Daughter of Trade

by Lesley-Anne McLeod

  There were two men inside; Joseph's rush took one to the wall. Sebastian threw the other aside from where he bent over a heaving bundle on the floor that flamed at its edges. He knew without doubt that the blanketed figure was that of Dinah.

  "Dinah, stay still," he called. He forgot Joseph and Dinah's captors, thought of nothing but that Dinah was in terrible danger. He ripped off his greatcoat and flung it onto the flames, smothering their vicious threat and pinching out errant flickers with his bare hands. It was the work of seconds and smoke only curled from the blanket when he finally sat up. He cast the charred ruins of coat and blanket aside then, and drew Dinah, shivering and weeping with terror, into his lap. He cradled her with tender relief, feeling he could never release her. Only then did he look around the squalid room.

  Joseph had knocked out the one captor and had the pistol trained upon the other where he lay in a corner. With his free hand, he tossed a knife from his belt to Sebastian. Sebastian carefully removed Dinah's bonds, filled with rage at the sight of her chafed skin, overcome with thankfulness that it was her only hurt.

  Joseph exchanged the pistol for the rope that Sebastian had cut from Dinah. Quickly he tied up the ruffians he had subdued. He regained the pistol, pausing to pat his sister's head where it rested on Holly's shoulder, and stepped to the door. He fired into the air to alert the other searchers.

  "Are you hurt?" Sebastian, his voice unsteady, said to Dinah. He very gently rubbed her arms and legs to restore the circulation. "Burned? Why did they set you alight?"

  "They did not set me alight." Dinah was trembling. She clutched at Sebastian's ruined clothes, and touched his face with something he thought was wonder. To his satisfaction, she would not release him. Her chestnut hair was tumbling down her back, her face was dirty, and now that the danger was gone, tears streaked her cheeks and reddened her wide eyes. She looked beautiful to him.

  "I did it myself! I could not get free of the blanket to see what I might do to escape. I knew I was near the fire so I thought if I set the blanket aflame, they would have to take it from me."

  "Desperate measures," Sebastian said, while cradling her close again, rocking her a little.

  "I was desperate," she retorted, and succumbed once more to tears.

  He pressed her closer, raining kisses on her dirty cheeks and tangled hair. With one hand he drew a handkerchief from a pocket, and brought it to blot her face.

  "Your hand!" Dinah said. She ignored the handkerchief to snatch up his hand and examine the burns he had suffered. Then she took up the linen square and tied it gently about his fingers.

  When she had done, he rose with her in his arms.

  Joseph returned from the door. He pressed close to reassure his sister, and clap Sebastian on his shoulder.

  Within minutes they heard a carriage in the lane outside. Josiah Driffield burst into the cottage a moment later followed by John. A crowd of searchers and a press of curious cloth-dressers stood at the door.

  "She's unhurt," Sebastian managed to say, cradling his charge tenderly.

  John and Joseph stood together, thankfulness writ large on their faces. Mr. Driffield cleared his throat of some obstruction then said, "Bring her to the carriage, son." He did not attempt to deprive Holly of his burden.

  Sebastian was honoured and overwhelmed to be addressed as 'son' by this man he so liked and respected. He could not speak.

  "Let's go home," John and Joseph said.

  'Home' Sebastian thought. Holly Court was his estate, but where these people were--that was home.

  * * * *

  Safe in the circle of Sebastian's arms, and too weary to speak, Dinah leaned in to his warmth and strength on the return to Park Square. Sebastian said nothing but his hands were never still, alternately touching her hair, her cheek as if for reassurance and stroking her back to impart comfort. He did not press her to speak, and he had not to speak; he was there and that was enough.

  The smell of charred fabric kept her awake and fearful on the journey. She relived the events of the past hours, as she would tell them later to her family. When the Luddites had burst into her first captors' hiding place, she had already discerned that their kidnapping had been undertaken unwillingly and at the behest of someone they dared not refuse. From their desultory and unhappy conversation she had divined that they were not Luddites and that there was something strangely amiss in the whole affair. Their manner toward her was polite in the extreme, and she found herself unafraid of them.

  The newcomers, however, were a very different matter. They seemed positively to enjoy the violence of their encounter with her captors. And their handling of her held nothing of respect or consideration. Her bonds were tightened, her gag resecured and she was dragged from the hut, bundled into a handcart, and concealed by a smelly covering.

  Her new abode was no more than a hovel. She had been wrapped more securely in the blanket with her head well covered before she could see much, and was laid on the hard-packed earth floor. Her thoughts had been all of her family, and Sebastian, who would not find her at Park Square on his arrival. With her reflections came a decision that she would not, for want of trying, lose her chance at happiness. She must try to escape.

  Her captors spoke little; once she thought one of them departed for some time and then reentered. From that she ascertained that the door was to her right, and she knew without doubt that a fireplace was nearby, on her left.

  Her idea when it came to her was daunting. She had to be able to see about her if she was to escape, and to see she had to remove the obnoxious blanket. Surely they would take it from her if it caught fire. Of course, she herself might be burned, but she had a notion that the Luddites would not let her burn. She was too valuable to them.

  Her decision made, she twisted herself to roll toward the heat. She heard the flaring hiss of the fire, just before one of her captors shouted, and then confusion had reigned with the crash of the door.

  When it was all over, she was in Sebastian's arms, as she was still, now as they pulled up before No. 5. He carried her within, and they were all there, all her family. Harriet and Adelaide burst into tears as Dinah gave them a weary smile, and Hamilton drew a hand across his eyes. Geoffrey sniffed inelegantly.

  It was to her mother that Dinah spoke. "I am sorry Mama, to give you all such worry." She was alarmed to see Mrs. Driffield's eyes fill with tears.

  She merely kissed her daughter's cheek however, and said, "It is over, my love. We shall hear your tale tomorrow. Bring her to her chamber, Sebastian, this way."

  Without hesitation, he bore her up the stairs. Sebastian--she leaned into his strength. He seemed to find her no burden at all. She lifted a dirty hand and touched the faint stubble on his weary face, traced the line of his aquiline nose, and the curve of his lower lip. He looked down at her and she caught her breath at the adoration in his bright hazel gaze. He laid her on her bed, and she clung to his hand preventing his departure.

  "Sebastian? Mama, he must not leave." She knew, without doubt, that her mother, following them into the room, would hear the anxiety in her voice.

  "He is going no further than the guest chamber, Dinah. 'Tis three of the clock. Everyone is worn to a thread. Like you he will have a hot bath, and then sleep. You will see him tomorrow."

  "Rest, my darling," Sebastian whispered to her as he bent to kiss her gently. "I shall be here in the morning. I should never have left. "

  Tears of exhaustion filled her eyes, but she knew her gaze spoke as surely of her love as his had of his devotion.

  The following day, as the little ormolu clock on her mantel struck twelve, Sebastian and her father were admitted to Dinah's chamber. She sat up against her pillows with a capacious, sapphire shawl over her nightrail, her unconfined hair curling about her shoulders. She was rested, unharmed, and impatient to see Sebastian. As she accepted a fond embrace from her father, she peered over his shoulder at her beloved, wishing she might give him one also. She could read a similar desire on his f
ace. Their gazes clung, though neither spoke.

  Josiah Driffield sat in a bedside chair, while Holly remained standing.

  "Thank you lad, with all my heart. You saved my girl."

  Dinah was glad her father initiated the conversation, for she was quite tongue-tied.

  Sebastian seemed to recollect himself with no little effort. "Your sons would have found her, sir."

  "Aye, perhaps, but your love led you unerring I believe?"

  "Yes sir. And I would still like to marry Dinah, if she will accept me."

  A shiver of delight crept up Dinah's spine. But still she said nothing.

  "Thought you weren't going to return," Mr. Driffield said. "Taken you long enough, lad."

  "I believed what she said, sir, that she'd have none of me. Until John gave me her message."

  Dinah could not prevent a blush at his plain statement of fact.

  "Well, she's changed her mind." Driffield looked delighted. "The silly lass was all bound up with pride and fear. Good on ye for coming back. I shall give you ten minutes here alone, then if you will carry her downstairs we shall wait for you in the parlour. We have yet to hear the whole tale of this nightmare."

  "Then I've your permission to ask for her hand?"

  "My answer's the same as the first time. Aye, of course you have. Ask her again." Mr. Driffield was gone with surprising agility for a man of his size and age.

  Dinah watched Sebastian advance to her bedside. Her heart's desire, she knew, could be seen in her eyes. "Sebastian..." she said shyly. "I have done you a great wrong. I did not believe in you--I was afraid, and oh so proud."

  "I was just as afraid, but of your family and whether I could bring you happiness. Then when we arrived to discover you gone last evening, I was terrified," he said. He seated himself on the bed, and drew her into his arms. "Dinah, I love you. Please say that you have changed your mind."

  "I have not changed my mind," she mumbled into his shoulder.

  He stiffened but did not relax his embrace.

  "I have understood it," she continued. "I love you and always have. No change was necessary." She was overwhelmed as he sought her lips in eager passion. She responded without hesitation or inhibition.

  Her shawl had fallen away by the time Sebastian said, "Your father was wise to allow us only ten minutes--such a clever man." They both laughed. "Will you marry me?"

  "Will you marry me and all my family?" she teased, leaning back to look in his handsome hazel eyes. Her hands traced a pattern on his broad shoulders, down to his chest, and back to hold his fine-boned face between her palms.

  "I will, with delight. I cannot wait to brag upon my family. And I shall hope to add to their number," he retorted. "I shall love them all, all the aunts and uncles to our children, and their grandparents. But we must go down now."

  "Why?" Daringly she leaned forward to tease his lips with hers.

  "Because John and Joseph will be sent to remove me, if we do not, and I should hate to have them find us in a very compromising situation."

  Dinah released him. The fiery heat in her cheeks was as intense as the fire she felt in her blood.

  "And besides, I must inform Geoffrey that Merry, the brown mare, awaits him at Holly Court. I want to tell Hamilton that Holly Court has a fine spot for a cricket pitch, and offer Harriet the run of the great library at the Court. I want Joseph to come and criticize my estate management, and Mr. and Mrs. Driffield to enjoy the country. And you must tell us all the complete story of your desperate adventure."

  Dinah slid from the bed, tinglingly aware of his heated gaze. She caught up a damask bedgown and donned it. "You need not carry me. I am quite able to walk."

  "Just as well," he teased. "For if I carry you, it will only be back to your bed." He opened the door, belying his words.

  "Shall we marry soon?" she said.

  "Very soon," he promised. "And I have the notion that our whole family is waiting in the drawing room to tell us how to go about it."

  ~ The End ~

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