“You’re leaving?” his father croaked out. “But where shalt you go?” Anvil stepped in front of his son and blocked his path to the steps. “Please, Seth, let me explain,” he begged.
“Can you explain your actions? There’s no excuse to be given for what you’ve done! Do you have any idea as to what kind of life you’ve sentenced Myra to live when you forced her into marrying that dastardly man?” His father looked down, and Seth was surprised by Anvil’s open embarrassment. “Aye, I think you do know,” Seth raged out. “That makes this all that much more incredulous.”
“I did it for you, Seth,” his father called out as Seth made his way up the steps. “I did it to protect you!”
Seth whirled around from the top of the steps and yelled. “I didn’t need protected! Do you not see that?”
“I’m sorry, Seth. I truly am sorry.”
“It is too late for apologies, father!”
“What’s going on here?” Margaret rushed down the steps past Seth and reached for her father. Wrapping her arms around him, she pierced a daggering stare at Seth. “What’s this about, Seth? What have you done?”
Seth shook his head and then nodded toward his father. “I’ll let him explain. Perhaps he’ll even be honest and tell the truth this time, as this has affected you as well. Perhaps then, you can show a bit of compassion for Myra, as she has done you a great favor by blocking your marriage to Frederickson.”
Seth finished ascending the steps two by two and glanced behind him once he reached the landing. He saw his father’s hand cover his face and he wept. Seth had never seen his father cry, nor ever thought him capable. Yet Seth didn’t feel regret. Nay, only one issue mattered to him. Return to England and find Mary. Then, upon his return, he’d reclaim Myra as his, whether she remained married or not.
CHAPTER TWENTY
As jailors go, Rico Benitez wasn’t a bad sort. He generally stayed away to partake in gambling, and the times he stayed in residence, he was surprisingly pleasant and accommodating. In the months that he had been there, Myra would even venture to call him friend. As being such, neither Myra or Lucia felt need to leave Frederickson’s residence, especially after Zachary had written a couple missives and informed her of his extended stay in Baltimore. He had included his words of love and devotion, as well. Myra scoffed at that, and wondered if he was legitimately cracked to believe she’d want to read such endearments from him.
“Is that another letter from Mister Frederickson,” Lucia asked as she entered the sitting room.
Myra glanced at the letter that sat on the table at her side. She placed her needlepoint atop her lap and reached for Zachary’s letter. “He states he’ll be home within one month’s time.” Myra sighed. “I can only hope Seth arrives from England before that time.”
“And the babe as well,” Lucia added.
Myra laughed. “The child shalt not wait a fortnight before he arrives, let alone a month.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “He is much too feisty to remain in confinement.”
“You are so confident it is a boy, Myra. What if you’re wrong?” she teased.
“It shall surprise me greatly,” she smiled.
“Has Mister Benitez yet said anything to you about the child?”
Myra shrugged. “He acts as though I’ve been only getting fat, and I often wonder if he does so in order to be polite or is just plain daft.”
“Ah, milady,” Benitez said as he entered the room. With his hand on his chest he cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Tis not a man’s place to approach a woman about such delicate matters.”
Myra blushed. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“So I gathered, Senora.” He sat on the sofa across from Myra and next to Lucia. He stared at Myra for a few moments before he poured a cup of tea from the tray that sat between them. “Yet since you have broached the subject,” he added, and left the subject open for Myra’s explanation.
Myra looked at Lucia for help, as she was unsure how to respond to Mister Benitez’s request. Lucia grabbed her handkerchief, lowered her head, and began nervously rubbing at the edge of the sofa. “I believe I may have spilled some of my tea,” she said absently.
When there was still no response to his question, Benitez grinned. “And what of you, Myra, do you have an invisible stain that you wish to tend in order to avoid my question?”
Myra shifted uncomfortably. “With all due respect, Mister Benitez, I don’t see how my condition is any of your business.”
“In normal circumstances I’d agree completely with you, Senora. Yet as I am privy to the fact that you haven’t yet bedded your husband, and I’m quite sure he isn’t aware of your condition. Thus, I must consider where that shall leave me upon his return.”
“I fail to see the correlation,” Myra said confused.
Lucia stopped her incessant cleansing of the brown walnut and leather sofa and her eyes grew wide. Unlike Myra, she understood what he meant. “Oh my! Mister Frederickson shall mayhap believe the child is Rico’s!” Lucia absently grabbed his hand and her mouth went agape.
Benitez nodded his head to Lucia and smiled. “Precisely,” he said. Again, he looked at Myra. “As you can see, tis a problem that is unfortunately my business, as I am most definitely assured that I played no part in your present condition.”
“I didn’t even consider that possibility,” Myra said, apologetically, and she raised her hand to her mouth and covered her surprise. “You’ve shown us much kindness during your time here, Mister Benitez, and I assure you, Mister Frederickson will not be left with any misunderstanding as to the paternity of this child. I’ll clearly relay to him that you are not responsible.”
“And what if he offers no time for explanations and decides to call me out?”
“Then by all means, Mister Benitez, shoot him.”
Benitez laughed.
Lucia and Myra then joined him in his laughter. That was, until Myra folded over, grabbed her belly, and screeched out in pain.
“Myra,” Lucia called out, and ran to her side. “Is the child coming?
“Something’s wrong,” Myra cried out. They looked downward and a massive spill of blood seeped through Myra’s lavender day dress.
Benitez rose and took her by the arm and helped her to stand, but Myra was unable and collapsed into his arms. He scooped Myra up into his arms and called to Lucia, “Fetch the physician!”
Lucia ran out the door and Benitez carried Myra upstairs to her room. With no care for her modesty, Benitez helped her remove her soiled clothing, cleaned her up, and replaced her garment with a clean shift. Myra was well aware that her situation was dire and gave no care to the impropriety of the situation.
After Myra screamed out again, Benitez grabbed her hand. “The baby shall not wait for the physician, Myra.” He looked her into the eyes, and Myra was thankful for his strength. He was calm, patient, and offered more courage than she thought possible for any man who was forced into the delicate matters of birthing. “We’re going to have to go at this task ourselves,” he said.
“Have you ever done this? Birthed a baby?” Her voice indicated her fear, and came so weakly that she thought she may lose consciousness.
“Ah, Senora, we shall manage just fine. Tis your luck that my mother was a midwife and spoke often of her techniques.” He propped her legs into birthing position, and sopped up the blood flow that continuously poured. “We must do this now, Myra,” he said softly. “Else you and the child may not survive otherwise.”
Myra nodded her head.
Once he ordered her to push, she complied, and after she attempted a few harder pushes, she screamed in agony and a child’s cry resounded within the room. Myra felt as though all the life had drained from her, but she managed a smile at the child who he held within his hands, which she immediately noted held a strong resemblance to Seth with thick blond tufts of hair and blue eyes.
Benitez placed him on her bosom. “Tis a son,” he announced.
; “I shall give him my father’s name, Jonathon Isom,” Myra said, proudly. She looked down at all the blankets that the blood had soiled, as well as the blood that stained Benitez’s shirt and arms. She felt the blood still flow from her, too, and she began to feel faint. “I’m going to die, aren’t I, Rico?” No sooner had the words left her lips, Myra fell into unconsciousness.
* * *
The smoke consumed her.
Myra roused awake by the smoke and flames that assailed her senses. “Lucia,” Myra called, and she wildly pushed away the many layers of blankets that were atop her. Yet when she tried to stand, a bout of dizziness nearly befell. Although addled by sickness, she remembered. “Jonathon!”
Benitez kicked the door open with his booted foot and barged into the room. The baby was safely tucked away in the crook of his arm inside his waistcoat, and the child wildly cried out his objection.
“Tis the Cavaliers,” he added. “Zachary’s men arrived from the docks and The King’s men have come to make their arrests. The fools have set the house aflame in order to draw them out!”
“Lucia? Where is Lucia?” Myra cried out. She stumbled as she reached for her cloak, but managed to put it on over her chemise.
“She’s safe. She was able to get out from below.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “We are not as fortunate. The staircase has crumbled and we shall need to find another direction.”
“The hidden passage!” she proclaimed, and pointed near the hearth. “Tis in there, and it leads to several areas of the house.” She staggered to the door, and struggled to stay upright on her feet. “One passage leads to the rear of the house and through the servants’ quarters where there is an exit. If not yet breached by fire, we mayhap escape that route.”
“Can you make the distance in your condition,” he asked, as he held her by the arm for support. “You’ve been unconscious a sennight and still weak.”
“Do I have a choice?” she smiled wryly, and she entered the small doorway and into the dark corridor.
To their relief, the passageway was free from fire and smoke, and nothing impeded their path to the servants’ quarters, which hadn’t yet been exposed by fire. When they reached the outside, Benitez handed Myra the baby, who coughed and sputtered by the smoke that wafted throughout the air.
“Tis cold and we must find shelter for you and Jonathon,” he said.
“Who goes there,” a man called, and charged toward them from the other end of the garden.
Rodrigues lowered his head, as if not to be seen. “This shall not bode well for me,” he whispered. “Tis I who they have come for, as well as the others.”
“Surely your crimes have not been such as that,” she said, hard-pressed to believe that someone who had shown such kindness was a surreptitious rogue within.
I’m a privateer, Senora, and the bastard son of a privateer to whom was reared by an English whore…Tis in my blood to be a scoundrel,” he smiled. “As such, I am certain they have some due cause to arrest me.”
The man approached and raised his matchlock musket at Benitez. “What is your name and position within this household?” he demanded.
“He’s my maid’s husband.” Myra interjected. Realizing Benitez’s accent, although faint in dialect, worried it would reveal his identity, and added, “He’s a mute.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Rico grin.
“And who are you?” the man demanded.
“I am Lady Myra of Brunnington,” she said angrily. “Tis my husband’s home you just burned down.”
“You are the wife of Zachary Frederickson?”
“Aye.”
“Are you aware of his acts of piracy upon our own English ships, madam?” he asked angrily.
“I know naught of my husband’s affairs. He shall be returning from Baltimore within a fortnight. I would advise you to speak with him on such matters,” she said. “If true, I shall hope you punish him to the full extent of English law.”
“And that we shall,” the man said. He looked again at Benitez with derision. “I’ve yet to hear his name,” he stated, and nodded Benitez’s direction.
“Oh Myra, you are all safe!” Lucia called and ran toward them. She wrapped her arms around her and Jonathon.
“Tis the maid in which he is married,” Myra said to the man.
Lucia looked at her queerly. “I am? Aye, I am,” she said to the man.
“Mister and Mrs. Anders,” Myra supplied. “Now, if there’s nothing further, I have an infant in which I now find need to shelter since I no longer have a home.” The man looked properly embarrassed, and Myra wondered if he only then noticed that she had a child with her.
“I apologize for the damage to your home, milady, but it was by way of the Governor’s order.” He began to back away. “Fare well, milady,” he said, and after a curt tip of his hat, he walked away.
“Tis best you leave, Rico,” she said, concerned once the Cavalier walked away and out of their sight. “Certainly Zachary will understand why you needed to flee. Find safe passage out of the colonies before they capture you.”
He took her by the hand and bowed over it. “T’was very pleasant to have made your acquaintance, Senora,” he said, and he kissed her hand. “I truly hope that our paths cross again someday.”
Myra nodded. “I would be delighted if that should be so, Senor Rico Benitez. Farewell and I shall pray you find your way to safety.”
He began to walk away, but paused a moment and turned around and returned to them. He pulled Lucia into his arms, and kissed her hard and long, and she returned his kiss, as she reached her arms around him and held him tight.
Benitez pulled away and stared adoringly into Lucia’s eyes and smiled. “And you, Senorita, I will most definitely meet again someday. That, I promise.” He released her from his embrace and walked away.
“I knew he fancied you,” Myra said, grinning.
Lucia stood there, stunned, and her fingers went to her lips. “Twould seem so.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE As they had nowhere else to go, Myra and Lucia found themselves at the front door of the Preston home. With the baby in tow, as well as the hour so late and the weather turning bitterly cold, they knew they needed to find him shelter.
“Tis not going to pleasant, I suspect,” Lucia whispered, and she nervously shifted from one foot to the other.
“I suspect you’re right. “Yet we shall see what happens since we have naught for another option.” Myra swallowed hard and knocked on the door, and then sighed heavily as she glanced at Lucia. “Let us pray tis not Margaret who receives us,” she quietly added.
Margaret answered the door.
“Excuse us for coming at such a late hour, but we need your help,” Myra quickly blurted out as she hoped to prevent being disregarded before Margaret slammed the door shut on her. However, she didn’t. Margaret stared at her for a moment, and Myra was completely taken aback when Margaret smiled. It wasn’t spiteful, nor mean, and wasn’t even misconstrued into a being grimace, but an actual warm and pleasant smile. Myra didn’t know what to make of it.
“Is that the baby? Seth’s baby?” she asked excitedly. “I saw you coming down the lane and so prayed he made his safe arrival into this world. Seth shall be well pleased.”
Myra and Lucia didn’t hide their astonishment, and they glanced in each other’s direction with their mouths agape. Myra didn’t reply but positioned Jonathon securely into Margaret’s awaiting arms, and she received him with excitement.
“No one could ever deny you’re a Preston with those eyes,” she said, and leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “Now, give Auntie Margaret a smile,” she cooed.
“There was a fire at the Frederickson home,” Myra interrupted, and Margaret looked up at her. “We have nowhere to go and Seth said if we shall need refuge for any reason, to come here.”
“As Seth has requested it, you are most welcome to stay at our home, Myra.”
Margaret opened the door wider and allowed them to make thei
r entry. It didn’t pass Myra’s notice that Margaret didn’t ask about Zachary’s safety as he was not with them, and she wondered if perhaps Margaret no longer cared about him. Particularly since she hadn’t shown any sign of ill feelings toward her upon their arrival.
“We appreciate your kindness as we have nowhere else to go,” Myra said, and smiled.
“Father and Seth are in the study. I shall go and let them know you are here.” She quickly scurried off down the hallway.
“Wait!” Myra called after her. “Seth is back? He is home?” she asked excitedly.
Margaret turned around and her smile broadened. “Aye, he arrived home a couple of hours ago. He was eager for morning to arrive so he may see you, but now that you are here, he’ll be in great merriment, especially to see him,” she said, and nodded her head down toward Jonathon, who still remained in her arms.
“Myra!” From the stairway, a young child with long black curls that bounced as she descended each step ran toward her. The girl’s arms flailed widely open and a smile, that nearly overtook her face, appeared with great eagerness to see Myra. “Tis so good to see you; I’ve missed you so,” the girl cried.
“Mary,” Myra called out, and ran toward Mary to embrace her. “Thank God, you’re safe,” Myra said, and wrapped her arms tightly around her and wept. Myra pulled her back and examined her closely. “Did he hurt you? Did Ashton harm you in any way?”
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