Fire Dragon's Angel

by Barbara Blythe

  Was this to be a repeat of that day outside of the State House when Willshire had chastised the little girls? Ceressa held her breath.

  “No harm done, lad. Here. This might help you on your journey.” Willshire gave the entire amount Ceressa had just given him to the boy. The boy stood there stunned, staring at the coins in his hand, until Willshire shooed him on. Then he looked up at Ceressa and smiled. “Godspeed,” he said then turned away.

  Ceressa was struggling to absorb what she’d just witnessed when someone called her name. Looking around, she saw that Latimer approached on Firewind, his handsome visage marred with irritation. Alarmed, she looked over her shoulder, but Willshire was nowhere to be seen. What if Latimer had spied them together? What did it matter?

  “I thought I told you to keep up. Why have you fallen so far behind?”

  “I—I’m sorry. I’m coming.” Her heart beat erratically as she awaited his next words.

  “Then don’t delay.” Latimer’s terseness signified he’d tolerate no disobedience. Expelling a breath, she gave silent thanks to God as she followed him toward the ferry.

  Fire Dragon's Angel

  30

  Ceressa was hard pressed to keep up with Latimer. Nosegay, distracted by the city’s chaos, refused to obey her simplest commands. When the ferry came into sight, Ceressa’s heart sank, for it was nothing more than several wide logs lashed together with a single rope tied about the four corner posts. Already loaded to capacity with human cargo, it also held a varied assortment of carts, horses, goats, cats, and dogs.

  Several children appeared much too intrigued by the river, and Ceressa could only hope that one of the members of their group kept a firm hand on naturally inquisitive April. Even from that distance she could hear a woman scolding someone who’d apparently tried to reach under the rope and touch the water. Ceressa shuddered at the prospect of a child falling into the murky gray expanse of the James.

  “Master Latimer!” Bengie bellowed, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Dirk’s about to shove off.”

  “We’re coming,” Latimer yelled back then turned to look at her. “Hurry, Ceressa. We haven’t much time.”

  Ceressa begged her mare to go just a bit faster. The loaded ferry was coming ever closer, and she easily picked out the man she presumed to be Dirk; a bald man, burned brown from days in the sun and wind, tall as he was wide, and wearing a huge grin, which he leveled at her as she and Latimer neared.

  “So this be the bride, eh, Latimer?” rose above the din. It was obvious this man, with the brogue of a Scotsman, gave no heed to title or position. “Ye did yerself up right, lad, that ye did.”

  “Glad you approve of my choice, Dirk. I’d hoped—” Loud yells and shouts followed by a round of ear-splitting pops interrupted Latimer’s words.

  Ceressa shrieked as Latimer produced his pistol, undoubtedly prepared to use it.

  “Ceressa, hurry. Hurry!”

  “You have to come, too,” she screamed. “I won’t go any further unless you come with me.”

  “You will go!” His roar rose above the deafening melee that now seemed to surround them. Though the ferry was but mere feet away, it might as well have been miles. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

  “Then we’ll die together,” she announced with a calm she was far from feeling. Uttering an oath unbefitting a former divinity student, he took hold of Nosegay’s bridle, dug his heels into Firewind’s flanks, and spurted forward. The skittish mare had no choice but to run with Firewind, and Ceressa grasped the reins so tightly her hands numbed.

  “Master Latimer!”

  “Latimer, behind ye!”

  Bengie and the ferryman bellowed simultaneously. Latimer released his hold on the bridle then swept an arm about her. Ceressa fell, Heloise’s jaunty plumed hat tumbling from her head and rolling beneath Firewind’s crushing hooves. The pins slipped from her coiffure, and her hair fell about her shoulders as she struck Latimer’s chest.

  Swiftly, he rolled out from under her and positioned his body to shield hers. He fired the pistol, and her body reverberated from the force of the shot. No sound would pass her lips, and it was just as well, for she knew she’d be screaming. Dear God, please don’t let him die. Don’t let him die because I wasted precious time giving that letter to Torrence Willshire. Please don’t let him die. Before she realized what was happening, Latimer hauled her to her feet, clutching the back of her jacket and shoving her forward.

  A choked cry rose up in her throat and found release just as she stumbled over a prone man; most likely the one Bengie and Dirk had warned Latimer of. There was no mistaking the absence of life in the body. A fierce shudder wracked her.

  The shouting intensified, moving closer as Ceressa stepped foot on the ferry and fell to her knees. Kate and Mariette reached out, helping her to her feet as Latimer, now in possession of another loaded pistol, fired, felling another. Shots came at them from the shore as Dirk used his long pole to shove the ferry into the river. Bengie took up another pole as he helped the brawny man move at a faster pace.

  At last, they were beyond range of those congregated along the riverbank. Ceressa broke away from the two women and made her way between humans and animals to Latimer.

  Out of breath, Ceressa had difficulty speaking. “You—saved—my—life.”

  Latimer glanced at her briefly without a reply. He looked back at the beleaguered town. “The first of Bacon’s rebels have arrived. Had you dallied any longer with Willshire, we’d both be dead by now.”

  “You—saw?” she asked, her breathlessness worsening. He turned his gaze back upon her, and the hard glitter of his eyes set her to trembling. “You don’t think—you can’t think—”

  “I’ve been played the fool,” he uttered bitterly. “To think I—” He halted his flow of words by clamping his lips. Before she could assure him such was not the case,

  Dirk hailed him.

  “That was a wee bit close, Latimer, me lad. There’ll be nae going back over for a while. It wasnae too many days ago I was sayin’ Bacon had the right idea. Can’t say that now. They’d a killed us all. Even the womenfolk and the bairns. They be nae better than those butcherin’ savages.”

  Ceressa’s blood chilled at the man’s words, and she quickly looked for April, hoping the child hadn’t heard his comment about her father’s people. Fortunately, April was atop Bengie’s shoulders, pointing at a gull that swooped low looking for food.

  “Times are bad. What’re ye goin’ to do?”

  “I’m going home, Dirk, to protect my home and my land and”—Latimer looked over at Ceressa—“my wife and niece.”

  Ceressa’s misery mounted at his words. She’d intentionally disregarded Latimer’s request and had placed herself in a compromising situation with Willshire. There was nothing she could do to explain what Latimer had seen without giving away the reason she’d spoken to the man, who was now in possession of the letter she should never have written. She’d gambled and lost.

  As the ferry docked, the activity was less frenzied, though a few local residents had heard the shots from across the river and had come to find out the cause. Once the facts had been recounted, Dirk became the man of the hour, his bravery in bringing everyone across the river safely praised. The owner of a local inn invited Dirk to stay at his establishment free of charge until such time he could return to James Cittie.

  Bengie and Daniel helped Mariette and Kate mount their horses as they readied for departure, then Bengie placed April before him on his horse.

  Ceressa caught Nosegay’s reins in order to mount until strong hands gripped her about the waist and lifted her up. She gazed down at Latimer. Ceressa’s throat tightened as the terror of boarding the besieged ferry overwhelmed her, and the despair of knowing Latimer had seen her with Willshire unraveled her last bit of self-control. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Not pining for Willshire, I hope.”

  “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” She
wiped furiously at her tears. Latimer moved to Firewind’s side and swung up into the saddle.

  “I wouldn’t bother to answer either if I’d been caught in a similar situation. I don’t believe there’s anything you can say.”

  “You of all people should know things aren’t always what they seem.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed far too easily. “I thought my father was my uncle, I thought the Lord wanted me to be a minister, and I thought you to be an innocent, trusting child. But my father turned his back on me when I needed him most, the Lord allowed me to be severely censored for something I didn’t do, and you seek solace in another man’s arms.”

  “I was not in his arms, and I haven’t been a child in several years.”

  “I’m well aware you’re no longer a child.” As those words heightened her anger, Latimer sent Firewind forward, clattering off the ferry.

  Ceressa followed, fighting the urge to catch up to him and slap that insolent look from his face. Instead, she intentionally lagged behind, lost in her tumultuous thoughts. Of primary concern now was the fate of her letter. If Willshire managed to get it to the captain of the Dutiful Lady, would Bacon and his rebels allow the ship to even sail?

  ****

  It was nearly noon when Latimer motioned for them to halt, stating they could rest and partake of the meal Kate had packed before leaving.

  Ceressa was thankful for the chance to stretch, and she offered her help to Mariette and Kate who were setting out the food. The three men took themselves off, talking in low tones, and Ceressa wondered if they purposefully kept their voices inaudible so as not to alarm the women. Could there be just as much danger ahead as they’d left behind? Ceressa had to find out.

  After taking their fill of cold chicken, ham, rhubarb pie, and biscuits smothered with blackberry jam, everyone’s eyes grew heavy. After washing jam off April’s face and out of her hair with water from a nearby creek, Ceressa settled the sleepy child with Kate. Latimer wasn’t among them, so she reasoned he’d gone for a walk. This might be the only time she’d have to talk with him privately.

  Ceressa found him not far away, crouched on the other side of the creek and just out of range of vision from their resting spot. He was tossing pebbles into the clear, pure water. Upon hearing her approach, he looked up at her in annoyance.

  “Is something amiss?”

  “A great many things, but for now, I want to know if there’s trouble in Surry.”

  “I believe Bacon is content with antagonizing Sir William for the moment.”

  Ceressa took a seat, smoothing her skirts beneath her. Self-consciously, she brushed back her uncontrollable curls, knowing she had to look a sight. “Will the Indians resume their attacks?”

  “That, I can’t answer. I pray not. It’s impossible to shake the memories of that time I had no choice but to fight. The atrocities I witnessed haunt me to this day.”

  “And I will pray for an end to the attacks.” Looking away, Ceressa’s gaze traveled beyond the trees to a field filled with lush, thick green stalks. Men of ebony skin, many stripped to the waist were hard at work, singing as they moved among the plants.

  “Is that tobacco?”

  “It is. Tobacco is the mainstay of the county.”

  Ceressa turned her gaze back to his, the sun picking out the golden flecks among the green.

  “Trouble that affects the colony affects the tobacco production and keeps it from getting to the English ports. I’m more fortunate than most because I have Geoffrey’s ships at my disposal. Although, that may now be a thing of the past.” He fell silent, and Ceressa knew he was thinking of that last argument with Sir Geoffrey.

  “The other farmers and planters believe you to be their voice. You must be honored by their trust.”

  “A trust that weighs heavily upon me.” Latimer sighed.

  “Do you think Bartholomew and Phyllis got safely away?”

  “They departed just after sunset yesterday. Bartholomew sent me word. They should already be at Carrumont. This very creek runs past Carrumont and enters into Chippokes Bay. Tidelands is on the other side. Both properties are bordered by Lawne’s Creek, which is the name of the parish and local church. In case you’re wondering, I do attend services.”

  “Why would I think otherwise?”

  He surprised her by smiling. Ceressa’s heart gave a little leap. Mayhap, he’d come to realize that what he’d witnessed between her and Willshire had been nothing more than an exchange of goodbyes. Yet, guilt settled heavily in the pit of her stomach, and she suddenly felt unwell. She supposed this was the penalty one paid for deceiving another. Again.

  “I thought you believed me beyond redemption.”

  “No one is beyond redemption.”

  “I wonder—”

  “I do not.”

  “Raise that pert chin of yours any higher and you might break your beautiful neck.” Ceressa quickly dropped her chin, unaware that she’d elevated it.

  Standing, he waded into the shallow water and easily crossed, moving up the bank, then took a seat beside her. His expression turned serious.

  “I can’t tell you what lies ahead at Tidelands. I only know that I will do everything in my power to keep you and April from harm. But there may come a time when that won’t be possible. There are no guarantees.” Silence slipped between them, suddenly broken by the advent of another. It was Bengie, and he quickly reddened when he realized he might have intruded upon an intimate moment. If only he knew the true state of affairs, Ceressa thought sadly. Latimer quickly stood.

  “We should be leaving,” Latimer said before Bengie could speak. The young man nodded, then hurried away. Latimer extended his hand to Ceressa and helped her stand. He held her hand for a moment more, running his thumb over the back of it. When he released it, a sudden chill enveloped Ceressa, and she prayed it wasn’t an omen of things to come.

  Fire Dragon's Angel

  31

  The sun set in a glorious burst of gold, orange, and rose, a gentle twilight slipping over the forested land and lending Ceressa some measure of peace. They now traveled a path hardly wide enough for a carriage as lofty trees lifted branches heavenward. Towering pines emitted a fresh, pungent scent while a warm breeze brushed the tops of cedar and birch.

  “It’s not much farther,” Latimer spoke, intruding into her thoughts. She intentionally kept her eyes fixed ahead. Dappled light filtered through the trees, creating a fantastic pattern on the trail before them. “You seem deep in thought.”

  “The trees—the wildlife—the flowers that grow in abandon. Everything is so beautiful and untouched.”

  “That’s why I love it here. Even with all the problems and upheaval, I’d not trade this for one day at Kirkleigh Hall. Geoffrey is more than welcome to that constrictive life.”

  “I never thought of my life as constricted,” she said, thinking upon all the rules and regulations governing the proper conduct of a lady. Ingrained since childhood, they’d become part of her existence. “One can almost feel the freedom—a sense of exhilaration and expectation.” Glancing over at Latimer, she blushed at the intensity of his gaze.

  As though catching himself, he immediately looked away. “Just don’t let down your guard,” he warned gruffly then sent Firewind forward until he was again at the front of the little group. April was asleep, still riding with Bengie, her sweet lips puckered into a perfect little bow. Ceressa moved Nosegay up beside Bengie and reached out to touch the child’s cheek. Bengie smiled at her.

  “This little one is quite fond of you,” Bengie said softly. “She’s been telling me how you’ve already taught her the ABCs.”

  Ceressa laughed softly. “That’s all I’ve taught her—literally. We’ll have more time for learning once we’re at Tidelands. Are there many children there?”

  “A dozen or so small ones, I believe. And some older, now in their teen years, but who might still want to learn to read and write. It’ll be good to have you at Tidelands.”

&nb
sp; “Thank you, Bengie.” Ceressa was relieved that there would be at least one who wanted her to be there. “I guess you’ll be glad to be home.”

  “I won’t be staying long. Master Latimer is sending me on to Cephas Marlington’s place to take a letter to his wife. Master Marlington decided to remain in James Cittie until the commotion dies down. But he didn’t want Mrs. Marlington to fret.”

  “How could she not? Whatever possessed him to stay?”

  “He said he was staying behind to protect his interests. Master Latimer tried to reason with him.”

  “I hope the man won’t be sorry.” Ceressa shook her head, sadly recalling those terrifying moments when she had feared that she and Latimer would never board the ferry.

  ****

  Dusk had descended when the horses broke free of the dense woods and entered a partially cleared area. Curiosity overrode Ceressa’s determination to avoid Latimer. Urging her mare forward, she galloped past him then reined her horse sharply, amazed at what she saw ahead. A perfect view of manor, outbuildings, fields, and verdant green lawn spread out before her; a sight that nearly took her breath. Surrounding trees formed glades and beyond that were the tobacco and corn fields, empty at this late hour. In the midst of all rose Tidelands, so unexpected in this untamed wilderness.

  Three stories in height, wings extended evenly on both sides, the façade’s architecture was both classic and graceful—evidence of Latimer’s hard work.

  As Ceressa brought Nosegay closer to the steps, a young black boy rushed forward to assist, but by now Latimer had reached her.

  Dismounting, he came around to her side to help her down while the dark-skinned child held Nosegay’s bridle.

  As soon as her feet touched the ground, she lifted her eyes to Latimer’s, unnerved once more by his look and the fact he held her waist longer than was necessary. His touch was nearly unbearable, reminding her he no longer wanted her in the way a man wants his wife. It was a struggle to hold back the tears.