“Nay,” she assured. “I only saw him that first night when he arrived at Brunnington. He had my things packed and immediately sent me away to live in the country with one of his courtesans, and she was very kind to me.”
“And it was fortunate that the servant who had performed the task of packing her things finds as much distaste for Ashton as you,” Seth interrupted, as he walked into the hall. “She was more than accommodating and offered the woman’s direction in order for me to find Mary. She said her name is Agatha, and she sends her regards,” he smiled. “She was very relieved to hear that you are alive and well.”
Agatha had been with her family since before Myra had been born, and she was thankful that she was the one who assisted Seth, especially since she’d keep her silence on who had taken Mary. Myra turned to Seth and closely embraced him. He looked in good health, and handsome as she remembered in his deep blue breeches accompanied with a matching waistcoat. She closed her eyes and gave a quick prayer of appreciation for his safe return. She stared into his alluring blue eyes and she saw that he was as eager to kiss her as she was him. Yet it was already inappropriate enough the way they intimately held one another, and Myra didn’t risk appalling the onlookers by additional improprieties.
“Tis good to see you are safe, as well,” she said, and she reluctantly released him.
Jonathon wailed in Margaret’s arms, and Seth spun around on his heels and faced them.
“The babe has been born,” he said happily. He hurried to Margaret and took the baby from her arms and placed him carefully into his own.
“Tis a son,” Myra said, proudly.
“And his name?”
“Jonathon Isom.”
“Your father,” he said, and smiled with pride as he looked down upon his son. “You shall carry the name proudly.” He then turned to Myra. “And what of you?,” he asked. “Have you fared well in my absence? Have you been safe?” There was concern in his eyes when he swept a thorough glance, and examined her for any signs that she’d been harmed.
“Very safe,” she said. “Zachary has been gone since that night we last met, before you departed, but he’s due back within a fortnight.”
Margaret reached for Jonathon and removed him from Seth’s arms. “I shall take him to the nursery. Father had one built in anticipation of children after he thought I’d be betrothed to Zachary,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Margaret,” Myra said, sorrowfully.
“Tis fine.” She shook her head and smiled. “Seth explained all that has happened and tis I who offers my apologies to you Myra. You truly saved me from a terrible fate. My behavior toward you was reprehensible.” She walked to Myra and kissed her on the cheek. “I shall be honored to call you sister someday soon.” She nodded to Lucia and Mary, and they followed her up the mahogany stairs.
She and Seth watched as the ladies walked up the stairs and the moment they were completely alone, Seth gathered Myra into his arms and soundly kissed her. “Tis good to feel you in my arms again,” he said with a heavy breath.
“Tis good to be felt,” she teased.
Seth laughed and pulled her closer and he kissed her long and hard. He cupped her face and stared longingly into her eyes. He said nothing, as nothing needed to be said. He lowered his head to kiss her again, but Myra felt Seth’s body stiffen beneath her hands and he slowly pushed her away. Seth looked over her shoulder and she followed his stare. Anvil stood behind her, and his expression displayed that of annoyance.
Myra didn’t know what reaction to expect from him. As for her, she was still angered and wished she didn’t need to see him again. Yet he was Seth’s father, and for that, she owed him some amount of respect. “Mister Preston,” she greeted, and respectfully bowed her head.
“As you are a married woman, this isn’t appropriate,” he said, waving his hand toward them and clarified his meaning, as they stood close and loosely embraced. “I’ll not tolerate such unfitting behavior in my household.”
“Father,” Seth scolded, and glared at him. “Myra shall be staying here until we leave to see The King and have matters settled, and considering the circumstances of her marriage, tis not your place to designate what is proper.”
Anvil was embarrassed by the reprimand, and Seth’s mention of The King lightened his spirits immensely. “Please offer your cousin, The King, my respects…my regard…my allegiance,” he stammered. “Argh, whatever greeting one gives The King,” he said, and waved his hand and brushed off his ignorance. He then looked at her thoughtfully, and Myra wasn’t sure whether it was due to sincerity or Seth’s reminder of her station. “Tis good to see you are looking well.”
“Aye, and tis a wonder I am, considering my situation,” she responded with irritation. He looked appropriately ashamed by her reply and Myra immediately relented. “The fire,” she added, and hoped she recovered the slight that she initially aimed at him. “The governor ordered an attack on Frederickson Manor and it burned down tonight. Tis why I have come to your home tonight for shelter.”
“An ordered attack?” Seth asked, astonished.
“Aye, those men—the pirates—returned from the docks tonight and the Cavaliers followed them. They burned the house in their attempt to flush them out.”
“Tis a shame Zachary wasn’t there for them to arrest, as well,” Seth bit out.
“Aye, but I am hopeful they will capture him once he returns from Baltimore.”
Anvil stood silent and nervously shuffled his feet against the burgundy, rush matting beneath his feet. Myra wondered if the conversation about Zachary made him more uncomfortable.
“Tis late and I must retire,” he said with a terse nod. “Goodnight,” he finally said, and sauntered his away toward the stairs.
“And what of your father?” Sarah asked, after Anvil quit the room. “Is he still in ill spirits over our plans to be together? T’was hard to tell either way whilst he was here.”
Seth reached for her hand and squeezed, but offered only a half-hearted smile. “He’s accepted you, Sarah.”
“He accepted me or my title?”
Seth lowered his head, shamed by his father’s behavior. “My father is set in his ways, Myra. No matter how much I wish I could, I cannot force him into someone he is not.” He placed her hand near his lips and kissed her forehand. His lips lingered and Sarah felt his hot breath against her skin. He took her into his arms and squeezed her securely within his embrace. “We shall not worry about him,” he whispered in her ear. “We have our own family now, and you can be sure that I’ll not make his mistakes with our son.”
“We shall make our home in England, as you said before?” she asked, hopeful.
“Aye. First you need to speak to The King. Tis safer if Jonathon remains here until matters are taken care of with your uncle, and he cannot do harm to either of you. I’m sure Margaret and Lucia will be delighted to care for him in our absence.”
“Together? I don’t believe Margaret will be acceptable with having Lucia by her side with any task. Have you been gone so long that you’ve forgotten her hatred for Lucia?”
“I think she shall surprise you both. I spoke with her earlier and Margaret has thought greatly upon many matters whilst I was away. I don’t suspect she’ll be near as judgmental toward anyone, even Lucia.”
“And you? Shall you, too, be less judgmental toward Lucia?”
“Aye,” he said, and smiled. “Although I shan’t go as far to call her sister, I shall be pleased to call her our friend. It hasn’t gone without notice what she has done for you, Myra. I may be stubborn, but I’m not a fool.”
Myra smiled up at him. “Your turnabout shall bring her great merriment, as it does me. Perhaps one day, your father will open his heart to her, as well.”
“As for our voyage,” he said, and effectively changed the subject away from his father. “Are you well enough to make the journey fairly soon? Tis best if we leave before Frederickson’s return.”
“Aye,” she said enthu
siastically. “I greatly look forward to having my life back.” Myra placed her hands inside his red waistcoat and rubbed his muscular chest and stomach seductively with her hands. Seth groaned out his need to have more and brought his lips down to hers and soundly kissed her. Myra eagerly looked forward to the time they could lay together again, as they had done many times before upon the Preston fields. It had been too long since they last made love and Myra truly missed him and their intimate times together.
“Tis real, Seth? This will soon be over and we’ll finally be together?”
“Very soon, my love,” he said, and he lifted her into his arms and headed for the staircase. “To the devil with my father and Frederickson, for I will make love to you tonight in my bed, as you so deserved from the beginning.” Passion overflowed within his deep blue eyes as he carried her up the stairs.
* * *
“A message has arrived for you, milady,” said a servant as he approached her. She leisurely sat and enjoyed the sun’s warmth in the Preston gardens.
Myra thanked him and placed the letter aside. She adjusted Jonathon’s blue, cotton blanket as he lay upon her lap and she smiled down at him. Yet her smile faded for a moment, and she fretted over how she’d bear leaving him once they set sail for England the following day. He smiled up at her and she playfully tickled his chin, and her own smile was reclaimed. “You must promise not to forget me,” she chided cheerfully. Placing Jonathon in the basinet aside her chair, she reached for the letter and immediately recognized the precise, flowing penmanship of Thomas Witcliff.
“That isn’t from Mister Frederickson, is it?” Lucia asked as she drew near.
“Nay, but it is about him,” Myra replied, and she further skimmed the letter. “Thomas sends word that they have returned from Baltimore and warns me that Zachary is quite upset. They have seized all his shipments here, as well as in Baltimore, and he’s further stressed about my being here at the Preston home. As they are looking to arrest him, Zachary has taken off and they are searching for him now. Thomas fears I may be in danger and warns me to be cautious.”
“Shall I go and find Seth? He should hear this so he can take precautions accordingly.”
Myra looked at Jonathon. She didn’t know how Zachary would handle the news once mindful to his existence. “Aye, for Jonathon’s sake, I think that would be wise.”
Lucia rushed off in search of Seth and Myra continued to thoroughly read the letter until completion. When she reached the content’s end, her mouth went agape, as she was astounded by his signature. “Lord Witcliff,” she said aloud. There it stared her in the face, as bold as any other print she’d seen, his signature as a trusted noble unto The King.
Myra caught movement on the other side of the garden, and after rising for a better view, she spotted Zachary as he came around the corner of the floral beds. Myra protectively stood in front of Jonathon to keep him hidden from Zachary’s view. “What are you doing here,” she demanded.
“I’ve come to bring my wife back to where she belongs, and that is with me,” he said. At his side was his pistol gripped tightly in his hand. His hand held the gun and he swung it forward and backward at his side. His hand shook nervously. “Tis time we go see The King, love.” He madly paced hither and thither in front of Myra, and his eyes wildly darted from her and then to the ground, as if in deep thought. “Aye, we shall set things right with him and he’ll forgive me with your help.”
“Zachary, tis over,” she said soothingly, and she was careful not to upset him further. “Tis best if you run and find a place to hide from the retribution of The King’s men. You shall be arrested and there will be no escaping the court’s penalty. Tis too late for my help now,” she said gently, as if speaking to a child.
“Nay!” he shouted, and aimed the gun at her. “As you are his cousin, he shall listen to you!”
Jonathon, who showed as much distaste for Zachary as she, released a loud wail and alerted Zachary to his position. Zachary cocked his head and sneered. He tilted his head to the side and attempted to see him, but Myra blocked his view.
“A child!” he snarled, and his face turned crimson with anger. He grabbed Myra’s arm and dragged her toward him, and in her fear for her child’s wellbeing, she didn’t resist him. “Tis Preston’s child,” he seethed out.
“Aye, and you shall leave him be,” she ordered.
“Tis my child by name,” he shouted. At that moment, his characteristic malevolent smile appeared. He sharply whirled Myra around in order to face him, and he looked down into her eyes and sneered. “Having a child shall work greatly in my favor with The King.” He pushed Myra to the ground and went toward the child.
“Leave him be,” Myra shouted.
“Frederickson,” Seth shouted, and he ran toward them. “Do not dare lay a hand on my son or I shall kill you where you stand!”
Frederickson raised his gun and loosely aimed it at the bassinet where the child laid and wailed out his distress. “I shall do as I please, for he is my child in the eyes of the law, Preston.”
Myra swallowed hard and her stomach sickened at the thought that he’d threaten a defenseless child. “I’ll do whatever you wish, Zachary,” Myra calmly whispered, and she cautiously approached him. “I beseech you, do not harm my son. If you wish it, we shall leave now and make our way to see The King. I shall convince him of your sincerity to make amends with him.” She spoke to him softly and comfortingly, but most importantly, believably.
Zachary looked at her thoughtfully. “Aye, tis all I want.”
Myra took him by the hand and began to lead him away from Jonathon and headed toward the front of the house, but Seth gave her an expression of warning. “Tis fine,” she assured Seth, gently, and raised her hand to ward him back. All that mattered to her was to get him away from Jonathon, no matter the cost.
Assured that Myra was willing to leave with him, Zachary placed his pistol within his belt, and Seth used that opportunity to charge him. Myra saw him from the corner of her eye and ducked to the side, just as Seth tackled him to the ground. They wrestled and punched one another until Zachary had Seth pinned to the ground, and Zachary reached for the pistol inside his belt.
“Seth,” Myra screamed.
Seth freed his hand that was trapped to the ground by Zachary’s knee, and he struggled with Zachary for control of the gun. Seth punched Zachary hard across his chin and the blow pitched Zachary backwards and onto the ground. Angered by being bested by a man half his age, Zachary sneered out his discontent and pulled a dagger from his boot. He charged at Seth at full force, and the knife was raised well above his head and aimed for Seth. Seth raised the pistol and a shot rang out just as Zachary brought down the knife and attempted to plunge it into Seth. Zachary’s didn’t move when the muzzle hit its mark, but his eyes opened wide and he beheld Myra as she stood there and watched on, horrified. He regarded her as if he’d been betrayed. He then slumped to the ground and died.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO-England 1663-
“Your Majesty.” Myra curtsied and bowed low, her eyes respectfully lowered to the freshly waxed marble floor. She glanced back at Seth who stood far away at the other end of the great hall, denied to share her direct audience with The King, as her cousin hadn’t felt it necessary for his participation.
“Lady Myra.” King Charles mumbled his greeting and sounded uninterested and almost bored. He thumbed through a stack of parchments on his lap until he eventually handed the stack to his brother, James, who stood at his side. He then finally graced her with his attention. “My brother has informed me that you wish an audience with me.”
“Aye, I do, Your Grace” she stammered. “I wish to converse my concern over Sir Ashton and Brunnington.”
“T’was my understanding that he’s Lord Brunnington now,” The King announced.
“Only because he murdered my father, as well as my mother, to obtain it,” she bit out.
She quickly gained King Charles’ full attention. He bristled and ad
justed his red and blue velvet robe. He looked at The Duke and raised a questioning brow. Obviously her Cousin James hadn’t repeated what she informed him only hours before, Myra thought.
“I thought it best if you personally spoke about the details that transpired that evening,” James offered. Although horribly pained by the fateful night’s recollection, Myra described the deaths of her parents in detail to the King, and hoped that he, too, would feel the outrage she carried with her for over two years. As his own father had been executed by the Parliamentarians for sake of power, she assumed he could empathize with her plight.
She wasn’t disappointed.
“Bring me Lord Brunnington!” he ordered to his guardsmen. “Make haste!” he added. Compassion softened his face as he rose from his throne and approached her. With a hand on her shoulder, he shook his head, saddened. “Your father was a good man, a loyal subject, and faithful cousin, Myra. I am sorry for your loss, for I feel it, too. I assure you that Lord Brunnington shall not go unpunished for the dastardly deeds he’s inflicted upon your parents.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” She reverently bowed over his offered hand. “And what of Brunnington,” she asked. “Other than my son, there is no one left to retain the title.”
“Aye, I am aware,” he said as he returned to his thrown and sat. “It’s best we handle this issue, as well. My brother informed me that you are recently widowed.”
“Aye, Your Majesty.”
“Bring in Lord Sutherling,” he bellowed.
Lord Sutherling? She recalled him as a friend of her father who on several occasions frequented their home. He was a kind, gentle man from what she recalled. Also, a very old man, and she was surprised he still yet lived. She wondered what he had to do with Brunnington that The King would call him forth. She turned and looked at Seth again, and she discreetly shrugged her shoulders to his questioning look.
With his cane in tow, Lord Sutherling hobbled down the hall until he approached her side and faced the The King. Myra nervously smiled and curtsied. “Lord Sutherling,” she greeted politely when he finally reached her side.
Bittersweet Endeavors Page 19
