by Imogene Nix
Grateful that she understood, he dropped down to the pallet on the floor. “If we break camp early tomorrow, before dawn, we should reach the city outskirts within two days. Barring anything happening of course.”
Dropping her hairbrush into the small traveling case, she slid down to the pallet beside him, her hands settling in her lap though her expression remained grave. “Do you expect something to happen? You’ve been very on edge since we left the palace.”
“I honestly don’t know, Elspeth. If they were going to attack, the time is almost past, yet I’m concerned. You still have the pistol I gave you, don’t you?”
“Grundy had one of the men fashion a holster for me.” She fumbled in the split skirt and showed him the place she’d secreted it. “I listened when you demanded I keep it on me.”
He harrumphed, some of the concern leaching out. He leaned back on the roll that Grundy had rolled into a pillow, and Elspeth followed him down, nestling into his embrace.
“What will happen once we arrive back in Calcutta, Aeddan?”
He sighed. “I will need to report to Lytton, then we’ll retrieve Isabelle. When is your ship due back?”
“Ah, now that’s difficult to say. The Zephyr is our fastest ship, and if it makes a speedy return, I would imagine it will be back in four months, all things being equal. The Jamestown is due in three weeks though. It’s taking a shipment of spices, textiles, and saltpeter I believe, from the cargo lists I saw before we came away.”
“Destination London?”
“I can’t remember offhand, but I would presume it would first dock at Falmouth to provision before heading there.”
Once more Aeddan harrumphed. “I want you to arrange transport for us, Isabelle, and Grundy aboard the Jamestown then. As soon as possible. While I’d rather at this time we were going directly to London, you’re still set on Shanghai?”
“Yes. As it is, we’re changing our timetable, but it would certainly see us home more swiftly.”
They lay still, in companionable silence, and drifted off.
Loud noises, scuffles, and shouts woke him.
Shots echoed and he knifed up, off the pallet, already reaching for his pistol, as Elspeth woke beside him, still dressed in her breeches and white cloth shirt, hair tumbling down. “What’s—”
He grabbed her shoulder. “Stay here in the tent. Shoot anyone that isn’t Grundy or myself. Promise me, Elspeth?”
She nodded. Even pale and scared, her face was a picture of intense concentration as she reached for the tiny gun he’d given her. His heart shifted in his chest. “Yes. Go.”
He rushed out, pistol already primed, summing up the scene in a momentary glance. Fierce fighting swirled around, and it was hard to tell who was friend and foe in the dimness. The glisten of bodies, here and there, interspersed with white shirts, the only clue to who were his men and who wasn’t.
The flickering lights were more a problem than assistance, but when the man facing him charged, his sword held high, Aeddan aimed and fired, then waited only long enough to see the man drop before turning.
Loud bangs, thuds, and grunts filled the air. Calls of “to me!” in voices he knew echoed, and Aeddan scrambled, seeking his next opponent.
Sweaty action in the humidity and the scent of coppery blood rising married together with the cacophony of sound brought with it intense clarity. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, surging and pushing him to move faster, hit harder, and aim more surely than ever before.
He grabbed a dropped sword, meeting an attacker, move for move. Seeking an opening.
Thrust. Parry. Thrust.
Slice. The metal slid between two ribs with a wet, sucking noise, the man crying out as he fell to the ground. The dirt turned slippery as the mixture of mud and blood became a slurry underfoot.
A scream rent the air. Ricocheted in his mind. “Elspeth!”
He turned, snarling with rage that someone would attack her. Determined to get to her. Willing to go through anyone as primal reactions kicked in.
Find her. Protect her. His heart demanded nothing less. She’s mine!
He shoved between gyrating bodies, light flickering stronger now as flames licked at bedding, shunted into the cooking fires.
In the glow, he caught sight of two bodies, one twisting and squirming—Elspeth—while the other held her still. Albermarle! The mangy cur. One hand curled around her waist, hands splayed as if seeking the mound of her breast, while the other held a stubby and discolored knife at her throat. Her face looked ashen, and her eyes were wide with terror. The quiver of her lips was almost too much for him to bear. The fear on her countenance fed the rage building inside him so that it clawed at his guts, demanding to be set free.
Albermarle crowed and called out, “Look what excellent treasure I’ve found, Fortescue! Miss Forster is ours for the taking, and since she’s been traveling unchaperoned, I’m willing to believe she’s—”
“Take your hands off my wife.” He barked so loud the man stilled, the smile freezing on his face before sliding away, replaced with an uneasy glare.
“Come now, Fitzsimmons, don’t be a dog in the manger.” The man’s voice wheedled, “You didn’t think we’d give up the chase this easily, did you? We can cut you in though. There’s plenty of the money for everyone. The Russians are looking for good people to pass them information. You’re in contact with Lytton and the captains from Forster Shipping. The information you’ve got will garner us all kinds of prizes.”
The man had no idea how the disregard for the woman in his grasp enraged him. Aeddan wanted to rip his throat out, but the truth of the matter was, he needed a way to get Elspeth free before he could release the fury ravening within him.
Find a way to release Elspeth. The Russians, Fortescue, and Albermarle could go hang. Her safety was his priority, because… The truth dawned, and he strove to block it out, otherwise he’d be seized by terror. She was the key, he finally understood. Shoving that thought away took every ounce of his willpower.
A shadow moved just behind Albermarle. Low and slow movements. Each action rational and considered. Grundy, by God! Aeddan wrenched his gaze away from the man moving stealthily forward.
“Leave my wife be. She can be of no use to you.”
Albermarle sneered, his whole attention settled on Aeddan, and he could only hope it would be enough to keep the traitor’s concentration on him.
“On the contrary, old man. She’s of immense use to our cause. The family shipping line? They’re running secrets the Colonial Office doesn’t trust to The Company. We access those, we know exactly what movements are planned and we sell it to the Russians. The one with the girl is the one with the power. Ergo, the one with the money and influence.”
Reality crystalized. Every action seeming to take forever as Elspeth growled and stomped down hard with her boot-shod foot just as Albermarle ceased speaking. Her howl was lost as Albermarle screeched with pain. Next, she bared her teeth and bit deep on his hand, drawing blood as he attempted to yank away.
Albermarle swung as if to cuff her, but she caught sight and moved, the blow glancing off her, although Aeddan heard her hiss as he advanced, arm drawn back with the sword, ready to hack at the man anywhere and any way he could. I’ll make the bastard pay!
The shadow erupted from the dark. Grundy. Intent on saving Elspeth, who’d already freed herself.
He and Grundy moved in concert. The man didn’t stand a chance as Aeddan slashed at him, Albermarle jumping backward into Grundy’s embrace. The wiry batman had Albermarle on the ground in a flash as Aeddan clawed at his belt, wrenching it off so he could tie the man up.
“Get me rope!” Aeddan’s bellow echoed in the sudden quiet, and he realized in that instant the battle was done.
Cord was thrust into his grasp, and Fortescue, sniveling with pain after being sliced by one of Aeddan’s men, was dragged to a stake in the middle of the camp area, as was Albermarle, both men bound and gagged. Then his men rounded up the in
jured, dead, and dying.
Elspeth didn’t cry. In stark relief, he noted the starch in his wife, the straight back and tight lips.
She didn’t break. The men came and went around her, and they noted that too. Pride welled up, until he slid his arm around her shoulder.
Elspeth remained stiff. Controlled.
“Come to the tent, Elspeth.”
Wordlessly, she followed him, and the flap closed with a snap.
She whirled, threw herself into his embrace, and the dam broke. Tears soaking his shirt, the sound broken.
“Elspeth. Shhh…” He soothed and rubbed her back, letting the storm pass, understanding that she needed the release.
When the worst subsided, she slumped against him, and he bent, picked her up, and carried her to the pallet. There were tasks to be completed, but his wife needed him now. Her needs couldn’t be ignored.
“Elspeth?”
“You… You have things to do, and I’ll… I can wait for you.” The sound of her broken voice scored him like shards of glass. Once more he vowed that the two men outside would pay.
“If you need me, I’ll stay.”
Elspeth tugged away, some of the starch returning to her spine. “No. Your men need you now. I’ll wait here for you.” She sat up and wiped the traces of tears from her cheeks. “You’ve got the ring leaders, and I won’t let you or your men down by appearing weak in front of them.”
Though Aeddan hadn’t thought it possible, she rose in his estimation. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. Go do your duty then return.”
He turned then whirled back, giving her a quick, hard kiss to reassure them both before tugging away. He didn’t want to leave her there by herself but was also aware that his men needed his direction.
Chapter 21
Calcutta rose in the distance, the white of the built environment a welcome sight after the privations of their journey. Weeks on the road and the horrific attack left Elspeth struggling to maintain her composure. But she held onto her sanity with a rigid grasp.
She drooped in her saddle, aching from the rough handling she’d received at Albermarle’s hands, while her equilibrium was dented as well. Aeddan had remained close by, always solicitous, as she fought to maintain the wall of brittle composure. Elspeth longed for the privacy afforded by a bedroom. Somewhere to hide away and lick her wounds.
Grundy kept his distance—supervising the handling of Fortescue and Albermarle—and she glanced in the direction of Aeddan. He’d ridden ahead. She might be surrounded by their guard, but she’d never felt so alone.
“North Point isn’t far away, Elspeth.”
The haze of pre-dawn light they’d left in changed to day, but it wasn’t the heavy, sultry atmosphere of May and June, so she welcomed the hours of light.
The terrain stretched out before them, leading to the metropolis, and beyond that, the residential areas. In the distance, ship masts appeared like white puffs on the ocean. Her memories of the scent of sea water was a balm to her soul.
They plodded on, time passing in a fugue. Dirt tracks gave way to formed roads, and they entered the government district sometime around midday. Wide roads led them to the imposing structure of Government House. Aeddan had sent a man ahead to apprise the guards, and they were met just inside the ornate metal gates, and their two prisoners handed to the authorities. Elspeth kept herself aloof, wanting nothing more to do with the men.
Their guards drifted away, the horses whinnying as the men alighted, and Elspeth waited in silence until Aeddan joined her. “Grundy will follow us later. Come, let’s go home.”
“The men?”
“Their task is complete, Elspeth. Come, you need rest.”
She followed his lead, letting Sana pick her way through the streets. The kaleidoscope of colors and humanity ebbed and flowed, and she let it ripple around her. Her focus remained on maintaining serenity until she was alone. In her mind, a vision of the bathing room off her chamber rose. If only she could restrain her emotions until then.
The façade of North Point appeared, a two-storey house, colonial in style and wooden in construction with wide verandas and shrubby garden beds came into view.
Staff hurried to meet them, grabbing for the reins, and Elspeth gladly handed Sana’s over. She urgently craved the tranquility that lay within the house.
She dropped to the ground before Aeddan could assist, and with a quick “thank you” to the staff, she made her way to the door with swift steps on the gravel drive. Tears burned her eyelids.
“Elspeth?” Aeddan called, but she scurried on, fearing that to turn now, to surrender to his attention, would be her undoing.
The door opened without a sound, and she shoved inside, the echoes of Aeddan’s footsteps dogging her.
“Wait!” he called, and she swallowed the sob that rose, stilling at the base of the curving stairway.
“Please. I can’t. Not now.” She turned to let him glimpse the ravages inside her, and he groaned.
Aeddan swooped in and gathered her close, then moved, taking the stairs two at a time.
She burrowed in, unable to hold out any longer against the clamor of her emotions. Fright and rage warred with desperation and loss of control.
“I thought we were going to die, Aeddan. That our life would be over and I’d never have the…” Shaking her head, she broke off the words, shattered that she’d lost control, however briefly.
At the chamber, he opened the door and carried her in. If the staff had spied her, or heard any of her words, she didn’t know. All that mattered was the steady thumping of his heartbeat against her ear.
“Elspeth, look at me.”
Aeddan spoke urgently, and unable to deny him, she complied.
“We need to talk. Words I should have said weeks ago. Things I kept…” With a savage shake of his head, he sighed. “I was a fool to think I should keep anything from you. I wanted you, Elspeth. From the first moment on the Zephyr, I desired you. Burned for you.”
Head in a whirl, she stared at him, his face a study of harsh planes, lips compressed.
“When they had you, when Albermarle hit you, I wanted to tear him limb from limb. Inside me, the primal creature, the one who worshipped your body, took over. I wanted to kill him. Because he hurt you. Frightened you. Terrorized you.”
This creature holding her, the man stripped bare, amazed her.
“I hated the fact I hadn’t been honest. That I didn’t tell you my feelings. I was frightened before, but it was nothing to the terror that held me in its fist. I told myself I could lie. I could keep the truth out of our union.”
Her heart plunged to her stomach. Does he plan to send me away?
Aeddan reached out and softly caressed the side of her cheek. His thumb settled on her lips, and God help her, even now they opened, seeking the taste and feel of this man.
“I should have told you I loved you, Elspeth.”
Shock rippled.
Love?
“Do you…” He glanced away, the tide of red cresting his cheeks like flags of high emotion. “I can’t make you love me. But if you ever could, I’d be—”
He loves me!
“I will always love you, Aeddan. You’re the part of me that was missing. The fire in my soul.”
* * * *
Triumph suffused Aeddan. This strong and amazing woman returned his love, and the knowledge humbled him. Yet, even in the middle of his victory, there was still a seed of disquiet.
“That’s not all that upset you, was it?” he asked.
Elspeth squirmed in his grasp, turned away from him. The action cutting him deeply.
“You said that Lytton made you marry me, Aeddan. It gutted me, and with the attack and not knowing… I was trying to keep myself safe. Protect myself from hurt and drowning in my fears.” The way her voice choked had him cursing the memory of those words. On the rock that day. When she’d walked away.
“Elspeth…” What could he say that would explai
n she’d truly only heard part of the truth? “Yes, Lytton did order me to protect you, and after the library, there was an understanding that I’d marry you. But that wasn’t everything. It doesn’t explain that I wanted you already. Had settled on marrying you once we’d arrived in Calcutta, and was seeking a way to bring that about.”
With a shaking hand, he cupped her chin, making her face him. He gazed deep into her eyes, hoping she’d read the truth.
“I should have told you everything up front. I didn’t want to lose you, and things moved so quick. So, I grabbed the chance, Elspeth. I made mistakes, but now we can fix them, with everything out in the open. If you’ll let me.”
The moment stretched, skating over his nerves until he was sure she’d refute his claims.
A tiny tear, diamond-bright, flittered on her lash. “I wanted to trust you, Aeddan.” The thickness of her voice came close to unmanning him. “It’s hard. I’m seven and twenty. Past the time when girlish dreams should be coming true. I’m mature and not in the least adventuresome—”
“All evidence to the contrary, my love.”
Her laugh was more a sputter at his outburst.
“Perhaps. But I thought I’d put such dreams away. I’d come in search of information, and yes, passion too. I’d thought perhaps a dalliance was the most I could hope for and there you were. On the Zephyr. You caught me when Isabelle was still sick and I was off-balance. Then to hear you, that day? My world crashed down, and I was sure the best I could hope for was emptiness in our marriage—without hope for love. It hurt.”
His heart cracked at the knowledge he’d caused her such pain. I’ll make it up to her.
“Forgive me, Elspeth. I never meant to do that.”
This time, Elspeth closed the distance between them, laying her lips against his, her palm cradling his face, the pads of her fingertips soft and tender. The gentle caress of her lips against his burned him, then she tugged away.
“Amber gave me a gift before we left.”
He blinked at the change of subject. “A gift?”
“Yes. In my saddlebag. Would you find it for me?”
The lightning change of mood surprised Aeddan, yet he’d vowed to show her his trustworthiness. “I’ll have a bath drawn for you then.” He slid her to the bed, rose. “I’ll retrieve the item.”
