“Come, my dear.” Geoffrey alighted, then turned to give her his hand.

Legs trembling, Cassie rejected his offer, clutching the door handle for support instead, and stepping unsteadily to the ground. Reverend Dinwiddie stood in the chapel’s doorway, hands clasped together, brow rolled into a thick frown, the ruddy color of his round face standing out against the white of his satin vestments.

“A good morning to you, Reverend.” Geoffrey led Cassie up the steps. “I trust you are well.”

“Good day, Geoffrey. Catherine.”

The reverend eyed her disapprovingly. Geoffrey pressed Cassie through the door ahead of him, his hand firmly on her back. Sunlight streamed weakly through small windows on either side of the chapel; the lone stained-glass window above the altar splashed color across the polished wooden floor. A handful of candles flickered off to one side, each one a prayer for divine intervention. Propelled by Geoffrey, Cassie followed the reverend up the center aisle, repeating her own silent prayer.

“I must say I do not like this, Geoffrey. It pains me to go behind your fathers back. He has contributed generously to this church through the years, and I hate to deceive him. Fathers should oversee such decisions, especially when matters of estate are at stake.” The reverend’s voice echoed through the empty space. “You are your father’s sole heir. He would want you to marry a woman of consequence.”

Cassie was not insulted by the snub, hearing instead hope in the reverend’s words. If Reverend Dinwiddie had misgivings about performing this ceremony, she might be able to talk him out of it. Did she dare take the risk?

“I assure you my father will be most grateful you helped avert a scandal. His gratitude will no doubt take the form of further charity. You might even find yourself with another colored window. Perhaps in the narthex.”

“Let us both hope you are right, Geoffrey, or I might be sharply pressed to help secure an annulment. That would no doubt prove most difficult with a child on the way.”

Cassie felt blood rush from her head at the mention of her unborn child, the one Geoffrey thought was merely a ruse.

“What is it, dear? Are you feeling unwell?”

Geoffrey’s use of endearments and his false concern sickened her.

“Of course not. You know full well I’m here by force.”

He merely smiled.

“Master Geoffrey has already told me of your unwillingness to marry, Catherine, and I must say I’m of a mind with him.” Reverend Dinwiddie shuffled through the
Book of Common Prayer
that sat on his lectem. “Your father never taught you your place, and now that indulgence has borne fruit, as it were. Your refusal to be sensible only proves the need for a strong hand to govern you. If you will not be ruled by common sense—as, God knows, few women are—those who know what is best must make decisions for you.”

Cassie felt her temper rise. “Is it not against the decrees of the Church to marry a woman against her will?” Her throat was tight, her voice unsteady.

“If the edict were strictly followed, my child, there would be fewer brides and many more bastards. In my experience it is not uncommon to see an unwilling bride brought in shame to the altar, only to see her return a few months later, babe in arms, contented.”

“Then you . . . you will go ahead with this unholy farce?”

Reverend Dinwiddie looked up from his lectern, fixing her with a stern, rheumy gaze, but said nothing.

Tears spilled over onto Cassie’s cheeks, her last hope shattered.

“Did I not say she was willful?” Geoffrey laughed.

Reverend Dinwiddie cleared his throat. “We have come together in the presence of Almighty God to witness the joining together of this man and this woman in holy matrimony....”

Cassie fought back sobs as Reverend Dinwiddie read the words that would consign her to a life of misery, her mind beyond thought, her heart beyond feeling. Tears poured down her cheeks, the world a shifting blur around her.

This cannot be happening!

“Catherine, will you take this man to be your lawful husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, obey him, comfort and honor him, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

The reverend’s voice drifted to her ears as if it came from far away. Try though she might, Cassie could not form the words she was expected to say.

Geoffrey’s fingers bit painfully into her arm. “Ask her again,” he demanded, his face twisted in an angry scowl.

“Yes, ask her again, good Reverend, by all means.”

Cassie spun toward the sound of that familiar voice to find Alec leaning casually against the doorjamb. He was covered from head to toe with mud. In one hand he held a pistol, its barrel pointed casually at the floor.

“You!” Geoffrey snarled.

“Alec!”

How could it be? Relief surged through Cassie, leaving her weak, breathless. She would have run to him had Geoffrey not grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in front of him like a shield.