The Bride of Blackbeard (6 page)

When he opened the door she sucked in her
breath as she entered a beautifully designed and decorated cottage.
Small desks were aligned in front of a larger desk for her use. A
few seemingly misplaced items lay about, such as ropes, and of
course, the standard switch. But one sight made her look twice—a
chain attached to one of the walls.

She could only surmise that maybe animals
were once housed here, before they made it into the
schoolhouse
.

“This is wonderful. I am sure I will be able
to accomplish much with the children. Lucian, is your boy to attend
as well?”

He nodded. “Yes. I have an arrangement with
Mr. Hopkins. Guess you could say he inherited me with the farm.
Mrs. Hopkins’ father, Mr. Kirkaldy, used to own it before he passed
on. When Sarah married Ian Hopkins, her father gave him several
conditions he had to fulfill in order to gain possession of the
plantation. My request that Ben be educated was one of them. Mr.
Kirkaldy had only daughters, no male heirs.”

“I see. How old is Ben?”

“He is nine years out.”

Here I go. Best to call him on it now.

She looked him dead in the eye and said,
“His mother must be thrilled that he will have an education as
well.”

“His mother is dead. She died of smallpox
when Ben was three years old.”

Constanza felt the blood drain from her face
and surmised she was as white as the cotton bobbing outside on the
breeze. She reached over and placed her hand on his. “I am so
sorry, I had no idea. I lost both my parents and have been caring
for my brother and sister since I was sixteen. You have done a
wonderful job. Ben seems very happy.”

“He is a blessing, one of the few I have
had.” He turned away from her, checking the sky. “We had better
head back to the manor as it is almost time for you to meet with
Hopkins.”

As they walked to the manor, Stanzy kept
stealing glances at him from out of the corner of her eye.
My
word he is dark and beautiful. I cannot believe I am acting this
way. I detest silly women who act this way
…

Although she waited into the evening for the
summons to see Mr. Hopkins, it never transpired. She also wanted
desperately to inquire of the chains in the schoolhouse, but
decided to wait for a more opportune time. One thing for certain,
she didn’t want to offend her new employer.

~ * ~

Constanza’s eyes popped open from a deep
sleep.

There it was agai
n—screams from
upstairs
.

She sat up in bed, and guessed it was about
four in the morning.

Bang! Bang!

Fully awake, she kicked off her covers and
rushed to the window. Sure enough, throwing his overcoat over his
bare chest, Lucian bolted through the swirling wind toward the
house again. Throwing open the window and thrusting her head out,
she craned her neck to see the floor above. The only thing she
could see was a flickering light, most likely from a lantern inside
the room.

Constanza padded to the door and with her
ear to the wood listened for Lucian's footsteps. It wasn’t a long
wait; she heard him as he hurriedly climbed the stairs. He passed
her door on the way to the steps to the third floor.

Enough of this nonsense, she thought. She
flung the door open and hastened quickly behind him on the steps.
As his forearm raised to knock, she took hold of it, causing him to
startle.

“Lucian, what is going on? Who is making all
that noise? Is someone hurt? I told you I have been trained as a
healer, let me help.”

“He did not tell you, did he? The bloody
coward. Well, this is not how I would have told you, Constanza, but
come. Meet your other pupil.”

~
Chapter Three
~

Lucian's eyes welled with tears. The
care-worn expression on his face led her to believe he'd been
dealing with whatever was behind the door for a very long time.

Stanzy's stomach lurched in response to a
gruesome sight. In the middle of the room was a tiny girl, probably
no more than five. Bright dark eyes met hers and locked. Long brown
locks tumbled down her tiny back in waves. However, on closer
inspection, large matted clumps interwove throughout the curls.
Only the fur of alley cats back in Bristol could compete with these
malignant tangles.

The child’s back extended to extreme as a
scream as shrill as any banshee escaped her lips. Thrashing
forward, her head gave a sickening crunch on the desk in front of
her. When she raised it, an angry red welt rose to a lump on her
forehead. Tied onto a chair, the girl stopped flailing momentarily
to look at who had entered the room. Ropes restrained her torso to
the chair, which now rocked violently, threatening to tip with each
flagellation of her tautly wound body.

Her head rocked purposefully toward Bess,
who knelt beside her. Eyes blazed with hatred at her own
miscalculation as Bess moved out of the way of the head butting.
Walloping her head on the back of the chair, her eyes grew dimmer
with each successful blow.

Whap! Whap!

“Oh, my.” Constanza rushed to the girl’s
side and attempted to restrain the wild child, to no avail. The
tiny body gave another great arch as she struck the final blow.
Blood poured from the back of her scalp, drowning curls and clumps
of hair alike.

Bess emitted a low, keening cry, removed the
child’s restraints and held a wet cloth to the back of her head.
Gently lifting her from the chair, the girl seemed to disappear in
the old woman’s embrace.

“I will put her to bed, Miss. She will be
all right now. You come back tomorrow, and me and you—we have a
good talk about this little one.”

Turning, Constanza locked eyes with Lucian,
his hand partially covering his face. She caught sight of the track
of a single tear before he wiped it away, “She is very sick,
Stanzy.”

Constanza followed him down the stairs and
into the kitchen. She set coffee to boil. Soon the aromatic scent
of the fresh brew permeated the kitchen. Constanza filled and
handed Lucian a steaming mug, then sat beside him. “Please, Lucian,
tell me everything.” The sun would be rising soon and with it all
of their responsibilities.

Lucian dragged a rough hand across his face.
He heaved a sigh. “She has been this way since she was about one
year out. Sometimes, she is like an animal—biting, kicking,
spitting. When that queerness takes her, she will try to hurt you
if she gets the chance. When she was almost two, things got even
worse. That was when her mother and father quit going upstairs to
see her anymore.”

“They what?”

“Yeah. They have not seen her in over three
years. The Hopkinses are people with little patience for regular
folk, let alone sick ones. They have set Bess to care for her, and
a long string of governesses, I’m afraid.”

Constanza nodded, the pieces of the puzzle
fitting together in her mind. “No wonder they permitted me to bring
my brother and sister; they were desperate.”

“Yes, I imagine they were. Most folks round
here know about her, so I reckon that is why they needed to write
to England to find you.”

“Are you related to her, Lucian? I see you
going up there each time she is in a rage.”

“No, but I cannot bear to think of her alone
with only Bess, who God knows loves and cares for her the best she
can. But she knows me, and when she has a good day, she has even
let me hold her, but it doesn’t last. She cannot talk and she
cannot control herself.”

“All right. I will need to be close to her
to assess how deep the damage runs within her. And I swear I will
try and do my best to improve her life. The first thing we need to
do is get her out of that room.”

“I do take her sometimes, but I have to be
careful. She tries to run away, and she is very strong as you saw.
She has no comprehension of danger. Her parents do not know that I
take her out of her prison, so I am trusting you not to divulge my
secret. When I saw you out in the sea being almost mommicked to
death, I somehow knew you were a different type of woman.”

“Many men find me too boyish,” she said
flatly.

Her hands were sitting on the table in plain
sight. Without a second glance, he chose to take her left hand, the
one with the deformity.

“I like a woman who thinks for herself.” His
gaze was unblinking. “Thank you. I could really use some help with
the child. Her name is Megan.”

~ * ~

Constanza stared down at the servants’ table
that evening, lost in thought. It had been a long day, since they’d
been up before dawn. She couldn’t understand the happy disposition
of all those gathered. Vaguely, she heard talk of rumrunners in the
area and pirates sabotaging merchant ships on their way into the
outer banks of the state. She smiled as Kitty and Will sat,
unmoving, entranced at Alfonse’s news of the pirates from his visit
to Bath. Pirates had infiltrated the peace-loving villages and
smuggled rum into the area. But all these rumors seemed mindless
and silly tonight. All
she
could think of was the scene
she’d witnessed earlier.

Megan.

In all my years of assisting with amputees,
plague and influenza, I never saw anything that resembles what
afflicts her. What is it? A brain fever? I always know, but I do
not know this.

From down the table, Lucian sat also
uninvolved in the conversation. He merely stared, his deep brown
eyes fixated on her, his fingers interlaced before his mouth. If
she didn’t know his kind disposition, the intensity of his stare
might frighten her. She fidgeted in her chair.

I have never had a man look at me like he
does. His eyes follow my every move. And yet he does not speak. I
long to know what is in his head.

Lucian’s eyes never left her until the
servants began to depart from the table.

Constanza walked out to the pizzer, as these
people called their porch, and sat on the swing.

The clomp of Lucian's approaching bootfalls
sent chills rippling up her back. He placed his hand on her
shoulder. “Mebbe we should move your quarters. I sincerely doubt
you will get any rest below Meg’s room.”

She guessed many would see the touches he
bestowed on her as inappropriate, but she didn’t care.

All I can hear is my heart beating in my
ears when he touches me.

Indeed, she found herself longing for him to
touch her more. It seemed he took every opportunity he could to
graze her hand, or the small of her back. Many times she thought
she felt his hand trembling. Like her own legs.

Dropping her head back to look up at him,
she said, “I would need to discuss that with Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins.
It has been two weeks and they have not mentioned Megan to me as
yet. They have only spoken of their expectations for Lucas.”

As he laced his fingers into her hair, she
licked her dry lips and felt as if she might swoon. She swallowed
hard before she continued. “I intend on dealing with it tomorrow.
Why were you smiling in the kitchen this morning?”

His lips turned up and he hung his head. She
was certain, if there were more light, she would have been able to
see red on his cheeks again.

“There is a tale that says when two people
see a ladybug at the same time, they are destined to be
together.”

“Really?”

“Really...”

She felt remorse as his fingers disengaged
from her hair. The interlude was lost in the noise of the gaggle of
boys that had made their way onto the porch.

~ * ~

“I have heard rumors, Constanza, that you
have already made Megan’s acquaintance.”

Ian Hopkins' slight frame and billowy white
shirt usually made his appearance quite harmless. But today, pale
blue eyes beneath his furrowed brow were barely perceptible from
where he stood behind his massive desk.

“Yes, sir. I have only seen her one time so
far. I apologize for not telling you. It was purely by accident. As
I am certain you know, my room is directly below hers, and she is
up most nights ‘til sunrise, so I couldn’t help, but—”

“Yes, she is quite mad, I am afraid. A
hopeless case. We are still trying to determine whether she is
possessed or insane. I assure you that she has the very best
physician and clergyman available. What I expect of you, is to try
to make her more civilized, if possible. I would expect you to
conduct private sessions in her room. She requires lessons in
proper behavior, which come naturally to a normal child, such as
learning to sit at a table to eat, how to use utensils. By the last
report, I heard she still uses her hands to feed herself, and
throws her fork and spoon with deadly accuracy.”

You pompous
dandy!

Stanzy's insides quivered with rage and she
swallowed the bile in her mouth. Pain shot through her hands as her
fingernails dug into her palms. She struggled to master her rage
and the chastisement that threatened to spill from her lips.

“I do not believe she is insane or
possessed, sir. I believe she is
ill
. I have been trained as
a healer and a physician’s helper, as you know from my Uncle
Delvin’s letters. I will do my best to do all for Megan that I
can.”

Hopkins winced at the sound of her name,
which Stanzy had never heard him utter. He referred to her only as
my daughter
. “Yes, very well. You are to meet with me
monthly and discuss how my son’s lessons are progressing as we have
discussed—math, French, writing and reading.”

After their meeting, Constanza walked
outside and inhaled deeply of the morning air in an attempt to calm
herself. She stomped down to the area she’d begun to clear for her
herb garden. Kneeling, she began mentally planning the rows for
each plant. Lost in thought, she startled when she heard a low,
male voice.