The Bride of Blackbeard (12 page)

She retracted her hand, from under the
amputee patient’s knee, and held it up in shock and horror. Her
index digit hung dangling by a lone sliver of flesh, and blood
edged down her arm—not pouring, just taking its time.

She staggered backward and tried to get her
father’s attention, but it seemed she’d been momentarily struck
dumb.

“
Stanzy, what are you doing? I have to
finish with the soleus...you know that...” While still speaking he
looked up at her. All of the color emptied from his hazy
face.

“
Oh, poppet. The saw must have slipped,
you did not even cry out. Come here quickly.”

Even as he said it, the patient on the table
began to rouse.

“
Bloody... Maura!” he bellowed. Her
mother came in quickly through the office doors. “Help Constanza,
stitch her up. I have to deal with him or we may lose him.”

~ * ~

She awoke and flexed her left hand, which
was still sans index. She shook her head and let it sit in her
hands while she waited for the fear from the dream to ebb away.
Finally relenting, she dragged herself into the bedroom and joined
Lucian—already snoring quietly—and gave in to desperately needed
sleep.

~ * ~

The afternoon sun's rays were fading.
Wincing with every step, she willed her feet to ascend the steps to
Meg's apartment. In her exhaustion, she’d only just risen,
mortified to have slept the day away. Reaching the landing, she
eyed the huge barrels housing Meg’s water and milk so the house
staff wouldn’t have to make innumerable trips to the estate
kitchen. Meg was rarely left unattended, even for short periods, as
she could be massively destructive. Stanzy maneuvered around them,
and stubbed her toe. Half laughing, half crying, she swallowed the
expletives poised to fall off her lips. Abruptly, she remembered
last night—Meg’s pup lying dead on the step. Now nowhere in sight,
she assumed a house servant had removed it. Had Megan killed
it?

Inside the child’s room, Meg rocked back and
forth by the fireplace, holding her tattered soft doll, mumbling
unintelligible words to herself. She didn’t look up to see who had
entered.

Bess’ huge frame was bent over sweeping what
looked like shards of broken stoneware into a pile.

Stanzy felt her eyes go wide. The apartment
had been ransacked. Dolls lay strewn everywhere—one still
smoldering in the fire—many with the faces chewed off. Meg’s
bedding, all over the floor in a heap, had been shredded into long
yards of material. The draperies, which kept the room dimly lit,
had been pulled from the windows. As a result Meg sat with her eyes
closed.

“Oh, Bess, why didn’t you send for me?”

“It ain’t the first time she done this, Miss
Stanzy. She just been a bit more behaved since you started caring
for her.”

Stanzy glanced up, registered the cut on
Bess’ face. “That will need cleaning.”

“It is fine. See what you can do for my
baby. She been rocking like that for going on two hours now. And
she can’t say a word today.”

Megan’s door swung open and Mrs. Hopkins
swooped into the room, her maidservant scurrying behind. Her beady
eyes swept around, assessing the situation before her.

Those eyes remind me of a hawk searching for
its prey.

“Oh, my word! I go away for a month and the
likes of you think you can slack off your duties to this household.
I will not stand for it! Look at the state of this place!”

Her blue orbs fell to Megan. “She looks
exactly as she did the last time I saw her. What are you doing
during these
lessons
we are paying you to perform?”

Constanza tasted the familiar pungency of
metal in her mouth that she always experienced during feelings of
rage. “When was the last time you saw her, Mrs. Hopkins? I will
have you know your daughter was speaking and using sign language to
convey her wishes! She is progressing in her ability to
communicate. This fiasco you see in front of you is a result of
your
physician’s treatment and trauma. Prior to his visit,
she was doing wonderfully.”

“My husband consulted some important men of
our church in Bath, who believe she may be possessed.”

“
Possessed
? She is ill! She is a very
sick little girl, who is capable of getting better if you just
permit me more time with her.”

“Her physician has made the recommendation
that we put her in the asylum near Bath, which we are considering.
You have a few more months to show me some progress, or she will
have to go.” The woman’s eyes were blue fire, showing no compassion
whatsoever as she scornfully stared at her daughter rocking on the
hearth floor.

Turning on her heel, the mistress of
StoneWater exited the room, slamming the heavy door behind her.

“Evil, wicked, loathsome, stupid creature!”
Stanzy spat and stomped her foot on the floor, grimacing as pain
jolted her injured ankle.

Bess put the broom aside and stared at the
floor in front of her, shaking her head quietly.

Stanzy plopped down onto the rocker. “She
just wants Megan out of here because she is a burden and does not
fit in with her
perfect
southern hospitality home. Oh! Women
should have to have a license to bear children, with compassion
being a prerequisite. There ought to be a test for maternal
instincts! I will not let her go. I will not!” Despite herself, the
tears came and Stanzy wailed out loud, hands hiding her face.

After a few moments, tiny hands pulled at
Stanzy’s and uncovered her face. Meg crawled onto her lap. A
feeling, one fiercer than any she’d ever known, burned in Stanzy’s
chest.

She quietly whispered, “They will have to
kill me first.”

~ Chapter Seven ~

Abernathy Hornigold leaned against a wall in
the alley, and checked his watch for the fifth time this hour.
Finally the door to the bordello opened, and two drunken men weaved
their way into the street, but
not
the man he was seeking.
How long could the wretch be in there? It had to have been three
hours already.

He debated moving his position when the huge
fellow lumbered down the stairs. Two women waved to him from a
second-story window and the marauder wobbled across the street to
his horse tethered to a railing.

Hornigold followed Teache to Hammock House,
once again positioning himself a distance away so as not to be
noticed. The appearance of the man who walked out the door was
astounding. Having gone inside only an hour before, Teache’s hair
was now slicked back, beard all but gone, and the man was smartly
dressed. Hornigold almost wanted to get closer to verify this was
the same man.

Teache disappeared into his carriage. The
driver proceeded down the street and made a turn to the left, where
Hornigold had followed him previously. He guessed Teache was headed
for the Hawthorne’s estate, where he would call on the
governess.

Sure enough he entered the mansion and Abe
waited, biding his time. Teache strode out with a breathtaking,
full-bodied creature adorning his arm. The pair walked down the
front entrance stairs and turned into the garden. Having seen
enough, Hornigold scribbled in his notebook, clucked to his mount
and set out on the road back to Bath.

~ * ~

At three in the morning, Stanzy sat in her
chair by the cottage fireplace, rocking and cradling the blanket
she’d intended to take as a present to Megan before the fiasco when
everything had all gone to pieces.

Uncontrollable tears endlessly spouted from
her eyes as she rocked. After so many years of being stoic at her
dysfunctional home in England, she actually felt safe and free to
express emotions she’d repressed for years.

For so many years I had to be the shoulders
on which all troubles rested—the rock for Mother, and Will and
Katrina. I was the one who had to make it all right, or at least as
normal as possible, after Father had been on a binge. Or be the one
forced to save his reputation as he treated patients intoxicated,
correcting his medication errors. Those days had felt as if they
would never end.

When one’s reality was so grim and it
appeared there was no foreseeable way out, the mind found ways to
survive—it formed little pockets or walls where bad memories could
be locked away, so the conscious mind could function.

Now that she was safe, many walls were
crumbling. Frequently, Constanza found herself weeping alone. It
upset Lucian terribly to see her distraught, so she tried to hide
it from him. One night he discovered her weeping, and, unable to
help, had almost shed tears himself. So, rather than place him in
that position, she suffered alone.

Megan.

What was she going to do about her? She’d
broken a cardinal rule of physician and teacher alike—do not get
emotionally involved—but she loved this little girl, and there was
no turning back. For the first time, she could actually consider
having children of her own. She’d sworn she'd been a mother since
fourteen, and thought that would do, thanks.

I definitely want a child with
Lucian
.

Quickly, she headed into their bedroom,
wiping the tears from her face, and crawled under the covers beside
him. He didn’t stir. She crawled on top of him and kissed him on
the mouth until he woke.

“What’s this?” he asked, slightly confused
and not fully awake.

“You are dreaming, go back to sleep,” she
said as she yanked at his night shirt.

“Well, then, I hope I do not wake up.”

~ * ~

The knock at the door was loud.

Stanzy felt Lucian crawl over her half
sleeping form. She stretched her body as she struggled to awaken.
“Who is it, Lucian?” She looked outside at the darkness and shook
her head.

“I cannot imagine. It must be calm of day,”
was his quiet response.

It took a minute as she used her Outer Banks
to English translation dictionary in her head. “Ah...it must be
five in the morn.”

She searched for something to slide over her
night dress and padded across the cold floor at her husband’s
heels.

Lucian opened the door. Ian Hopkins stood
outside on the stoop. Gone was his jaunty, standing-still bounce.
His countenance was grave.

“May I come in?” he asked almost
inaudibly.

Stanzy watched her husband’s shoulders
loosen as he let down his guard. Justifiably so—Hopkins looked a
man sentenced to the gallows.

“Come in, Ian. Please sit down.”

Stanzy put coffee on to brew. In most
families, the wife would leave the room and allow the men to
discuss important matters. However, to quote Sarah Hopkins: “This
is the most unorthodox marriage I have ever seen!” She sat next to
Lucian at the table and he absently reached for her hand.

He always takes my hand with the deformity.
He does not want people to stare at it. Somehow I know it is not
because he is embarrassed, merely that he wants to protect me from
questions about it. All this I know just by the way he looks at
me.

Lucian
expected
her to be involved in
all important decisions. “What is going on?” he prompted Ian.

“Pardon my early intrusion, but several
important matters have come up that need to be handled with haste.
My wife and I have decided Megan is to be moved, in the next
fortnight, to an asylum near Bath.” Then addressing Stanzy, he
said, “I wanted to be sure our arrangement with you as governess
for the boys is still intact. I know Lucian and you plan to move to
your own homestead after the end of this season.”

His eyes didn’t resemble his wife’s vacant
stare. Quite the contrary, the level of sadness in them was almost
difficult to gaze upon. He cast them to the tabletop while uttering
this rehearsed speech. Stanzy couldn’t help but think that this
wasn’t his idea.

You weak fool! Do not listen to that shrew
of a wife!

“Please sir, do not send her away. Prior to
the physician’s visit, she was doing so well! We even heard her
speak!”

Ian Hopkins’ head shot up so fast it
startled her. ”Impossible. It is cruelty to even suggest such a
thing to me! I have not heard her speak since she was one year
out—”

Lucian interrupted. “It is true, Ian. I
heard her as well. Stanzy is making great strides with her. But she
and I need more time.”

Ian’s eyes darted back and forth between the
two of them like a frightened animal. “Really, she spoke...what did
she say?”

“She sang a song, a lullaby.”

Eyes watery pools, he stood, walked to the
door and stared out the window. His unblemished hands absently
rubbed the back of his neck.

He turned back. “All right. I will do what I
can with Sarah. She is intent that the asylum is best for Megan,
but I will tell her this news.”

Under the table, Lucian gently squeezed
Stanzy’s fingers in an attempt to restrain her mouth. He knew her
so well and could imagine what would blurt out after hearing this
proclamation.

“There is something else—one of the slaves
is very ill and in need of medical attention. I have sent for the
doctor, but I believe he is currently out of town. I was hoping you
would go and look in on the slave quarters and make an assessment
of the situation.”

“Yes, of course, straightaway.” Bidding Mr.
Hopkins goodbye, she hurried to the bedroom and began to dress.
From behind the closed door she heard Lucian.

“I will be taking Stanzy to Nags Head within
a fortnight to meet my aunt. As we married in haste, she was not
able to meet my family. Can you manage for a bit without me?”

“Of course, Lucian. Take your time.
Everything will be here waiting when you return. Go and enjoy your
wife. She is a remarkable young woman.”

~ * ~

The ship was sinking.