Bewitching

by Amelia Grey

  Frantic that Austin might pop out at her any moment, Chelly slipped one hand down and clutched at the folds of her skirt, lifting the hem so she wouldn't trip over her dress. Her skin prickled and her stomach quaked, but knowing she couldn't waste time with indecision, Chelly took the first step. It was difficult to walk down the stairs with Bo in her arms. His little body grew heavy quickly and she had to help support him by resting one arm on the banister, letting it slide along the varnished wood with each step she took. To keep from screaming from the nerve-racking tension filling her, she counted the steps as each foot silently landed on the stairs. Five. Six. Seven.

  Her movements were painstakingly slow and difficult down the twelve steps. She was physically and mentally fatigued. Putting one foot in front of the other was a major task. Halfway down, Bo almost slipped from her hold. Her chest tightened. The muscles in her arms starting quivering from weakness. She was forced to rely heavily on the banister to guide her the rest of the way.

  Keeping her gaze on Jubal at the bottom of the stairs, she continued to move slowly down the hallway toward the kitchen and the back door. She held her muscles so tight she couldn't have hurried if she'd wanted to. Her arms ached from the weight of the child and the tension in her body.

  When she rounded the doorway into the kitchen, she whispered a sigh of relief, seeing that Thollie's bedroom door was shut. Twilight lit her way to the door. She dropped her skirt and grabbed hold of the handle, sensing freedom was just beyond that one opening.

  It was locked! She whirled around, deliriously thinking Austin must have beat her down the stairs and locked the door. But quickly realizing she was being irrational, she worked her fingers down below the handle, praying the key had been left in the keyhole, but finding nothing. She shifted the sleeping boy in her tired arms and looked frantically around the small room.

  Her fear mounted. Her frustration spiraled. She wanted to sink to the floor on her knees and cry out at the unfairness of that locked door. But she couldn't. She was too close to give up now. Freedom for Bo lay just beyond that door, that wall, that window.

  Window?

  She whirled back around and stared at the curtainless window. It wasn't a large one, but maybe it was wide enough for her and Bo to crawl through. She looked back at the doorway into the kitchen. She couldn't chance trying to get out the front door with Jubal's chair beside it, no matter how soundly he slept.

  With jerky unsure movements, the first thing she did was lay Bo on the floor. He stirred and stretched, but didn't make a sound. Next she removed the kettle and milk pitcher that sat on the table in front of the window. Now came the hard part. Opening the window and crawling out before they were discovered. Looking out, she saw that it was a five or six feet drop to the ground.

  "No," she whispered into the darkness.

  Chelly winced as she looked from the doorway and back to the sleeping boy. She couldn't do it. It was too difficult. She'd gone as far as she could go. She was too tired, too exhausted to go on. Maybe Bo was supposed to be with his father. Every time she had thought she was close to getting Bo home, something had happened to thwart her. There was nothing left to do but accept defeat and go back upstairs to the man who had given her a glimpse of heaven earlier in the night.

  "Yes," she whispered to herself, feeling lightheaded, feeling as if she suddenly had all her problems worked out.

  This idea of getting Bo back to his mother was madness. What would be the harm in Bo's living with his father? Napoleon had made Jerome Bonaparte a king. A king! Bo was a prince. Didn't he belong with his father and all the inherited title offered? Why hadn't she stopped to think about what she was denying Bo? All she'd thought about was her own feelings and his mother's feelings. A calmness settled over her.

  "Yes," she murmured aloud again, rubbing her aching arms. What had she been thinking? Now she understood why Austin had agreed to take Bo to France. Of course he would be better off with his father. She couldn't deny Bo the chance to be King of Westphalia one day. It was his birthright.

  She moved to pick up Bo and take him back upstairs to his bed but stopped abruptly when her sister's face appeared before her. Chelly gasped.

  Big tears rolled down Loraine's face. Her nose was reddened from crying. "I want my son," she mumbled past blue, trembling lips. "Bring me my son. My son."

  "Loraine!" Chelly whispered earnestly, her throat so tight she barely got the word out. Loraine's face turned swimmy and distorted.

  Chelly reached to make contact with her sister to comfort her but grasped only air. Chelly stepped back. Loraine wasn't there. She was gone as quickly as she'd appeared.

  Chelly trembled from cold. She felt as if her heart might explode in her chest, her body might break in two if she tried to move. She must have gone mad for a few seconds. Loraine had seemed so real. She'd thought her sister had come back to her. Chelly thought she could touch her. Exhaustion threatened to overtake her

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heartbeat and moisten her dry mouth. She tingled as if the blood had drained from her body for a time and was only now returning.

  Thinking more clearly, Chelly realized she'd allowed stress and her emotional fatigue to addle her for a few moments. No, Bo was not old enough to be turned over to his father.

  Knowing what she had to do, she turned quickly to the window. She had precious little time. Already the moon had faded and the sky had turned pink. She'd have to raise the window, lower Bo to the ground, and then jump out.

  The wood was cold to her shaky fingers as she pulled upward on the window. It was stuck. She pulled harder. A creaking, scraping sound pierced the quiet like the shriek of a wild animal.

  Chelly froze and turned toward the doorway. She heard the shuffling of feet coming from the front room. The noise had awakened Jubal. He was coming to investigate. She looked around and, picking up the lid to the iron kettle, she flattened herself against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen. Holding the cold metal with both hands as Jubal walked through the doorway, she raised the lid.

  Jubal saw her and tried to react, but Chelly brought down the lid. It struck him across the side of his head. Jubal groaned and fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

  Chelly winced as she dropped the lid, hating herself for what she'd had done to the man who'd always been so good to her. But there was no time to fret. She would have the rest of her life to do that once Bo was safe.

  She glanced up at the window, open only about four inches. If Austin had heard the commotion they'd created, there was no time to get out the window. He'd be down the stairs in a flash. Frantically, she searched the pockets of Jubal's waistcoat and found two keys.

  On shaky legs she hurried to the door and tried the first key. She glanced over her shoulder to Jubal, who lay on the floor, groaning. Her gaze darted up to the doorway.

  The lock wouldn't turn.

  She dropped the key. It clanged on the wooden floor.

  She stuck the other key in the small keyhole and it clicked. She turned the knob and jerked the door open. The early dawn air hit her in the face like a bucket of cold water.

  Chelly rushed back to pick up Bo.

  * * *

  Austin's eyes popped open. Had he heard a creak, or thud, or something falling? Seconds ticked by while he listened. He heard movement. His arms swung out behind him, reaching for Chelly, but only meeting an empty bed.

  He jerked, twisted over, and jumped out of the bed all in one easy motion. His feet tangled in some clothes lying on the floor by the bed and he stumbled. Realizing it was his own breeches that halted him, he snatched them up and stomped into the legs as he yanked the bedroom door open.

  His heartbeat increased as he hurried, barefooted, down the hallway to look into Bo's room.

  A stab of fear hit him in his gut. Bo was gone. The open satchel and discarded robe lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. He knew last night that Chelly would try again to escape with Bo, but he'd allowed her seduction and
his love for her to cloud his wisdom, his instinct.

  He had been fool enough to think one night in his bed would change anything between them.

  He darted away from the door and ran down the staircase. He had to stop her. The early morning afforded him a little light in the house and he saw the empty chair where Jubal was supposed to be keeping watch. He prayed that he'd find Jubal, Chelly, and Bo making morning tea.

  He hurried into the kitchen so fast, he didn't see anything on the floor. He kicked something, then stumbled and fell, hitting his knee and sprawling to the floor, hitting his elbow hard as his eyes caught sight of the open back door.

  Rage tore through him as pain shot through his arm and knee. "No!" he yelled. "Chelly, come back!"

  He scrambled to his feet, groaning as pressure sent more spirals of pain shooting up his leg. When he made it to the door, he caught a glimpse of her running toward the front of the house, with Bo jiggling in her arms.

  With her carrying the boy, Austin knew he could catch her. "Chelly! Stop!" he called, racing after her as fast as his injured knee would allow him.

  Damn! She ran fast for a slightly built woman carrying a thirty-pound boy.

  Forcing aside the pain in his body, the burning in his lungs, he pushed harder and quickly gained on her. She reached the main street and almost flew down it, she ran so fast, but with her burden she was no match for him. Out of breath and his knee throbbing with pain, he reached out and grabbed hold of Chelly's shoulder.

  "No," she screamed, trying to wrench away from him and continue her flight. Bo struggled and cried in her arms; still she held him tightly to her chest. Her eyes were wild with fright; her chest heaved with each breath, and her face flushed red from exertion.

  "Promise you won't run and I'll let go of you," he managed to say between labored breaths.

  She nodded as Bo continued to whimper and try to raise up in her arms. He wanted to take the child from her and let her rest, but he knew she wouldn't give Bo up willingly.

  In the distance he heard the approach of a carriage and wanted to get Chelly and Bo away from the street before the carriage passed. Still gasping for breath he said, "Step over here with me." He pointed to a clump of trees just beyond the road.

  She shook her head.

  "Chelly, someone is coming. I don't want them to see Bo, now—"

  A quick glance in the direction of the carriage gave her enough time to shoot past him and start running again. Austin knew she had no energy left. She was running on fear. He easily caught her in only a few steps. Jerking her around to face him almost stripped Bo from her arms.

  "No—, let me go!" she pleaded. "I—I have to g—get him back t—to his mother."

  Bo cried louder.

  If he didn't calm them both immediately, all his neighbors would be in the street.

  He held tightly to her upper arms, shaking her gently. "Stop this madness! You can't take Bo back. They will assume you helped kidnap him and put you in jail."

  "No. How—could they when I return him? Let me go!" she whimpered. "I have to do this. I have to do it for my sister."

  "Your sister?" he asked, confused by her words.

  "I couldn't help my sister, but I can help Bo's mother."

  Understanding dawned. It was too late for Chelly's sister, but not for Betsy Patterson. He relaxed his grip. His love for her overflowed. He wanted to hold her, reassure her of his love and his commitment to her.

  Austin softened his voice and said, "I'll help you return Bo to his mother."

  She shook her head. Her eyes glistened in the early light. "I don't believe you."

  The carriage came closer.

  "I promise to return him to his mother," he said, still speaking softly. "Chelly, you have to trust me on this."

  She sniffled. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her lips trembled. "I don't trust you to keep that promise."

  Her words hurt. He flinched. "Why don't you trust me? I love you. I want to marry you. Didn't what happened between us in that bed mean anything to you?"

  Fresh tears streamed down her face. She was visibly shaken. He could see his words of love and marriage had touched her heart.

  "Yes. Yes, it meant everything to me." She choked on a sob before continuing. "I love you, but I don't trust you. You have different values than I. You've done something I could never condone. I can't accept what you've done to this little boy and his mother."

  Her words cut through him like a sword, but he had no time to react. There was precious little time left before the carriage came upon them.

  "Chelly, come back inside and let's discuss this. Let me prove to you that I am an honorable and trustworthy man. Bradley can arrange the return of Bo so no one will ever connect either of our names to this."

  "No!" She jerked out of his grasp. "Do you think I'm going to trust you and Bradley to give Bo back to his mother. I'm not crazy."

  Austin grabbed her again and she struggled. Bo fought them both.

  "Here, here! What's going on here? Unhand that woman, sir," a well-dressed older man said, stepping out of his carriage. The gentleman's driver, a tall, portly man, set the brake on the carriage and jumped down beside his master.

  Chelly stopped struggling and looked at the outraged gentleman with bulging blue eyes. Even Bo sensed something had happened and quieted.

  Austin knew the two men meant trouble. He had to think fast. He smiled and said in a friendly voice, "There's no problem here we can't handle, but my thanks for stopping. My wife's a bit miffed because I didn't come home last night. She thinks to take my son and leave me, but I'm trying to tell her she has nowhere to go."

  The man twisted the brass handle of his cane in his hand as he considered what Austin had said. By the look in the older man's eyes Austin knew he'd done a good job convincing him, but so did Chelly.

  "No, that's not true," she said, stepping forward, her voice stronger than Austin thought it should have been under the circumstances.

  "Chelly, don't," Austin warned.

  "This man has held me against my wishes in his house. I am not his wife and this child is not his son." She moved closer to the well-dressed gentleman.

  Austin tensed. "Don't do this" He spoke quietly, but firmly. "I love you. You have to believe me when I say it will be better for both of us if we let Bradley handle this for us." He glanced at the stranger and added for his benefit, "He'll take care of everything and keep us out of trouble."

  Austin saw the indecision in her face. He also saw that she was exhausted, frantic, and on the edge of losing control.

  "I can't. I don't trust Bradley either." She turned to the stranger and said, "Please take me to the police headquarters. I need to—"

  "No!" Austin stepped forward and grabbed her arm. She cried out, and the older gentleman struck Austin across the head with the handle of his brass cane.

  Pain sliced through Austin's forehead, and he fell to his knees. Twinkling lights flitted across his eyes as he saw Chelly's surprised expression. She cried out for the man not to hit him again. Austin struggled to maintain consciousness. Chelly and Bo swam before him.

  He tried to reach for her again, but he couldn't focus on where they were. He fought to keep control. Through blurred, distorted vision he saw the man hustle Chelly and Bo into the carriage and shut the windowless door behind them.

  Struggling to get to his feet, he tried to call her name, but couldn't. The world around him spun. "N—no—" He tried to say the word but wasn't sure he did.

  The driver swung the back of his arm through the air, knocking Austin to the ground again. A booted foot caught him in the ribs, lifting him off the ground, robbing him of breath. Twice more he jerked and moaned from the blows the driver dealt before climbing back up on the carriage and driving away.

  Austin held his ribs and tried to rise. The pain was so great he couldn't. He fought for consciousness, but darkness crept up on him. He had to stop the carriage. He had to stop Chelly, but darkness overtook him.


  Chapter 17

  With a heavy heart, Chelly stood in front of police headquarters. She was angry with herself and the man who had struck Austin with his cane. It was her fault for telling the stranger that Austin had held her against her will. She'd been torn between seeing if Austin was badly hurt and getting Bo away from him as quickly as possible. Knowing she would check on Austin and Jubal after Bo was safely back with his mother, she'd stepped inside the carriage and left without seeing about Austin.

  Her shoulders sagged with the weight of everything that had happened over the past weeks. What kind of person had she turned into? Holding men at gunpoint, hitting Jubal on the head—all because she didn't believe one parent had the right to steal a child from the other parent. Was she attempting to control fate? Was she playing God?

  "No," she whispered confidently to herself. She was merely following her motherly instincts. And that couldn't be the wrong thing to do.

  Chelly glanced at the police headquarters, one of the newer-looking stone-and-wood buildings in the downtown section of Baltimore. Early morning sun shone brightly against the face of the building, glaring at her with its warmth. As she stared at the building, it seemed to loom before her, growing smaller and larger until she felt as if the building were swaying. She quickly looked away. She was obviously feeling the effects of her tiresome journey from Europe and lack of sleep.

  The street was quiet except for a vendor setting up his cart on the corner and a shopkeeper who swept the boardwalk in front of his store.

  "Why are we here?"

  Peering down into the dark-blue eyes of the little boy whose hand she held, Chelly answered past a lump in her throat. "I'm trying to get you home."

  "Home? Is that where Mama is?"

  She smiled. "Yes."

  "Are you going with me?"

  Chelly bent down in front of Bo and started straightening his clothes. She suddenly realized she was reluctant to let him go. How could she give him up? She'd taken care of him and loved him for over two months. She'd fed him, washed him, and combed his hair. She'd taught him his letters and how to write his first name. With Jubal's and Robert's help she'd taught him the beginning moves in chess. How could she give him up? When he laughed, it delighted her. When he cried, she cried inside, too.