Danielle groaned. "I know. It’s going to be such a shock to her. I have never even told her about Scott and me. She’s going to think I’ll be a horrid mother for her grandchild!" She covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t figure out why her emotions were so near the surface lately. She had considered herself a strong person and now any little old thing sent her into tears. She sat up on the side of the bed, waiting for the nausea to start. It didn’t, so she stood up. "I’m going to go tell her today and get it over with. I am just worried as to what her reaction will be."
Susanna laughed. "I think you worry too much. You’re going to make her extremely happy. After all, it’s her first grandchild."
"I’ll do it right now, before I talk myself out of it." She picked up her shawl and started to the door. "Thanks Susanna, for being here for me."
"And where else would I be? Do you want me to go with you?"
"No, this I must do alone. I’ll be back in a little while."
Susanna watched through the window as Danielle made her way in the direction of Jenny and Ricardo’s home. She wished she could be a little mouse and see the surprise and joy on Jenny’s face.
Danielle came to the front door and took a deep breath. She tapped and waited for an answer. Maybe no one was home. Too late, Jenny opened the door and smiled at her.
"Danielle! How nice to see you. Come in here and tell us what you’ve been doing. We don’t see enough of you anymore and I miss that." Jenny hugged her and led the way into the parlor where Ricardo sat at his desk. He immediately rose on their entrance and joined his wife on the settee, while Danielle sat on one of the chairs.
After their inquiries about Susanna and David, a stillness filled the room. The two on the couch knew there was a reason for this visit, but they were waiting for the young woman to tell them what it was. She looked worried and Jenny glanced at Ricardo and was happy to see he looked a little agitated also.
Danielle was trying to figure out a way to break the news to them. Should she first explain to Jenny about her and Scott and how they had met. She should tell her she was not forced, by Scott, but loved him dearly. Would Jenny think she was terrible for having a bastard child? "I’m pregnant!" There, that was all that needed to be said.
She watched Jenny’s mouth fall open and looked at Ricardo who was smiling from ear to ear.
"But you haven’t been seeing anyone!" Jenny’s first words were out of her mouth.
Ricardo leaned close to his wife. "How about your son?" He had told her everything. He would not keep a secret like this from his wife.
Finally it dawned on her. "Scott! Of course!" She jumped and ran to Danielle. "This is wonderful news! A grandchild! When are you due?" She turned back to her husband. "We’ve got to get the news to Scott. But how?"
Danielle finally let out her breath she had been holding. Instead of reprimanding her they were both joyous at the news. It was plain that Ricardo had already told Jenny about her and Scott. At least that did not need retelling.
Ricardo walked over and patted Danielle’s hands resting in her lap. "I’m happy for you and Scott both. Wait till he hears! The man is going to be delirious!"
"He’ll probably fall overboard." Was Danielle’s quiet remark.
"Nonsense. He loves you madly, Danielle. This will bring him home to stay."
"He’s never mentioned love to me. I think you’re mistaken." She looked down at her lap.
Ricardo watched her brush a tear from her eyes as she had looked up at him forlornly. "Can’t you see? He must not be forced into a situation for which he has no desire. I would not have a husband, or a father for my baby, but rather a hostage, a prisoner who dreams only of escape." She had closed her eyes then, a small tear rolling silently down her cheek.
He reached down and covered her hands with one of his own. "Scott loves you, Danielle, and would never consider it as being any kind of prison. He is going to be ecstatic at this news. I know the man better than he knows himself. Believe me when I say he loves you. I have no idea how we can find him though. We will just have to wait until he comes home. God! I can hardly wait for the day!" Ricardo smiled at the thought of how he was going to tease the captain.
~ * ~
The days moved on smoothly. Danielle felt so much better now that she had been honest with everyone. Susanna was becoming obsessive in her care and Danielle was beginning to worry about her. She acted like she was going to stay until the baby was born and help Danielle take care of it.
One day when Susanna mentioned what ‘they’ were going to do a shadow of a frown crossed the dark gypsy eyes. "But Susanna, what of David? If he asks you to marry him, what then?"
"He will understand, Danielle. Our love is secure and a few months delay of our marriage will not threaten the feelings we have for each other. Besides," she grinned pertly, "he hasn’t asked me yet."
Time passed. Susanna hovered about Danielle, imposing her motherly advice and help upon the raven-haired girl whose color and vitality had improved daily.
Susanna always insisted on accompanying Danielle on her daily walks, but one day, after much friendly arguing, Danielle persuaded an uncertain Susanna that she was not an invalid and would indeed be able to manage one insignificant stroll about the beach on her own.
"…and besides, my overly-protective friend," she coaxed, "it’s been ages since you and David spent some time together. You’d better give him a little of your tender loving care, or he’ll most likely forget what you look like." Danielle teased.
"Susanna who? He’ll say when next you meet." Her dark eyes flashed in merriment at the consternation showing in Susanna’s expression.
"Now, run along and enjoy yourself." She hugged Susanna good-bye. "I believe I saw David headed for Jenny and Ricardo’s a short while ago. He and Ricardo were going to repair the garden fence this afternoon, but I’m sure they would welcome the interruption."
Susanna scurried into her bedroom, taking up the blue shawl David had given her on her birthday and dashed back into the living room, pushing an errant lock of spun gold back into place.
"Are you sure?" She hesitated at the door looking at Danielle across the room. "Perhaps I shouldn’t"
"Go!" Danielle ordered, sending the other scooting from the house in her haste to comply.
Danielle walked slowly, enjoying her solitude, taking her time along the sandy shoreline. Her cloak around her tiny figure held the secret of her condition safe from any passers-by and she received only admiring glances from the men of the village repairing their nets at the water’s edge.
As she walked back up the beach thinking of the new life growing within her, her thoughts as always turned to Scott. Her heart ached for him, for the feel of his arms around her. More than anything else she wanted him here with her now. She rubbed the nagging backache as she moved back into her cottage.
~ * ~
Quietly, the young woman entered the bedroom, tiptoeing past the little bed where the baby boy, nearly three months old, slept peacefully, his small, pudgy hand with the dimpled knuckles was clasped securely about the leg of his stuffed doll.
She stopped at the side of a larger feather bed and bent low over the sleeping form, barely whispering.
"Danielle, Danielle, it’s Susanna."
Startled, the large lash-framed eyes opened instantly.
"I must talk to you."
Danielle clutched her robe about her shoulders and led the way into the front room. Silently she set a flint to the candle on the table. A look of fear was etched deeply on the face of her friend and Danielle stepped closer, starting to speak.
"Susanna… what?"
"There is trouble, Danielle," she said. "The French know of the pick up spot and will be waiting in ambush for Sir Francis and The Gypsy Witch." Her words came faster and faster, nearing hysteria.
"Where did you hear this?" Danielle demanded. "Have you spoken with Jenny?"
"Yes," Susanna nodded. "I was with her when a messenger delivered the
warning. But Sir Francis and David had already set sail."
"Then there is nothing we can do, now but wait and pray they will escape." Danielle whispered in agony.
"Jenny wants to see you," she said, stifling her tears. "I’ll watch little Scotty for you, while you go."
Danielle was already pulling on her cloak over her robe as Susanna finished speaking.
Jenny was in the kitchen packing a small satchel with food and a flask of water when Danielle knocked at her door.
"Come in, my dear." Jenny beckoned hurriedly, opening the door.
Danielle saw the satchel of provisions in her hand and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I see you’ve already devised a plan."
"I think there is a way to warn Sir Francis, if we hurry."
"But they sailed yesterday."
"Yes, but they were headed for Stanley Point for supplies. They will not leave there until the morning tide."
"Is Ricardo going to warn them?"
"No, Danielle. He is not here. He is on his way to London to handle some matters for Scott, concerning one of the French ships he captured a few months ago."
"Then who else is there we can trust with the message?" Even as the words left her mouth, Danielle was beginning to perceive of the other woman’s plan.
"How?" she asked.
"You can take David’s horse. I remember your talking of the days you used to spend riding in France."
"And my disguise?"
"Obviously, you can’t ride across country in the dead of night dressed as a woman."
"My captain’s garb?" Danielle queried.
"I’ve already laid it out. It’s on the bed in Scott’s room."
Danielle discarded her cloak and sleeping garments, donning the once familiar shirt and pants of a sea captain. The fit was still good, although her breasts strained a little tighter against the shirt. With the jacket buttoned securely, the effect was still believable.
Her hair had grown considerably, but she disguised it by pulling most of it high, sweeping only the sides back, trying it securely in the form of a short pony-tail. With the wide brimmed hat pinned securely in place, she looked at the total picture, in the mirror. Satisfied, she turned to the front door ready to stand inspection under Jenny’s careful scrutiny.
"As always, you look the part." Jenny shook her head wonderingly, and handed Danielle the matched pair of pistols which she tucked into the red sash tied around her waist. "I’ll never understand how such a feminine, beautiful woman can become such a convincing young man, but thank God, you can do it." She motioned Danielle out the door, giving her last minute instructions.
"Of course, once you reach the waterfront, you’ll have little trouble spotting the ship." She hugged the small dark haired woman good-bye.
"David’s horse is already awaiting you at his barn." She called quietly into the darkness at the retreating figure.
"Take care of Scotty," was all Danielle said.
"I will, good luck and God speed."
Fearlessly Danielle sped through the night, her only thoughts belonged to Sir Francis, David and the men of The Gypsy Witch. Her ability as an equestrian had not deserted her in the time away from France and she urged the horse on, relentless in her drive for Stanley Point.
In the clear moonlight night she saw four men approaching, riding abreast, the sounds of their horses drowned out by the pounding hooves of her own steed. So involved in their own good-spirited conversation were they, that they did not notice her advancing on them and continued to take up most of the narrow dirt road.
Without hesitation, she charged through the thick of them, scattering them helter-skelter as a flock of chickens set upon by a fox. Before they could regain control of their skittish mounts, to confront the offender, she was gone, leaving them to wonder at the exact cause of their upset.
After riding some distance further without incident, she slowed the horse to a walk, allowing him to catch his breath. She took some meat and cheese from the satchel and ate greedily, washing it down with a drink of water.
Once more she pressed her steed to a faster pace, shortening the distance between herself and her friends at Stanley Point.
The moon still shone brightly as she drew in the reins, slowing the lathered horse to a walk. The lights of the harbor town were just ahead and she didn’t want to raise any undue attention by riding pell-mell through the streets.
Danielle smiled to herself, thinking of the four riders and their startled cries of indignation, when she dashed through their midst. Slowly she picked her way along the winding streets, working her way toward the waterfront.
When she slid from her horse her legs would have buckled had she not held on to the pommel of her saddle. It had been too long since she had ridden and her muscles screamed in agony. After a few minutes to get her legs to work again, Danielle tied her horse at the far end of a dark alley and proceeded up the street, imitating the rolling gait of a sailor just off his ship, after many months at sea. Carefully she noted each ship, straining into the dark, searching for the familiar masts of The Gypsy Witch. But it was difficult to discern in the darkness.
She reached the end of the docks and still had found no sign of the sleek black-hulled vessel, so she backtracked up the street for a likely looking pub and entered through the swinging doors.
Danielle laid a coin on the bar, purchasing a mug of ale. The full-bodied, heady aroma stung her nostrils when she raised the mug to her lips, pretending to drink, while she looked about the room, hoping to see the familiar face of one of the crew. With the darkened corners and smoke-filled interior it was impossible to see everyone.
A sharp jab in the side caught her off balance and she gasped as a large swig of bitter ale lurched down her throat, leaving her choking and breathless.
"T’ain’t much of a drinker are ye lad?" A swarthy, barrel-chested sailor shouted verbosely, his voice carrying across the room, stilling all conversation.
She ignored his cloddish behavior and set her mug on the bar and brushed at her lapels where some of the brew had spilled. All eyes watched, waiting, hoping for a fight.
With deliberate slowness, she moved away from the bar, walking toward the door. The last thing she needed was a fight. If he came after her she would be forced to shoot him and that would bring the authorities and also the end of her charade.
Time was growing short. If the ship was to be warned in time, she would have to find it soon. Danielle took two steps and a large, callused hand closed on her arm, jerking her about.
"Why… ye’r just a runt," he said, clearly surprised at the thinness of her arm. "I ain’t never seen such a runty fella as ye are," he declared, mockingly.
"Take your scummy paws from my coat," she spoke slowly, her voice low, threatening.
A ragged sneer crossed the huge man’s face. "Ha!" He shouted, giving her a hard push backward, knocking her off balance. She landed squarely in the middle of a table scattering mugs of ale as she fell. At the urging of the table’s occupants, she regained her feet quickly, lest they too join in the fracas.
Carefully Danielle eased her way toward the door once more, never taking her eyes from the scowling seaman. Just as she thought he would let her go without further show of strength, he started toward her again.
Danielle’s eyes darted to the door, judging her distance instantly and decided against further retreat.
"Stay your anger, sailor!" She ordered with deadly assurance.
Heedless of her warning, the sailor pressed forward, shoving chairs and tables from his path as men scrambled for cover.
Danielle’s hand reached beneath her coat, gripping the silver handled pistol tucked in her sash. Slowly she started to pull it out and was stopped short by the black-coiled whip neatly thrust against her breast. Her gaze followed the path of a long, muscled arm to the owner.
Scott’s green eyes winked wickedly, a lazy smile confidently on his face, anticipating the coming attraction.
His presence hit her li
ke a sledge-hammer and her heart started pounding in her chest. But with an almost imperceptible movement of her wrist, she replaced the pistol and grasped the whip. Deliberately she played the length of the whip across the now cleared floor, its tip popping softly, waiting.
Scott stepped back. He braced his feet apart and crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest. His eyes moved threateningly over the rest of the men in the room, checking for any further danger against his fiery gypsy. An anxious seaman trying to get by him to see what was going on ended up with the giant’s elbow in his eye socket and fell back to the floor in pain. He continued to watch while still the fool faced Danielle, ignoring the message of impending doom. Scott smiled.
Blustering and blowing the man stepped forward, his boastful threats fell about her, leaving her unscathed.
She felt invincible. Her pirate was here and nothing could befall her now. "You miserable cur, you motherless scum of the seas," she hissed at the man in front of her. "Stop where you are, or I’ll lay your hide upon this floor in strips so narrow, you can lace your boots with them." Her dark eyes narrowed menacingly.
For the first time he hesitated, reassessing his opponent. The small, too delicate hands, the small frame, the fine boned face. Regrettably, he made a gross miscalculation. A deep growl escaped his lips as he lunged, trying to cross the floor to get at her.
Neatly she side-stepped, leaving him hugging only thin air as he dropped, landing in a disgruntled heap. With deceptive agility he bounced to his feet and squinted around to find her in the smoke-filled atmosphere.
With calm, exact judgment the whip rang out, flaying his shirt from top to bottom. Again it struck, signing his chest and arms with the mark of his own blood.
Surprise clouded the attacker’s face, as he stood, stupidly looking at his wounds. Anger flared and he came at her again.
A crack rent the air and left his face marred from hairline to throat, nearly closing one eye. Once more its deadly song echoed through the room, wrapping neatly about his throat, nearly cutting off his breathing. Mockingly, she cocked an eyebrow in the battered man’s direction.
The Gypsy Witch Page 19
