The Raider (13 page)

“That's a lie!” Abigail shouted. “I don't even know this man. I told the truth: I made the whole thing up and I singed my hair in the fireplace. I've never—”

“Bailiff, if you don't quiet this woman, I'll have her removed. Now, Mr. Ledbetter, what about the hair?”

“We rolled too close to the campfire,” he said, with some pride in his voice.

For a moment, the courtroom was too shocked to reply, but then they let out a sound half between laughter and a roar of outrage.

The bailiff restored order while the judges conferred.

“We have reached a decision,” one judge said. “The defendant, Abigail Wentworth, and the witness, Ethan Ledbetter, are to be taken from here and—” The audience waited. “And married before sundown.”

Abigail fainted and Ethan looked as if he were about to.

“I lied,” Ethan cried. “I only wanted to help the Raider. I lied.”

The judges, looking utterly disgusted with the whole case, waved their hands in dismissal.

Alex took Jessica's elbow and escorted her from the courtroom, but Jess pulled away from him and waited until the prisoners were brought out. Abigail was crying, as was her mother, but Ethan had his handsome jaw set, his head high. He looked proud in spite of the people gaping at him. When he passed Alex, he stopped, looked at Alex with hatred, then spit in his face.

Very calmly, Alex took his handkerchief and wiped away the spittle as Ethan was shoved forward.

“Shall we go, Jess?” Alex asked.

Jessica went with him but she didn't allow him to touch her. Nor did she speak to him until they were away from the crowd.

“Of all the hideous things to do to a person,” she gasped, so angry she could barely speak. “You
knew
the court would force them to marry, didn't you?”

“I had an idea it might happen.”

“How did you get Ethan to agree to say he'd been with Abigail?”

“I don't see why you're so angry. I merely appealed to Ethan's patriotism. I told him he'd be helping his country and, especially, his town.”

“And he believed you.” Her hands were fists at her sides. “Just because you have the Montgomery name, people believe they can trust you. Oh, you've done a terrible thing, Alexander Montgomery. You've betrayed your name.” She turned on her heel and stormed away.

“Wait just a minute, young lady,” he said, grabbing her arms and pulling her off the road a few feet into the forest. “I told you what I was planning to do and you had no objections. What's made you so angry? The fact that I chose Ethan Ledbetter to dupe? Or the fact that your handsome young man fell for it so easily?”

“He's not mine and release me!”

Alex still held her upper arms tightly. “Why are you so angry at
me?
I got Abigail free, not that she deserved it with all her lies, and Ethan, a mere blacksmith, is marrying into one of the richest families in Warbrooke. I don't see anything so bad about what I've done.”

“Except that Ethan now has to spend the rest of his life with an idiot like Abigail.”

He released her arms. “Just days ago you were suggesting Abigail to
me
as a bride but now she isn't good enough for your precious Ethan.”

“Don't you understand?” she said softly. “Ethan might be the Raider.”

“I see,” he said in a cold, flat voice. “And you wanted the Raider for yourself, is that it?
You
were planning to ensnare Ethan yourself.”

“No!” She put her hands over her ears. “You're confusing me. I just hated seeing anyone so unhappy, that's all. You should have told Ethan he might have to marry her.”

“If he wasn't smart enough to figure out that if he got up in front of the entire town and admitted he'd slept with Abigail then he would have to marry her, then he deserved what he got. He's lucky he got off so easily. If the town wasn't in such an uproar over the Raider, he'd not have gotten off so lightly. And Abigail! It's a wonder she's not being stoned.”

“You risked
both
their lives! You couldn't be sure the judge wouldn't sentence them both to death.”

“The judge owes the Montgomerys too much money. I had a nice talk with him before the trial. Of course I didn't know how the townspeople would react. I was afraid Abigail might come in for some abuse.”

“Too many mothers are glad to get her married so their daughters will have a chance.”

Alex smiled at her. “There, that's better. Jess, do you really care about this Raider that much?”

She turned away from him. “I don't know what I feel. I just worry that he's injured. All that blood last time made me—”

“Yes, I know, you worry if he's dead or not. Maybe he has sense enough to know he's not very good at being a Raider and he's given it up.”

She gave him a hard look. “I hope Nelba Mason
does
marry you. Her character is as pleasant as her face. Now, would you mind staying away from my family and me and giving us a little peace?” With that, she turned and left him.

“Damn, damn, damn,” Alex said after she left. He thought he was being so clever when he'd persuaded Ethan to say he'd slept with Abigail. “The Raider's not nearly as intelligent as you think he is,” he said aloud before turning toward home. As far as he could see, the Raider had done far more damage than good.

T
HE
arrival of the English admiral in Warbrooke nearly brought the town to a halt.

Admiral Westmoreland was a big man, and in his brilliantly colored uniform, with his stiff back, his voice that could be heard over a tempest at sea, and his entourage of lesser officers that surrounded him at all times, he was formidable. He was piped onto land and the gathering crowd parted to let the parade of men, led by the admiral, a head taller than the others, pass.

The admiral started up the hill, going straight toward the Montgomery house as if he knew exactly where it was.

John Pitman, adjusting the wig he was wearing for this formal occasion, met him a hundred yards in front of the Montgomery house. Behind him, strolling languidly, was Alexander, yawning with the boredom of it all.

“Sir,” Pitman said, almost bowing before Westmoreland.

The admiral looked Pitman up and down, glanced at Alex, then strode ahead toward the house. “I assume you are Pitman. Are these your quarters?” he boomed out while one of his men opened the door for him. He walked into the common room and effectively halted everyone there. The children stopped their chores, while Eleanor stopped with her spoon above the stew pot.

The admiral didn't bother to ask any questions but waited with obvious impatience while Pitman hurried forward. “This way, sir,” he said, leading the big man to the Montgomery office.

Alexander, following the circus of men, gave Eleanor a shrug as he passed her, indicating that he had no idea what was going on.

In the office, the Admiral stood, looked about until he saw Alex, then stopped. “Out,” was all he said and two men moved forward to remove Alexander.

Alex managed to sidestep them. “I'm afraid you'll have to accept me since I own the building,” he said, looking down at his nails as he leaned against the wall.

The admiral's voice made the rafters creak. “I don't take insolence from subordinates, and especially not from popinjays like you. Remove him.”

As Alex allowed himself to be removed from the room, he cursed the fact that he couldn't do anything to defend himself without raising suspicions. So he stayed outside and continued cursing—this time directed toward the thick-walled house that his ancestors had built that didn't allow him to hear very much. Once he heard Westmoreland's voice boom that if you spare the rod you spoil the child—and he knew the child was America.

Alex's worst fears began to come true, as he realized that the admiral was there to retaliate for what the Raider had done. When he heard the name Taggert in the admiral's loud voice, Alex came alive. He went to the common room, where everyone was moving in slow motion, their ears inclined toward the hall that led to the office.

“Keep the children with you,” Alex said to Eleanor. “No matter what happens, keep the children with you.” He didn't pause or say anything else as he left the house and made his way, as hurriedly as his disguise would allow him, toward the wharf.

Jessica was on the deck of her ship, slinging saltwater about with a mop.

“Jess, I need to talk to you,” Alex called and he tried to keep the urgency out of his voice but it was difficult.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said, moving out of his line of vision.

Alex glanced over his shoulder to see if the admiral and his men were in sight yet. “Jess, come down here! I have to talk to you.”

“Hey, Montgomery, your girl won't talk to you?” someone called.

Alex started up the gangplank. “Jess,” he hissed, purposefully making his voice whine, “if I fall off here because of you…”

With a look of disgust, she went down the gangplank to meet him. “It would serve you right.” She started to help him onto the ship, but he caught her about the waist and, with some force, led her down to the wharf. “Alex, I have work to do. We can't all spend our days being lazy like you can. I have a family to feed.”

Alex could see the admiral and his men coming toward them. “I told you that I have to talk to you.” He put his arm through hers and began pulling.

“What is
wrong
with you? I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to see you. Now, let me go.” She turned her head. “Who are they?”

Alex caught her by the upper arms and made her face him. “Listen to me, Jess, what I say may save your life. We are English subjects. The English think of us as their children. Legally, they have rights. Maybe someday we can change that, but for now they have every right.”

“Alex, you are crazy. And I don't have time for a lecture on politics; I have work to do.”

He didn't release her arms but held her so that she was looking at him.

A man behind them began to speak to the crowd that had gathered around the admiral. “By the order of His Majesty, King George III, Admiral Westmoreland has been sent to put a stop to this man who calls himself the Raider. The admiral will remain in the Colonies until this man is dead. Anyone found harboring the Raider will be executed on the spot, with no trial. It has come to the attention of the admiral that one Jessica Taggert has given aid to the enemy.”

Jess stopped struggling in Alex's grasp and went dead still.

“By the decree of the admiral and the king, the ship belonging to this Taggert woman, the
Mary Catherine,
will be taken from this dock and burned at sea.”

“No!” Jess managed to scream once before Alex got his hand over her mouth and silenced her. He put his big, padded arms around her and pulled her back against his belly.

“I'm going to take you to the house now, Jess,” he whispered. “I don't want you to see this.”

She fought him every step of the way, struggling against his hold on her, kicking at him, trying to bite his hand, doing anything to get him to release her, but he held fast. He managed to get her through the doorway to the Montgomery house. Except for the children and Eleanor, the common room was empty.

“What is it?” Eleanor whispered, seeing her struggling sister with Alex's hand over her mouth.

“The admiral was sent to kill the Raider. Pitman said Jess had something to do with the Raider, so the admiral is setting an example by burning the
Mary Catherine.”

Eleanor was too stunned to react.

“Get me a bottle of whiskey,” Alex ordered. “I'll take her to my room.”

Jess renewed her struggles as Alex hauled her down the corridor. He passed his father's open door, but only glanced at Sayer, neither of them saying a word. By the time Alex reached his bedroom with Jess, Eleanor was there with the whiskey. “I don't want to see anyone,” he said, grabbed the bottle, then shut the door with his foot, the latch falling into place. He released Jessica.

“You bloody coward,” she screamed. “Let me out of here. I can stop him.”

Alex leaned against the door so she couldn't open it. “No, you couldn't. That man has a look of hate in his eye. He plans to have your Raider—and if he can't have him now, he'll take anyone connected with him. He means to make an example of you.”

“He can make an example of someone else. Get your big, fat body away from this door and let me out.”

“You can say whatever you want to me, but you're not leaving here. That Englishman would love to have a reason to string someone up. I've seen his type before. He'd love to hang you from the crow's nest and
then
set the ship afire. All I want is to keep you alive, whether your ship burns or not.”

“It's none of your concern. It's
my
ship that man means to burn. Open this door.” She began to push at him, using all her strength, digging her heels into the floor, her back against his side, but she couldn't move him.

“Jess,” he said in a gentler voice. “If you go out there and try to fight that man, you'll end up dead. I'm not going to allow that.”

“Allow it!” she screamed at him. “Who are you to allow or disallow anything to me?” She pushed and pushed at him until her energy began to sag—and she began to remember what the admiral's man had said. They were going to
burn
her ship.

She slid down Alex and hit the floor. “My father gave me that ship,” she whispered. “It was the only thing he ever gave me except brothers and sisters to raise. None of the boys wanted it. They wanted to sail the oceans on a big ship; they wouldn't have anything to do with the smelly
Mary Catherine,
but Eleanor and I saw it as a way to feed Mother and the kids. Do you know how hard it was to get anyone to teach a
girl
how to sail?”

She sat there, leaning against Alex's leg and began to think about what it would mean to have no ship. “Kit helped me some. And Adam was always there to teach me a new knot or two, but mostly it was old Samuel Hutchins. Remember him? He died a few years ago.”

Alex slid down beside her, so that she leaned against his shoulder, and handed her the whiskey bottle. “I used to laugh at you. I was so jealous that you were younger than I was but you had your own ship.”

Jess took a healthy swallow of the whiskey. “You said no girl should be allowed on a ship, much less to own one, and you said the
Mary Catherine
didn't deserve the name of a ship.”

“True, I said that, but I would have traded everything I owned for your ship or any other. My mother didn't want to let me go to sea. She said she'd lost two sons to the sea and she wasn't going to lose her baby.”

Jess took another deep drink. “She was right. Look what happened to you. You lost your manhood and she died before she saw her best sons again.”

She didn't see the look on Alex's face. “The
Mary Catherine
may have had problems, but she was good to me. Oh, God, Alex, how am I going to feed the children?”

Alex put his arm around her so that her head rested against his shoulder. “I'll help you, Jess. I'll be there to help you.”

She pushed away from him. “Like you were today? Is your idea of help to run from danger?”

“I believe I have the sense to run when the odds are stacked against me,” he said stiffly. “What could you have done against the admiral and his soldiers? I tell you, that man would have loved to hang someone. And he has every right.”

“At least the Raider isn't afraid of his own shadow like the rest of you in this town are.”

Abruptly, Alexander stood and glared down at her. “You and your Raider! It's that idiot who got the town into this mess. If he'd kept his nose out of it and hadn't gone seeking glory, your ship wouldn't have been burned and several lives including your own wouldn't be threatened now. If anything, you ought to be hating the man, not praising him.”

Jess stood, hands on hips, and glared at him. “Don't you realize that something has to be done about the way the English treat us? The Raider realizes that. We don't have nearly the rights that the English have. How can that man burn my ship just because he wants to? What course of action do I have?”

She didn't bother to give him time to answer. “Let me tell you this, Alexander,
you
may be a coward, but that doesn't mean that
all
of us are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I've heard of things that are happening in the south. There have been pamphlets written, speeches made. Maybe something like that can be done in Warbrooke.”

Alex leaned against the door. “Jess, you're talking treason,” he whispered, looking at her pretty neck.

“It's not treason if we are free of England and we're our own country. Then it's patriotism.”

He held out the bottle of whiskey. “Drink this and let's talk.”

“Ha! I'm to trust you? A coward like you?”

He leaned forward until he was nose to nose with her. “I'd like to remind you that
I
saved you from Pitman, that
I
saved Abigail's neck, and today I probably saved you from hanging. That doesn't sound very cowardly to me.”

She rubbed her bruised arms. “I don't like your methods.”

“We can't all be your romantic Raider. Besides, I thought you were convinced he was dead.”

“Don't say that! Let's go to my house and—”

“Not on your life. You aren't stepping foot out of this door today. I don't trust you not to go directly to this admiral and challenge him to a fistfight. I plan to keep you alive day by day. Now, tell me what you have in mind when you talk of patriotism.”

But no matter how much he coaxed, Jessica wouldn't tell him anything.

*   *   *

Jessica awoke with a sick stomach, an aching head and a tongue made of hide glue. Her first thought was that she would never trust Alexander. He had no intention of talking to her about patriotism. He'd only wanted to get her drunk so that she was too befuddled to fight what had been done to her.