Passion's Series (55 page)

Fitz-Gerald looked up at William. "Your grandmother is a strong woman with a weak heart. Dawn knows exactly what Wilhelmina needs and I have no doubt my daughter will see that she gets it." He rose to his feet. "Now the two of you get ready to travel. William, I suggest you dress more suitably. We'll go by horseback."

Fitz-Gerald nodded toward Lady Montgomery and Lady Gaylord. "Ladies."

"Where are you going?" Lady Montgomery asked quietly.

"To retrieve my daughter and your grandson."

Halfway to the door the three men were brought up short by Lady Gaylord's suggestion. "Willie, dear, you had best leave your balls in Sara's care. You know how Dawn feels about them."

Chapter Twenty-two

Raven woke with a start. Though immediately aware he lay in a strange bed, his knowledge of any facts beyond that was worrisomely void. He raised himself up on one elbow. Pain tore at his flesh and he grasped his side. With the pain and the discovery of a fresh bandage came the onset of memory.

The door opened and a pleasant looking older woman with sad, troubled eyes entered, her arms heavily laden with a tray supporting a large bowl. Grandpa Wallace held the door wide for her and then followed her into the room.

"See, dear." Her voice held a kind and gentle tone that Raven recognized at once as the voice that had captured his soul and held it firmly, while he fought the fever and poisons that racked his body.

"I told you he would be waking soon," she told Grandpa Wallace.

"You are always right, Mother," Grandpa answered, confirming Raven's conclusion that the woman was Granny Wallace.

"How do you feel this morning?" she asked Raven as she set the tray upon a nearby table.

"Hungry, and that soup smells wonderful." His empty stomach rumbled. Weakness assailed him, and he hoped the soup would offer strength as well as satisfy his hunger. He wondered if Dawn was in the kitchen.

"Good, ye should be hungry. When ye arrived ye put yerself into a trance. I have to admit I am unfamiliar with such a spell. After that first day when ye sunk deeper, I knew ye was no longer in control. I was concerned ye wouldn't come out of it." She glanced at Grandpa as if for support, then back to Raven. "Ye been here for a total of four days."

She avoided looking into Raven's eyes as she busied herself adjusting his pillows and helping him situate himself into a more comfortable position. "Now, I want ye to eat this soup. We’ll find no meat, but it is a rich broth packed with all manner of good herbs to help ye get yer strength back."

Apprehension danced along his skin, but he obediently dipped his spoon in the bowl and tasted the broth. "You're right. This is very good." Where was Dawn? His gaze scanned the room as he spoke. "You must be Granny Wallace. Do I have you to thank for my care?"

She nodded and blushed prettily, but the sadness did not leave her eyes. He fought to rein in his building dread. Raven recognized this woman must be the great healer of whom he'd heard and deserving of his respect. He knew it was her voice calling him back from death's edge while he was ill. He also knew there was more for her to tell him.

"You are very skilled, "He said, "If you were in my home village you would be greatly honored for your skill and your kindness."

She looked askance. "I seek no special honor or payment for what I do. To witness with me own eyes a wee child become well, or a young man such as yerself returnin' whole and healthy from tha grips of such a horrid fever, is enough for me. I be assured every day of the power of the Almighty. I count me self blessed to be allowed to help and to witness such miracles."

He nodded in understanding and took another spoonful of broth. Unable to wait longer he asked, "Where is Dawn?"

Granny glanced to her husband. Raven fought with his inner demons as he forced his voice to remain calm. "Granny, where is Dawn?"

She twisted a corner of her apron apprehensively "There be somethin' I need to tell to ye, but first I insist that ye finish yer broth."

Grandpa placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mother, ye must tell him."

Granny stiffened her spine, but the sadness was still etched deeply in her features. "I know, but 'e will need his strength to do what comes next, and I will not tell 'im until that broth is down."

Raven picked up the bowl, brought it to his lips and drained it. "Tell me," he growled as he lowered the vessel.

It was if a veil fell from her face as she leaned closer to plead with Raven. "Oh, Mister Raven, ye must find Dawn." She took the bowl and set it aside, so she could come even closer. No longer willing to cover her distress, she placed her small hands on Raven's chest and gazed at him with tearful eyes. "She went to look for you shortly before yer friend brought you 'ere. I 'ave not seen 'er since. Grandpa has asked all 'bout the village, but no one 'as seen 'er. I be consumed with fear for 'er safety."

He tossed back the cover and pulled his legs around to lower them to the floor. The room whirled and he sat there a moment to let the dizziness pass. He was weak…too weak. Refusing to let another moment pass, he pushed himself painfully to his feet. Granny now stood as well, her hands gripped together and tears flowed unchecked down her plump cheeks.

She motioned to a small chest. "Yer colonial clothes, the ones like Dawn was wearing, is on top of your saddlebags. I laundered and mended the others and packed them inside. I knew ye would be going after Dawn and ye would want the more durable garments." She beseeched him with her eyes. "After yer dressed, come to the kitchen. It's just across the hall." With that, she and Grandpa hurried from the room.

Holding his dizziness and its threatening weakness at bay, he slipped on the garments Granny left him. He threw the saddlebags over one shoulder and headed for the kitchen.

Granny hurried toward him with a bundle in her hands. '"Ere are some supplies for the journey and the herb I promised Dawn." She flipped open his saddlebag and stuffed the bundle in. "Now ye go and find Dawn."

He met her gaze. "I will be back to repay your kindness."

"Ye just find Dawn," she pleaded. "And ye must hurry, Raven. She would be finding ye, ye know that. And I be just as sure ye know she would pay any price to keep ye safe."

Raven smiled as he bent to kiss her cheek. Before he straightened, he whispered in her ear, "I do know. You'll see her again soon. I promise."

Chapter Twenty-three

Sara slowly sipped her tea, trying in vain to calm her jangled nerves. Quiet reigned in the kitchen. Both ladies rested in their rooms. Sara had even insisted Cook take a break from her duties long enough to enjoy a few moments with her granddaughter, Theresa.

Now that she was alone and the house had fallen into a semblance of waiting calm, her earlier foolery came back to haunt her. How could she have called Lord Montgomery by his given name? Only in her dreams was she his equal, or he unmindful of their difference in station.

She took another sip and let her mind fill with wondrous dreams that tugged at her heart with the sweetest of longings. Soon after came pains of loneliness and feelings of hopelessness.

"Sara?"

With an audible sigh for what would never be, she turned to Fredrick. "Yes?" One look at his face and she pushed herself up. "What is it?"

"There is a man here. He said his name is Jeremy Thorton. He insists it is most urgent he speaks to Lord Montgomery. With the situation as it is, I didn't feel I should tell him that Lord Montgomery is not available, and with Lady Montgomery ill..."

Sara raised a hand. "I understand." She turned away to hide her concern. She was a lady's maid, not to mention the youngest of the servants and the last to be employed. How did it come to pass that the others turned to her for instruction?

"Sara?"

"Yes, Fredrick?" Stiffing her spine, she turned once again to the butler. "You did the right thing. Is he in the parlor?"

"That is where I asked him to wait. Do you want me to accompany you? He looks the unsavory sort."

"No, I'll be fine. Captain Brown spoke of him yesterday."

"Very well, but I will be just outside the door should you need me.”

"Thank you, I will call out if the need arises." With a quick pat to her bun and a brush to her skirt, she hurried to the parlor.

As she opened the door, Mr. Thorton turned toward her. He was as Fredrick said, unkempt and haggard.

"Hello, Mr. Thorton. My name is Sara. I am Dawn's personal maid. Lady Montgomery is indisposed at the moment. If you will please state your business, I will try to help you."

Sara stood firm as he rushed forward in a most threatening manner.

"Look, little lady," his voice ground out like a carriage wheel over gravel. "I have news of Dawn and I must speak to someone right away."

Sara fought the urge to back away under his harsh appraisal. Dawn would not shy away from such a bullish show of false strength, she reminded herself. What harm was she in? She was safe in Montgomery House with Fredrick waiting just beyond the door.

With as much calm and dignity as she could muster, she answered, "Then I suggest you tell me quickly, Mr. Thorton." At his look of surprise, she pressed on. "Tell me now or I will call in Fredrick. I can guarantee you that you will tell one of us."

He glared down at her as if trying to decide what to do. Would he just leave without confiding in her? She held her breath.

"Very well. Dawn is being held prisoner."

Her breath rushed out. "Are you sure of this?" She gripped her hands as she realized her worst fear.

"Yes, of course, I am. I 'ave seen it with me own eyes," he rushed on. "I was told to keep an eye on her by Captain Brown, and I 'ave done just that. I feared leavin' her long enough to bring this message, but I knew I must let someone know where she was. I've written the location of the warehouse down 'ere." He shoved the piece of paper into her hand.

Sara read the scribbled note. The address was indeed that of a warehouse on the docks. "I will be sending a couple of young men to the warehouse to verify your story. You keep an eye on Dawn." She gazed into his eyes. "I am holding you responsible for her safety. Keep your eyes and ears open and keep a look out for two young street urchins. How long do you expect these people to hold her there?"

"They are using Dawn as bait to get Raven. The sheriff was holding Raven when Dawn was taken from Dunmere. He was accused of stealing a horse. I have no idea if he will be able to break away. I felt it was my duty to stick with Dawn. Now, from what I've overheard from the bastards holding her, the chief is gettin' restless. I fear their plans may change at any moment." "Who is the chief?"

"I can't say. 'E doesn't come to the warehouse. Bein' only myself, I was afraid to leave and follow one of the guards for fear Dawn would be gone when I returned. Even knowing I had to take that risk to come 'ere for help has me afraid that she will be gone when I return."

"Then make haste to get back. Someone will contact you before nightfall. And, Mr. Thorton, be prepared for anything."

"Yes'm, I will be lookin' for the young men you mentioned."

Thorton opened the door and collided with Fredrick. Stepping back quickly, he bobbed and stepped to one side. When Fredrick failed to move, Thorton blustered in impatience. "Move aside, man. I ain't got tha time to play patty cake with the likes o' you." Fredrick stepped casually into the room and Thorton pushed past.

"He's in quite a hurry," Fredrick said to Sara.

"As he should be." As she left the room in a near run, she called over her shoulder, "Please tell Mark in the stables to go fetch Davie and Tom. It's an emergency. He must find my brothers and report to me immediately."

Chapter Twenty-four

Raven walked into the stable where he found the magistrate in deep conversation with the blacksmith. Eyeing Whipple, Raven tossed a gold coin to the smith, who caught it in mid air. "I'm here to collect my horse and I'm in a bit of a hurry."

The hefty man examined the coin, stopping himself just short of clamping down on it with his teeth. "Right away." Pocketing the prize, he hurried off to do Raven's bidding.

The magistrate crossed his arms over his impressive girth. His waddle resembled a plump duck as he shifted his weight to plant his feet firmly in what Raven was sure the man meant to be a show of authority. Unfortunately, for the magistrate, the effect was more comical than authoritative.

"Heard ye were ill. I hope not to hear no untrue rumors 'bout the treatment ye received while in my care."

"Of course not, Whipple. I'm sure, had I collapsed while staying in your residence, you would have been most attentive to my health. As attentive, shall we say, as you were to my lockup?"

The magistrate bristled, but took control of his reaction easy enough. "Aya, 'ere's the smith with yer horse." He put a finger to the tip of his tricorn and nodded briskly. "Good day to ye then. I hope ye find yer way home without difficulty."

"Oh, rest assured, Magistrate. I will find everything I seek without undue difficulty."

"Ur-hum, yes, of course." His features flushed, Whipple cleared his throat and waddled toward the door. "Good day to ye, Smith."

"Good day to ye as well, Magistrate." The smith led Eagle to where Raven waited. "Well, 'ere be your horse, sir. 'E healed quite nicely, 'e did." He patted the horse's neck. "Will there be any thin' else?"

Raven fixed his gaze on the smith. He was pleased to see the effect of his glare reflected in the other's eyes. "Only answers to a few questions." The smith
glanced toward the stable doorway. "I want to know the name of, and where to find, the man who accused me of stealing Sir. Richard's horse."

"I will tell ye the same thing I told that young travelin' companion of yours. I don't know 'is name." The smith stiffened his spine, but took another glance toward the doorway.

Raven looked as well. They were alone.

The smith took a step closer as he lowered his voice. '"E's not from 'round 'ere. Right after 'e made his accusations to the Magistrate, 'e saddled up and said 'e was headed for London. Sir Richard came and collected is horse as soon as 'e heard 'bout it. 'E told the Magistrate 'e wanted the man found, but 'e be long gone by now."

"Did you tell my...brother anything else?"

"Just that ye was locked up safe and sound in the Magistrate's own house. Oh, and one other thing. 'E wanted a description of the scoundrel. I told yer brother the bloke was a small man with a ruddy complexion and hair to match."

The events leading up to his being shot came back to devil him. Could the smith be referring to the same highwayman he and Dawn had dubbed Fox? "Where did my brother go?" he demanded. The heavy cloak of premonition closed in tightly about him.

"I 'aven't seen the lad after that. I can tell ye that Grandpa 'as been lookin' everywhere for 'em. 'E seems to 'ave just disappeared. I'm thinking 'e took off in search 'o the one that stole the Lord's mare. That be four days ago. I'd be a mite worried about the boy meself, but it's gettin' late." The smith nodded toward the door. "You'll not be able to find anything in the dark. Would ye like for me to keep your 'orse one more night?"

Raven snatched the lead rope held firmly in the smithy's grip. "I thank you for your information, but I have at least a couple of hours left of daylight and I intend to make full use of them."

With a touch of annoyance sneaking into his tone, the smith answered, "Very well, sir. It will only take me a moment to saddle 'em up for ye." He stubbornly held onto the rope.

It wasn't Raven's intent to insult the smith who had only been courteous since his and Dawn's arrival. With an effort, he softened his tone. "That won't be necessary. Thank you. I can manage. Just show me where to find my tack."

The smith released the guide rope and pointed at a far wall. "It be right over there. Just help yerself. I trust ye can pick yer own out from the others."

Raven nodded his thanks. He scanned the well-stored, well-organized saddle and tack. In no time Eagle was saddled and ready to go. He rubbed the horse's forehead and scratched his ear. "This will be a hard ride, old boy. I know you want to find Dawn as much as I do." The horse whinnied and threw up his head, then settled his nose back into Raven's hand. "Good boy. We're off then." He gave Eagle one last hefty pat to his strong neck and then painfully swung himself into the saddle.

***

Raven pushed Eagle hard. Just before nightfall, he found the first campsite. Of all the campsites he'd passed, he knew this one was intended to be found by him. He ran his fingers along the chipped bark of the old elm where Dawn had been chained. At its base were stones arranged in the manner of the Cherokee. Clearly Dawn wanted him to know that it was their campsite. He studied the arrangement of small stones. At this point, she must not have known where she was being taken. It was also obvious to him that she was unaware she was the bait.

He walked from the tree to where the fire had been built. Several paces from the fire, back toward the tree, rested another small pile of stones. It was clear to Raven this was as close as Dawn was allowed to come to the camp. Anger stirred in his gut. His little warrior had not been allowed close enough to the fire to feel its warmth. He struggled to control his anger.

He studied the campsite further. It had been several days since they had camped here. He was lucky that no one else had used it. Though the signs were cold, they were everywhere. It was meant that he read them. And read them he did. He could see where the horses had been tied, where Dawn had been dragged away from the second small pile of rocks, and where she had clawed the ground trying to return to them.

By the marks in the soil and loosened grasses, she had fought hard in her effort to reach the message she had left for Raven. He squatted down and read the stones. They were taking her to London, to a place near water. He placed his hands on his head and gripped his hair with tightened fists. He squeezed his eyes shut as he cursed, "Damn, damn, damn!"

A lingering mixture of anger and fear burned in the pit of his stomach. He sought to put himself in her place, to read her thoughts. She must have been crouched here trying to stay warm, listening, hoping to catch some clue as to where they were taking her. What she heard was exactly what they wanted her to hear.

They were taking her to the docks, to a warehouse, no doubt. He resumed his study of the stones and then raised his gaze to study the campsite from Dawn's perspective. Before they left this site, she knew she was nothing more to their plan than bait. She no longer wanted him to find her and so was about to scatter the rocks when her captor drug her to her feet and toward the horses.

She wasn't allowed to ride. She was forced to run behind. No doubt it amazed her captors that she was able to keep up. His chest contracted. At some point, even his Little Warrior would have collapsed. Did they drag her along?

Granny's words echoed in his mind. "And ye must hurry. Raven. She would be finding ye, ye know that. And I be just as sure ye know she would pay any price to keep ye safe. "

Raven growled in rage. He threw back his head as all the pain and guilt flowed from his body in an anguished cry that sent the birds in flight and the forest animals fleeing in fear. All the pain he had suppressed these past years surfaced to torment him. His Little Warrior needed him and he had failed her. Men treated her as an animal. He must find her. The evil men who trapped her would pay.

He sat on the spot where Dawn had rested, but he could not feel her warmth. He touched each stone, rubbed it dry between his fingers.

Tonight he would prepare himself. Tonight he would pray. As Dawn had admonished him not so long ago, he would bare his feet and dance. He would center himself—tomorrow he would find the men who dared take Dawn from him.

***

The dark sky gave way to golden streaks of dawn as Raven waded into the small pond near the campsite. Throughout the night, he'd prayed. He no longer doubted what Dawn had always known. He had been such a fool.

He raised his arms high to the sun and spoke his prayer with strength and purpose. He was ready now for whatever followed. His spirit and his body were one. For the first time in his life, he had no doubt, no fear, not even anger.

With calm efficiency he inventoried his gear. The saddle would stay, as well as the saddlebags and most of their contents. He re-dressed his wound before he pulled on his buckskins and tall moccasins. The herb for Lady Montgomery went into a pouch, which he strung about his neck. He slipped a long knife inside his moccasin and whistled for Eagle.

The horse had not wandered far and answered the call, his muscles quivering in anticipation of the ride he knew was to come.

Raven grabbed a handful of mane and swung himself onto Eagle's back. At the answering pain in his side, he pulled the buckskin aside and looked at the bandage. His wound had pulled open and a red stain slowly spread across the white cloth. He pressed his fingers to the bandage to stem the flow.

Bending low, he spoke to Eagle, "Carry me to the outskirts of London, boy, and then I'll leave you to rest and to graze until I return" He positioned himself and then pressed with his knees. Eagle sprang forward and stretched out. They would be outside London by nightfall.