Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (41 page)

The girl had a wild look in her eyes. She grabbed Darcy's gown and screamed, "Please! I got to find them!"

Darcy looked over at Moses helplessly. All he could do was shake his head and say, "Gawd Almighty!"

They knew that it was unlikely Faith would find her mother and siblings at the fort. The French and the Abenaki frequently took prisoners and assimilated them into the tribe or sold them as servants in
Quebec
.

Understanding though how frantic the girl must feel, Darcy sighed and said, "All right. I'll take you up with me, but not the child.” Looking at Moses she asked, "Are you leaving right away?"

He nodded. Faith dashed to her sister and wrapped her arms around her. "When this is over, I will come and get you. Pray hard, little Catherine, and we will be safe."

Darcy looked at Moses. Something told her it would be a long time before she would see him again, and she asked, "Will you take Shenanigan? I don't have a good feeling--" She caught herself, not wanting to alarm the girls. “I love you, Moses Tinker,” Darcy said, instead.

"Damnation! Don't talk like that. I'll see you again soon. Now go!"

Darcy grabbed Faith's wrist and said, "You must run faster than you have ever run before."

The girl nodded, and after peeking out the door, they bolted into the clearing. Never letting go of Faith's wrist, Darcy dragged her down the trail as fast as their feet would carry them to the fort. The guard on sentry duty was surprised to see Darcy return so quickly, and he swung the door open immediately.

"Where is Colonel Lawrence?" she asked.

"In the commissary,” he replied.

“Have any settlers come through in the past hour?"

"No, ma'am."

Faith looked at Darcy, tears filling her eyes, "Maybe they are hiding in the woods. They could still come to the fort."

Darcy took her to the women's quarters knowing that they would watch over her. Wasting no time, she headed to the commissary to find Nathan.

He was going over the books with the clerk. When she walked in, he looked up and said impatiently, "What is it, Darcy?"

"I must see you alone."

He handed the books to Stuart and walked over to the door and said, "This better be important."

"There has been a raid on the Wyndom homestead. They have killed the father and taken the mother and two children as prisoners. Two of the girls escaped to Moses' homestead."

Lawrence
nodded his head as if he had anticipated this. "So the French have finally arrived with their savages. I must be frank, Darcy. There is about to be another siege, and I am not confident of the outcome. I have asked for reinforcements, but they are not convinced that a large scale assault will occur, so if we fall, do what you have to do to save yourself and meet me at
Fort
Pepperell
. I shall regroup there and take the fort back at a later date."

"How can you say such a thing? We have repelled them before! How can you have so little faith in your own garrison, Nathan?"

"I am only being realistic, Darcy. I fear that their numbers will be too large. They want this river badly. It is a strategic point near
Quebec
, and I believe they know of our plans to build yet another fort on the
Kensington
River
. They will try to expel us from this area now before we become too strong."

Darcy stared at Nathan and was speechless. He had very dispassionately informed her that there was a good chance she and others were about to die.

She returned to the women's quarters and found Faith staring straight ahead into the fire. Her brown hair hung in tangles around her face, and her dark eyes looked vacant. Darcy squatted down in front of the girl‘s chair. "Faith, there may be an attack here at the fort any time now. Do what you have to do to stay alive. It is the only way."

Slowly Faith turned and looked at her, a dazed look in her eyes.

"She is so young," thought Darcy. "She is too young to be all alone."

Darcy remembered that they were people of strong faith, and she reached up to the mantle for the Bible. She handed the book to the girl and said quietly, "Remember your name."

"We'll take good care of her. Don't fret," assured Mrs. Stafford, the kindly nurse who had taken care of Jean Michel during the last siege.

Darcy returned to Nathan's quarters and went straight to the cupboard, pouring herself a glass of rum. She was determined that she would not go sleepless tonight. Her nerves were raw, and she sat down, feeling the spirits warm her.

It reminded her of the first night she had met Father Etienne. They had shared brandy in front of the peat fire on that wild, windy night in so long ago. Little did she know how their lives would intertwine and how his younger brother, living an ocean away, would fill her heart.

After another drink, Darcy's limbs began to feel heavy, and she rose and went to Nathan's bedroom. Before the expedition with Jean Michel, Nathan would call Darcy to his room when he wanted her company, and she would return to her own quarters to sleep, but now he insisted that she share his bed the entire night.

His bedroom was much more luxurious than Darcy's quarters. He had a large bed lined with crisp white sheets and topped with a multicolored quilt made by one of the officers' wives. In one corner was a cupboard holding liquor and his private library and next to his bed was an oak commode fitted with shiny brass hardware.

Wearing only her shift, Darcy slid under the covers. She loved the soft feeling of Nathan's feather mattress, and feeling very tired, she drifted off. She was only vaguely aware of Nathan's presence when he joined her several hours later. He had been making preparations to defend the fort well into the night, and even though there was still work to be done, he knew that he needed sleep to keep his head clear.

He slid under the duvet next to Darcy, but before he could pull her close, his hand dropped, and he fell asleep. A few hours later, there was a loud bang and light flooded across the bed.

Someone, standing in the doorway, shouted, "Colonel Lawrence, wake up! They are coming over the walls!"

Nathan jumped out of bed, pulling on his britches and boots. Still buttoning his shirt, he bolted from the room leaving Darcy alone and stunned.

She threw the covers back and pulled her gown over her head. The last thing she did before leaving the room was to belt her skirts up so she could be ready to run. She rushed through the dark front room, out the front door. What she saw paralyzed her. The commissary and the barracks were ablaze, casting a hellish light on the carnage which unfolded before her eyes. Everywhere soldiers and civilians were running and shouting. Some lay before her bleeding; others were already dead. Shots were being fired, as well as the thunderous cannons. Screams of agony filled her ears. Men in buckskin and blue uniforms poured over the walls in a steady stream along with hordes of Abenaki Indians, dashing madly across the parade ground.

Suddenly, Darcy saw men pointing at her. She heard someone shout something in French. She had made a fatal mistake; she had lingered too long in Nathan's doorway, and they had guessed who she was. Bolting across the parade ground, Darcy searched frantically for a hiding place. She was knocked off her feet by two men struggling, but was up again in a heart beat, running for her life.

Then it came to her. As foolhardy as it might seem, she would hide in the powder magazine. The flames were alarmingly close, and the whole fort could blow at any time, but no one would be foolish enough to pursue her there.

She ran inside and hid behind several barrels of black powder. Straining her ears she heard no one follow her. She reached for the cross around her neck, but it was gone. Remembering that Jean Michel had it, she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She realized that if she were to die now, no one would grieve for her.

Darcy darted to the door of the magazine to watch for her moment to escape. She scanned the parade ground. In the firelight, not far from the powder magazine she saw a large man dressed in buckskin, struggling with a young girl. Grabbing her shoulders, he bent her over the top of a barrel. Darcy realized, with a jolt, it was Faith Wyndom.

As the Frenchman began to pull up her skirts and unbutton his pants, Darcy felt a surge of rage.
This creature would not steal Faith's peace of mind the way hers had been stolen
. Darcy bolted out of the powder magazine back into the mayhem. Searching frantically for a weapon, she dodged soldiers fighting, jumped over corpses and flaming debris. At last she saw an ax standing by the wood pile, and she picked it up bolting back toward Faith and her attacker.

Darcy stopped abruptly in back of the man. She swung the ax over her shoulder, and with all her might drove the weapon deep into his back. The man straightened up and roared. He staggered, reaching in vain for the ax deep in his back and crumbled to his knees.

Instantly, Darcy grabbed Faith’s wrist, and without a backward glance, raced across the parade ground. She heard someone shout, "That's her!" and dropping the girl’s wrist, she screamed, "It’s me they want, run!"

Darcy fled up the ramp to the top of the fort wall, and pulling her skirts up as high as they would go, she swung herself over the sharp timbers of the fortification. The roughly hewn wood tore at her skin and ripped her dress, as she slid down the timbers.

She landed heavily on the unyielding earth below; every ounce of air knocked from her lungs. She lay on the ground, stunned. After a few moments, Darcy gathered herself and struggled to her feet.

Suddenly, an Abenaki warrior dashed toward her. She started to run, but he was too fast. He caught her, threw her down and lashed a rawhide thong around her wrists tightly. Terrified and exhausted, Darcy knew that she was too late; she was now a captive to be ransomed as Colonel Lawrence's mistress.

Chapter 30

Jean Michel woke up in a cold sweat. Something was horribly wrong. But as he cleared away the cobwebs of sleep, nothing revealed itself to him. He had returned to his home on the
Picscataqua
River
safely, and his injuries had healed well, but for days now he had a nagging feeling that Darcy was in trouble.

He sat up and touched the cross from her, as it rested on his bare chest. It had stayed safely next to his heart since the day she had given it to him, but he wondered if she may be in need of it now. Impatiently, he threw the covers off and walked to the window.

Jean Michel was bathed in bright moonlight, as he looked out at the stars. Ever since he had arrived home,
Lawrence
's words haunted him. "I believe I have enlightened her as to your motives, Lupe'.

It was indeed common knowledge that he and Elizabeth had an understanding, but he must get to Darcy somehow and reassure her that he had broken his engagement. He could feel in his heart that she had lost faith in him and that her fire for him did not burn as brightly.

Jean Michel's hair was loose, and it lay in tangles around his face and shoulders. He ran his hands through it impatiently, as he paced the floor of his bedroom. He was growing frantic without her. How he wished that she were by his side to calm his fears and rest her beautiful green eyes on him.

He looked around his bedroom at the curtained, four-poster bed, the mahogany writing desk and the lush draperies. He knew she would feel out of place here just as he did. At first it would be amusing to pamper and bathe her in luxury, but he knew Darcy too well. Soon she would grow bored and need to strike out, throwing herself into adventure.

He longed to steal her from
Lawrence
and take her deep into the interior forever--just the two of them wandering under the stars away from laws and wars and ruthless governments. Etienne had seen something wonderful in that woman long before he even knew she existed, and he came to believe that his older brother had sent Darcy to him as a farewell gift.