“Where does this road lead?” she asked, looking before and behind her.
“Back,” he stated simply. “You must return, Kira. I need you. I have felt so much better since you’ve been here.” He gazed at her with pleading crystal-gray eyes. “The headaches are almost gone now.”
She frowned. “How does Spanial know you?” she repeated. He pulled his eyes away for a moment and then looked at her again.
“I can’t tell you. Please, ask no more.”
Kira took a breath and then pointed south, to the right of the rising sun. “I go that way.”
“To where?” he asked. “You do not know where this road leads.”
“I know I have to go south. Eventually I’ll find a port.”
“More likely Spanial or another will find you first. You’ll never reach Portsmouth. No,” he continued, his voice hardening, “you’ll return with me. There is no other choice.”
The knife Sean had given her was still in place. She would use it if she had to.
“No, I go south, William.”
Something in William’s stance—-the changing set of his legs and the narrowing of his eyes—alarmed her. His face crumpled, as if a sudden pain enveloped him. He pressed his fists to his forehead, trying to fight off the anguish.
“No!” he screamed to the air. “Not her!” Kira put out her hand to him soothingly and began to walk toward him.
“William?” she began tentatively.
He stared at Kira as if she were a stranger. His eyes were cold, deadly gray holes. His mouth was twisted in a grotesque line.
Staring at him, Kira was frightened.
“You’re like all the rest,” William declared in an icy voice. “You couldn’t like me for myself. You had to run from me. I’m not so ugly, I’m not a little boy,” he cried. “Mother is wrong; I’m big and strong, I’m not ugly…no!” he shouted as Kira began to back away from him. “Don’t run from me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He took three steps toward her. Kira continued to retreat slowly, her hands raised defensively.
“Stay away from me, William.” He stopped dead in his tracks and then began to weep. Large tears rolled down his cheeks.
“You shouldn’t have run away from me last night. I came for you, and you were gone!” He drew his rapier, and the slithering sound of the metal sent icy shivers along her spine. She was without a sword, and Sean’s tiny knife could do nothing against this deadly weapon.
“En guard!” he cried, wildly lunging at her. Only her instinctive recoil helped her survive his first wild attack. He came at her again, faster and more skillfully this time. She held up her empty hands vainly and kept watching his eyes. He had taught her that the eyes of one’s opponent told the next move. Ready when he thrust a second time, and she dodged effectively. From the corner of her eye she spotted a small limb that had fallen from a nearby tree.
At his third attack, Kira rolled away from him in a smooth somersault that landed her upright on her feet a fair distance from him.
“Ha!” he screamed, and he came at her again. Kira ran to the long branch and lifted it. It was heavier than her knife, but it would have to do.
William ignored the branch and sent his arm shooting out toward her chest, but this time Kira was able to defend herself. Using the branch as a rapier, she parried each thrust and as William became more ineffective, Kira’s strength surged. She didn’t understand what had happened to him, but she was thankful that whatever it was had robbed him of much of his skill as a swordsman. His crude lunges were easy to anticipate and repel.
Deciding she had no choice, Kira took the offensive, trying to force her attacker back. When she did, his eyes hardened. He stopped and laughed. Then his hands moved almost too fast for Kira to follow and she felt his blade catch her wrist, numbing it. The branch fell from her grasp.
William lifted his eyes to the sky and opened his mouth in a haunting laugh that echoed through the woods. When he looked at her again, she knew she could not fight him.
She turned, ran, and heard him coming after her, his boots thumping heavily on the dirt road. She concentrated on that one sound only and on her own feet, forcing them on. Both her arms and legs, having been tied too tightly, sent fiery lances shooting through her.
Suddenly, she heard a loud crash and William screamed.
She stopped and turned to see William lying sprawled on the ground. A horse and its rider stood above him, and in the distance, another rider drew near. The sun in her eyes kept her from being able to identify the rider.
“My God, woman, can you never do as you’re told?”
“Sean,” she cried, her whole being flooding with relief. She ran to him. Sean dismounted quickly and caught her in his arms.
They kissed long and deeply as they drew close together, trying to melt into one another. When Sean’s lips covered hers, Kira felt tears begin to pour from her eyes. Her sobs broke their kiss.
Sean held her tightly until she was calm; then he released her and his eyes held hers in a look of such love, she thought she would cry again. For long, eternal seconds they held her in thrall. Then his eyes moved downward, devouring and engulfing each part of her body, caressing her and making her whole. A strangled sound broke their spell.
William was recovering consciousness and Ian stood above him.
“Watch him,” ordered Sean in the deep voice Kira had longed to hear for so many, many weeks.
CHAPTER 28
So ended Kira’s wild, insane nightmare. When William had been subdued and the true story learned, Sean sent Ian back to the Cornwall estate with William in tow. He was babbling strange things about his past, but he was calm and child-like, and totally agreeable to whatever Sean suggested.
Sean made William promise that he would never dispute the story Ian was to tell Stephan Cornwall when he returned. If he did, Sean himself would see to it that William was separated from his mother and locked away for good. Albert Ramsbotham, he knew, would make sure that William was never allowed to leave the estate again and that some sort of help would be found for him.
“What do you wish me to say?” William asked placidly. “For I will tell whatever tale you wish.”
“Fine,” Sean nodded, with a glance at Kira. “The story is, then, that in a blind fit of madness you killed Kira. Naturally, you have no memory of what occurred. Ian will also say that Kira’s body was so badly mutilated, we were forced to bury her in the forest. Will you dispute this?”
William stared at the ground. “I will not.”
“Ian,” Sean continued, “I want you to tell Francine and Lord Albert to meet us in Havant at the small inn on the south edge of town. From there, we’ll meet our ship. And then,” he turned to Kira with a smile, “we’ll be sailing home.”
Home. The word sounded strange in her ears. Of course, Sean was creating the story about her murder so that Stephan would tell her uncle—but even so, the thought unnerved her. As she watched William and Ian ride off slowly, she shivered at the thought of what might have happened. And as if he could read her mind, Sean came to her and wrapped her in his large, powerful arms.
“I’ve seen this before,” he told Kira sadly. “Oftentimes, men recently returned from war become unable to return to the lives they knew before. William’s madness is much the same. His blinding headaches, of which you spoke, seem like those of fighting men who have spent too much time in the midst of heavy cannon fire. You see, my darling, they caused his mind to darken and blot out all good. When he recovered from one of his spells, he remembered little, if anything, of what he had done. Undoubtedly, his mother has long been aware of these fits. Why else would she have kept him and herself hidden from the outside world?”
Kira acknowledged the truth of it, and knew there was nothing she could have done to help him. Still, on the long ride to Havant, holding Sean closely, her body curving into the line of his back, she would never forget William’s friendship. Without him, she might never have acquired the skills or the confidence she ne
eded to attempt her escape.
That first night with Sean in Havant was everything she had been longing for since their parting in Charleston. Now there was time for tremendous passions and the warmth of tender touches. The love that flowed between them made everything else that had happened disappear. This was home to her: the feeling of his hands and fingers as they caressed her body and of his lips and tongue as they kissed every part of her. She cried out in pleasure and love as he entered her for the first time that night and they moved together, locked in an embrace neither could break. His body covered hers, dwarfing her and making her feel secure and safe. Later, when he finally slept, she lay next to him, gazing at him. The early morning light made the silver woven through his black hair glisten. The even rise and fall of his chest as he breathed softly in his sleep mesmerized her.
But it also stirred her passions once again. She felt the fire travel from her breasts to the very depths of her body and soul and she could not resist bending to kiss his rising chest. Her lips traveled across the firm skin of his chest, her teeth nipping at the soft, black hair that covered it. She took his small, hard nipples in her mouth, kissing them softly. She felt him harden and felt the heat radiate from his body. Without thinking, she climbed atop him, then planted herself firmly on him. She rode him, staring into his open midnight blue eyes, accepting the love flowing from them. She bent, slowly kissing him, pulling him deeper into her until they both reached the summit of their excitement and their voices cried out as one with joy. Only then did she fall across his chest, contented and exhausted.
Francine and Albert arrived the next afternoon and, together, they made plans to leave for home. Sean arranged passage from Portsmouth to the Caribbean; from there, they would sail to Annapolis.
“Tell me, Albert,” Sean asked before they left. “How did Spanial, the highwayman, know William?”
“Cornwall told me,” Albert explained, “that when he first moved the family to Farnham, young William escaped once during one of his blind spells, taking a saber with him. He found a young servant girl in the woods and went berserk, killing her in the most awful manner. Dick Spanial happened to be there to witness the attack and had been blackmailing the Cornwalls ever since.”
The next morning, after Albert and Francine had had some time alone for their goodbyes, Kira, Sean and Francine took a carriage to dockside and boarded their ship. As land faded away in the distance, tears sprang to her eyes. They were tears of relief, but they were also tears of remembrance.
On the long voyage to America, Kira learned many things about Sean and Francine and their efforts on their country’s behalf. Finally, Kira knew the real reasons for her father’s death, and that of her cousin Benjamin. These tragedies were part of her life, and she would have to learn to accept them.
No matter how she might wish it, nothing could undo the past.
But she could influence her future, and this she vowed to do. One day, standing at the rail of the great ship, she and Sean made plans to deal with James Cornwall. By the time they reached Charleston, word would have reached him about Kira’s death.
“And that’s all to the good,” Sean told her. “Once you arrive—in the flesh—and we produce the legal papers accusing Cornwall of treason against the country, what more could be necessary? You will regain your land and your possessions instantly.”
“I’m not sure,” Kira murmured, looking out at the wide sea. “James Cornwall is not a man who will surrender easily.”
“Oh, he will,” Sean assured her. “His entire organization will have been destroyed by now. The Englishman in Massachusetts, Tathers, will be in jail before we ever start for Charleston, and everyone else Francine found out about will be taken care of. Cornwall will have no place to go, no friends to assist him.”
Kira was silent, but she still had her doubts.
“I have some business in Washington to attend to,” Sean went on, lovingly stroking her wind-tossed red locks. “But once I have made my report to President Madison, you and I will go to my mother’s house in Virginia for a rest. From there, it’s onto Charleston to put a finish on James Cornwall’s traitorous career.”
The rest of the journey was spent in a blissful state, the nights filled with love, the days with good talk and quiet laughter. Their arrival in Annapolis went smoothly, and Kira stayed with Francine while Sean went on to Washington. Before he’d been gone a day, Kira felt his absence press on her heavily. Francine, ever sensitive to those around her, convinced Kira that they were both in need of entertainment. A shopping spree was certainly in order. The little excursion left the women delighted and exhausted, and also gave them another opportunity to get to know each other better. They felt a genuine closeness now, and Kira knew she had found a sister.
Two days later, with Kira’s new wardrobe loaded on the carriage, they left for Sean’s house in Georgetown. From there, with Sean proceeding them on horseback, they began the two-day trip to Charlottesville. Although Kira protested hotly at being abandoned by her lover once again, Sean only smiled and promised a surprise would be waiting for her at her destination. Even when she assured him that he was the only surprise she desired, he would not relent and rode off in a great hurry. Nothing Kira did during the trip could persuade Francine to divulge Sean’s secret, so she eventually gave up trying and settled back to enjoy the journey.
Kira watched the passage of the trees from her carriage window. The tall evergreens flaunted their green beauty at the dull red and intense orange leaves, which were all that remained on the rest of the trees. On the ground, scattered piles of dead brownish leaves swirled in random patterns, directed by the will of the changing breezes that signaled the end of a long fall.
“Another hour and we’ll be there,” said Francine, breaking into Kira’s reverie.
Kira smiled as she took in the rolling mountains and soft hills surrounding the road.
“It’s the most beautiful part of the country.” Francine sighed as the carriage slowed, taking the turn off the main highway. “Only a few minutes now.”
Kira smiled expectantly. Soon she would be with Sean again, as well as with the two others she had waited so long to see. Her reunion with Ruth and Abraham was something to which she had looked forward since the time Sean had told her, back in England, about their escape.
The carriage turned into a long, rambling curved drive. Linden trees and elms lined the road; they were giants of their species, standing a hundred feet apart. At the end of the tree-lined drive stood the house—the red brick a bright contrast to the brown and green foliage—with its white- trimmed windows and roof. The door, too, was white, with a large glassed transom above it.
There were five chimneys on the roof, and smoke issued from three of them. The house was beautiful, well cared for and stately.
They drew up to the house, and several servants came running out to help the two women down from the carriage. As Kira stood there, surveying the house, a voice calling her name shattered the quiet atmosphere.
Kira turned to see Ruth running to her. The black woman’s face was lit up by a wide smile, and tears streaked down her cheeks. Kira began to run toward her, and they met halfway, pulling each other into an embrace that was reserved for only those people who love each other and have been parted for too long.
“Thank the Lord,” cried Ruth, as she held her former mistress tightly.
CHAPTER 29
“The fighting in West Florida will please the French,” said the white-haired man, as he looked at the gold clock that sat in the alcove above the foot of his day bed. It was one of his finest possessions; he’d designed it himself. Inventions were his passion.
The light of the strong Virginia sun poured through the skylight, making the room look larger than it was. The two had been sitting together since early morning; the older man at the teak desk, Sean on the daybed. Sean had been bringing his father up to date on all that had occurred since he’d left the country. The chief subject of discussion, of course, wa
s Lafitte and the offer Sean had made him. The news was told in the strictest confidence. His father was the only person he would ever tell of his secret doings, and Sean always knew he would never repeat a word of them to anyone.
“At least I taught you how to play backgammon well, didn’t I?” asked his father with one of his rare smiles.
“It was a close game,” admitted Sean with a shake of his head. “He made only one small mistake, which was more of a calculated risk actually.”
“Are you sure he did not lose purposely?” asked the older man. Sean studied his father carefully, seeing his own face many years in the future.
“No, I don’t believe so. The move was a sound one, but the dice were on my side.”
“Good!” declared the white-haired man, as he sat back and removed his wire-rimmed glasses. “Madison will reinstate the Nonintercourse Act then?”
“Against the British only.”
“When?”
“He plans on introducing it immediately,” Sean explained, “but he feels it will be April or May before it is approved.”
“By spring of 1811, with luck, we’ll know what Napoleon has in mind. If not, there’ll be war the following year,” Sean’s father declared.
“At least we’ll have some allies.”
“Yes—now tell me more about these landless Jews,” asked the older man, as he poured himself another sherry.
Sean leaned forward on the day bed. “It’s strange and fascinating. For hundreds of years these people have been persecuted because of their religion, but they’re amazing people, surviving throughout it all due to their perseverance. They’re intelligent, well-bred and honest, in general.”
At this point, there are only a handful who Lafitte says are in need of asylum. History, he told me, has taught his people that there will be many others in the future who will need the opportunities we offer.”
“You think the immigration a good idea?”
A Whisper Of Destiny Page 26
