The Bride of Blackbeard (23 page)

He lagged behind as the carriage he followed
lumbered its way around the bend, stopping in a wooded area with a
winding brook in view.

“Oh no, the scalawag. Does he mean to merely
rape the governess or kill her, too?” he asked himself, aware that
he’d been acting alone and clandestinely far too long. “Why she
cannot be as old as my eldest daughter. I shall not stand by and
watch this.”

He observed Teache and the young woman amble
down the path into the woods, talking quietly—too quietly for him
to hear—and laughing. Keeping out of sight, he followed them for a
quarter of a mile, losing sight of them in an attempt to remain
undetected.

“Blast! Where did you go?”

Then he saw them, on a blanket by the
clearing, and, by the looks of the situation, about one breath’s
moment from a loss of chastity. He dug his heels into his horse and
slammed down the trail, intentionally breaking every branch in his
wake.

Mission accomplished.

He watched Teache scramble off fair lady,
and the look of horror on her young face was perfect—hopefully
perfect enough to bring her to her senses!

“Good day, sir! I hope I did not disturb you
and your wife? I thought I heard a gunshot from this area and I was
just investigating its source.”

Teache all but glowed with fury. He stood up
to his full height and glared at Hornigold, certain if fair lady
wasn’t sitting nearby, he would already be dead. Indeed, he may
still be dead despite her presence.

“I heard no such shot. I suggest you be on
your way, sir. And let my wife and me enjoy our day together.”

Hornigold urged the horse forward, fully
realizing he may have compromised his mission. But as he watched
the girl gather up the blanket and her skirts, then walk back up
the trail, he knew it had been worth it.

He’d stopped the naive from sleeping with
the devil himself.

~ * ~

The puppy squirmed fitfully, trying to break
her hold on it, and Constanza worried it was going to kill itself
if she dropped it down the stairs.

“Stop it. Hold still,” she chastised,
attempting to kick open the door to Megan’s apartment. The child
lay in her bed, the covers over her head, as she’d been from the
previous day. No words had been spoken for many days by their
beautiful little one, but Constanza was bound and determined to
pull them out of her today.

Stanzy sat on the end of the bed and bounced
up and down on it wordlessly.

Megan peeked out from beneath the covers and
squinted at her.

Encouraged, Constanza scrambled upright on
the bed and jumped gleefully up and down, laughing as she did so.
Finally, despite herself, Megan started to laugh. Then she, too,
stood on the bed and jumped alongside Stanzy.

“There is my girl!”

Constanza then brought the puppy from the
other room and sat him on Megan’s lap. Megan stroked the dog in
hard even strokes and—eyes shifting to Stanzy then back at the
puppy—began to laugh again.

“Dog,” Stanzy said and simultaneously
performed the sign.

“Dog.” Meg parroted.

“Wahoo!” Constanza whooped as she twirled
around in circles, reminding herself of a game she used to play as
a child where she would spin until she could spin no more. She
refused to believe the girl possessed any malice as she watched her
stroke the new pup.

~ * ~

Edward Teache rode his horse hard. Sweat
streamed off her flanks despite the cold weather. Once he reached
town, he dismounted in front of the saloon, pushing his way through
the dark smoky crowd to the bar. He was no fool and knew the near
mishap the other day with Miss Katrina had been no accident. A
careless fool followed him, but he had no idea who, or why. And he
was good and tired of that farmer as well. He’d tried to be
discreet, but when that failed... well...it wouldn’t be the last
time he’d had to take what he wanted by force.

Whoever was following him, though, could be
certain that if they met in an alley, it would be the end for him.
It had nearly cost him his betrothal to Katrina. She was his
favorite betrothed so far, second only to her sister.

~ * ~

“Stanzy, I am not going. I will tell Hopkins
this is not an appropriate time for me to be traveling to port.”
Lucian chewed his lower lip and gazed out the window into the
fields.

She noticed the early morning light betrayed
the slight trace of crow’s feet forming around her beloved’s
eyes.

“Too much has transpired,” he added.

“You worry too much,” she replied. “Do not
be vexed. The boys and I will be fine.”

“I cannot put my finger on it. I just do not
feel right leaving you. It is as if 'round every corner trouble is
waiting to pounce on us.”

She slipped up behind him and laid her head
against his back. “True, we have endured many unforeseen
circumstances, but surely Providence will permit us space to
breathe. You will not be tempted beyond what you can bear,” she
teased.

She felt the broad strength in his back
relax. “Ah. Well, I am sure someone as headstrong and utterly
impossible as you can mind herself and the lads. I acquiesce. I
will be back in a month. If anything untoward happens, send post to
the port and I will be back as fast—”

In one quick movement, she placed a finger
to his lips to silence him, then wrapped her arms around him.
Momentarily, all else in the world faded away.

“Pa, when will you be back?” Ben and Will
burst through the door, returning from the barn.

“Manners, boys,” Lucian scolded
halfheartedly. “Soon. You watch over your mom and the farm. I am
counting on you. You know where all the muskets are kept?”

“Yes, Pa.”

Lucian quickly left the kitchen after
ruffling the hair on the boys’ heads.

Later, Stanzy sat on the back porch and
stared out into the woods. The uneasy feeling had tripled since
Lucian departed for the ports to conduct his business exchanges.
Recently she felt the line between reality and her memories of
childhood was beginning to blur.

From infancy she’d believed all the tales of
the magical creatures her mother remembered from her Irish descent,
passed on from generation to generation. Then the days of her
father had begun, making her mindset change drastically to one of
extreme realism.

Her father had been fiercely pragmatic, so
much so that it had drowned out every bit of creativity Stanzy had
inherited from her mother. She’d forgotten all about fairies,
except for the precious few times she’d told Kitty and Will some of
their mother’s stories when they were tiny.

With the history of mental illness in her
family, and the recent jaunts of her mind to her troubled past, she
was seriously beginning to question her sanity. First, the
appearance of the Dollahan in the fields, and then the possible
changeling she’d delivered. It was as if her Irish past were
invading her mind and insisting she acknowledge it.

The forest captured her attention as she
spied an odd multitude of fireflies. Exquisitely lighting up the
cypress trees, the beetles danced in a choreographed pattern that
resembled a smattering of stars across a darkened sky. The sheer
number of them made it impossible to look away.

She sucked in breath through her teeth, then
froze. A flame streaked through the swarm of fireflies, whisking
through their gathering like a comet. Jack, sitting beside her on
the porch, rumbled low in his chest; his hackles rising in warning
at the sight of the flame.

“Sit, Jack!”

He barked his displeasure and took off for
the brush toward the suspended fire.

She charged after him. An ominous feeling
rose in her chest, intuition screamed this might not be a wise
choice.

Jack had entered the mouth of the woods and
had been swallowed whole.

“Jack!” She pelted headlong into the trees,
searching wildly for him. The dog was nowhere to be found, and
neither was the source of the mysterious fire.

As quietly as possible, she picked her way
through the underbrush, all the while scanning and listening with
her whole body for any signs of Jack.

Where are you? Why does everything have to
happen the moment Lucian leaves StoneWater's lands?

Movement flashed at the corner of her eye,
and she whipped her head around in time to see a whisk of flame
disappear over an embankment. She picked up her pace, heading in
the direction where she’d seen the light. The air developed a
surreal quality, and she was surrounded. The fireflies swarmed into
the woods. Thousands of them flickered on and off, forming a
lighted net all around her. When she tried to walk toward the
direction of the flame, they would swarm and impede her
progress.

As if struck dumb, she stood wondering if
she’d indeed stepped into one of the enchanted forests from her
childhood readings.

Finally, she relented and turning on her
heel, headed in the opposite direction. The swarm broke apart with
her decision. Hurrying down the alternate path, it parted,
permitting her to quicken her pace.

Jack lay sprawled on the ground, his foot
wedged between two abnormally large tree roots. By its grossly
twisted angle, she knew his foot was broken.

Snap.

The breaking branch sounded so close the
hairs on her neck rose in alarm. Someone, or something, was in the
woods. Watching them.

Snap, snap, snap.

Footsteps echoed in the forest, crashing
through the brush without any attempt at surprise.

Pulling at Jack’s foot, she tried to
dislodge it from the woody trap. He let out a great yelp and
struggled to stand, making it more difficult for her to free
him.

“Stop it, Jack!” She pulled again at his
paw, aware the snapping drew nearer. The underbrush was breaking
faster.

“Release
him!”
she yelled at the
root. Yanking with all her strength, the twisted brambles parted to
free his foot. In disbelief, she shook her head and hoisted the
Sheep dog over her shoulders, dashing for the forest exit.

Leaping over a log, her toes tangled in its
branches and she plummeted to the ground.

The sound,
snap, snap
, drew ever
nearer.

“Will!” Stanzy screamed in desperation from
her position on the ground. She struggled to stand with the dog
atop her shoulders.

Will’s voice then penetrated her
conscience.

“Stanzy, where are you?” His voice trembled
in fright.

“Will! Get the musket!”

Legs burning as she ran pell-mell for the
opening in the trees, she forced herself to keep running, despite
the weight of the dog. A blow to her head caused her to lose her
footing again, and although careening forward, she managed to stay
on her feet. A low undercurrent of sound arrived, and out of
nowhere a hailstorm struck with gale force winds.

Breaking free from the forest into the
grassy clearing,
its
ragged breathing came in spurts close
behind her. She ran on, not chancing a glance; sure that a glimpse
of its face would push her to madness.

A shot rang out. Will stood on the porch,
aiming toward the woods to her left.

“Run!” he yelled as he let another charge
fly.

At last reaching the porch, she collapsed,
laying the dog at Will’s feet. She whipped around to see the
creature, but the only thing she saw were the fireflies once
again.

“Did you see what it was?” she asked Will
anxiously.

“No. But its shadow had almost overtaken you
when you reached the grass.” He put his arms around her, and
unsteadily said, “Stanzy?”

Following his gaze she stared into the sky.
There was no hail to be seen anywhere, but there were frogs.

Everywhere.

They hopped through the hail that had
previously fallen in the cottage yard, and littered the steps. The
rain barrel overflowed with their slimy bodies that tumbled out in
macabre freefalls from all its sides.

Croaking filled the air surrounding the
cabin and she hugged Will tightly to her, wishing she’d
never
read a fairie tale in her life.

~ * ~

The days crawled by. Stanzy sat in her
rocker by the fire.

Ridiculous. He is just a man. You are fine
without him. Stop dwelling on him—on his smell and on his broad
back. Stop it! He will be home soon.

Never had she permitted someone to know her
so fully—for herself. Except Will of course. She pushed away the
thoughts of a colorless life with Lucian. His fiasco with the
foreign beauty gave her a glimpse of what life could return to, and
the feelings left in its wake were cold and terribly lonely. An
ache that started in her womb and spread to her chest engulfed her.
She longed for a child with him, so that part of them would always
be together.

She hoisted herself from the rocker, took a
deep breath, and rallied to the task of teaching Megan. She grinned
at the thought of her. Over the past two weeks she’d been able to
take her out of her room several times, all without incident.
First, she took her horseback riding, which Megan loved, and
elicited so much language that Stanzy began keeping a medical
record of her advancements. Twice she accompanied Stanzy to sup at
the servants’ kitchen table—without her parents’ knowledge of
course—and actually requested simple items she desired without
tantrums or violence. Her signs were so fast and furious Stanzy
often had trouble keeping up with the conversation.

Stanzy walked through the courtyard, the
cold November wind cutting through her shawl. Fear bit at her gut
with the thought of Meg's fate if she ever left the governess
position at StoneWater. Someday Lucian might want to leave for
another county, that is if he ever decided to come back home to
her. But she didn’t think she could bear to leave Meg, nor she
knew, could Lucian. Megan was the primary reason Lucian had
remained at StoneWater. That and the fact he was owed thirty acres
bequeathed to him by the late, great Mr. Kirkaldy. Mrs. Hopkins’
father, Theodore Kirkaldy, had cherished Lucian from boyhood, even
over his two daughters, whom he had regarded as silly and
insensible creatures.