A World Apart (The Hands of Time: Book 3)

by Irina Shapiro

  Alec was seething, but he said nothing, his body tense and ready for a fight. The two men exchanged a look before charging Alec, their clubs raised about their heads, ready to strike. Valerie landed painfully on her behind as Alec shoved her out of the way in an effort to put some space between her and the men. She sat up, trying to get her bearings as the fight broke out. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening. Valerie looked around in panic, searching for anything that she could use as a weapon to help Alec. He was outnumbered and completely unarmed. She heard a thud as the club found its mark. Alec doubled over in pain as a terrible cry pierced the momentary silence.

  Valerie watched in helpless horror as events seemed to unfold in slow motion. The man who’d been taunting Alec had a look of sudden surprise on his face as he dropped his cudgel and sank to his knees. His mouth opened, a grimace of pain distorting his features. Blood spurted from his thigh as he pressed both hands to it, trying to staunch the bleeding. His face was a mask of incredulity as he looked at the bloody knife in Alec’s hand. Alec held a hand to his own middle, but his eyes were on Bobby, who was advancing on him, club raised. Bobby swung, nearly losing his balance as Alec ducked out of the way, slashing Davey’s arm with the knife. Valerie watched, mesmerized as the man’s sleeve turned almost black with blood, soaking the fabric quickly. Bobby was about to swing again, but seemed to change his mind, backing out of the alley; his club no longer raised. He took one last look at Alec and took off at a run, leaving his injured friend behind. Alec was doubled over now, his coat covered in blood.

  The man who attacked him keeled over in slow motion, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Valerie didn’t care if he died. She needed to get Alec out of there before Bobby came back with reinforcements to finish what they’d started. She pried the bloody knife from Alec’s hand, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him out of the alley. His breathing was shallow as if he couldn’t draw a deep breath, but he was walking on his own.

  “Alec, are you badly hurt? I’m so sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut,” she pleaded, guiding him in the direction of the inn.

  “And why would today be different from any other day?” asked Alec, trying to smile. “I’ll be all right. Help me get my coat off. I don’t want to walk into the inn covered in blood.” Valerie helped him remove his coat, immensely relieved to see no blood on his shirt. The blood wasn’t his. She folded the coat to hide the blood and followed Alec into the inn, walking rapidly to the stairs.

  Chapter 28

  Valerie threw the coat on the floor, bending down to help Alec with his boots. He carefully leaned back until his back was against the propped up pillows, breathing out a sigh of relief.

  “Alec, let me see.” He didn’t protest as Valerie pushed up his shirt to expose his stomach. Alec’s ribs were covered with a livid bruise, which was tinged with blood and starting to swell. It would be terribly painful and tender tomorrow. Valerie carefully felt his ribs.

  “Nothing is broken, just badly bruised,” Alec said, trying to get more comfortable. “It’ll be better in a few days. It just hurts to breathe deeply.” He might have been in pain, but he had a look of satisfaction on his face that made Valerie smile.

  “How did you manage to stab him?” Her insides were still quivering, relieved that Alec hadn’t been hurt worse. Those men could have killed him, and probably would have, had Alec not managed to snatch the knife from his attacker and stab him first.

  “I noticed the dagger at his belt while he was talking, so I waited for my chance to grab it. Unfortunately, I had to let him get close enough to club me. He swung at my head, but I shifted to the side, his club coming down on my ribs instead. I managed to grab the dagger as his friend clubbed me from the other side. I can’t believe his friend just left him there to bleed,” he mused, not sounding particularly concerned.

  “I hope he’s not dead,” said Valerie, imagining what the repercussions of that could be. Alec wouldn’t be very difficult to find should someone come looking, and if the man was dead, he’d be accused of murder, despite the fact that he’d been attacked.

  “I didn’t aim to kill, just deter. If I wanted to kill him, I would have stuck that knife between his ribs. There are no major organs in the thigh. Most likely, he just fainted from shock.”

  Valerie sighed, unlacing Alec’s breeches and pulling them off carefully. He was staying in bed for the rest of the afternoon, so he might as well be comfortable. Alec smiled at her guiltily as she took in his arousal, looking up at him in shock.

  “A good fight always gives you a cockstand,” he said with a grin. “’Tis a natural reaction to bloodlust.”

  “Men!” Valerie muttered, turning away from him, but Alec caught her by the wrist. “Don’t go.”

  “Give me a second,” Valerie said, turning away and untying the laces of her gown. She slipped out of the dress, letting it slide to the floor as she pulled off her chemise and unpinned her hair. She savored Alec’s look of appreciation for a few moments, before getting on the bed and positioning herself between Alec’s legs, her bare breasts brushing against his cock as her hair trailed over his stomach. She gently kissed his bruises, watching his stomach muscles tense as her lips touched the sore spots. She looked up at him, smiling, as her lips made a trail of kisses down his flat stomach until she found what she was looking for.

  Valerie licked the length of Alec’s cock with the tip of her tongue before taking him all in, sucking slowly and rhythmically. Alec closed his eyes, his breath ragged as Valerie continued her task with single-minded determination. She used her tongue to tease him, swirling it around the tip and making him gasp with pleasure, then sucked again, faster and harder. It didn’t take him long to spill himself into her mouth, shuddering with release.

  Valerie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, gazing at him innocently. “All better?”

  “Mmm,” was all he could manage. “I’d like to return the favor, but I’m hurting too much,” he said apologetically.

  “Not to worry. You’ll just have to owe me one. I intend to collect as soon as you feel better. Now just get some rest while I go get us something to eat. I seem to have worked up an appetite.”

  Valerie bent over Alec, kissing his forehead. “Thank God you’re all right, Alec. I was so scared.” Alec just grabbed her and kissed her, tasting himself on her lips.

  Chapter 29

  Louisa gently laid Evie in her cot, watching her face relax in sleep. Her tiny mouth was open just a little; the sooty lashes fanned against her cheek. Louisa tucked a dark strand of hair into the baby’s bonnet and turned to Bridget.

  “She should sleep for a while, I think. She is full to bursting. I think I’ll go into Jamestown, Bridget. I need to speak to Annabel. I know they’ll be moving here by next week, but I don’t think this can wait.”

  “Is it about little Louisa?” asked Bridget, following Louisa from the room. She seemed to be feeling better, but was still pale with purple smudges under her normally bright eyes. Bridget assured Louisa that she was well enough to resume her tasks, but Louisa had her doubts.

  “Yes. She asked Kit to deliver a note to Tom when he went into town, but Tom didn’t answer. According to Kit, he didn’t even read the note, just threw it on the fire. She spends all her time brooding over what will happen once they’re wed. I’ll ask Cook to prepare a basket of goodies. A peace offering can’t hurt.” Louisa was already reaching for her cloak, eager to get out of the house for a few hours.

  “What do ye think Annabel can do?” Bridget asked, practical as ever. She followed Louisa down the stairs toward the kitchen, interested to hear the answer.

  “Maybe she can speak to Tom. I have a feeling that Louisa isn’t as innocent in all this as she pretends to be, but he can hardly blame her. She’s fourteen, whereas he’s a grown man. He knew good and well what he was doing. No one forced his hand. He must accept responsibility for his behavior and make the best of the situation. I know he has his heart set on going to Engla
nd, but that’s out of the question now. Although, maybe he can go and marry her after he gets back in the spring. She’s too young to marry, and I would hate to see her get with child. She’s nothing but a child herself.”

  Bridget looked thoughtful for a moment, obviously remembering something from long ago. Her expression turned serious for a brief moment before she answered Louisa.

  “She is strong enough to bear a child. I was her age when I married and had my first baby. ‘Tis better younger than older, if ye ask me. Girls are resilient at this age. Consummating the marriage would only bring them closer. No young man can remain angry when ruled by his prick. He’s a stubborn one, Tom is. I know he lusts after her; he just won’t let himself admit it. His pride has been hurt, and that will take some mending.”

  “But what can she do to mend it if he won’t let her?” Louisa was at a loss. It’d been a long time since she was a teenager, and the teenagers of her day didn’t get married at fourteen.

  “‘Twould be helpful if there was some other young man with his eye on Louisa. Would mayhap stir up some jealousy, but there’s no one hereabouts who’d fit the bill. Shame, that is. A bit of jealousy can go a long way.” Bridget seemed a little out of breath as she said this, putting her hand to the wall for support.

  “Bridget, are you all right? You haven’t been yourself lately. Would you like to go lie down? I can get Minnie to watch the baby for an hour or two.”

  “Nay, I’m well. ‘Tis that time of the month, that’s all. I get a bit dizzy sometimes. Don’t trouble yerself, Lady Sheridan. I’ll be right as rain by the time ye get back. I enjoy Lady Evie anyhow. She’s such an angel.”

  “When she’s sleeping, you mean?” Louisa smiled. Her daughter was becoming more demanding with every passing day.

  “Nay, she’s always an angel. I like feisty ones. Who wants a baby who lays there like a lump of clay?”

  “Sometimes I wouldn’t mind, especially in the middle of the night. How long do you think until she starts sleeping through the night?” Louisa couldn’t wait to get a full night’s sleep. She was always exhausted these days, not to mention anxious. Between the night feedings and the terrible dreams in which she was constantly searching for Valerie, Louisa was lucky if she got four hours of sleep a night. She sometimes managed a quick nap while Evie was sleeping, but that wasn’t enough. She was dizzy with fatigue, her reflexes not as sharp as before.

  “Oh, mayhap another month or so. She’ll give ye a little a bit of peace afore she starts teething, poor mite. That will not be easy for ye or her. Ye best be going now afore she wakes wanting another feeding,” Bridget added with a chuckle. Evie’s demand for food was legendary.

  **

  The ride into Jamestown was uneventful. The day was cool and crisp, splashes of glorious color contrasting vividly with the unbroken expanse of blue sky. Louisa loved this time of year. The yellow, reds and oranges of the changing leaves reminded her of Central Park in the fall. She used to leave the museum at lunchtime, walking through the park, inhaling the pungent smell of decaying leaves and the smoky aroma of warm pretzels and hot dogs sold by the numerous vendors. That life seemed so far removed from reality. She still thought of her parents often, but being with Valerie soothed some of the pain of losing them.

  Louisa had to admit that she was enjoying the solitude as she drove the trap toward Jamestown, the basket of food on the seat beside her. She rarely got to be alone these days, always surrounded by family or servants. It seemed strange that before she came to find Valerie she lived alone, the mistress of all that space. Louisa couldn’t imagine living alone again after being a part of a large family. It was challenging at times, but rewarding as well. Having Valerie there, especially since the birth of Evie, was invaluable. It was hard enough to have a baby in the twenty-first century, but to have one in colonial Virginia without the benefit of an obstetrician, pediatrician, or any of the modern conveniences, was an act of heroism in Louisa’s opinion. Every time she felt a bout of fear, she reminded herself that her sister managed to raise two children in these primitive conditions, and that with the help of Valerie and Bridget, she would do the same. Evie seemed to be thriving, so all she had to do was take motherhood one day at a time and stop worrying all the time. Valerie would help her.

  As Louisa’s thoughts turned to Valerie, she felt the familiar grip of anxiety squeeze her chest. Where were they? What were they doing? Louisa’s stress increased by the day with Valerie and Alec gone, little Louisa crying her heart out, and Charles and Annabel about to move into Rosewood Manor, adding to the crowding and the discord brewing in the house. With winter coming, they would all be cooped up in the house, stepping on each other’s toes and possibly struggling to make the food last through the winter. Winter was hard enough without a shortage of food.

  Louisa glanced over at the basket she was bringing for Annabel. It contained a pot of jam that Valerie had made during the summer, a jar of honey, and freshly baked oatcakes, provided by Mrs. Dolly. Annabel was famous for her sweet tooth, so Louisa hoped to soften her demeanor by bribing her with sweets. She hoped that Annabel would invite her to stay and share some of the goodies. Louisa had eaten breakfast, but her stomach was already growling. Breastfeeding left her permanently hungry as her body worked overtime to produce milk for her ravenous daughter. An oatcake with some jam would be most welcome, thought Louisa as she drove into town, her peaceful ride at an end.

  Louisa pulled up in front of the house and reined in the horse. A boy of about twelve ran out to help Louisa with the trap and see to the horse while she was inside. He was the son of the cook employed by Charles, and Louisa briefly wondered what would happen to him and his mother once Charles and Annabel came to live at the plantation. She climbed down carefully from the trap. It had rained the day before, so the road was still muddy in places. As Louisa reached for the basket, she swayed dangerously as she lost her footing, her feet sliding under the trap. She tried to grab onto the trap while fighting to regain her balance, but the mud was slippery, and she slid right under the wheels landing in a pool of mud.

  “Oh, damn it all to hell,” Louisa shrieked as cloak and gown became instantly soaked with muddy water, seeping into her undergarments. The boy grabbed her under the arms, pulling her from under the trap with all his might. Louisa tried to push off with her feet, but her boots kept sliding in the mud, making it even more difficult for her to get to her feet. She finally managed to find her footing, looking at the damage to her clothes and the scattered contents of the basket. Annabel was in the doorway, her hand pressed to her mouth in shock. Louisa turned to see what she was looking at. A crowd had gathered behind her, the minister pushing his way to the front. He grabbed Louisa by the arm, looking at her sternly.

  “Lady Sheridan, you stand accused of profanity, which is a very serious crime indeed, according to the laws of the Virginia Colony. You are to be taken to the prison where you will await trial and punishment.” Louisa just gaped in shock as several men stepped from the crowd, seizing her by the arms and dragging her toward the building that housed the so-called prison. It wasn’t used as it was in the modern day as a form of punishment, but more of a holding cell for miscreants awaiting trial. What had she said? She’d been so upset she hadn’t been paying attention. Louisa normally held her tongue, but being upset about all the things going on and deprived of sleep, she’d let herself slip.

  “I’m sorry. It just slipped out,” Louisa pleaded with the minister, who walked ahead of the men, leading the way. “I didn’t mean it.”

  The men pushed her into the tiny cell, shutting the door behind her. The sound of a key turning in the padlock made Louisa shake with fright. These men were serious and had no intentions of letting her off with a slap on the wrist. She looked around the cell in an effort to calm herself. The only light in the tiny room came from a small window cut into the wooden logs. The window wasn’t large enough to climb through, but just enough to give some light and much-needed air. The cell reeked of
excrement, sweat, and fear. Anyone who’d been here knew that they wouldn’t escape without punishment. In colonial Virginia, there was no such thing as being found innocent, especially since eager citizens were always willing to testify on behalf of the colony. Several people had heard Louisa’s outburst, so she was doomed.

  Louisa sank down on the hard bench, ignoring her wet garments and muddy shoes. They were the least of her concerns now. The punishment for profanity could be severe. Thank God she hadn’t blasphemed. She’d heard that the last person to do so had a hole bored into their tongue with a hot poker. Louisa began to shake as she thought of Evie. She’d need to be fed in less than two hours. Her baby would go hungry without her milk. Louisa slumped on the bench, crying her heart out. She hadn’t been this scared since the pirates attacked the Gloriana.

  Chapter 30

  The feeble light coming through the window began to change from the golden haze of midday to the purple shadows of early evening. No one had come to talk to Louisa or bring her any food or water. She wasn’t even hungry –- just terrified. Large, ugly circles appeared on the front of her gown, reminding her once again that her daughter needed to be fed. Louisa pulled down her chemise, expressing the milk into the corner of the cell. She’d be soaked and in pain by morning if she didn’t empty her breasts. Where was Kit? Did he even know what happened to her? He had to. Annabel had watched Louisa frog-marched to the jail, her mouth open in astonishment, and her eyes as wide as saucers. She had to have told Charles. Annabel was still upset about the situation with Tom, but she was a kind soul, always eager to help anyone in need. She wouldn’t leave Louisa to languish in prison simply out of spite.

  Louisa leaned her head against the rough wooden logs of the cell, a hysterical giggle escaping as she continued to squirt milk into the corner. How did she get into this mess? She tried not to think of what they would do to her come morning. She prayed they would just put her in stocks for a few hours, but she knew that was unlikely. Colonial authorities meted out cruel punishments in order to set an example to others. She might be tied to a post and whipped, or even branded with a hot iron. This was no Scarlet Letter where Hester Prynne got off by having the letter “A” stitched to her bodice. This was the real world, and if she was sentenced to display a letter, she’d be displaying it on her flesh.