Lovestorm

by Judith E. French

  “I have a pistol at her head,” Thomas said. “I’ll blow her brains out if you don’t surrender.”

  Elizabeth swallowed hard and shut her eyes.

  “What’s it going to be?” Thomas demanded. He caught hold of Elizabeth’s hair, and she winced with pain.

  They waited, not speaking, and the sound of their breathing was loud in the darkness. Tess was the first to smell the smoke. “Fire!” she cried. “The manor’s on fire.”

  “The place is dry as tinder,” Shiner said. “It’ll go up like an ’ay rick.”

  “Fetch the box, Tess,” Thomas said.

  “No.”

  He whirled on her. “What did you say?”

  “I’ll not go back there and risk fryin’ fer yer gold. Fetch it yerself, if ye want it so bad.” Thomas slapped her across the face, and she backed away, crying. “No, I ain’t goin’ back alone,” she repeated. “Smack me all ye want, but I ain’t that stupid.”

  “Wait here then,” he said, shoving Elizabeth down to the floor. “Don’t move, and don’t let loose of the wench. If he means to take her, he’ll not risk killing her.”

  Elizabeth laid her head against a fallen beam and tried not to panic. The cloth cut into the sides of her mouth and made it difficult to breathe. I could die here, she thought. She blinked away tears and bit her lower lip to hold back the overwhelming fear. And what of the child you carry? an inner voice cried. If you die, your unborn child dies with you. Are you a Sommersett, or a puling goose girl?

  Our child—Cain’s and mine. Suddenly, she was absolutely certain that she carried Cain’s babe, and the knowledge gave her strength to battle the terror. Her forehead creased with determination, and she straightened her bowed shoulders. I won’t let you die, she promised the tiny spark of life in her womb. I’ll do whatever I have to, but I won’t let you die.

  “I say let the devil ’ave ’er,” Shiner said.

  “Hold yer tongue,” Tess cautioned. “Ye heard what the captain said. We’re safe as long as we have her.”

  Elizabeth heard the owl hoot again, and her failing courage rose. I’ll jump up and run, she thought. Maybe they won’t shoot. If I’m dead, they can’t get the ransom.

  Minutes passed. Slowly, Elizabeth stood up, gauging the distance to the door. If she was quick enough, perhaps they wouldn’t be able to stop . . . Her spirits plunged as the sound of a man’s harsh breathing signaled Captain Thomas’s return.

  He was panting as he lowered a heavy metal box to the floor. “The far end of the house is on fire,” he said hoarsely. “Smoke’s pretty thick in there already.”

  “Let ‘er go,” Shiner urged. “ ‘E’s waitin’ out there in the dark, I kin feel it. ‘E’ll put an arrow through us jest like ’e did poor Will.”

  Thomas moved forward to grab Elizabeth’s arm. “Who is it?” he demanded, pulling the gag away. “Who’s out there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He took her by the shoulders and shook her until she feared her neck would snap. “Don’t lie to me! Who is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Thomas cuffed her across the face. “Lying slut. I’ll teach you to—”

  “Leave off!” Tess cried. “That’s doin’ no good. We gotta get out o’ here before the roof bums over our heads. Push her out first. If he wants t’ shoot, let him shoot her.”

  Thomas pulled Elizabeth in front of him and shoved her toward the open door. “We’re coming out!” he shouted. “Shoot and you kill the woman.” He glanced back at Shiner. “Bring the box. If you drop it, I’ll kill you.”

  Tess and Shiner pressed closely at the captain’s back as the four stepped into the firelit courtyard. Tess held her weapon ready as Shiner staggered under the weight of the money box.

  Sparks from the roof of the manor house had ignited the stable, and Elizabeth gasped as the heat of the fire hit her full in the face. Choking, she closed her eyes against the smoke and stumbled. Thomas caught her.

  “Make a move and I’ll kill her,” he threatened. Once more, he took hold of her hair and pressed the pistol against her head. “I mean what I say. They’ll hang me no longer for two women than for one.”

  Cain wiggled backward through the grass as they moved away from the house. It would be child’s play to kill the little man and the woman, but the big man was the leader. Cain couldn’t kill him without taking the chance of hitting Elizabeth, or of having the highwayman shoot her if Cain’s arrow only wounded him. As hard as it was to wait, he knew he must.

  Firing the house had been a risk, but it would bring other Englishmen. If Edward’s men followed the trail he had left, the flames in the sky would bring them quickly. Without horses, the bandits who held Elizabeth prisoner could not get away. Either he would kill them, or the earl’s men would.

  The outlaw’s woman, the one he’d heard them call Tess, carried a gun too. He had surprised her in the house when he was searching for Elizabeth and had taken a weapon from her then. Now this Tess had another pistol, and he knew instinctively that she was as dangerous as either of the men. She was a woman who could kill as easily as a shark kills, and with as little regret. He had seen the ruthlessness in her eyes. A wiser man would have finished her when he had the chance. Cain sighed. Have I put Elizabeth’s life at risk because I would not cut a woman’s throat?

  Cain glanced up at the cloud-strewn sky. The moon played tricks tonight, now giving light, now plunging the earth into total darkness. It was a bad night for an archer. But a good night for wolves, he thought. The trace of a smile creased his lips. What would these English manake think of a Lenape wolf?

  Shiner’s nerves were raw as they entered the all-encompassing gloom of the forest. A twig snapped under Tess’s foot, and he jumped, nearly dropping the heavy box. He stared hard at the darker outlines of the tree trunks. Then something rustled in the dry leaves and he let go of the box and fired his pistol wildly into the darkness.

  “What the hell are you shooting at?” Thomas spun around, wrenching Elizabeth’s arm cruelly.

  “I ‘eard somethin’. Over there.” Frantically, Shiner began to reload his pistol.

  “Fool!” Tess spat. She knelt beside the money box and began to scoop up the gold and silver coins that had scattered on the ground, dumping them back in the container. “That’s all I kin see, Jackie.”

  “Pick up that box and keep walking,” Thomas ordered Shiner.

  Overhead, the clouds parted and moonlight filtered through the branches. Elizabeth stifled a cry of fright as the bloodcurdling howl of a hunting wolf echoed through the trees, followed by a second, and then a third.

  Tess shivered and moved closer to Thomas. “Mother of God,” she whispered. “What’s that?”

  “Wolves,” Thomas whispered harshly. “But that’s crazy. There haven’t been any wolves in Essex in a hundred years.”

  A ray of hope bubbled up in Elizabeth’s mind. I know of one wolf that could be out there, she thought with rising excitement. A wolf with bronze skin and hair as black as a crow’s wing.

  “It’s that devil,” Shiner said. “Devils and witches kin turn themselves into anythin’. I seed one burned in Cornwall what would turn ’erself into a black pig.”

  “Shut yer gob ’bout witches and such,” Tess said. “I don’t like that talk.”

  “Let me go,” Elizabeth said. “You’ve lost your horses, and my husband’s men are out there in the woods waiting for you. If you want to save your lives, you’ll take your stolen goods and run.”

  “Aye,” Shiner said. “She’s talkin’ sense. Let’s go while we kin.”

  Thomas turned the pistol on the little man. “I told you to pick up the box.”

  Shiner took a step backward. “Split it up now, cap’n. I want no more o’ this. It smacks o’ ’ellfire. Jest give me what’s rightfully mine.”

  “You’ll have your fair share,” Thomas promised.

  “Will I?” Shiner raised his pistol, and Tess leaped at him from behind, bringing her pist
ol down across his wrist. With a cry of pain, he dropped his gun and turned and ran, tripping and crashing through the woods like a madman.

  “Come back here!” Thomas shouted.

  Tess raised her pistol and fired at the little man’s back. Shiner screamed once and toppled, thrashing into the underbrush. Thomas released Elizabeth, and she darted away, running for her life.

  “Jackie!” Tess yelled. “The woman.”

  Thomas whirled just as Elizabeth’s foot tangled in a tree root and she fell headlong to the ground. His pistol clutched in his hand, Thomas ran toward the spot where she lay.

  “Cain!” Elizabeth struggled to get up as the highwayman closed the distance between them, but her bound wrists kept her off balance and she fell once more.

  Thomas loomed over her, breathing hard. “A pity you have to die, pretty lady,” he said softly, “but as you said, you’re of no more use to us.” He lowered the pistol and took careful aim at Elizabeth’s head.

  Watching from his hiding place among the trees, Cain dropped to one knee and notched an arrow in the bowstring. For a heartbeat, he held the arched bow, waiting, praying. Then a single ray of moonlight pierced the darkness and he released the arrow. It flew like a hawk to the kill.

  “Damn me.” Thomas sounded almost surprised as the arrow plunged through his chest. He dropped to his knees and fell forward on top of Elizabeth, and Cain hurled himself toward them. Elizabeth tried to roll free, but the weight of the highwayman’s body pinned her to the ground.

  “Jackie!” Tess’s scream echoed through the trees.

  “Cain!” Elizabeth cried. “Watch out for—”

  Cain leaped toward Thomas as Tess raised Shiner’s pistol and fired point-blank at him. The explosion deafened Elizabeth momentarily, but her eyes were wide open. In horror, she watched as the force of the bullet struck Cain in the head and threw him backward into the deep grass.

  Chapter 23

  “Jackie!” Tess wailed. She dropped Shiner’s empty weapon and crouched beside Thomas. “Ah, Jackie me boy, ye’ve gone and done fer yerself, now.” She tugged at his upper body, cradling him against her, and Elizabeth, soaked with his blood, wiggled out from under him.

  A pale shaft of moonlight illuminated the black-haired woman’s grief-contorted features as the two stared at each other. Sweat broke out on Elizabeth’s face as she fought to loosen the bindings that cut into her wrists.

  “Whore!” Tess’s tears fell onto the dead highwayman’s face. “ ’Tis yer fault, all o’ it. Jackie shoulda killed ye straight off.” Her gaze fell on the pistol still gripped in her man’s right hand. “I can’t bring him back, but I can finish ye.” Tess lunged for the pistol as Elizabeth’s hands came free.

  Before Tess could raise the gun to fire at her, Elizabeth charged Tess and knocked her down. Over and over they rolled, kicking and scratching, each struggling fiercely for possession of the pistol. Tess held on to the heavy wheel-lock with a death grip, but Elizabeth’s right-hand fingers dug into Tess’s wrist, and she struck at Tess with her left fist. Tess yanked Elizabeth’s hair and tried to gouge her eyes with her fingernails.

  Tess bit down on Elizabeth’s forearm. Elizabeth cried out in pain and butted her head against Tess’s exposed chin. The pistol fell from Tess’s grasp. Elizabeth straddled her and delivered two hard blows to Tess’s face with her right fist. Then Elizabeth grabbed handfuls of Tess’s tangled hair and pounded her head against the ground.

  Tess’s hands closed around Elizabeth’s throat, and Elizabeth punched her in the nose. As Tess’s nose began to spout blood, the fight went out of her. Sobbing, she tried to protect her injured face with her hands. Elizabeth seized the pistol and scrambled to her feet, aiming the weapon at her opponent.

  The sound of baying hounds and a hunting horn rang through the forest. “That’s Lord Dunmore’s men,” Elizabeth warned. “Stay where you are, or I’ll save them the trouble of hanging you.” She backed away slowly, then dropped to her knees beside Cain.

  Despite the feeble light, she could see that his face was covered in blood. “Cain,” she whispered. “Cain?” She laid down the gun and touched his face with a trembling hand. To her relief, his skin was warm to the touch. “Cain, can you hear me?”

  He lay motionless, his arms sprawled over his head, eyes closed.

  “No use to call the dead,” Tess said. “He’s as stiff as me poor Jackie.”

  Elizabeth laid her cheek against Cain’s chest and listened. She was certain she heard a faint heartbeat. “You’re alive.” Cautiously, her fingers probed his hair for the bullet wound and found a ragged path across the crown of his head. The laceration was bleeding badly. Pulling up her skirts, Elizabeth tore the hem of her shift with her teeth and ripped off a length of cloth to staunch the flow of blood.

  Quickly, she wadded up a section and pressed that against the gash. Then she wrapped a makeshift bandage tightly around Cain’s head. When she glanced back toward Tess, the woman was gone, but Elizabeth didn’t care. All that mattered to her was keeping Cain from bleeding to death.

  “Darling, don’t die on me. Please don’t die.” She took his face between her hands and kissed his lips. “You can’t leave me . . . not now,” she murmured.

  Elizabeth’s chest tightened until she could scarcely draw breath; her eyes stung with unshed tears as she covered his face with kisses. I can’t lose him now! Not after all that’s happened. She lifted his hand and clasped it against her breast. “If you live, I’ll never leave you again,” she promised. “As God is my witness. If you live, we’ll go home to America together—the three of us.”

  “Truly?” Cain’s voice was barely audible.

  “Cain?” Joy rushed through her body. “Cain?” His eyelids flickered. “Ili kleheleche, n’tschutti?” Do you yet draw breath, my beloved?

  “N’leheleche,” she replied. “I live, my husband.” She laid her head against his bare chest again, and this time his heartbeat was strong and regular.

  He struggled to sit up but had not the strength.

  “Lie still,” she begged. “You’ve lost so much blood. Lie still until help comes.”

  His fingers found her hair and stroked it. “Did you mean what you have spoken? Will you go home with me?”

  “Yes . . . yes.”

  “Will you build my lodge fire and listen to my tales until we be old together?”

  “I will.”

  “N’wiquihilla. I am weary.”

  Fear blossomed in Elizabeth’s heart. “Hold my hand,” she said. “Hold tight, darling.”

  “The . . . the bandit woman,” he mumbled. “I . . . I should have . . . should have . . .”

  “Shhh. Don’t worry, love. She won’t hurt us anymore.”

  “I come . . .” His breathing was harsh. “I come to save you, wife. Now, you must . . .” Cain’s eyes closed, then snapped open. “I am the tumme, the wolf. Did you know?”

  “I knew,” she answered softly. “I knew you would come to save me.”

  “Eliz-a-beth.” His head lolled to one side, and she gave a cry of anguish. “No,” he said. “Have not tears. This one . . . does not die so easy. Let me sleep . . . just a little . . . and we will . . .”

  A dog barked, and then the first rider galloped up through the trees. Elizabeth stood and called out to him. “Over here. We’re here.”

  The groom reined in his horse and leaped from the saddle, pistol in hand. “We found a dead man back there near the stables.” He pointed with the muzzle of the gun. “Be ye safe, lady?”

  Elizabeth recognized his voice. “Tom?”

  “Aye, ’tis me.” He took a few steps toward her. “We saw the fire. Are the outlaws—”

  “All dead but one, a woman. She ran off into the woods.” Elizabeth knelt and took Cain’s head in her lap. “He saved my life, but he’s been shot.”

  Tom drew closer, pistol ready. He kicked at Thomas’s still form. “Yer well, m’lady? They’ve not ’armed ye?”

  “Please help me wi
th him.” Already blood had soaked through Cain’s bandage. “The wound will have to be stitched up.” She put her fingertips against his lips to reassure herself that he was still breathing.

  Tom raised the pistol until it was level with her chest. “Lady?” His voice cracked, and the gun wavered.

  “Tom? What’s wrong with you? I told you that the highwaymen are all dead. Put that gun down and help me get him to your horse.”

  “Aye, lady,” he said softly. “I reckon that’s best.”

  In minutes they were surrounded by the sheriff and his retinue. Whining dogs milled in circles and sniffed at Captain Thomas’s body as the men with torches gathered in tight knots. Robert dismounted, handed his reins to another man, and hurried toward Elizabeth. “M’lady, are you all right?”

  “Well enough,” she replied. “But Savage’s hurt badly.”

  Robert bent to examine the Indian. “What happened to him?”

  “He was shot. The ball only creased his head, but he’s lost a terrible amount of blood.”

  Robert’s eyes met Tom’s. “His head may be broken. ‘Tis more fittin’ if you let us care for him, m’lady.”

  Elizabeth clung tightly to Cain’s limp hand. “No. He’s my responsibility. He was hurt trying to save me.”

  The sheriff called for light, and someone thrust a torch into the dead highwayman’s face. “Anyone know his name?” the sheriff asked.

  Elizabeth looked up. “That’s Captain Thomas,” she said. “There’s another one over there in the woods. The woman shot him.”

  The sheriff stared hard at the dead outlaw. “I don’t know who he is,” he said, “but he’s not Captain Thomas. I saw the real Captain Thomas tried in London two years ago . . . got a good look at his face. They sentenced him to hang, but he escaped from Newgate. He’s still active, but this isn’t him.”

  “This man told me told me he was Captain Thomas.”