Kira eased herself into the chair next to the small table by the window. She picked at the food, not really tasting it. When she was half done with her meal, her uncle barged into the room.
“Can’t you knock?” asked Kira in an irritated manner, trying to hide the fact that she was not heavily sedated. Above all, she must not give away her knowledge of his plans for her.
“Be quiet!” he growled at her. Anger radiated from him like heat from a fire as he stood in the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“I have decided that you are to leave New Windsor. It would have been today, but that damned fool Commodore quarantined the harbor looking for a deserter!” While he spoke, he carefully observed Kira’s reaction to his words. They were calculated to hurt her.
Kira looked shocked, letting her lower lip tremble slightly. The tears that pooled in her eyes were not entirely false, and she could not hold them back.
“You were to leave for England today. Now it will have to be tomorrow!”
“You have no right to rule my life!” she screamed at him. Although she was powerless to change her situation, she had to fight in whatever way she could. If she had had something near, she would have tried to kill him right then.
“I am weary of your telling me about my rights!” he screamed back at her. “You are going! Tomorrow! That is final!” Cornwall then reached into his pocket and withdrew a vial of white powder. Kira felt her stomach lurch and she gritted her teeth.
“I paid another visit to Dr. Chatham. He gave me several vials of your medication.” He smiled, fingering the vial lovingly. “I will not be bothered by you until you board the ship.”
“And if I refuse?” challenged Kira.
“Then I will have the doctor administer it and assist you as you board so that there will be no gossip. And should something happen to you in England or on the ship, why, I would be disconsolate at my loss.” Cornwall picked up the now cold cup of tea that had been sitting on Kira’s tray and poured the laudanum in. “Drink!”
Kira did as she was ordered, praying that the mixture’s strength would be no more than last night’s. Cornwall stood and watched her silently, as he waited for the mixture to affect her.
“Will Ruth be going with me?” asked Kira. She tried to keep all emotion from her voice. Cornwall smiled at her as he fingered the scratches that Kira had given him. They were still an angry red, but the skin was already healing.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he said.
Kira felt the now familiar fuzziness signaling that the drug was taking effect. She allowed her eyelids to droop, as she willed the laudanum to take over. She stood up unsteadily and began to walk to the bed, but halfway there she felt her legs turn to rubber and she stumbled slightly. James Cornwall grabbed her, steering her to the bed and placing her on it. Then, as he bent over his niece, he let one fleshy hand cover her breast.
“What happin’ to Miz Kira?” cried Ruth as she reentered the bedroom. Startled, Cornwall pulled his hand way and turned to face the black woman.
“She’s sleeping. She will be leaving here tomorrow.” Cornwall stared at Ruth menacingly and added, “You may be going with her—but then, you may not.” Cornwall laughed at her, then grabbed her chin, jerking her head up roughly. “But either way, you are a worthless piece of baggage.” He released her and walked out.
Ruth ran to Kira’s side and bent over her. “Kira? Are you all right?”
She barely heard Ruth’s voice but was able to nod in response. Then, finally, darkness overtook her.
When she awoke several hours later, Ruth was at her side.
“You’ve packed everything?” asked Kira. Ruth nodded without speaking. She looked despondent as she stood there; she seemed exhausted, almost at the breaking point. “Did you sleep last night? Or today?” Kira asked.
Ruth shook her head.
“Did you pack your things?”
“No.... Your uncle told me if I was going I would have time.”
Kira let a cry of rage escape from between her clenched teeth and Ruth knew exactly what burned in the young woman’s mind. “No. Don’t say anything else to him. There’s still hope—Doctor Chatham or Sean Rouger…”
“I don’t know,” Kira sighed despondently. “What can they do now?”
Ruth took a deep breath and tried to smile at her mistress. “Everyone knows you’re leaving. The cook cried all afternoon—and I cried with her. So much has happened,” said Ruth quietly. Then she added, more to the air than to Kira, “Why is he so afraid of one small woman?”
Kira shook her head and looked warmly at Ruth. “We’ll work something out. I won’t leave you in his hands.”
Ruth smiled back and went down to the kitchen for Kira’s next meal. When she returned, she placed the tray on the table, but put her hand over the soup bowl.
“Don’t eat this,” she warned Kira. “Your uncle put more white stuff in it.” They took the soup bowl and emptied it into the bedpan. Kira shared the meal with Ruth and then they both waited for the visit they knew James Cornwall must pay. He was there within the half-hour, bringing the next dose of the white mixture, which Kira downed without protest.
When Cornwall left, Ruth sat on the edge of Kira’s bed. She held her friend’s hand and watched as the drug took effect. They were silent, communicating only by their shared touch. Kira took one last look at the room she had been forced to live in, the room she would now be forced to leave. Her deep green eyes darted from the furniture and walls to rest finally on the open window. And as the final weak rays of daylight filtered into the room, her eyes closed.
<><><>
Sean Rouger pulled his horse into a clump of trees a quarter mile away from New Windsor. He dismounted and hobbled his mount’s back legs so that the animal could not bolt. As an added precaution, he set the horse on a short lead to keep him secured within the trees. If Sean ran into trouble at New Windsor, he didn’t want to waste time trying to find the gelding.
Sean walked with a sure pace toward New Windsor. It was late and he was counting on Cornwall’s servants and slaves being asleep—and he hoped Cornwall would be asleep as well. Sean kept moving along a path that he knew would take him to the back of the main house and would open between the house and the slave huts. When he reached a clearing and broke through the shrubbery, he found himself closer to the main house than he had intended.
Quickly he crouched near the ground, affording as incomplete a view of himself as possible. He surveyed the area closely. The slave houses showed no movement, as Sean had presumed.
With a sigh of relief but without easing his vigilance, Sean melted back into the shrubbery and circled around to the front of the house. As he reached a good vantage point, he froze. Directly in front of the main house, silhouetted by the two-story high columns, was a carriage. The driver was seated in the front. Sean stood still, carefully observing the man, but when he saw the man’s head nod, he became certain that he was sleeping.
Quietly, Sean picked his way through the azaleas and camellias, stifling a cry as a Spanish bayonet—an aptly named plant—caught the inside of his thigh. When he reached the side of the house, he stepped out from behind a large magnolia and his eyes again scanned the windows of the house. All the windows on the upper floor were dark but there was one faint light on inside the first floor. That was Cornwall’s study, if his memory served him properly.
Sean moved swiftly, hoping that the darkness of his clothing and the weak light of the moon would make him almost invisible. He reached the side of the house and, as he passed the lit window, he lifted himself on the balls of his feet to peer inside. Cornwall and his guest, a coarse-looking man dressed in finery, were deep in conversation.
Without wasting any more time, Sean moved around to the stairway of the piazza and removed his boots before taking the wooden stairs. At the fourth step his weight caused the wood to squeak, and Sean froze in his tracks. Carefully, he lifted his foot from the step and placed it on the one abo
ve. He tested it carefully, listening for the sound of someone who might have detected his presence. Not a sound! Slowly, he continued his way to the piazza.
Sean crossed the pine planking of the piazza and made his way to the mahogany double doors leading into the main house. There he listened intently for several seconds before turning the knob. He pulled the handle toward him: the door opened smoothly. In a plantation filled with slaves and servants, it was rare to find a door barred.
As Sean stepped into the main hall, he pressed himself back against the wall and cautiously made his way toward the staircase. The door to James Cornwall’s study was closed, and there seemed to be no possibility of eavesdropping through the thick cypress wood. After another moment, Sean started toward the great staircase.
As quietly as possible, he ascended the curving staircase; upon reaching the top, he turned left, following Chatham’s instructions. There were nine rooms on the second floor—the great ballroom, Cornwall’s bedroom and private drawing room and his wife’s suite of rooms occupied the right wing; the guest rooms and the suite of rooms that had been Benjamin’s occupied the left wing. Sean walked slowly, being careful to stay on the Oriental carpeting covering the center of the hallway. He stopped at the third door.
Ruth was not asleep on her mat in front of the door (as both Chatham and Sean had thought she would be) but Sean was still quite sure these were Kira’s rooms. He debated for only a second before he quietly pushed on the door handle, pausing to see if anyone lay in wait for him. When he was satisfied that all was quiet, he pushed the door completely open and entered the dark room. Only the moonlight, coming through the opened curtains, permitted him to see his hand before his face. Sean paused after closing the door to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Then he made his way to the next doorway and Kira’s room. He heard a noise and spun around, his senses tingling in alarm.
His eyes pierced the darkness, and he was finally able to make out the shape of a small woman with a weapon upraised in her hand. It was Ruth. Terror was etched in her features as she moved cautiously toward him, like an animal about to spring.
“Ruth,” he said in a low whisper. The sound of her name halted her, but she still kept the large kitchen knife in front of her. It glinted in the moonlight. “I mean you no harm...”
Ruth shook her head and started toward him again. She was only three feet away now.
“I am a friend of Chatham. He told you I would come,” Sean ventured in a firm voice. He saw her eyes focus, the fear beginning to drain from her face. Ruth’s shoulders slumped and tears welled in her eyes. The knife fell from her fingers, landing quietly on the rice carpet.
“I thought it was master coming for me again,” she sobbed. “Don’t tell Abraham.”
Sean nodded, understanding at once, but she could no longer contain the grief and hurt she had been enduring. Sean came to her, his arms outstretched, and he held her until the spasms of tears had passed. Then he led her to the window seat and gently sat her down.
“How long has this been going on?”
“It started a few nights ago. He came up here drunk. He wanted Kira. I was in the way. I tried to stop him...”
Sean touched her hand in sympathy. Of course she’d had no choice. Cornwall might have killed her if she’d fought. “No one will learn of it from me.”
“But the knife was foolish,” he admonished her, bending to retrieve the knife she had dropped. “If you killed Cornwall you would die the worst of deaths. If Cornwall lived, your life would become a nightmare.”
“I could face no more.”
“Are you to go with Kira?”
Ruth shook her head sadly. “I don’t know.”
“If he keeps you here, I shall arrange your escape,” he promised rashly. Ruth looked deeply into his eyes and read only truth in them.
“Go to her,” she said softly, wiping the last tear from her cheek. “If anyone comes, I will make a noise. The coral vines below the window are strong enough to hold you.” Ruth stood up, taking her sleeping mat and laying it across the inside threshold. No one could enter that room without stumbling over her.
As Sean turned to the door, Ruth’s low whisper reached him.
“I know she cares for you.”
Sean smiled at Ruth in the darkness and pushed the door to Kira’s bedroom open.
Moonlight spilled through the window, bathing everything in its glow. She was as beautiful as he had remembered her, lying in the four-poster bed, mosquito netting surrounding the bed like a cocoon. Her hair was spread upon the pillow, its fiery radiance subdued by the darkness. Sean turned and quietly closed the door.
<><><>
“I want no mistakes, Captain. Everything must go as I’ve instructed,” insisted James Cornwall, as he slammed his open hand on the desk top.
“It will be done,” replied the man seated across the study. He patted his inside jacket pocket. “After we dock in England, I will personally take your niece to the Cornwall home and deliver your letter. There will be no problems.”
“She can be tricky, Zachery. And dangerous. She has no fear.” Cornwall touched the cheek she had torn with her nails.
“I’ll watch her, sir. It will be a pleasure. I’ve still a score to settle for her father’s treatment of me!” The man smiled nastily at the memory. “She was but a slip of a girl, only fifteen when I came visiting her father on business for you. But even then, she already had the full-bodied figure of a grown woman. We finished our business late in the day, and I was offered a bed for the night. After dinner, the girl and I spoke for many hours and I enjoyed her innocent ways. Refreshing compared to the whores with whom I usually consorted,” he added with a laugh.
“The very next morning I sought out her father to ask if I might court her. Jonathan Cornwall came charging after me like a madman. He threw me out of the house! I never forgot or forgave him.”
“Nothing is to happen to her on the way to England,” James Cornwall warned. “She’s a little rebel. Watch her!” The letter that Captain Zachery was carrying to the Cornwalls in England gave a full description of Kira’s grief over the death of her father and stated also that the young woman was suffering from hallucinations. It said her doctor had ordered her to leave Charleston for her own sanity, and that she was to reside in the country. She was not to be permitted to visit London. The letter closed with the news that all was going well in their plans for this country and that Kira, like her father, was not a loyalist.
Cornwall was well aware that his cousins in England would keep the young woman a virtual prisoner, if for no other reason than their greed for what he had already promised them when England regained control of the Colonies.
Cornwall motioned with his empty glass, Captain Zachery lifted the decanter, then walked over to his employer and replenished the brandy before filling his own glass. Cornwall raised his glass in a toast.
“A swift and safe voyage.”
CHAPTER 18
Kira lay unmoving in her bed, trying to distinguish the sound that had disturbed her sleep. She listened intently, forcing the last effects of laudanum from her mind. Someone was in the room with her. The sound that had wakened her was the closing of her door and the gentle click as the bolt slipped into place.
Although the room was dark, enough moonlight filtered in to allow her to make out the figure of a man as he reached the side of her bed. He stood there for several seconds, but Kira could not see his features. All she knew was that his body was not that of her uncle’s. The weak moonlight that came through the window formed a hazy halo around him, presenting only his shadowed silhouette.
The man bent toward her, and before Kira could call out, his warm lips touched the skin of her forehead. She knew instantly who it was. Kira’s breath caught in her throat as the memory of her dreams leaped vividly into her mind. She sighed and fully opened her eyes to see the handsome face of Sean Rouger staring down at her. Sean bent close again and Kira felt his lips cover her own.
A
turmoil of emotions flooded her mind, but the cries of her heart and her body pushed away all thoughts of denial. Surrendering to her emotions, Kira’s arms went around his body and pulled him to her. Her fingers dug into the taut muscles in his back as her hands pressed him closer. Sean’s hard, flat stomach touched her side and the heat that flared from his loins poured through the bed’s thin covering and spread, like a wildfire, through her body.
Still not a word had been spoken; none was needed. Sean stood and removed the sheet that covered her, and then he lifted her nightdress, uncovering her waiting body.
Kira could see his eyes now as they roamed freely over her trembling form. She heard the quickening of his breath as his eyes fixed on her breasts, her legs, her thighs and then on her face. Kira loved the look that came from his eyes, loved the raw passion and desire she saw in their blue depths.
Kira lifted her arms to him, beckoning him back to her, calling with her slender, smooth body. Sean came willingly into her arms and again his lips covered hers. He kissed her forcefully as he pressed against her. Then swiftly he pulled away from her, quickly and gracefully stripping the clothes from his own body. With a soft smile on his mouth, he came back into her arms.
His smoothly muscled body pressed lightly on her soft flesh. Sean kissed her again, their lips locking together for what seemed an eternity. The fire that consumed Kira built as their kisses grew more demanding.
Kira cried out in protest when Sean pulled his mouth from hers, but the protest died half-formed as Sean’s lips traveled on her skin. Each place his mouth touched burned as though a white hot brand had been pressed there. When his lips reached her breasts, Kira cried out with another low moan as her body arched, and another brand from his lips tore through her body to the very core of her womanhood. His mouth covered every inch of her; the soft, tender skin of her nipples rose up to meet him. His mouth caressed her, kissing, biting gently, and kissing again and again.
Sean’s hands roamed freely along her yielding body, caressing, touching, holding and finding all of her secret places—the places calling out for his hands and mouth. Kira respond in a manner she had only dreamed of before this. Her mind reeled at the newly awakening feelings rushing through her, consuming her with increasing intensity. Sean’s hands moved lower, molding and exploring her flesh. Her desire rose to a fever pitch, giving over to needs she had never before known.
A Whisper Of Destiny Page 16
