Forgotten Destiny

by Forgotten Destiny (retail) (epub)

  ‘No…’

  ‘Don’t lie to me!’ Theo snarled. ‘You’d be off to the magistrate the first chance you had! You’d spurn me and betray me. You must see – I can’t allow that. No, I can’t allow that.’ And he pushed me roughly back into the room.

  ‘Theo!’ I cried desperately. ‘Be sensible, please! You can’t keep me here for ever!’

  He laughed, the laugh of a madman, and again I wondered how I had failed to see that madness beneath his charming exterior.

  ‘What’s to stop me?’ he asked, smiling – actually smiling! ‘Oh, not for ever, I grant you, but long enough. Long enough for you to be truly mine, long enough for me to do to you all the things I have yearned to do for so long. The things other men have done, and I have been denied…’

  His fingers were stroking my throat, the light of lust burning in his eyes.

  ‘Oh yes, we’ll have such times, you and I! And when I have had my fill of you, well, it won’t be hard to dispose of you. There’s enough dark water out there to drown a hundred men and no one notice, let alone one little girl who was so demented by her husband’s murder that she chose to end her own life. And no one will ever defile you or take you from me ever again…’

  A wash of icy fear ran through me. He would do it, I knew. And the madness would make poetry of it in his deranged mind.

  ‘Theo,’ I begged desperately. ‘Let me go, please! You can have whatever you want – I mean it, truly! For Daniel’s sake, if not for mine, let us go!’

  ‘Ah yes, Daniel!’ Theo looked down at my baby, who was, miraculously, sleeping in my arms. ‘Oh, you need not worry about Daniel, Davina! I will take good care of him, have no fear. He will be my ward. I am, after all, the only relative he has – apart from your grandparents and poor, simple Aunt Linnie, and they are all much too old to take a baby. And everyone will say how kind and selfless I am to take on your child and raise him. Now, why don’t you put him back in his cradle? We don’t want to frighten him, do we? And you and I, my dear, have unfinished business…’

  ‘No!’ I sobbed. My grasp tightened on Daniel; he stirred and opened his eyes, clear blue, unwinking. ‘No, I won’t put him down! I won’t let you have him!’

  ‘Would you rather I threw him into the docks with you?’ Theo snarled. ‘Oh, it’s all right, Davina, don’t look so worried. Of course I would never do such a thing! Not when he is heir to Mr Paterson’s fortune – and my passport to the wealth that is his by right. But it would be best if we don’t fight over him. Lay him down, my dear. That way we shall be sure he will not be hurt. Neither of us want that, do we?’

  ‘Oh dear God!’ I sobbed.

  ‘Lay him down!’ Theo ordered again. ‘I will have him, Davina, one way or the other, make no mistake of that!’

  His tone left me in not the slightest doubt but that he meant what he said, and I realized I had no choice. If he had to tear Daniel screaming from my arms, he would do it. Though my every instinct cried out against it, I knew that the best thing I could do now was to relinquish Daniel gracefully and pray that even now there was some way I could talk myself free and fetch help. At least Daniel was in no immediate danger. He was too valuable to Theo for that.

  Steeling myself, I crossed to the cradle and laid Daniel down. He whimpered a protest and stared up at me reproachfully with those wide blue eyes. My heart filled with love and my eyes with tears. I looked down at him and wondered if ever I would hold him in my arms again. Then Theo’s hand was gripping my arm, pulling me roughly away from the cradle.

  ‘Good! I’m glad you’ve seen sense! Now, what am I to do with you? I’d like to kiss you, my dear, but one thing would lead to another and time is short. I don’t want anyone asking awkward questions, though you did play into my hands wonderfully well, insisting you drove alone to the docks. Just right for the image of a woman demented by grief – though you and I both know grief was the last thing you were feeling.’ He broke off, looking at me curiously. ‘Where did you go, Davina?’

  ‘You think I’d tell you now?’ I shot at him, aware that, if I told him the truth, he might well decide I should die sooner rather than later. As it was, there was always the chance that someone might come looking for me. Though, if I were missing, and later found drowned, my hasty flight from Avonbridge Hall without explanation might well be taken for yet more evidence that I was unhinged for one reason or another.

  ‘I rather think our little liaison will have to wait until another day. You have not yet accepted the situation, I’m afraid,’ Theo said. ‘Until you do, I must put you somewhere secure… Somewhere from where you cannot escape and run off to tell tales.’

  ‘You are quite mad, Theo!’ I cried defiantly. ‘You’ll never get away with this!’

  He yanked me towards him so that his face was just inches from mine.

  ‘We’ll see about that!’ he ground out. ‘And don’t ever, ever call me mad! Do you understand?’

  As I flinched from pain and fear, he twisted my arm behind my back with such violence I thought it would be wrenched from the socket, and pushed me bodily across the room and out the door. I heard Daniel wail and could do nothing about it, for Theo was forcing me down the stairs, jerking me upright each time I stumbled.

  I could not understand where he was taking me – not back on to the quayside, surely? Then, at the foot of the stairs, he turned me back, away from the sliver of daylight, and into a dark, narrow passage, where I found myself face to face with a heavy wooden door. With his free hand, Theo fumbled with the bolts and drew them back. As the door swung open, the fetid smell that rose to meet me made my stomach heave. The river smell – but even worse. The smell of excrement and sweat and fear and, not water, but dank earth. As I gasped, a wave of faintness threatening, Theo forced me forward on to a flight of steep stone steps, leading downward.

  And then his hand was no longer restraining me but was in the small of my back. A sharp push and I lost my balance, falling headlong down the steps. My head cracked against stone, I felt a moment’s sharp pain. And then the blackness closed in as it had done once before.

  * * *

  Consciousness returned through swirling mists of nausea and pain and I lay for a moment, still stunned and unable to move, as if the crashing fall had shocked my entire body into some kind of paralysis. My head throbbed unbearably and something wet and warm was trickling down my face. Tentatively, I raised a hand to touch it; my fingers came away sticky, and I knew it was blood.

  For a moment I could not think where I was, or how I came to be here, and experienced a flash of sheer panic. Oh dear God, not again! Please, please, not again!

  And then, with a rush, it all came back. I was in the cellar beneath Theo’s dockside warehouse. He had incarcerated me here. And he had Daniel!

  I tried to get up then, too quickly, and a fresh wave of dizziness overcame me, forcing me back to the dank stone floor. I tried to breathe deeply, but the fetid cellar air only turned my stomach and I vomited violently. But at least, I realized, I had not broken any bones when I fell. Though my hands burned as if the skin had been scraped from them and the whole of my body felt as if a huge rock had fallen on it, miraculously I seemed otherwise unharmed.

  I tried again to struggle to my feet, and this time did so, leaning my hands against the rock walls of my prison. It was pitch black in the cellar, no chink of light to show me how large it was or even in which direction lay the flight of steps down which I had fallen, for in trying to rise, I had stumbled around and now I was completely disorientated.

  Panic rose in me again. Somehow I fought it down, inching along the walls, trying at least to get my bearings. My fingers encountered a heavy iron ring set into the rock; my slippered toes kicked into a length of chain. It had been used, presumably, to secure the poor slaves and ensure they did not attack the slave master when he came to feed them and select the ones he would take for sale. Under any other circumstances, my heart would have bled for them, cold, afraid, robbed of their freedom and far fr
om their native shores, awaiting their fate in this evil hellhole. But for the moment I could think of nothing but my plight – and my baby in the hands of a man maddened by greed, lust, and ambition.

  At last – at last! – I was back at the steps. I climbed them on all fours, broad ledges cut into the rock, then straightened to run my hands over the wood of the door, seeking a handle. I found it, but as I had feared, it refused to turn beneath my fevered hands. Theo had locked it, of course. He had no intention of letting me escape so easily.

  Trapped! Trapped for ever in the stinking darkness. Powerless to get to my baby son. Once again the panic threatened to overcome me, once again I fought it down.

  I began to hammer on the door and shout for help at the top of my voice, though I had little hope of attracting attention. With all the bustle and noise on the quayside, why should anyone take the slightest notice of a few thuds coming from a merchant’s cellar? And my voice would be lost amongst the shouts of the seamen, the cries of the hawkers. Despair rose in a knot in my throat; I sobbed with it, then renewed my efforts, shouting and banging with all my might.

  And suddenly, miraculously, I heard a scraping sound on the other side of the door – the sound of the bolts being drawn! The door gave under my frenzied thrust and I stumbled and almost fell into blinding daylight and blessed fresh air, gasping and sobbing.

  ‘However did you come to get locked in there?’ a man’s voice was asking.

  ‘He’s got my baby!’ I screamed, and without even stopping to thank my rescuer I ran frantically out on to the quayside.

  At first I could see no sign of Theo and I feared he was long gone. I had no idea how long I had been locked in the cellar and I could not imagine he would delay here. Frantic, with no clear idea of what I was doing, I ran along the quayside and into the narrow street beyond, a street lined on either side with mean dark houses that leaned towards one another across the cobbles. Rough women who plied their trade around the docks stared at me from the doorways, a drunk rolled out of a rum shop and almost collided with me. Somehow I avoided him and ran on. And then, with a sob of almost disbelieving relief, I saw Mr Paterson’s landaulet drawn up at the roadside and Theo, bold as brass, standing beside it and talking to a man who looked like a sailor.

  I picked up my skirts and began to run towards the carriage, screaming Daniel’s name as I went. It was, of course, a stupid thing to do, but I was beside myself, beyond coherent thought.

  Theo looked round and saw me, and fury distorted his handsome features. He turned to the carriage, hastily climbing up and taking the reins.

  ‘Stop!’ I screamed. ‘Stop him!’

  The whip flashed in his hand; the landaulet began to move forward. Desperation lent my feet wings, and before the carriage could gather any speed I was alongside it, still screaming at Theo to stop. Daniel was in his Moses basket on the seat; I could see him but not reach him.

  Theo looked down at me, his face contorted, eyes blazing with madness. He raised his hand, lashing out with the whip – at me. The tip caught my cheek, drawing blood. He lashed out again; this time the whip wrapped itself around my legs, tripping me, and I fell headlong on to the cobbles. And the carriage pulled away, gathering speed.

  Somehow I picked myself up, sobbing with desperation. There was no way I would ever catch up with Theo – and Daniel – now. And then, to my utter astonishment, a figure emerged from one of the mean little houses – a tall figure in immaculate blue livery, skin gleaming like polished jet in the sunlight.

  Thomas! I had never thought to see him again; thought him either long gone or else thrown into gaol. Yet here he was in my moment of need, throwing himself at the horse’s head, catching the bridle! For a terrifying moment I thought he would be dragged along or run down, but the horse knew him well. Instead, the carriage came to a halt.

  ‘Get out of the way, damn you!’ I heard Theo yell, now laying about Thomas with the whip, but Thomas stood his ground, head held high and proud, defying Theo as he had never defied any man since he had been driven in chains on to English soil.

  I do not believe Theo even noticed me running alongside the carriage again; all his awareness was concentrated on Thomas, and this time I had the sense to do nothing to draw attention to myself. Somehow I hoisted myself up on to the step, and only then did Theo become aware of me, turning with a snarl. But too late. I had Daniel out of his Moses basket and safe in my arms, and I was running back along the street with him, running with no clear idea of where I was going, except to get as far away from Theo as I could.

  In a moment Theo leaped down from the landaulet and ran after me. Like me, he must have lost all reason, for if he had stopped to think, he would have known that already it was too late – I was free and I would never, now, allow him any part in the upbringing of my son.

  So I ran and he ran after me, back along the street, around the corner on to the quayside. I risked a glance over my shoulder; he was catching me, of course. He was an athletic man, with longer legs than mine, and unimpeded by skirts. As for me, my legs were weak and shaking, my head throbbing, my breath coming in painful gasps.

  I darted between a group of men mending sails and another rolling a barrel, expecting to feel his hand on my shoulder at any moment. Instead I heard a yell of fury and I turned again – just in time to see the barrel take Theo’s feet from under him, propelling him towards the dock edge. His arms were flailing wildly as he tried to regain his balance, then, with an almighty splash, both the barrel and Theo went over the side into the filthy water, which was running at high tide.

  My first reaction was utter shock – how had such a thing happened? My second, of course, relief. Theo would never catch up with me now. By the time he clambered out of the water, I would be long gone, and Daniel with me.

  Then I heard a terrible scream that stopped me once more in my tracks. In that first startled moment I could not believe it was Theo who had screamed. It was too shrill a sound to have been made by a man; it was more like an animal in terror or pain. And then realization dawned through the fog created by my reeling senses. A great ship was moored close by the very point where Theo had gone into the water; it rocked and washed with the tide, slapping against the quayside with a force that displaced the scummy water and sucked it down again. Theo had been caught between hull and harbour wall!

  Sick horror washed over me in a great cold rush. Whatever he had done, whatever he had planned to do, I could not have wished such a fate on him, or anyone. I stood frozen to the spot, the need for escape gone, paralysed by a terrible fascination, watching as men gathered round the scene and the strange, unreal aura of disaster being witnessed descended upon the docks.

  Thomas appeared at my side as if from nowhere, staring at the ship that must surely have taken Theo’s life. ‘Mrs Paterson…’

  ‘Oh Thomas, Thomas!’ I could find no words to thank him for stopping the carriage, nor indeed for anything. My teeth had begun to chatter, desperation and fear and shock seemed to have robbed me of the power of speech. ‘Oh Thomas – Mr Theo!’

  ‘Come away, ma’am.’ He touched my arm; there was an urgency in his voice. ‘Come away. When they get him out, it won’t be a pretty sight.’

  ‘I have to see,’ I managed haltingly. Even as I spoke, I was not sure what motive drove me to say that, whether I wanted to be sure that Theo truly was no longer a threat to me, or whether it was because, whatever he had done, he was still my kinsman and in some strange way I felt it my duty to witness his fate.

  Somehow the men managed to retrieve Theo from the filthy water. They laid his body on the cobbles, and when no one made any effort to revive him I crept closer, close enough to see that though his eyes were wide open, they saw nothing, and his mouth, still agape from that last terrible scream, would never utter another word. His body was awkwardly crumpled, like that of a roughly discarded rag doll; blood poured from his crushed skull and ran out to mingle with the water that lay in pools on the cobbles.

  ‘He�
��s dead then,’ I said flatly, emotionlessly. ‘Theo is dead.’

  And Thomas replied simply: ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Somehow I tore my eyes away from the sodden and bloody bundle of rags and pulped bones that had been my cousin.

  ‘You escaped the constable and his men, then,’ I said to Thomas.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Then will you drive me to Lady Avonbridge’s house? We’ll all be safe there. Her ladyship’s sympathies are such that she will offer you sanctuary until I can lay before the magistrate the evidence that will establish your innocence.’

  And again he replied with just two words: ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  * * *

  Lady Avonbridge must have been surprised indeed to find me back at her door, this time with Thomas in tow, but, as I had expected, she took us both in. She listened to all I had to say, making no unnecessary interruptions, though her expression grew more and more grim. When I had finished, she turned to Thomas, assuring him he need have no further fear of arrest so long as he remained under her roof. If allegations were made against him, she personally would speak up for him, and no magistrate in the city would dare to go against her.

  Towards me, her manner remained brisk – she had not yet forgiven me, I think, for causing Richard such heartache – but it was tempered now with something as close to kindness as I thought she was capable of showing me.

  ‘I’ll put a room at your disposal, Rowan. Your baby looks as if he’s hungry again. And I’ll have hot water sent up for you to wash – you are in a filthy state, and that cut on your head needs cleaning and dressing.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I had almost forgotten the cut; though my temple was still throbbing, I had grown so used to headaches over the years, they had become almost a way of life for me.