by Vikki Vaught
“Let me go! The captain’s going to be very mad if you hurt my mama or me. He told me to protect her.” Harry’s voice choked on his tears as they poured from his terror-filled eyes, ripping a hole in Anissa’s pounding heart.
Jerking out a handkerchief, Lord Howard gagged her child. Tears continued to roll down Harry’s flushed cheeks as she watched desperation grab hold of him. Icy waves of terror surged through her while she continued struggling with the man called Frank.
Oh, Lord, how had they found them?
Once Uncle Howard had her son subdued, he grinned at her. “I’m taking young Harry with me. After we get back to England and your solicitor sees your son is safe and healthy, I will tell him how I rescued him from you, his insane mother. Unfortunately, our young marquess will have a tragic accident soon after. It will be so horribly sad. The ton will come to his funeral to comfort me, his distraught uncle. Then I shall finally be the marquess.”
“You will never get away with it,” she cried as she continued to struggle, kicking and twisting trying to break loose of the man holding her. “My husband will find you, and then you will be the one who is dead.”
“Ah, but my dear,” he let out a sardonic laugh, “by the time your husband learns of your death, it will be days before he can come after me. When he arrives in London, your son will be dead, and it will be too late for him to do anything. Besides, who will believe a lowly sea captain, and an American at that, over a peer of the realm?” Letting loose another mocking laugh, he inclined his head. “Farewell, Lady Overton. I so wanted to sample your ripe, womanly body, but unfortunately, I shall have to pass.”
Turning, he carried a thrashing Harry back to his horse, pulled another handkerchief out of his pocket and clamped it around his nose. Held captive by the cruel man’s powerful arms, she could only watch as her son’s small body went limp.
A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind. That evil man had no idea what her husband was capable of. Alex would hunt him down to avenge her…and save Harry!
A cacophony of screams tore from her throat as she watched Lord Howard toss Harry across his saddle, mount up behind him and gallop away.
“No, no! Bring him back! Bring him back!” she screamed, until her voice became hoarse. The man called Frank struck her across the face and threw her on the ground. She struggled as she cursed him, but he was too strong for her. He ripped her gown down to her waist, then bit down on one of her nipples so hard, he punctured her skin. Another deafening scream filled the air.
She pushed against the man’s chest with all the strength she could muster. He pulled back, balled his fist, and threw a punch at her jaw. Stars danced before her eyes and darkness threatened to engulf her. As the brute held her down with one hand, he fumbled with his buttons and released his shaft.
The reality of the vile man’s intentions tore through her muddled brain, still recovering from the impact of his fist. She tried to push him away. Faced with the inevitable, she had to think, to outsmart him. She needed to protect her babe at all costs. If she did not fight him, it would be over soon, and then she could find some way to escape. Going limp, she silently cried as the man grabbed her skirt, yanking it up to her waist. He thrust into her. As he ground his groin against her body, the sharp metal buttons on his trousers dug into her tender skin. She fisted her hands to resist the impulse to pummel his back. A litany played over in her head.
Remain still.
Do not fight.
Do not move.
The man grunted and groaned as he found his release. Between the smell of stale beer and cigars on his breath and the stench of his unwashed body, she gagged. Turning her head to the side, she threw up everything she had in her stomach. Dazed, she remained perfectly still as the man stood and buttoned his trousers.
Looking down at her, he growled, “What a lousy fuck, you bitch. I expected you to fight me off, but instead, you went limp as a ragdoll. Ah well, at least your last moments on this earth were spent with me fuckin’ you.” Then he pulled a pistol from a pocket in his jacket, and pointed it at her. “Say farewell, you frigid little bitch.”
What could have been, but now would never be, flashed across her mind. The budding love she had for Alex that would never grow stronger, the babe that would never know life.
He pulled back the hammer, and she heard the ominous click. Her mind screamed at her to move, to do something, but fright had a tight hold on her battered body. She could not move.
This could not be happening.
Images of her kidnapped son tore through her mind. Alex would not fail her. He would find this horrid man who had raped her and the devilish Lord Howard even if her husband had to move heaven and earth. Alex would know what she would want him to do.
As if in slow motion, she watched as his finger pulled the trigger.
Reflexively, she pulled up her legs close to her belly to protect the precious life growing inside her.
Her body rolled as the bullet tore into her.
Alex, my love, save my son.
Anissa’s world went black.
* * * *
In the kitchen at Meadow Grove, Lucy glanced at the clock and noticed the time. Miz Hawks never stayed out this late. She shivered as pinpricks ran down her spine. Her hands shook as she put the pot of green beans on the table. Something had to be wrong. She could feel it in her bones.
Going outside to the stable, she called to her husband, “Alfred, come on over heah. I’m worried. Miz Hawks ain’t come back yet. She should o’ been heah at least an hour ago. We need t’ go look for her. Maybe somethin’ happened t’ her or Harry. I know they planned on goin’ t’ Harrison’s pond. Hook up th’ wagon, let’s go find her.”
“Whatever ya say, Lucy. I’ll be right back.” When Alfred brought the wagon around, Lucy climbed in and they headed for the pond. It was a mile away, but the closer they got, the more nervous she became. She had a bad feeling nagging at her gut.
Looking out ahead, Lucy saw Miz Hawks’ horse and the boy’s pony tied to a tree. She looked around, but did not see anything. Then she saw a lump on the ground nearby. As they drew closer, she could see her kind lady’s blonde hair tumbled and hanging over her face. She lay flat on her back, unmoving.
Oh, Lord, please let her mistress be all right.
“Alfred,” she bellowed, “theah she be. Stop da wagon!” Lucy barely gave the wagon a chance to stop before she climbed down. She was a stout woman, and by the time she reached her mistress, her breath came out in great gasps. What she saw sent waves of terror down her back. Miz Hawks’ bosom lay bare for God and man to see. Her skirts were twisted up around her waist, but worse of all, blood pumped from the bullet hole in her right breast. She dropped down beside her and touched her neck. At first, she did not feel anything, but then a slight flicker, a pulse. A weak one, but at least she was not dead yet.
With shaking hands, she yanked up her skirts and ripped a strip off the bottom hem. She took her handkerchief and pressed it over the bullet wound and wrapped the strip of petticoat around her employer’s slim form, then tied it on the side. Taking the shawl she had with her, she covered Miz Hawks and pulled down her gown, not wanting Alfred to know what had happened to her dear, sweet lady.
Once she finished, she called out, “Alfred. She’s been shot. We got t’ get her t’ Doc Murphy. Harry’s missing, too. Something musta happened cuz that boy would never leave his mama. Hurry.”
Her husband rushed over. Alfred, not a young man by any means and as stout as she, struggled. Nonetheless, with her help, they managed to pick up their employer. Staggering, they carried her to the wagon and managed to get her in the back bed. They were both out of breath and sweating by the time they got Miz Hawks in the wagon. She crawled in with her sweet mistress, while her husband tied the horses to the rear, and then climbed up and headed for the doctor’s house. She put pressure on the makeshift bandage, trying to stop the bleeding.
Alfred drove the team as fast as possible, and they f
inally reached Doc Murphy’s house. “Go get the doc. I pray he’s home.” He lumbered out of the wagon, ran to the door, and pounded hard.
The door opened and the doctor glared at her husband. “What in God’s name has gotten into you, Alfred? Why the hell are you beatin’ down my door?”
“Ya got t’ come fast. Miz Hawks is in th’ back o’ th’ wagon and she’s been shot,” Alfred explained.
The doctor took off running. He jumped into the wagon. Kneeling down beside her employer, he touched her neck. “I found a pulse. We need to get her inside, so I can examine her. Help me, Alfred.”
Once the doctor had Miz Hawks out of the wagon, he carried her into his surgery and lay her on the table. Lucy followed closely behind him, then turned to her husband. “Alfred, why don’ ya go back t’ th’ pond and search fer dat boy while I tell Doc what’s wrong.” After her husband ambled out of the room, she looked up at the doctor. “Doc, she’s goin’ t’ have a baby. She weren’t jus’ shot. Whoever done this raped her too. I thought ya better know ‘bout the babe and all.”
Doc Murphy looked at her. “Let’s take care of the bullet wound first. We’ll worry about the rest later. Do you have a strong stomach? If you do, I can use your help.”
“O’ course, Doc, whatever ya need,” she replied.
She watched as the doctor rolled Miz Hawks on her side, looking for an exit wound. “Hmm, the bullet’s still in her. I’m going to have to dig it out. A pot of water is boiling on the stove. Go get it for me. Oh, and bring me the stack of clean towels on the table.”
Lucy ran to the kitchen, grabbed the pot off the stove and the towels off the table and rushed back to the surgery. “I got what ya asked fer, Doc. Where do ya want me t’ put ’em?”
Doc pointed toward the table. “Put the pot over there and lay the towels beside the water. I need to wash before I start trying to dig the bullet out. Not sure why, but since I started doing this, my patients seem to heal faster. I want you to wash up to your elbows real good.”
After the doctor washed up, she did the same. She watched him lay out his surgical instruments on the small table, and then moved over beside it. The doctor named all the tools. “Now I’m going to need you to hand them to me when I ask for them, all right?”
“Jus’ let me knows what ya needs, Doc.” The doctor pointed at the small blade, and Lucy picked it up and handed it to him. The doctor cut into Miz Hawks’ chest where the bullet hole was. She moaned and jerked a bit, then fell still.
“Lucy, hand me the tweezers,” the doctor barked.
She handed them to the doctor and watched as he probed the wound. Her stomach rolled a bit, but she refused to give in to it. Her mistress screamed. Her eyes opened, but then they rolled back in her head and her eyes closed again.
Doc Murphy glanced at her. “I know it’s hard to listen to, but it’s a good sign she felt the pain.” After a few minutes, he grunted, “Got it,” and then he pulled out the bullet and dropped it in the pan on the table. “Thread that needle and hand it to me.”
She quickly did as the doctor asked and watched as he took neat little stitches to close the hole in her sweet lady’s chest. Her mistress twitched a bit and moaned, but she did not wake up. Lucy continued to pray as she had been doing the entire time the doctor worked on Miz Hawks. The captain would be devastated if she were to die. She prayed for Harry and the babe as well.
Turning to her, Doc Murphy said, “I’m going to check her to see if there’s any damage from the rape.” She nodded, fighting back the tears. Rape, a woman’s worst nightmare. She prayed Miz Hawks would be strong enough to deal with it—if she survived. Knowing the captain well, she believed he would not hold his wife at fault.
After the doctor finished examining her mistress, he looked over at her. “She’s definitely been raped, but she isn’t bleeding, so that’s promising. If she doesn’t lose the baby from the trauma and she regains consciousness soon, she should recover. The worst injury, besides the bullet wound, is where the bast—pardon my language, Lucy—bit her. I’ve cleaned it and I’m hopeful it won’t get infected, but deep bites can turn nasty.”
“Thank ya, Doc. Can we take her home?”
The doctor shook his head. “I want to keep her here tonight, so I can watch her. Once she wakes up, I think it will be safe to move her. Do you know how to contact her husband? I’m sure he will want to know right away.”
“Doc, I can’t write real good,” she explained. “Could ya write ’im and tell ’im what’s happen? Ya heard me tell Alfred t’ go search fer her little boy. He weren’t nowhere around when we found his mama. Her boy would never o’ left her side, unless he had no choice. I don’t know th’ whole story, but I heard enough t’ know somebody was after ’em.”
Doc Murphy looked over at her. “Oh, Lord, this poor woman. With all this, if she keeps this child it will be a miracle. I’ll write the letter, and I’ll see that it gets sent first thing in the mornin’.
With tears in her eyes, Lucy asked, “Doc, if it’s all right with ya, I’d like t’ stay wit’ her. She’s goin’ t’ need me when she wakes up.”
“Of course, Lucy,” Doc Murphy nodded and then continued, “I agree. I’ll move her to a room I keep for my patients needing to stay overnight. I’ll show you there now.”
After the doctor had Miz Hawks settled, Lucy sat by her kind lady’s bed, praying that the poor young woman would recover from this terrible ordeal.
Alfred returned an hour later, but even though he looked around the pond and back at Meadow Grove, he did not find any sign of Harry. He did find the hoofmarks of at least two other horses.
Chapter Nineteen
August 1802
Alex missed his wife with a desperation that stole his breath. Images of Anissa plagued his mind and tortured his dreams. He did not know what was causing his disquiet, but whatever it was told him something was amiss. By Wednesday, an ominous feeling crept over him, and he couldn’t get Anissa out of his mind. Anxiety stabbed at his belly. Something menacing threatened either her or Harry. All during the afternoon, he tried to push these feelings away, but waves of the deepest and darkest fear rolled through his body, chilling him to the bone, even though it had turned out to be one of the hottest days of the summer.
In the wee hours of the night, Alex awoke with Anissa’s screams filling his mind. He could stand it no longer. He had to go to her. Getting up, he threw on his clothes, not even taking time to shave. He rushed down to his study. Grabbing a piece of foolscap, he wrote his mother a curt note telling her he needed to go to Alexandria.
Dashing out to the barn, he saddled Blazer, and hit the open road at a full gallop. A half-moon and a star-filled sky guided his path. As much as he hated to stop, after several hours, he pulled off to water Blazer and let the horse catch his wind. While he waited for his mount to recover his strength, terrible images flashed through his mind. Visions of Anissa lying in a pool of blood tore through his mind.
Icy shards of fear gripped his belly. Continuing to pace back and forth while Blazer rested, he cried out his frustration, “Oh, God, please let her be all right. I beseech thee to keep her safe.”
Finally, his horse had recovered enough to continue, and he hit the open road again. He continued to pray as he raced along. By the time dawn broke, he was well more than halfway there. Fearing his faithful mount could stumble if he pushed him harder, he slowed his pace. When he made it to the edge of Alexandria, Blazer’s labored breathing and sweaty coat left him no choice, he dismounted and walked him the rest of the way to the house. Running up the steps, he flung open the door, screaming Anissa’s name. Tearing through the house, he searched every room, but neither Anissa nor Harry were there, only eerie silence, strengthening his feeling of doom.
Hitting the back door at a run, he burst through it and ran to the Allens’ cottage. He pounded on the door, but no one answered.
Oh, God, where is everybody?
Checking the stable, he found Buttercup and Sir Lancel
ot in their stalls, peacefully munching hay. He heard the sound of footsteps outside. Hoping he would see Anissa, he ran out of the stable and found Alfred walking toward him. He ran toward him and grabbed him. “Where’s my wife?”
“Thank God you’ve arrived. How’d ya get Doc’s message so quick?” Alfred asked.
Cold fear raced through his veins. All his instincts screamed in his head. His stomach clenched and a lump formed in his throat, making it hard to talk. “I didn’t receive any message. Is Anissa sick, or is something wrong with Harry? Tell me where they are!”
The old man moved toward the front of the house as he replied, “Cap’n, I’ll takes ya t’ her, right now. She’s at Doc’s house. My wife’s with her.”
Oh no, had Anissa lost the babe?
Not waiting for the caretaker, he took off at a run to Doc Murphy’s house. By the time he made it to the door, his breathing came out in great gasps. A catch in his side had him placing his hands on his knees and bending at his waist to ease it. He shook all over, but he ignored the pain. He rose up and pounded on the door.
The door flew open. The doctor grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. “Thank God you’ve arrived. Follow me. I’ll take you to your wife.” Doc Murphy led him down the hall, then stopped at a closed door and looked over his shoulder and said, “Don’t be shocked, but your wife has a swollen jaw and bruising on her face.”
Pushing it open, the doctor stepped back to allow him to enter first. His wife lay on the bed, her face ashen and her eyes closed. His stomach rolled when he saw the injuries to her face. “What happened to her? Will she be all right?” His heart clogged his throat as he waited for the doctor to reply.
Keeping his voice down, Doc Murphy said, “I can’t predict the outcome yet. It’s in God’s hands now. Your wife’s been shot and—that’s not all—some bastard raped her.”
