The Bride of Blackbeard (7 page)

“Constanza, darlin’, I never figured you for
a farmer. You seemed much more at home on me sloop than with your
hands buried in the dirt.”

Her head shot upright, knocking her off
balance. She bit her lip as her bottom hit the ground.

Edward Teache towered over her, his massive
frame completely blotting out the sun. She shivered in his shadow.
Power seemed to emanate from his person.

“Good day, Mr. Teache. Here for business
again?” She struggled to keep her voice from cracking.

Look him in the eye. Do not let him know he
frightens you.

“Aye, call me Edward, Miss. Hadn’t we
already spent an entire voyage across the seas together? Surely for
a man and a woman, that means somethin’?”

There is something odd about his eyes.
Something...dead.

“All right, Edward it is, then.” Her mind
replayed the sounds of musket fire ringing in her ears. Women’s
muffled cries from up on deck flitted in and out of her
consciousness. This wasn’t a man to be trifled with, and she was no
fool.

“Would you care to take a turn with me then?
Or better yet, how about a ride to Beaufort, to me new home? ‘Tis
called Hammock House, and is along a beautiful creek—Taylor Creek.
I have been thinking it is time I settle down. Been out to sea all
me life. So what do you say? Is a ride to Beaufort in order then?”
He extended his huge hand to help her up out of the mud.

“I am sorry, but that will not be possible,
sir. You see, Miss Smythe is expected to begin the children’s
lessons in less than an hour.” From out of nowhere Lucian appeared,
his face pinched in an expression she hadn’t seen in him
before—anger.

Teache, at six four, was taller than
Lucian’s six foot frame. Lucian’s face muscles were taut with
determination.

“Blackwell.” Teache spoke his name as a
curse word. "I was not aware you are Constanza’s employer. Perhaps
I will go and see if Hopkins might part with his governess for a
few days?”

“You do that.” Lucian abruptly grabbed
Stanzy’s hand, yanked her to a standing position, and half dragged
her in the direction of the schoolhouse.

Once they were out of Teache’s sight, he
jerked her roughly to him and spoke with some urgency. “Stanzy, he
is a very dangerous man. Do not be fooled by his charms, he—”

She touched her finger to his lips to quiet
him, then placed her mouth to his, silencing him completely. Never
in her life had she pushed herself on a man, but she couldn’t seem
to help doing so with this one. His quiet and sincere ways were
foreign and too incredibly appealing to her. He kissed her back
with such passion, he frightened her.

When their lips parted, his forehead rested
against hers for a moment. He didn’t speak.

“I am not fooled by Edward Teache, Lucian.
Nor am I interested in any sort of a man such as he. I prefer a
true character to one of bravado and show.” She smiled, her eyes
focusing on something beyond him.

“What?” he said quietly.

“I beg you, look there.”

He followed her pointing finger. Behind him,
a wall teemed with movement. Thousands of ladybugs crawled and flew
on and around the window sill.

“I will go ‘round up the lads for you,” he
said and turned to walk away from her. Then he glanced at her over
his shoulder and awarded her with a smile that permeated his entire
face. The brittle enclosure surrounding her heart shattered in a
million pieces.

I am sure I have never met a man like him in
all of my days. ‘Tis over for me. I will never be satisfied with
anyone but him.

~ * ~

After the daily lessons were finished, she
ambled into the manor’s entryway in time to catch the tail end of a
spirited conversation.

“Oh yes, Ian. It would be marvelous to have
another woman along on our trip to Beaufort and Bath.”

Katrina was standing next to Mrs. Hopkins,
positively shaking with delight. “Oh, Stanzy!” her sister called
when she caught sight of her. “Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins have asked me
to go on their trip into the towns? You will not mind if I go, will
you?”

The man of the manor stood, rocking back and
forth with self-importance on his high-heeled boots. He turned to
fix his collar in the mirror. Constanza was reminded of a peacock
pruning its feathers.

“Mr. Hopkins, are you sure Katrina will not
be any trouble?”

“No, no. I daresay she will keep Mrs.
Hopkins well occupied. When she travels with me on business, she
finds it very dull indeed.”

With their common interests in the latest
fashion trends from abroad, Katrina and Mrs. Hopkins had become
fast friends. Neither had the slightest interest in plantation
life. Even Ian Hopkins seemed to take every possible opportunity to
travel to the larger towns. Stanzy wondered if he had any idea what
was occurring in his fields, at any time. Or even what
crops
he grew.

“If you are certain, it will be all right,
then,” she said, still unconvinced this trip would end well. Her
high-strung greyhound of a sister wasn’t easily leashed.

“I have to go gather my bags!” Katrina flew
up the stairs, petticoats and frills trailing behind her.

Oh my word. She is so impetuous. At least
that is a constant
.

“Please watch her carefully, Mr. Hopkins.
Katrina is a bit...careless.”

~ * ~

Megan sat cross-legged in the corner of her
room, her eyes closed. Her room was elegantly furnished with a
four-poster canopy bed and polished hardwood floors. Dolls were
strewn about everywhere.

“A perfect prison,” whispered Constanza.

Signs of mental instability were evident
everywhere. Most dolls’ faces had been chewed off or broken; chairs
with ropes on them accompanied each table. A single tiny chair with
ropes sat facing the window. Stanzy swallowed hard, staring at the
solitary chair, as if it personified this solitary little girl.

Several items she’d never seen before were
strewn about. Large pins and many sharp metal objects were housed
on a shelf far above Megan’s reach. But for all the room’s
elegance, noticeably absent was a lack of decoration, presumably
because Bess realized Megan would break objects or use them as
weapons on herself or other unsuspecting persons.

On her hands and knees, Stanzy crawled
toward Megan who sat hunched in the corner. The girl put her hands
over her eyes and tried to bury her face into her legs.

When she got to within five feet of her,
Megan began to growl. Deep guttural vibrations echoed in the quiet
room. But Stanzy wasn’t frightened; in fact, the noises sounded so
forlorn to her that she was motivated to keep crawling.

From the other room, she heard Bess whisper,
“She not too smart is she?”

She picked a doll up from the floor and
said, “Hello, Meg. I am Stanzy.”

Without warning, Megan vaulted onto Stanzy's
chest, knocking her to the floor. Her tiny fingers ripped at
Stanzy’s face like talons. The girl’s fingernails were so long,
they curled over the tips of her fingers.

Bess opened the door, but Stanzy screamed,
“I am fine. Leave us.”

Stanzy flipped Meg off and rolled, pinning
her little arms. She whispered into her ear, “I know you understand
me. You are just a little girl—a scared, angry little girl.”

Megan’s little body slumped, her struggling
faded to whimpers.

“I am going to let you go, but you cannot
scratch me again, do you understand?”

Releasing her, the child curled into an
unmoving ball, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Constanza stood and
went around the room closing all the drapes. She began to light
candles, high up, so Megan couldn’t reach them.

After a time, Meg finally opened her eyes
and really looked at her for the first time.

Stanzy stood by the drapes, and she split
them slightly to let a sliver of light into the dark bed chamber.
Meg howled in pain and covered her eyes.

“She is photophobic!” Stanzy cried
triumphantly.

“What are you talking about?” came the
muffled reply from behind the adjacent door.

Stanzy stuck her head in and said to Bess,
“From now on, ‘til I tell you otherwise, the only light in Meg’s
room is to be candlelight. Keep her curtains closed at all times,
understand?”

“All right,” Bess said. “If you think it
will help her, I will run outside nekked if you say so.”

They both burst out laughing.

Stanzy walked through the room and her eyes
froze on a small glass bottle on the mantel.

“Bess, is this belladonna?”

“Yes, ma’am. Her mother instructed us to
give it to her each night so’s she would finally get some
sleep.”

“Yes, well, in excess, it causes
photophobia.” She was met with a blank stare. “It makes light
painful to her eyes,” she explained to Bess.

“Oohh. My poor baby.”

Stanzy was relieved to see Lucian wasn’t the
only person at the manor who cared for this child.

“It is probably the reason Megan cannot
tolerate going outside as well. Do not give it to her again.”

Bess nodded her understanding.

Constanza sat in front of the little girl,
who was now looking up at her from her prone position on the
carpet. The girl was dressed in just a shift, no socks or boots of
any sort.

“What about her clothes? Surely they have
given her clothes, with the opulence of this place?”

Bess strode over to the closet and flung it
open to reveal an overwhelming array of dresses, in all shapes and
colors. “Oh she has lots of dresses. But she won’t keep anything on
‘cept that little undergarment. We have to keep washing it over and
over. She tears the dresses to shreds if you put them on her.”

“Hmm.” Stanzy continued to sit in front of
Meg and laid on the floor two blocks Lucian had carved and painted
in vibrant colors.

She pointed to each block. “Red. Blue.” All
the while, Meg kept eye contact with her.

“Red.” Stanzy repeated as she pointed to the
block, and this time brought her hand up and added a sign language
motion of her hand while she said it. She followed the same
pointing and a slightly different hand motion for the blue
block.

“What you doin’, Miss Stanzy?”

“It is called sign language. We use it to
speak to the deaf. Surely you have met at least one deaf
person?”

“No.”

“The hand movements take the place of
words.”

While she explained this to Bess, Meg
reached up, grabbed Stanzy’s hand and shook it back and forth.

Bess gasped. “She never touches no one. We
have to hold her down to bath her and brush that mane of hair. And
sometimes her fingernails get so long, they cut into her palm.”

Constanza nodded to Bess, then turned back
to Megan and repeated the signs and words together. Megan stared at
her, but made no attempt to sign. Reaching down, Stanzy placed her
hand over the girls when— Whack!

How did she fool me into that?

Pain like she’d seldom felt blazed above her
eye and blackness threatened to suck her into it. From a distance
she heard Bess yell. “Go get Lucian! Meg done her favorite trick on
Miss Stanzy.”

A lifting sensation came over her. Next, her
hands and feet felt softness all about her—a swaddling feeling.
Opening her eyes, she realized she was on Megan's bed. Dear Lucian
stood watching her and she gave him a gentle smile. He sank down on
the bed beside her, his dark eyes filled with concern. He held out
his hand to touch her bruised forehead and winced as if he himself
felt the pain.

“What happened?”

“Meg. She hit you with her head, square
above your eye. I know this will sound crazy, but I do not think
that Meg feels pain. She has bitten herself to bleeding before and
never sheds a tear. Your eye looks awful.”

Stanzy laughed. “Thank you!”

His face appeared thoughtful for a moment,
then smiled. “Constanza,
you
could never look awful to me.
You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”

“Surely you are vexing me, Lucian.” She knew
she wasn’t plain, but she was far from the beauty her sister was
and she knew it. She’d learned her role in her family early—she was
the smart
one. Her eyes inadvertently dropped to her left
hand, where her index finger was missing.

“There is more to beauty than what the eye
sees,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. “You are bolder than
some men I have known. And my life has been missing something for a
long time.” He reached over to kiss her on the lips, gently this
time.

A shuffling sound from the other side of the
room grew louder.

“Oh, my! Well I never thought I would have
seen the day! And all these years I thought that heart was made of
stone! Well,
c`est la vie
.” Bess stood with both hands on
her hips, clucking her tongue.

“What is that ce-la-vee thing you said?”
Stanzy asked.

“It mean goes to show you never can tell
‘bout folks.”

“Bess, that is enough,” Lucian said. His
voice harsh, but his eyes smiling. Then mildly to Stanzy, “You do
have to be vigilant around Meg. She is a very angry little
girl.”

“I’d be angry too if my mamma and poppa
stopped comin’ to see me,” said the huge woman as she arranged the
fresh linen she’d brought into the room.

“BESS! Before you get us both let go.”

“Katrina has gone to Bath with the
Hopkinses,” Stanzy said changing the subject.

“Yes, I know. And I am certain they will pay
a call to your friend Edward whilst they are there.”

Bess left the room, shutting the door behind
her, and Lucian stared at Stanzy, chewing on his bottom lip.

He placed Stanzy’s right hand gingerly on
the bed and proceeded to pick up her left hand. She was so
accustomed to hiding it, she barely even noticed. It wasn’t for her
own embarrassment, but she’d grown tired over the years of people
inquiring about it and her subsequent lies to protect her
father.