“Oh, I’m sure that you’re able to, Roxanne,” Shemaine replied. “You seem very cold-blooded about getting what you want out of life.”
“Aye, I’ve had to be, living with my father,” Roxanne jeered. “All I’ve heard since my mother left him was how horrible the bitch was to have deserted us. Well, he deserves to be left, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do after I kill you—”
“You’re proud of what you’ve done, aren’t you?” Shemaine interrupted. “You actually boast when you talk of Victoria being killed and how you planned it all. But you’re not as clever as you think, Roxanne. Truth has a way of coming out eventually.”
The blonde smirked. “Except for Gage, no one has ever suspected me. I wondered if they would, but none did. I was even fearful of that day when it seemed my friend had hurt you. I was sure that people would begin to suspect me. After all, people knew I had befriended him. It would only take someone who was more canny than most to put it all together. But I had nothing to fear. ‘Twas only that stupid mudsucker who had tried to kill you in front of everyone.”
Roxanne raised the pistol threateningly, having run out of her short supply of patience. “Now get over there, Shemaine, or your life will end right this very moment.”
An inhuman whimpering whine from the top of the building slip startled Roxanne, making her whirl about.
Shemame smothered a moan of despair as she realized exactly who Roxanne’s friend was. It was Cain, the hunchback. He scurried toward Roxanne with an odd, twisted gait and, halting before the blonde, swung his arms in wild gestures.
“Naw Shamawn! Naw Shamawn! Naw Shamawn!” he pleaded in a panic, and reached out to grab the pistol from Roxanne.
“Yes Shemaine!” Roxanne insisted, snatching her arm away from his grasp. Growing visibly incensed, she hissed at him. “She tried to kill me, Cain. Can’t you see that? But you don’t care about that, do you? All you’re worried about is your precious little Shemaine.”
“Naw Shamawn! Naw Shamawn!” he sobbed imploringly.
“Hush up, you ugly creep!” Roxanne snarled. “Or we’ll have Mr. Thornton down upon us.”
Turning to Shemaine again, the woman pointed toward the prow. “Get up there now, you bitch! Or I’ll blow a hole through you where you stand!”
“You’re going to have to shoot me, Roxanne. And if you kill me like that,” Shemaine gritted out, “then ‘twill be difficult for you to lay the blame on Gage. There’ll be witnesses in the cabin who’ll come running and will no doubt see him leave the cabinet shop on his way here. In fact, his father will likely come up here, too, to see what has happened. He’s not as agile as Gage, so it may take him a little time to get here, but he’ll come. Aye, I think ‘tis much better if you kill me with the pistol, Roxanne, because I’ll know then that you won’t be able to fool the people into thinking that Gage killed me.”
“Lift her up on the prow, Cain,” Roxanne barked, tossing a glare toward the hunchback. “If you don’t, I’m going to shoot your little darling right through the head right now!”
“Naw Shamawn!” he croaked, his face twisting hideously with the agony that roiled within him. “Plawse naw Shamawn.”
“Please! Please! Please!” Roxanne mimicked sneeringly. “Haven’t I begged you to help me? And what have you done? Turned a deaf ear to my pleas, that’s what! Well, I’m going to kill Shemaine, Cain, and nothing you can say or do will stop me. ‘Twill either be a shot through the head or a fall from the prow, but either way, she’ll be dead.”
Roxanne stretched out her arm, aiming the bore of the pistol between Shemaine’s eyes. Shemaine felt her stomach wrench with sickening dread, but she refused to move one step closer to the prow. Allowing herself to be shot was the only way she could save her husband from a hanging.
A bellow of rage came from Cain as he lumbered forward and knocked the pistol aside. It went off with a horrendous bark, echoing through the clearing and the glade.
In the cabinet shop, Gage had just finished nailing Potts’s body in the newly constructed coffin when the sound brought him upright with a start. In the next instant he was racing toward the door.
In the cabin, William had just stepped from his sleeping grandson’s room when the echoing shot brought him to a sudden halt. Exchanging an alarmed glance with Bess, he hastened toward the tall cabinet near the door, took out a pair of pistols and checked their loading. Ignoring the pain that still encumbered his movements, he stepped out onto the porch, cursing his lack of agility.
Each man ran toward the ship, albeit one more swiftly. While William still picked his way hurriedly down the path from the cabin, Gage was already sprinting up the building slip, frantically calling Shemaine’s name. He had just reached the top of the slip when Cain swept an arm around Roxanne’s waist and hauled her toward the prow.
“You fool! What are you doing?” Roxanne railed angrily. “Put me down! Put me down, I say!”
The hunchback tossed a glance over his shoulder as Gage ran toward him, but Cain had more strength in his arms and legs than one might have imagined. He hauled himself and his burden up to the prow, despite the woman’s screeching and her wildly thrashing struggles to free herself. Holding Roxanne clutched in the crook of his arm, he looked back at Gage and stepped near the edge, bringing Gage to a skidding halt. It became immediately apparent to Gage that if he came one step closer, the hunchback would leap to his death and take Roxanne with him.
“Cain, put Roxanne down,” Gage urged quietly.
“Naw! Naw!” Cain shook his misshapen head and waved his free arm in a sweeping gesture, motioning for Gage to retreat. That one had no other choice but to step back several paces.
Cain canted his head at an odd angle and looked down at Shemaine. Tears were flowing down his distorted face, barely visible in the deepening twilight.
“Shamawn maw frawn.” He touched his heart briefly. “Cawn lawve Shamawn.”
“And I love you, too, Cain,” Shemaine answered him anxiously. “You’ve been a good friend to watch over me.” Wiping at the streaming wetness flowing down her own cheeks, she began to beseech him. “Please, Cain, please don’t hurt Roxanne. Just come down here where you both will be safe.”
“Cawn mawst daw! Cawn kawled Vectawrea! Cawn mawst daw!”
Gage had been looking at Shemaine, but his head snapped around when he realized what the hunchback had said.
“No, Cain, you needn’t die,” Shemaine argued desperately. “Roxanne made you think that Victoria was going to kill her, but you didn’t mean to break her neck when you grabbed her. It was an accident. Then Roxanne told you to throw her off the ship so it would look like Victoria had fallen, but that had been her plan all along.” Shemaine glanced at Gage, who was listening intently to every word she was saying. She knew her husband needed and wanted to know everything about Victoria’s death, but she could not pause to explain now, not when she had to stop Cain from jumping off the ship to the rocks below. “You thought you were protecting Roxanne from Victoria, but Roxanne lied to you, Cain. Victoria would never have hurt her. She thought Roxanne was her friend.”
“Cawn mawst daw! Rawxawne mawst daw!”
At his declaration, Roxanne renewed her frantic efforts to free herself and began to claw at the gruesome face, crying in frightened hysteria, “Let me go, you buffoon! Let me go, do you hear! I don’t want to die! I want to live!”
“Gawdbawe, Shamawn.”
With that muttered farewell, Cain swept his captive around and leapt from the prow of the ship. Roxanne’s scream lasted no more than a second, then it was forever silenced. Shemaine and Gage ran to the prow, and by that time William had gained the bottom of the building slip. He made his way back to the two whose broken forms lay sprawled across the jagged rocks. Though it caused him some agony, he bent down to examine each carefully. Roxanne’s neck had been broken by the fall; Cain was still alive, but just barely. He lay sprawled across the boulders, but one that was taller and sharper than the rest bulged
upward beneath his back. Wheezing loudly, the hunchback tried to smile as he felt William’s hand gently stroking his arm, but he coughed instead, spewing up some of the blood that was rapidly filling his lungs. There was a horrendous pain in his chest, as if a long knife had been plunged through him. Then Cain saw Shemaine leaning over the prow above him with tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Lawve Shamawn . . . maw frawn,” he whispered. Then he closed his eyes, took a gurgling breath, and grew very still . . . and lifeless.
“Poor man,” William muttered sadly.
Gage lifted Shemaine from the prow, and together they ran down to join his father.
“ ‘Twill be too late to take the bodies into Newportes Newes tonight,” Gage said. “I’ll have to leave them in the cabinet shop until morning. Ramsey and the rest of the men can help me load the coffins in the wagon for the trip into town.”
“I’ll help you build them,” William offered.
“I’d rather you go in and see about Andy, Father,” Gage said. “He might have heard the shots or the screams and may be wondering what has happened. He’ll be frightened if he wakes to find only Bess there with him.”
William understood his son’s concern. “I’ll go inside and sit with the boy.”
“Thank you, Father.” Gage realized how much discomfort it must have caused his father to come such a distance from the cabin. He stepped near to lend the older man assistance. “Here, let me help you back to the cabin.”
William laid a hand upon his son’s arm, forestalling him. “I’d rather you stay with Shemaine, son, and watch after her. She’s carrying my grandchild, and after what she’s been through, I’d like to see her resting in bed so there’ll be no chance of her losing it. If she will consent to come back to the cabin with me, then I’d be able to watch after her while you’re finishing up with the coffins.”
Shemaine managed a shaky smile for the elder. “I’m all right, your lordship.”
“Why don’t you call me William or Father, Shemaine,” William suggested. “Papa sounds much nicer, but I’m afraid, with your own father around, it would cause some confusion.”
She went to him and rose up on tiptoes to brush a kiss against his leathery cheek. “Thank you, Papa William.”
His lordship smiled and nodded. “It sounds nice, daughter.”
When his wife came back to him, Gage slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Papa’s right, Shemaine,” he murmured, revising his own address and, in so doing, bringing a start of happy tears to his sire’s eyes. “Why don’t you go in and rest? I don’t need any help. And I’m sure by now you must be feeling at wit’s end with everyone coming out of the woods trying to kill us.”
“I’ve got almost all of the blood cleaned up from the deck,” Shemaine said unsteadily. “Yet I’d rather not go back up there all alone again . . . at least not yet.”
“Nor will I let you.” Gage raised a hand to indicate William, who was still waiting. “Why don’t you let Papa escort you back to the cabin? I’ll be in as soon as I’m finished with my tasks.”
“I’m worn out,” Shemaine admitted. “But I want to help. ‘Twill keep my mind busy so I won’t be reliving everything over and over. And Cain will need to be washed up before he’s laid in the coffin. I can do that while you’re making the coffins, then we can come back to the ship together and finish cleaning the deck.”
“All right, my sweet, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“Then I’ll leave you two,” William said reluctantly. “But don’t be too long. I’m going to fret until I know you’re both safe inside the cabin.”
With Shemaine there, Gage dared not tell his father that he might have good cause to be concerned while there were still others in the area willing to pay for Shemaine’s death. His young wife had been through a lot, and if she hadn’t overheard what Potts had told him, then it was just as well, at least for the time being.
Shemaine brought the subject to light herself. “Gage, Roxanne said that someone had paid her to kill me. . . .”
William paused to look back at them. He had become concerned about his son’s young wife, and her statement assured him that he had good reason to be.
“Potts said the same thing,” Gage acknowledged with a weary sigh. “ ‘Twould seem someone is very serious about wanting you dead, my love.”
“But who would seek after my death besides Morrisa?” Shemaine asked, totally baffled. “Morrisa wouldn’t waste her money trying to get Potts to kill me. He’d have done it for her willingly.”
“I don’t know who it could be, my love,” Gage replied. “But I intend to find out. Potts said that Morrisa knows who it is. I’ll be paying her another visit tomorrow, right after I take the coffins into Newportes Newes.”
A troubled sigh slipped from Shemaine’s lips as she searched her mind, but she found no face to put to this unknown adversary, at least none here in the colonies. “I won’t be able to sleep wondering who had enough money to pay them.”
“Then let us be about our tasks, madam, so we can finish up everything and go to bed,” Gage urged. He stepped across the rocks and lifted Roxanne. He was amazed at himself for thinking how much heavier the woman felt in his arms than his wife. But then, it was true. He wasn’t being illogical, despite the trauma of having had three more lives snuffed out on his ship. After tonight, he would be hoping to see the last of the vessel before any further disasters solidified his niggling apprehensions.
William walked with them as far as the cabin and went inside as they made their way to the cabinet shop. Gage returned for Cain’s body and laid the hunchback on a table near Roxanne. At Shemaine’s insistence, Gage fetched her a pitcher of water and a basin, then observed her with growing concern as she began to wash the blood from Cain’s face. Her hands were trembling, and soon her whole body was shaking. He tried to distract her with questions as he took the cloth from her and took over the task himself. “What was that about Cain killing Victoria? You said Roxanne had lied to him. . . .”
Unable to drag her gaze away, Shemaine stared fixedly at the gnarled face of the hunchback as she told her husband everything that Roxanne had told her.
“ ‘Twould seem that Cain was Roxanne’s own private dupe, poor soul,” Gage commented at the conclusion of her story.
“I really don’t think he meant to harm Victoria,” Shemaine murmured. “He just didn’t know his own strength, but it served Roxanne’s purposes well. I think, at the very last, Cain realized just how evil Roxanne really was. That’s probably why he said Roxanne had to die.”
“He obviously thought he deserved to die, too, for killing Victoria,” Gage reflected. “He judged himself and decreed the sentence of death was fit and just for what he had done.”
“Roxanne said Cain was more deliberate about breaking Samuel Myers’s neck before he threw him down the well.”
“Well, at least I’m better able to understand Myers’s death than I could Victoria’s,” Gage said, heaving a sigh. “She was so kind to everyone, I just couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to murder her, and yet I refused to think that she had jumped to her death. The only one I ever suspected was Roxanne, but I just couldn’t figure out how she managed to lift Victoria over the prow and throw her down. Victoria may have been slender, but she was incredibly strong for her size. No doubt Roxanne realized beforehand that she would need an accomplice to kill Victoria and lured Cain into believing her lies.”
The whys and wherefores of Roxanne’s motives and Potts’s vengeful bent had been rehashed several times before Gage and Shemaine finally returned to the cabin. For the first time since their wedding day they did not conclude the evening making love. Shemaine was visibly distressed, and it was some time before she calmed down enough to drift to sleep in her husband’s encompassing arms. Gage was too afraid for his wife to even think of trying to relax, for he could find no release for his roiling thoughts.
Once the house was quiet and dark, Gage roamed the interior, pe
ering out the windows into the ebon darkness beyond the glass panes, rechecking the bolts on the doors, and placing his rifles within easy reach of the front portal. But after he realized he was disturbing Bess, who had spread a feather-filled mat on the floor of the kitchen, he went back to the bedroom and closed the door. He rechecked the loading in his pistols and, placing one on his bedside table, slipped into bed beside his wife. Taking her in his arms again, he stared up at the ceiling, mulling over the possible culprits in his mind. He could name very few, and although Morrisa was at the head of that list, he could only think of one person with enough wealth to enlist others in her efforts to get rid of Shemaine. With Maurice du Mercer’s presence in the colonies, there could be a serious connection, albeit a very slim one. Still, Gage promised himself that he would go to the docks on the morrow to make inquiries among the captains just to see if a titled elderly lady had bought passage from England aboard one of their vessels and had recently arrived in Newportes Newes.
Daylight finally came, and after a hearty breakfast that Bess laid out for him, Gage went down to the cabinet shop. By that time Ramsey and the other men had arrived and were looking rather apprehensively at all the newly made coffins. They could only wonder if their employer had gone into that particular business.
“Ye can just tell us if’n ye’ve decided ta stop makin’ furniture,” Ramsey offered drolly. “The lot o’ us will leave an’ ne’er hold it against ye. Better ta walk out o’ here on our own accord than ta be shipped out in one o’ those.”
Gage could not help but chuckle at the unassailable humor of his chief cabinetmaker. “Those boxes seem a bit small for the likes of you and Sly.”
Ramsey took exception to his comment and ran his hands down his own torso, which had become rather bulky around the middle lately. “Are ye sayin’ we’ve gotten a bit broad and weighty?”
“A bit?” Gage scoffed with quick humor. His friend’s wit had always been a good tonic for easing his woes. “Why, the way you’ve been filling out lately, I’m wondering if we won’t have to widen the doors around here.”
Petals on the River Page 53
