Surrender the Wind

by RITA GERLACH

  “You have me all to yourself, Mr. Braxton.” She pressed her lips to his, eased down in the water.

  “I am selfish when it comes to my wife. I refuse to share her with anyone.”

  Juleah laid her head against his shoulder. “I do not wish to leave, but I know we must.”

  “Only for a short while.”

  “I shall miss Braxton Hall while we’re gone.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “A place should have a name, Seth. Do you not like it? We can think of another.”

  “No, Braxton Hall does well.”

  She touched his cheek with her palm and smiled. “Let us leave soon. For the sooner we do, the sooner we can come home.”

  For a moment, Seth gazed into her eyes, studied her face, and his desire for her mounted higher than the bluffs shadowing them. His arms encircled her. Under a blue heaven, the water whirled about them. He brought his lips to hers, the kiss urgent, sweeping, and ecstatic.

  “Seth.” She sighed, and her eyes closed as he moved his mouth away.

  He lifted her out of the water, carried her up to the heights, to the cool grass under the shade trees. Later, when the sun skimmed the ridge of the mountains in the west, and bathed the river in ruby light, she lay within his arms, the golden light playing over the curve of her shoulders. When the sun sank lower, she went barefoot with him up the hillside.

  That night she slept curled up against him, her hand sedate over his heart, her head nuzzled on his chest. With no curtains on the windows, the moon poured inside the room. The shadows from the tree branches outside danced over the walls.

  Seth lay awake, thought of the future, and wished they did not have to return to England. But it was the honorable thing to do, and he settled his mind upon it. Her family must see her again, for the sake of their broken hearts.

  And he had to face Darden for what he had done.

  44

  With the coming of autumn, Crown Cove grew reclusive, more than in recent years. Having been a house of mystery to its neighbors, the windows went unlit in the evenings, and rarely did a passerby see smoke rise out of its chimneys. By day, when rain fell, eerie streaks of black rippled down the bricks. Withering vines clung to the mortar. Inside its walls, jealousy had fueled the fires of envy. Now regret and depression held it at siege.

  By now, Darden had come to believe women were witches in lace and silky garb, eye-fluttering vampires sent to suck a man dry of his fortune and dignity. His mother had dragged him through the dregs with her headstrong ways and ambition, insisting he take, by hook or by crook, anything that would make him wealthy. He could never live up to her standards, and she was against his infatuation with Juleah from the start. Juleah was not rich, but how dare she throw him off for a Yankee usurper and take over the house that should have been her son's.

  And finally, Miss Lovelace broke off their affair when she discovered how small a fortune he owned, telling him she had tried but failed to grow accustomed to his sullen moods and fits of anger. In truth, she made it clear she could not abide a man who lacked self-control and had no prospects, nor enough money to keep her in silks and satins. Her other patrons were more accommodating than he.

  Now Edward Darden lived alone in his ancient house, save for his servant, with his money drying up and his debts increasing. He wondered, with a great deal of discomposure, why Judith Dirk hadn’t written to him as he had ordered her to do. He had not heard a word from the woman since The Raven had sailed for America. Surely they had gotten there by now. His hunger to know how Juleah suffered in the heat of a Carolina plantation drove him to madness.

  Sitting in the dark, his brows pinched, his stare stoic, he feared they had met with disaster at sea. Perhaps a storm had overtaken them. The nightmare came and he dreamed of raging waves that swallowed up the ship and Juleah crying out, her beautiful face disappearing into the murky depths. He woke in a sweat. His heart beat in his ears and his breath heaved. He admitted to God his intentions were dishonorable, evil, and he trembled at the price he would pay in the end.

  He rose at noon, drank early, and shot sparrows outside his window with his pistol. Habbinger showed him some concern, but kept his eyes and head low, and spoke only when spoken to.

  That chilly evening, the fog lay thick and brought a damp, morose feeling to the house. Habbinger piled a log onto the fire and shoved the coals back with a shovel. “I was in the village today and heard some interesting news, sir.”

  “Why should I care?” Darden grumbled.

  “I think you would be most curious to hear it.”

  “Has Miss Lovelace found someone else? A rich lord perhaps?” He threw back a dram of Irish whiskey.

  “I’ve heard nothing concerning Miss Lovelace, sir, but rather Juleah Braxton.”

  Darden looked up with a start. He stood and felt a rush of fear. Clenching his teeth, he threw the empty glass he had held into the fire. Flames shot up as it shattered.

  “Do not speak her name. I cannot bear it.” He put his hands to the sides of his head to block it out.

  “But she's returning to England, and with that rebel husband of hers.”

  The angry flush in Darden's face all at once vanished into a white pall that he saw reflected in the dark windowpanes. “What's that you say?”

  “She's returning. The village is a hornet's nest of gossip; everyone is amazed by the news, for she was thought to have died in that fire at Ten Width. Braxton was believed to have drowned. Now she’ll show up pretty and hale with her upstart.”

  The corners of Darden's mouth twisted. “It cannot be true.”

  “Oh, but it is, sir.”

  “How?”

  “Who knows? I went to vespers this evening, and Sir Henry stood in the church and announced it to those gathered. The minister had them all bow their heads and give thanks to Almighty God for the miracle.”

  “Miracle!” Darden spat. “It is a lie, and the old fool is insane.”

  “Ah, but it is true, sir.”

  “Stop saying that. They’re speaking lies, I tell you!”

  Calm as his manner ever was, Habbinger lifted the jug and poured his master another dram. “I doubt Lady Anna and Sir Henry would make up a story about such a thing.”

  Fearful he could be wrong, Darden crimped his brow hard and put his fist up against his lips. He had no idea how his plans could have gone wrong. He had paid well for their execution.

  “Folks are wondering who's buried in the churchyard in her place,” said Habbinger, “and why this is a case of mistaken identity.”

  “They’ll never know.”

  “That is certain, sir.”

  “The body cannot be identified.”

  “True enough, sir.”

  “It would be a sacrilege to dig up the dead.”

  “Indeed, it would. I took the liberty to wish Sir Henry and his lady well, thinking it would shed good light upon you, sir.”

  “Good light?”

  Habbinger nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Darden sneered. “I doubt it. They hate me.”

  “What will you do, sir?”

  “If she accuses me of anything, I’ll deny it. I’ve your oath, as well, that you’ll swear by every word I say?”

  Habbinger inclined his head. “I’ve been faithful to you and the members of your household, sir. I’ll not say a word of what goes on behind these walls. I believe you did what you thought was right.”

  It grew, as if a black tumor dug its roots into his mind. The idea he’d kill Seth Braxton was most appealing. How and when was another matter altogether. He cared not that Habbinger noticed his worried gestures, the wringing of his hands, the twisting of his mouth.

  “Not to worry, sir.” Habbinger stood with his head held high. “No matter what anyone says, they can prove nothing. Your mother is away for her health. I’ve been with you the entire time and have seen no one here but you, and Miss Lovelace from time to time.”

  Darden stared at his servant and
dropped his hand. “How shall I repay you for a sealed tongue?”

  “Faithfulness need not always be rewarded, sir.”

  “I disagree.” From his pocket Darden drew out the gold watch that had belonged to his father. “Here, take this. You’ll get some money by it.”

  Habbinger did not argue. He took it in hand, tucked it away in his waistcoat, and stepped from the room.

  45

  When the trees in England changed color, the sea turned from murky green to dark blue along the coast of Devonshire. Swells of clouds, swirls of gray and white, chilled the air in early morning. Evening fell. Frost hung in the air. Gusty northeast winds swept southward with the scent of the coming winter hoarfrost.

  Great purple cloudbanks loomed over earth and sea, bidding a gentleman to draw his lady close in his arm while traveling. Their coach lumbered over the high road and turned into a narrow drive that led to a house that, for some time, had been a forlorn place, where miserable sorrow had gripped parents and stifled children. From the front door, Sarah emerged and called back inside. In a flurry of skirts and stomping boots, the others appeared, Lady Anna dressed no longer in dreary black, Sir Henry smart in his hunting attire. Thomas jumped up and down, waved his hands and kicked the stones with his boot. Jane, in her ankle-high boots, woolen dress and apron, lifted her face and waved.

  “They’ve come out to meet us.” Holding her hat down with her gloved hand, Juleah leaned out the window. Seth looked out as well while he held his wife's hand. The coachman turned the horses, drew in the reins, and the footman opened the door for the lady and gentleman within.

  Juleah stretched her hands out to her parents and hurried to them. Tearful at their reunion, they trembled with the overwhelming reality that their daughter had been restored to them. Jane and Thomas, too, threw their arms around Juleah. Her mother mopped her eyes with her handkerchief, and Sir Henry kissed her cheeks. His hounds bounded and bayed around their legs.

  “Down you beasts,” he scolded. “Can you not see you may spoil my dear daughter's skirts? Away with you.” Yet, they did not obey.

  As Seth stepped out, dressed smartly in a new suit of buff and blue with matching tricorn hat, he watched as the family, save for Sir Henry, who lingered behind, went inside the house. Turning upon him with a grateful smile, Sir Henry put his hand out. “Thank you for bringing my daughter back to us. I am in your debt.”

  “No, there is no debt owed, Sir Henry.”

  “Well then, you shall rejoice to know that I received a note this very morning from your dear sister. She and Michael and young Nathaniel have stopped at Ten Width and await word of Juleah and your homecoming.”

  Without a moment's hesitation, Seth paid the coachman an extra pound to ride over to Ten Width to fetch the family residing there. The coach rolled off, and before the clock in the hall chimed out the noon hour, it returned with Caroline, her son, and Michael Bray.

  Long into the night, while the candles burned low, did the family sit together, listening to Juleah's story. It was overall a sad tale, but adventurous beyond the wildest of imaginations. Thomas sat on the floor enraptured, admiring his brave sister in stunned silence. Jane laid her head on Juleah's shoulder. Juleah's mother and Caroline clasped their hands tight against their hearts in amazement, and Sir Henry looked on proudly.

  A late tea was brought in, and while the family partook, Bray pulled Seth aside and inquired what they were to do about Edward Darden's involvement, whether Latterbuck should be informed.

  “Will you seek revenge?” Bray asked.

  “Vengeance is not mine, Michael,” Seth answered. “I want justice.”

  Bray leaned toward Seth after catching his wife's eye. “I believe the best course of action is not to provoke a confrontation. Wait until he crosses your path or informs the constable. You have witnesses.”

  “I cannot be sure of ever meeting Darden by chance. As for Latterbuck, I doubt he’d listen, though he will be shocked to find us both living.”

  “I’d like to see the look on his face. At least he has nothing now to accuse you of. Your name is clear in the eyes of the law, I have no doubt.”

  “Well, perhaps Latterbuck will be pleased after all. As he says, there is no murder done in his district.”

  “Yet he forgets the body found in the fire and one Hetty Shanks. It is due to her station in life, I’m sure.”

  “I have not forgotten. I’ll ride to Crown Cove tomorrow.”

  “We’ll ride together this time and make him confess. Then we’ll summon the constable.”

  Juleah lay awake with the pillow next to her untouched. She sighed, and thought Seth and Michael had stayed up a long time talking and having their ale by the fireside with her father. Juleah did not mind. It was good for a man to sit with his fellows and talk of things he perhaps could not share with a woman. She glanced at the clock on the bedstand. He told her he’d be up in an hour, and the time drew near.

  She lay her head back, ran her fingertips over his pillow, and soaked in the coolness of the room. Tomorrow they’d bring the family back with them to Ten Width, and for the next four days spend the hours picnicking on the green, walking in the garden, and playing with the children. The fire damage had been repaired, and Caroline described to her how well Ten Width looked amid the autumn colors.

  She got up and drew the curtains back. Leaning against the sill, she gazed at the moon and admired how it spread its haze over the boxwoods. Beyond the house, she saw the pond she so loved gleaming in its light.

  An idea sprung into her mind. She could leave Seth a note on the pillow and ask him to meet her there. He would be coming up to their room any moment. It delighted her senses. She donned a dress over her chemise and drew out paper and quill. After setting the note in place, she slipped out onto the moonlit balcony and down the staircase that went into the garden.

  Through the grove, she weaved and walked down the grassy slope to the mossy bank.

  She started at the whinny of a horse, glanced up, and saw on the road above a coach with a pair of bays harnessed to it.

  “Juleah,” a voice called, and she whirled around. She could not see his face. He called again and a chill ran up her body. The mystery of it filled her with fear.

  She turned back toward the house and ran. Arms grabbed her, pulled her against a man's body. She could feel the roughness of the cloak he wore against her arms. She cried out and he covered her mouth with a gloved hand and squeezed. She shrank in his grasp, twisted and turned, as terror seized her.

  He dragged her to the road and to the coach. Thrown inside on velvet cushions she scrambled into the corner and watched him climb inside, his hat pulled down, hiding his face in the dark. With a crack of the whip, the horses bolted forward. Juleah's heart went cold within her breast. The world reeled, and she struggled to scream, to call for Seth, but it caught in her throat.

  The face she beheld belonged to Edward Darden.

  46

  “Let me out!”

  Juleah balled her fists, struck Darden across his broad shoulders. He grabbed her wrists and held her back.

  “I want to talk to you,” he said, with a pleading tone that sickened her. “You have nothing to fear from me, you know that. I’ve much to tell you, to convince you of. This was the only way.”

  “We have nothing to say to each other. Have your driver turn around. Return me home.”

  Darden set his mouth and looked away. “I cannot do that.”

  “I will scream. He’ll know I’m in trouble and stop.”

  “Habbinger obeys me. Don’t you see?”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “For a ride, so we can sort this out. I’ll explain everything.”

  His expression softened, like a lover's, and he skimmed his eyes over her beauty. Juleah pressed back against the cushions and looked away.

  “I’m happy you have come back to England.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  “I worried about you while you
were away.”

  “I was away by your doing.”

  “Mine?”

  “I remember everything.”

  Darden shifted closer. “I feared what had become of you. You can ask Habbinger, I was packed to leave, until I heard you were home.”

  Tears slipped down Juleah's cheeks, yet she did not sob. Instead, she threw him an angry glance. “Judith Dirk drowned in the sea when the ship met with a storm.”

  Darden's brows pinched. “That is unfortunate.” Then he turned away with his chin in his hand. “You need not tell me the details.”

  “Indeed not, for you’d have no stomach for it.”

  His jaw shifted. “You think me a weak man?”

  “You may not care to hear it, but I too would have drowned if hadn’t been for the bravery of a seaman and the goodness of a fisherman.”

  “I would have blamed myself if you had drowned.” He turned to her, attempted to lift her hand in his, but she jerked away.

  “Why did you let everyone go on believing I had died at Ten Width when you knew it wasn’t true?” she said. “Why would let them go on hurting?”

  “I’m sorry for causing your parents pain, but it could not be avoided.”

  “Oh, what a cruel thing to believe.”

  “I wanted to hurt Braxton more.”

  “You have hated him from the start.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because he inherited what you wanted?”

  “He won you, Juleah, and if it hadn’t been for Braxton, you would have been my wife. I saw my chance to get you away from him and took it. Do not hate me for it. I acted as any man deep in love would.”

  “And what did you, a man deep in love, intend to do with me by sending me off against my will?”

  “Judith Dirk was to take you to Carolina and care for you until time passed and people forgot. I was going provide for you,” he said.

  Juleah shouted at him. “As your mistress, in a country you think low of?”