Table of Contents
Born of Proud Blood
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
A word about the author...
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Born of Proud Blood
by
Roberta C. M. DeCaprio
Between the Rifle and the Spear, Book 4
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Born of Proud Blood
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Arial Burnz
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First English Tea Rose Edition, 2012
Print ISBN 978-1-61217-544-7
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-545-4
Between the Rifle and the Spear, Book 4
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To the memory of my uncle, Raymond Doyle,
whose desk I sat at to write this book.
And thanks to his daughters,
Joan, Kathy, and Judi,
for gifting me with such a priceless family heirloom.
~~
Also to the memory of Artful Dodger,
my beloved rabbit….
and to my newly rescued kitten, Mikko.
Her spirit and determination to survive
has shown me hope always awaits us.
~~
Lastly, to my editor, Allison Byers.
Thanks for understanding my creativity.
Chapter One
London, England
Fall of 1894
Tattered, dirty clothes hung from reeking flesh. Hunger featured upon sunken-cheeked faces. Destitute and homeless, London’s toshers scoured the sewers for pieces of tin, rags, bones, teeth, whatever they could find of any value to sell.
Riley Flanders knew them well. She was once a tosher herself.
As she past London’s west end, the beautiful homes and stately mansions faded into wooden shanties and hovels of poverty. No longer could she spot women wearing the latest fashions, brocaded or silk dresses and hats with plumes. The disgusting odor rising from the Thames contaminated the air, making it too vulgar to inhale as she walked down dark and sordid alleyways.
Riley had grown up in such distaste. This side of London was a humankind junkyard, where the lower-classed individuals were tossed away like trash and left to live not much better than animals.
They were forgotten souls, scorned by society and resistant to all of life’s developments. If Lady Lucinda Collins hadn’t rescued her from the ugly and sinister realm of vermin and vice, by this time Riley could have very well sank in its smut or become a product of its crime.
Compassion for those still living in the face of scarcity continued to draw her back. Anything she might do to help was better than doing nothing at all.
Making her way down the dank ally, arms loaded with blankets, she shivered. Though still early fall, the dampness seeped into her bones. Some nights, even burrowed beneath a heavy quilt, her flesh would take forever to warm. She often thought her body had stored the cold from all the bygone years she was made to endure it.
“Ye shouldn’t be ’ere, miss, gettin’ a chill like this,” her very observant and caring attendant warned as she placed a chubby hand upon Riley’s arm. “Ye will catch yer death, and then what will Lady Collins do without ye? ’Specially now, since ’er age ’as left ’er ailin’.”
“I will be perfectly fine, so worry not,” Riley assured. “My duties toward Auntie Cinda are of importance to me as well.”
“I’m just statin’ the truth o’ the matter, miss. Catchin’ yer death isn’t somethin’ any o’ us want to grieve over.”
She frowned. “I’m not used to hearing such doom and gloom from your lips. And I must say, Jane, I much prefer your usual cheery demeanor.”
The stocky blonde, with her great sense of humor, balanced Riley’s personality, which at times was too serious and straightforward for her own good. She contributed it to a reflex action from all the years she cared for her mother...had to be the responsible one in the face of her only parent’s illness. But now with Jane around, Riley relaxed, actually found herself having fun.
“My cheer is back at Collins Stead, miss, where it belongs.”
“Well, muster up a bit of it to shine on this ally, aye? I could use a change of spirit, especially since I am not quite sure of what I stepped in a few paces back that now clings to my boot. And from the corner of my eye, I’m sure I saw something scurry past that pile of garbage against the wall to your right.”
“Ooooh, nay miss,” Jane screeched, searching the garbage heap with wide eyes and moving closer to Riley. “I do ’ate coomin’ ’ere with ye, but I know ye would coome alone if I didn’t.”
She swiped aside a lock of hair from her forehead and walked on, the sound of their footsteps echoing eerily through the ally. “Just keep your eyes out for Top Hat Tom so I can give him these blankets. The sooner we accomplish our task, the sooner we’ll be back at Collins Stead.”
“And ’ow do ye know this chap ain’t goin’ sell the blankets for a mug o’ ale?”
She came to Tom’s defense. “Top Hat’s not like that. When I was a child living in the burrows with my mother, he looked after us.” Tom’s large gray eyes and toothless smile was a part of her world for as far back as she could remember. He thought of himself as a dapper gent, wearing a discarded, faded tux and a worn out top hat he found, to do his bidding in...thus giving him his name. “If it weren’t for Top Hat Tom, most nights Mother and I wouldn’t have eaten.” She sighed. “I trust him to pass these blankets out to those who need them.”
Jane glanced behind her, biting her bottom lip. “Charles sits alone with the carriage, miss. ’ope ’e doesn’t get beat up while were waitin’ on this other chap.”
Riley suspected Jane and Charles were attracted to one another. However, her handmaiden’s concern brought to light the fact the two shared a deeper attachment then she believed. “Most of these
folks aren’t the violent sort. They’ll steal things so they can sell them, but they don’t want to harm anyone.”
“Ye know if any o’ these toshers tries to rob Charles, ’e’ll put up a good fight. Any one o’ them could get ’urt then. Besides, miss, ye don’t know all o’ them that dwell in these conditions anymore.”
She frowned again, knowing Jane’s words rang true. It had been almost twelve years since Anita Flanders died, asking on her death bed for her dear friend, Lady Lucinda Collins, to take Riley on as her ward. “Just keep your eyes out for Tom. He said he’d meet us at the sewer entrance by half past two.”
With her free hand, Jane pulled a pocket watch from her pouch and flipped its cover. “I believe ’tis already near to that time now, miss.”
“Hush, Jane, don’t become a whiner. Top Hat promised to meet me, and I trust he will be along momentarily.”
Jane replaced the watch and gripped Riley’s arm tighter. “I ’ope ye’re right, miss.”
“I am, Jane. Tom has never broken his word to me, and I don’t think he’ll start now. He knows how important my help is to these folks.” She sighed. “And then I promise you, as soon as we give him the blankets, we can go home.”
Just as those words escaped her lips, Tom made his way to them. He was stooped over and walked with a cane. His once jet-black hair was now silver. “I didn’t keep ye ladies waitin’ too long now, did I?”
“A second is too long in this place,” Jane mumbled.
Riley shot her a stern look, silencing Jane from commenting further. Turning a smile upon her old friend, she handed him the blankets. “I hope they go to those who need them.”
Tom cast a sardonic smile to her remark. “We could all use them, Flandie,” he said, using the endearing name he had dubbed her.
“Then I will rephrase and say, to those who need them the most.”
Tom nodded, then put his fingers to his toothless mouth and whistled. A woman by the name of Naomi emerged from the shadows. “I can’t carry things while usin’ the cane, and I don’t get far these days without one, which I was lucky enough to find while scavengin’ around one night. So I asked Naomi to ’elp out today.”
Riley knew Naomi from her childhood. Abandoned by her husband, she took to selling herself on the streets for money. Her homelessness brought her in acquaintance with Tom, who in turn introduced her to Anita. At the age of twenty-five, Naomi looked good in her bones. Long, blonde hair hung to her waist, large blue eyes twinkled with spirit, and her smile was enchanting. Now, over a decade later, the pale hair was dull and uncombed, the sparkling eyes tired and drab, and her teeth were badly rotted.
“I met a chap lookin’ for ye, Flandie,” Naomi said, taking the blankets. “Nice lookin’ bloke in ’is forties, askin’ all sorts o’ questions about ye.”
Riley frowned. “Who would be looking for me after all these years?”
“Ye can leave the gutter, mite, but the gutter never leaves ye.” Naomi adjusted a hold on the blankets and narrowed her eyes. “So don’t ye ever be thinkin’ ye’re better than us just because ye live in a fancy ’ouse and wear the latest fashions.”
“Hush, Naomi.” Top Hat hissed. “Flandie never was like us. Aye, she lived in a one room shanty on the poor side o’ town, but I knew ’er Mum well, and she came from good stock. Anita worked ’ard for ’er wages, taught Flandie to be ’onest. Besides, yer sharp tongue is not necessary ’ere. Flandie’s never flaunted ’er good fortune. If anythin’, she’s used ’er new found position to ’elp us...bringin’ blankets and food.” Tom turned his attention to Riley. “Ye were born of proud blood, mite, always remember that. Just because yer Mum fell on ’ard times, it doesn’t mean ye’re not as good as the rest o’ them walkin’ around London.”
“’e said ’e was yer pa.” Naomi brought the conversation back to the man she had met.
Her frown deepened. “He’s a liar then. My father would be in his late seventies, isn’t that right, Tom?”
Tom sighed, moving to lean his fragile frame against the brick wall. “That isn’t quite the truth, Flandie.”
“What are you saying, Tom?”
“I’m sayin’ ye need to go ’ome and talk to Lady Collins. There’s some things ye need to know, and ’tis only ’er place to tell ye.” He motioned to the stack of blankets Naomi held. “And I thank ye for the blankets.”
She turned her attention on Naomi. “Do you know how to find this man again?”
“Aye, ’twon’t be ’ard.”
“I will get to the bottom of all of this, and when I do, I will return. Then, I want you to introduce me to this man who claims to be my father.”
Naomi nodded. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, Flandie. When ye’re ready, I’ll be ’ere. Send me word through Top Hat, and I’ll meet ye anywhere ye say.”
She nodded and then gave Tom a quick hug before turning on her heels and making her way to the carriage.
Chapter Two
Gabriel Golden Eagle helped his sister into a chair. “Sunny, if you do not give birth to that babe soon, you will truly burst.”
Sunny rested a hand upon her swollen belly. “I cannot believe how huge my tiny waist has become. Ah well, just a few weeks to go.” She arched a brow. “My mother-in-law swears by the fact I carry twins, says there are double births in the family. My husband’s paternal grandmother was a twin.”
He chuckled. “And how does your husband feel at the prospect of having such a large family all at once?”
She shrugged. “What choice does he...does either of us have?”
He chuckled again. “True, it is too late for second thoughts.”
Sunny looped a golden tendril of loose hair behind an ear. “Both Raven and I seem to be running a race as to who delivers her baby first. But with this being our sister’s second child, I would say she will have a quicker time of it than I will.”
He moved to the chair opposite hers and took her hand. “I pray you both have a quick and easy time. I could not bear to lose either of you, as I...” He clipped his tongue as the memory of his wife flooded his thoughts.
She looked into his eyes with sapphire orbs that matched his. “Not all women die in childbirth, my brother.” She reached out to affectionately stroke his cheek. “These years after Fire Star’s death have not been easy for you.”
He swallowed hard, the emotion burning the back of his throat. “When she died trying to give life to our son, it took the very spirit from me as well.”
His sister’s eyes welled with unshed tears. “Now that I am going to be a mother, I have empathy for what you went through, losing them both as you did. And I have a better understanding of what you have overcome.”
“And yet, through all the hurt I regret nothing. I am happy to have the time I did with Fire Star,” he confessed.
Sunny cleared the sentiment from her throat. “I had hoped when you left our Apache village to escort Raven and me to England, the distance from the things you and Fire Star shared would help some?”
He nodded. “In some ways not being able to visit the familiar places or having the constant reminders of our days together lessened the pain. And then other times, I feel so lost because I cannot connect her with anything here in England. I do not want to forget her face or live as though she never existed.”
“That will never happen, my brother. But life goes on, and you must go on with it. Have you not enjoyed meeting other women while in England, like Riley Flanders?”
He smiled and added. “Or Collette Halston, while we were aboard the ship.”
She frowned. “I cannot believe you are still pursuing that woman.”
He shrugged. “She fascinates me.”
Sunny’s frown deepened. “And I can only imagine what parts of her fascinate you the most.”
“Well, then dayden,” he teased, as brothers did to sisters, by using the Apache word for little girl, “do not imagine so much.”
She rubbed her swollen belly and raised a defiant chin. “I a
m hardly a little girl anymore, Gabriel.”
“You will always be to me,” he said softly.
Instantly Sunny melted, and her kind heart once again was in his favor. “I wish for you to experience what Raven and I have...someone special to love, a family, grandchildren when you are old.”
Gabriel stood and made his way to the large bay windows of the solarium. “I wish for those things, too.”
“Mother always said, sometimes true love has been right beneath your nose all the time.” She cocked her head sideways. “It could be you just need to open your eyes and really look, instead of just see. Your woman might only be an arm’s length away.”
He nodded, thinking how much Sunny reminded him of Golden Lady, with the same pale hair, the sapphire eyes, and the diplomatic way they were able to get exactly what they wanted from the fathers, brothers, sons, and husbands who loved them.
“Well, you are not going be able to truly look for the right woman if you continue to court Collette,” Sunny added.
He looked out at Bentwood’s lush front lawn. Since coming to Brighton, he had turned the Bentley family mansion he and his sisters had inherited from his maternal side of the family into a health resort with sweat baths, lodging accommodations, and even a boutique. Sunny and her husband, Rafe Cavendish, helped him run the place. “It is no news how you feel about Collette.”
“I have no ill feelings toward her. She and I are friends, and I admire her independence. I also love listening to her tell stories of all her adventures.”
He turned toward her. “Then why do you discredit her so?”
“Because she does not want the same things you want, my brother. And deep down you know that fact to be true.”
Gabriel arched a brow. “Do you not remember your husband’s attitude toward commitment?” He did not wait for an answer. “If I remember right, I warned you not to lose your heart to him because he had many hearts in his pocket. But it did not stop you.”
“And if I remember right, Rafe came to me of his own accord,” she countered. “He asked me to marry him. And I accepted because of the love I feel for him.”
“Well, then maybe that is the problem. I have never proposed to Collette, so I cannot say what her answer would be.”
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