Moonstone Obsession

by Elizabeth Ellen Carter

  “He told me of his home and the stories of the men chained beside him. He wanted to know what England was like. I told him of my home with my mother, sister, and father.

  “Most of the other crew treated the Africans like cattle and I mightn't have thought much about them either if not for Jacob.”

  William procured a replacement glass from a tray and poured himself another whiskey. He sat heavily in a chair and took a mouthful of the alcohol, hesitating before he continued.

  “Because of the heat and the first leg of the voyage out of Guinea, conditions on board ship were nearly putrid to begin with. And you know that if the weather is against you, the Atlantic crossing may be two and a half months of hell.

  “Well, after just three weeks at sea, the forces of hell were unleashed. We hit a run of violent storms that followed us for two weeks and we lost three crewmen overboard. It was a mess.

  “But if things were bad for the crew, they were worse for those below decks.

  “Vomit, blood, faeces… the smell below got so bad the crew slept on deck for the fresh air rather than spend too long in their quarters below.

  “It was another week before I could speak to Jacob again. He told me that there were dead bodies below that had been there since the storms began and now more people were becoming sick.

  “I told the captain but he was indifferent. He was more concerned about repairing the damage to the ship in order to make up lost time to Jamaica. He wouldn’t listen until some of the crew started falling ill.”

  “Dysentery?” queried the Colonel.

  “Yes,” answered William. “We were ordered to pull the slaves up in chained groups. In each line of seventy between seven and ten were dead or dying. The dying we lay on the deck to either recover or die. The dead we simply threw overboard.

  “I didn’t know where Jacob was. In fact I had no idea what he looked like—I’d never seen him in the light of day—so I started whistling the lullaby, hoping he was one of the living.

  “His chain was one of the last to be pulled out. He was weak but he looked at me as I whistled, and he smiled. The men either side of him were dead, by the looks of the corpses, for at least three days.

  “I unchained Jacob myself and carried him to where the sick lay dying. He was shorter than me but still weighed far too little for a man. Cramps seized his body. I could do nothing.

  “I laid him down on the deck and, as I did so, he whispered to me ‘see you in Heaven, my brother’. Then another seizure took him and he died.”

  William shifted restlessly in his chair for a moment then threw back his glass of whiskey in a single gulp. He suddenly realised Lady Catherine was weeping silently, tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, “but some things need be told.”

  “You are forgiven, Captain Rosewall,” she replied in a breaking voice. “I believe you are right.”

  Pickering slipped his arm around her. “Yes,” said the Colonel, “go on if you wish, Captain. It does bear telling.”

  William looked about the room, then stood and placed his empty glass on the mantelpiece. Looking down into the fire, he directed his comments to no one in particular.

  “I don’t pretend that I’ve studied the works of Voltaire or discussed Enlightenment philosophy in fashionable salons, or know that much about theology,” he said.

  “But I do hope there’s a Heaven for Jacob’s sake because if anyone deserves a place there he does and I do so want there to be a Hell for those who profit from this day after day.

  “We talk about the high-minded ideals of egalitarian common humanity or because they are our brothers in the eyes of God, and yet the world persists in continuing this cursed trade because it makes money.”

  With that William muttered an excuse me and left the room.

  Lady Catherine allowed her silent tears to become an audible sob as Colonel Pickering held her.

  Edgar kept his eyes to the carpet while Comte Alexandre poured himself a large measure of brandy.

  Selina turned wide blue eyes to James, tears just starting to drip over lashes.

  “I had no idea,” she whispered. “He’s never spoken of this before.”

  Then more strongly, “I’m going to go after him.”

  “Don’t Selina,” advised James, stroking her hand when it lay on the little table. “Give him some time. He’s raised ghosts from his past tonight. He needs time to lay them to rest.”

  * * *

  Some time towards midnight James walked into the conservatory. By lamplight it looked deserted, but he caught a movement in the shadows.

  James elevated the chimney of a hurricane lamp and drew on a cigar until the end caught light and glowed. He inhaled strongly and expelled the smoke in a long controlled breath. After a moment, he changed his mind and spoke.

  “I have another one of these if you’re interested.”

  There was silence for a long moment.

  “Yes, I think I will.”

  William emerged from the shadows to accept the cigar. He lit it on the lantern as James had done.

  “How is Selina?”

  “She’s concerned about you,” replied James.

  “I’ll make sure I see her before returning to Newquay in the morning. Does she know what’s going on?”

  “Some… certainly not all of it.”

  William sighed. “She deserves to know the truth. I like you Penventen, but just… just do the right thing, will you?”

  “I promise. Upon my life,” James vowed. “This nightmare should be over after the ball and I will tell her everything, even if she should hate me, she will have nothing but my honesty.”

  Selina had not meant to eavesdrop; she was simply walking by the conservatory to fetch a shawl when she heard her name. There she had stopped and lingered in the shadows outside, listening to the two men who meant the most to her in the world.

  Now Selina briskly continued her original errand, but apprehension settled in her chest.

  After the ball might be too late if; false or not, Viscount Canalissy did have evidence against James and which also implicated William. She was under no illusion that Canalissy would not want to exact a price for his silence, and wondered whether she had it in her to enter such a bargain.

  Chapter Nineteen

  24 July 1790

  Free from the stench and fetid air of London in the summer, the green open spaces and bracing sea air of Cornwall attracted the well-to-do every year. Both aristocrats and successful merchant families rubbed shoulders without class distinction.

  One of the grandest families of England's south-west peninsula was that of Thomas Pitt.

  Successful trade with India—including the discovery of the four hundred and ten carat Pitt Diamond—had made him very rich indeed, and much of the family wealth was invested in the family seat of Boconnoc House at Lostwithel, a magnificent estate first noted in William the Conqueror’s Domesday Book.

  Each summer the Pitt family staged a grand occasion at Boconnoc, and their decision to hold a masquerade this year had created one of the most anticipated events on the calendar.

  As the guests from Penventen Hall arrived on the Friday afternoon, staff swarmed the lawns, hard at work erecting four large white marquees and setting up trestle tables, as well as staging for the orchestra. By Saturday evening, the gardens would be transformed into a wonderland of lantern festooned trees, with still more lamps clustered together to offer pools of light at strategic points. At nightfall, lines of torches would be lit to illuminate a path from the ballroom to the marquees.

  Like many of the other guests, those from Penventen Hall would spend the entire weekend.

  Selina found herself sharing a room with Edith and, although they had only been together for an hour, Selina was exhausted. The girl was like a flea in a bottle and most of her jumping about was related to Lieutenant Roger.

  “Do you think he's here yet? I wonder where he’s staying?” Edith pondered uselessly. “D
on’t you think he’ll be magnificent in his dress uniform? Do you think he’ll recognise me in my costume?”

  After the first twenty minutes, Selina realised an occasional uh-hmm was the only answer Edith actually required, and after an hour, a summons by Lady Margaret was a welcome distraction.

  Selina lightly tapped on her door. “You called for me?”

  The older woman turned from her writing desk and waved her hand beckoning Selina in.

  “Good, I’m glad you’re here,” she replied crisply. “I want to talk to you about your costume for the masquerade.”

  Selina was surprised. She’d been keeping her Greek costume a surprise for days. Only Mary had seen it because she’d helped with the sewing.

  “Don’t look at me like that young lady. I know what’s been going on. I want to see what you’re going to wear.”

  She nodded toward the anteroom.

  “You can get changed in there.”

  Selina was stunned.

  “Don’t dawdle girl! I’m not getting any younger!”

  * * *

  James closed the door to his room as soon as Jackson came in with a parcel from London that awaited his arrival at Boconnoc House. That was a surprise. He had expected a note, a letter perhaps, but not a parcel.

  He cut the string with a knife and ripped open the brown paper wrapping, uncovering fabric in a dark green. A small note folded in half sat on top:

  I heard you couldn’t make your mind up, so I’ve taken the liberty of deciding for you.

  Wear this to the masquerade and watch out for the sheriff and his men.

  – Percy

  “What the hell? Is this some kind of joke?” spat James.

  Jackson picked up each piece of fabric in turn. It was a short waist coat in twill and there, in felt, a close fitting hat with a forward pointing brim with a large brown quill.

  “I think Percy intends you to go to this shindig as Robin Hood.”

  * * *

  Selina looked at herself in the full-length mirror. What on earth had she been thinking? She was half naked.

  The crisp white cotton tunic featured a low scoop neck held at the shoulders with two gold coloured buttons about an inch in diameter that looked like coins. Gold cord threaded through a pocket beneath her breasts to emerge behind, where it wrapped around her back, before criss-crossing at the front to emphasise her slim waist. The cord, weighted with gold coloured glass beads, adorned the ends and fell from her side.

  Her feet were shod in simple sandals to which she had added thin gold cord to act as thongs that criss-crossed from ankle to knee.

  However, her skirt was obscenely short; it only just covered her knees.

  At the time, Selina had figured a moon goddess like Diana the Huntress would not hunt in ankle skimming skirts, but probably wouldn’t do it in garters and sheer silk stockings either. However, she now realised that to go bare-legged would also be far too scandalous.

  Entering a major gathering with bare arms was daring enough.

  As she looked at herself now, she wondered in horror what Lady Margaret would say.

  She closed her eyes. Well, it was too late now. She had several inches of fabric that might make the costume more acceptable, but they were lying in a sewing box in her room back at Penventen Hall.

  Selina gave a long loving look at her cape, an evening seascape of deep blues, greens, and purples highlighted with a rising golden full moon on silk. It had taken her the better part of the week to paint it. If she was to have only one reminder of James’ love for her, then let it be this and let the whole world see.

  She fastened her cape to the buttons at the shoulders and let it fall to her hips.

  “I’m waiting!” Lady Margaret called from the other room.

  Selina sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.

  The older woman’s eyes widened in surprise. She crooked her finger three times, beckoning the young woman. Selina walked forward three paces and stopped.

  Lady Margaret rotated her index finger once, slowly. Selina moved to comply, afraid of the expression she might see when she finished the turn.

  Grinning from ear to ear was not in the catalogue of expressions Selina expected.

  “Well done, my girl!” she enthused. “If I were fifty years younger, I’d be jealous.

  “I’m glad you’ve put that nonsense of going into service behind you. If that idiot grandson of mine can still wed Abigail after seeing you tonight, then we’ll know that horrendous monster has already sliced off his manhood. As for you, you'll have your pick of suitors throwing themselves at your feet, dowry or not.”

  Selina choked.

  “There, there, sit down and take a glass of water,” Lady Margaret directed. “No, better still a glass of brandy. I'll join you.”

  Selina sank onto one of the delicate bedroom chairs, not trusting herself to speak. Lady Margaret unlocked the travelling tantalus on her dressing table and meted out two small glasses of brandy. She passed one to Selina and sipped delicately at her own, surveying the costume once more.

  “It's incomplete,” Lady Margaret announced. She turned her back on Selina and opened her jewellery box. Selina allowed herself a sip of brandy which burned her throat.

  “You need these.” Lady Margaret placed in Selina’s hands earrings of cascading moonstones set in silver. “They’re a gift from me to you. You may keep them.”

  Selina was nearly speechless. “They’re beautiful,” she breathed, “thank you.”

  The afternoon sunlight falling through the window caused the stones to glow and seemed throw moonbeams across each stone in turn.

  “The second piece is only a loan,” said Lady Margaret softly, and she revealed a crescent moon hair ornament about three inches in height made from a single piece of mother of pearl.

  “I wore it when I was about your age and I had intended to pass it down to my daughter, but now I intend to pass it on to my grandson’s wife.”

  She gently twisted Selina’s loose hair and firmly brought the pin down to hold the ornament in place. Mahogany curls framed her face.

  “There,” she said examining her work with satisfaction.

  Her expression softened as she saw small tracks of tears make their way down Selina’s face.

  “Shh, shh! There’s no place for tears,” she soothed, patting Selina affectionately on the shoulder. “You love my grandson, do you not?”

  “I do.”

  “Then have faith that this disorder will sort itself out. Don’t give up on him and don’t give up on yourself.”

  * * *

  The reception hall was a zoo—literally. A pride of guests were dressed as lions and tigers, at least two wore large head dresses that turned them into giraffes, another four wore smaller versions and appeared as horses and zebras.

  Selina descended the staircase as the Goddess Diana and immediately found herself the subject of whispers by some women, and admiring glances by many more men.

  In elaborate costumes that covered their faces or in masks, everyone was unrecognisable. Selina would have been hard pressed to have known Edith if she had not helped her into her fetching shepherdess costume. At least the tall shepherd’s crook made her easy to spot in a crowd.

  As she made her way through the ballroom to the marquees outside, Selina brushed shoulders with kings and queens, pirates and Vikings, fairies and hobgoblins.

  A glass of champagne was pressed into her hand as she emerged through the French doors to the lawn.

  Edith had disappeared from view leaving Selina to be carried along by the crowd to the marquees.

  The orchestra had already started playing lively country tunes—no minuets would be danced tonight. Despite the wealth, renown, and nobility of the guests, the ball would be informal, perhaps even bordering on bacchanal.

  Selina’s arm was grasped by a complete stranger and she found herself amidst the dozens of dancers. It was five dances with three unknown men before she begged off and backed away
from the throng.

  She skirted the edges of the marquee hoping to identify a familiar face when she bumped into a masked Robin Hood.

  “Excuse me,” they said reflexively, then the light of recognition dawned on them both.

  Although dressed nowhere near as elaborately as some of the other guests, James looked magnificent in his tan breeches with a light-weight epee hung at his waist. A white long sleeved peasant shirt was tied loosely at the neck, and his costume finished off with a Lincoln Green waist coat and feathered cap.

  His eyes beneath the mask glittered darkly as they raked down Selina’s form. He looked dangerous and Selina’s heart beat faster.

  The look of desire thrilled her and something mischievous rose in her. She turned in a circle, the silk of her cape fluttering and giving movement to the sea it depicted.

  “Do you like it?” she asked innocently.

  James had recognised the seascape and the full moon instantly, and desire coursed through him.

  He snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest and held her there. “I’m not letting you out of my sight dressed like that,” he told her.

  “James! Someone will see us,” she protested.

  “Do you care?”

  “What about your mother and Abigail?”

  “Damn the both of them,” he bit out harshly, causing a couple of people to look in their direction. He glared back and pulled Selina from the shelter of the marquee towards the gardens and into the night. James said nothing until they were far enough away from the crowds.

  A pool of light cast by a collection of two inch high oil lamps highlighted a garden seat hidden from view of the party by a stand of flowering red azalea shrubs, but they did not sit.

  Once safely hidden from sight, James tore off his mask and gave her a crushing kiss. Selina clung to him tightly.

  His lips blazed a trail across her face to her ears and her neck before claiming her mouth again.

  Selina responded with equal passion. Her nipples hardened under the light fabric and she pressed herself against him restlessly. He stilled her movement with his hands on her buttocks, pressing her core against his growing erection.

  “Have I told you that you beautiful tonight?” he asked, breath still ragged from their kiss.