Shadows of Love

by Gail MacMillan

  He turned and strode into his room across the hall. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Colin drew me back into our room.

  “Colin, don’t you want an explanation?” I asked as he started to get back into bed. “Aren’t you angry? He was crude and vulgar and…”

  “And very drunk.” He turned to me in the moonlight and spoke gently. “I understand him, Starr. He’s a strong man, but yesterday my father forced him into what amounts to a suicide mission, not only for himself but for his crew. Tonight he’s alone and probably seeing death as a very real and immediate possibility. Don’t judge him too harshly. Sober, he never would have behaved as he did just now. He’s a truly good man at heart. And my best friend.”

  He lay down, pulled the quilts over his shoulders, and turned on his side, prepared for sleep.

  ****

  I had spent the first days of my marriage buffered from the world, within the fold of the Douglas household. As a result, I had had no opportunity to meet the residents of the village and learn how the working people regarded the wealthy, powerful clan of which I had become a part.

  My curiosity on this matter peaked as I came out of the dining room after breakfast one morning. When I saw Abraham at the front door, pulling on his gloves in preparation to leave the house, I decided to begin finding the answer.

  “You’re going out, Mr. Douglas?” I asked.

  “Yes, my dear, on a tour of inspection,” he replied. “Tell Colin I want him to examine the keel my men are laying for that new vessel today. I’ll expect a full report no later than noon.”

  “Very well,” I said. “Perhaps I’ll accompany him.”

  “That wouldn’t be prudent. The docks are not fit for a lady.”

  “But…”

  “Come, walk me out.” He ignored my attempt at protest and smiled down at me. “I enjoy a pretty woman on my arm.”

  He crooked his elbow. I accepted his invitation and accompanied him out onto the wide verandah. At the foot of the steps waited a pair of burly, mounted riders, one holding a big gray saddled and ready.

  “Business associates.” Abraham dismissed the necessity of an introduction by waving at the pair. He kissed me on the cheek in a fatherly fashion before he mounted the magnificent stallion with an ease surprising in a man of his years.

  At the sudden weight, the animal began to prance and shy. Abraham yanked on the bit and kicked the animal in the ribs. The horse snorted and half-reared, then gave up the fight and stood, conquered and docile, while his master made himself comfortable in the saddle.

  “Don’t test me again today, my lad,” he warned, triumph in his voice. “You know I can be unpleasant when annoyed.”

  His tone lightened as he addressed me. “Starr, my dear, don’t forget to give your young man my message. Burt, Harry.” He turned to his rugged companions. “Let’s go. And mind you keep your eyes open.”

  He was about to ride away when a man in shabby homespun came running up the drive. Painfully thin, his long frame little more than a skeleton with a leathery cover of skin, the newcomer pulled his tattered straw hat from his balding head as he approached my father-in-law. Halting his shambling half-run he stood gasping in front of Abraham’s mount.

  “Mr. Douglas, sir…” He struggled to get out the words. “I must speak to you. Some of your men came to my farm this morning and ordered me and mine off our land. They said you’d foreclosed on our mortgage. I said you wouldn’t do such a thing. You’re not such a cruel man as to force me and my family from our home. You must tell them it’s a mistake. Mr. Douglas, sir, please! You must—”

  “It’s no mistake, Jacob,” the big man on the gray horse replied coldly. “You failed to hold up your end of our arrangement. In default, your farm becomes mine. You can have a job in my shipyards—I need laborers just now a good deal more than I need farmers. Your family can remain in the house, my house, for a percentage of your wages in rent. Now get out of my way.”

  Abraham gave the stallion a sharp crack with his quirt and sent him forward at a full gallop. The farmer jumped aside to avoid being trampled. My father-in-law cantered off down the drive, Burt and Harry closing ranks behind him.

  “Miserable old bastard! Blood-sucking cur!” the man yelled as the three ranged out of earshot. “Take a man’s home, will you? I’ll see you burn in hell for this one day!”

  ****

  “Colin, take me with you,” I said.

  I’d re-entered the house and found my husband in the foyer. He was preparing to leave for his appointed round of duties. After what I’d witnessed in the front yard, I knew I must see my husband at work. I had to know if he were as remorseless and hated as his father.

  “Starr, it’s going to be hot and dusty at the shipyards.” He took my hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “And I’ll be walking a great deal. You’d get tired.”

  “No, I won’t, I promise,” I begged. “Your father said you were to inspect the keel of his newest vessel. Surely that task won’t take much time. Colin, please! I get so lonely here all day without you.”

  A slight sound on the stairs behind us made us turn. Barret Madison, handsome and virile in well-fitted tan trousers and a white shirt open well down over his powerful chest, stood watching us from halfway down the curving stairwell.

  “Would you rather I stayed here with him?” I whispered.

  My husband’s gaze met the captain’s slow grin.

  “Get your bonnet,” he said.

  ****

  “She’ll be straight and clean, Mr. Douglas,” the shipyard foreman assured Colin as my husband inspected the long, smooth keel and skeletal ribs of a burgeoning hull.

  Other workers feigned absorption in their individual tasks, but all, I realized, were watching for Colin’s reaction to their product. Some of the glances were interested and friendly, but a few were sly and hostile. As I waited for Colin to finish his perusal of the bow, one rough-looking bystander caught my eye. I suppressed a gasp of dismay. It was Simon.

  “Young Douglas got himself a likely-looking wench, even if I hear she were a piece of steerage trash,” I heard him mutter to another man as he caught my glance. “She’s small at the waist, but with proper hips for gettin’ laid and bearin’ the results.”

  Trembling with outrage and fear, I hurried to my husband’s side and clutched at his arm. Colin looked down at me in surprise.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked. “You look positively ill.”

  “Please take me home, Colin,” I begged.

  “Yes, of course,” he agreed readily. “You see, I told you this day would be too much for you.”

  As we were about to leave the shipyard, a young man approached us. Thin and nervous, he wore the ragged, wet clothing of a steam pit worker.

  “Mr. Douglas, sir,” he addressed Colin, fingering the worn cap he clutched in his hands. “I was wonderin’, sir, if I might have a wee advance on me earnin’s this month. Me wife is near due, and I’ll be needin’ cash money to hire a midwife.”

  “Congratulations.” Grinning, Colin extended a hand to him. “Don’t worry about money. I’ll have my brother Randall tend your wife when her time comes.”

  “Thank ya, sir. God bless ya, sir. A real doctor! Sure, and Heather will be thinkin’ she’s a genuine lady, with such treatment. We’ll be namin’ the child after you if it’s a boy. And”—he looked shyly at me—“after your good lady if it’s a wee girl.” Then he turned and ran back to his job in the steam pit.

  Colin grinned down at me. “There goes a happy man.”

  “And what about you, Mr. Douglas, sir? Does this pretty little thing make you a happy man?”

  Turning, I saw Simon and several burly companions sneering at us from only a few feet away.

  “Come, Starr.” Colin took my arm and started to lead me away.

  Seeing the wisdom in his actions, I hurried obediently along beside him. Simon blocked our way.

  “I asked you a question, Mr. Douglas,” he leer
ed over those awful rotting teeth. “Does this piece of fluff make you happy? Does she warm your bed all well and proper? I’ll tell you true, sir, she could visit mine any night of the week, and I’d use her as a beauty like her deserves to be treated by a man.”

  “Get out of my way,” Colin grated over clenched teeth. “Go somewhere and sober up before I’m forced to terminate your employment.”

  “Ah, now, is that any way to talk to a man who’s complimentin’ you on your choice of whore?” Simon taunted. He shoved Colin with a dirty, hairy hand. “I understand your father’s good Captain Madison broke her seal for you, too. Thoughtful of him, wasn’t it? Saved you all the fuss and mess.”

  “God damn you!” Colin swung at the man, but he ducked, laughing, and rose to sink a hamlike fist deep into Colin’s middle.

  As my husband doubled up in agony, Simon brought up another fist to hit him squarely on the chin. In swift succession then, as Colin hurtled backward, he caught him twice in the groin with his heavy work boots.

  Colin roared in pain and fell on his back, writhing in agony in the dusty wagon road. Simon drew back his boot and kicked him again and again. My husband’s cries became pain-maddened bellows. I could stand no more.

  “Leave him alone!” I screamed and flung myself at the brute. My fear of the man had melted into red-hot rage. I kicked and clawed like an incensed feline.

  My efforts were futile. A huge beast with apish strength, he threw me from him as easily as I might brush a fly from my sleeve. I was sent sprawling into the dust a few yards from my moaning husband.

  “Son of a whore!”

  A hand suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere grabbed Simon by the shoulder and spun him about, just as he was about to kick Colin again. In a split second a fist had connected with the brute’s jaw and he was sent reeling back against a shed. His head crashed into a corner post. With a grunt of pain, Simon sank to the ground unconscious.

  For a moment there was absolute silence. As I struggled to my feet, I saw Barret Madison standing over our assailant, rubbing damaged knuckles.

  When he turned on the crowd of gaping workers which had gathered to watch, his expression was fierce.

  “Get back to work!” he barked. “And pray to God when I tell Abe about this incident I don’t decide to name the names of those of you who watched without so much as raising a finger while his son and daughter-in-law were being beaten!”

  The ring of spectators dispersed. The captain, after a swift glance in my direction, turned his attention to Colin. I scrambled to my feet and followed him. My husband lay doubled up in the dust, clutching himself and moaning.

  “Colin, oh, luv, oh, God!” I dropped on my knees beside him. His face was ashen, a thin trickle of blood running from a corner of his mouth. He rolled from side to side in agony.

  “Starr, go home!” he choked. “Get away from here! Now!”

  “Don’t worry about her, brother.” Kneeling beside us, Barret Madison took a small flask from a pocket of the loose vest he wore.

  “It hurts…hurts,” Colin moaned, his face contorted in agony.

  “I know,” Barret said. He screwed open the little bottle and held it to Colin’s lips. “Drink this. It will make the walk home easier for you.”

  Obediently my husband opened his lips and let the captain trickle reddish-brown liquid over them.

  “Laudanum,” Captain Madison explained when I looked questioningly at him. “A captain often needs it to kill severe pain when one of his crew is badly injured. I was on my way to place it aboard the Maris Stella when I heard the commotion.”

  “Thank God you were nearby,” I breathed.

  “Colin.” Barret put a hand on my husband’s shoulder. “I’m going to pick you up now. It will hurt, but I have to take you home.”

  My husband’s only response was a groan.

  The captain lifted his semi-conscious body into his arms and, although my husband was nearly as big as he was, began to carry him back toward Peacock House.

  Once, during that seemingly endless walk beneath a scorching sun, Colin rolled his head groggily and muttered, “Take me home, Barret, please take me home. I don’t want to stay in Vienna any longer.”

  “Never fear, brother,” Barret assured him. “I’ll always take you home.”

  ****

  It was late afternoon when Barret, Abraham, and Randall finally came downstairs from Colin’s room. I heard their muted voices in the hallway and rushed to join them. The hours I’d spent waiting in the drawing room had left my nervous system raw.

  “How is he?” I asked.

  “Very ill,” Randall said, his expression grim.

  “Why in God’s name did you insist he take you to the shipyards with him?” Abraham barked at me. “Caroline overheard you pressure him into it. Common sense should have told you that was no place for a decent woman. If you hadn’t been there, Colin wouldn’t have gotten into a fight over insults hurled at you. I want you to arouse him in bed, not to fighting. for God’s sake! Getting involved in fisticuffs is not what I meant when I said I wanted him to act like a man.”

  “I didn’t think…” I tried to defend myself.

  “Oh, but you do think, my dear,” he snapped. “Perhaps too much. Perhaps you’re even afraid that if he does act like a man with you, you will become pregnant and lose that slender figure. Perhaps you married my son for his money and hope to keep him too spent from fights and debauchery to give you a child.” His tone softened to a smooth, dangerous glide like the slither of a deadly snake’s easy approach. “Have you had a monthly cycle since you’ve been sleeping with Colin? Do you know when you’re fertile?”

  “Father!” Randall stopped him as tears of outrage filled my eyes. “This isn’t a matter to discuss in an open hallway. As for blaming Starr for Colin’s accident, all she wanted was to be with her husband. That’s hardly a crime, especially when you’re hoping for a pregnancy.”

  “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Abraham roared. “I’ve given this girl everything she could desire, and now she’ll do as I say! That means she’ll either produce a grandchild for me or be thrown from this house as ragged and penniless as she entered it.” Then he turned on me. “Go to your husband, girl. Wipe the sweat from his face, and hold his head while he vomits. I’m weary of the sight of you.”

  ****

  “This is all my fault, Colin,” I said, as I knelt beside his bed and took his cold fingers in mine. I was trembling, my head throbbing with a dull, incessant ache. “If I hadn’t taunted you into taking me with you… And that awful man—he was the one I told you about, the man who…who attacked me when I worked in the mines.”

  “Dear God, Starr, are you sure?” Colin started and tried to rise.

  “Lie still.” I eased him back onto his pillows. “Yes, I’m sure. One does not forget such a creature.”

  “No, no, I’m sure,” he muttered. “Filthy brute! Pig! Did he recognize you, do you think?”

  “No, I’m certain he didn’t. His eyesight is poor from years in the mines and…I’ve changed.”

  “Yes,” he breathed. “Still, we must be careful. I must make certain you are safe and that no tales get to Father that will jeopardize our marriage.”

  “Colin, don’t distress yourself. I can look after myself. As for your father…”

  “Starr, you promised not to antagonize him,” he rasped over fever-cracked lips. “Please, please obey me in this. You don’t know him. He can be dangerous and cruel.”

  I looked down at my husband and knew I could not deny him this one request. In the sultry, drapery-darkened room, he lay among snow-white sheets and pillows, his legs bent awkwardly. Beneath a single light cover he was naked; the weight of even the finest of bedding upon his injuries caused him severe pain. His face was haggard and drawn. Sweat beaded his forehead and chest.

  “Is it very bad?” I asked, my heart aching with concern.

  “No.” He tried to smile up at me. “In a couple of days
we’ll be out riding again.”

  Then the pain struck and he began to toss and moan.

  “Dear God!” he moaned, pulling up his legs and rolling to one side. “Oh, dear God!”

  “Colin.” Barret Madison was suddenly with us and taking my husband in his arms. “Breathe deep. That’s it. Try to relax. Think of your music. Imagine you can hear it.”

  Slowly Colin quieted and fell back among his pillows, sweating and spent.

  “Barret, I need…fresh linen,” he choked. “Starr, please leave. I’m not much of a gentleman today.”

  I arose and walked from the dark, hot room. On the threshold I turned and looked back to see Captain Madison removing the sheets from my husband’s battered body.

  ****

  For two days after the incident in the shipyards, Colin lay desperately ill. Randall or Barret was always at his bedside. My husband vomited and moaned; sometimes he was delirious. When he raved incoherently, my heart ached with fear. Dear God, help him, I prayed over and over again. I cannot bear to lose him.

  On the evening of the second day, as I was returning to Colin’s bedroom after a late supper in the dining room, I overheard Barret and Colin talking softly in the darkening room. I paused outside the door and listened.

  “I know you’d never touch Starr, Barret, but when that barbarian made that remark about…” Colin was speaking.

  “About my breaking her seal?” Barret finished when Colin paused. “I overheard. Colin, I’ll tell you the God’s truth. I gave Starr my cabin for the crossing. She couldn’t bear the hold. That was the extent of our relationship. That son of a whore must have learned of the situation and decided to make gossip of it. At any rate, he’ll think twice before he kicks a man in the groin again. Your father, in his capacity as magistrate of this valley, put him in jail to await trail for attempted murder when the circuit judge comes through.”

  “Barret, that man, the one who attacked me,” Colin’s voice dropped to little above a whisper. “He once attacked Starr…when she was a child in the mines in England. As yet he hasn’t recognized her, but I’m afraid he will, and…”