The Secret Life of Lady Evangeline

by Jan Davis Warren

  The older man could no more resist Evangeline’s plea than Henry had been able to deny her anything she asked of him. His conscience burned at the one time he refused to give her what she wanted. He hadn’t sent Millicent away, and it had cost him everything.

  “We rode by a mean-lookin’ blighter with an eye patch walkin’ into town with a bawlin’ baby in a bag. That your child?”

  “Yes! Please. He has our daughter, Sarah.” Evangeline grabbed the man’s hand, which caused him to harrumph and clear his throat, fighting the emotion that clouded his features at her plea.

  “Here, take Brownie. He’s a strong mount and can easily carry the both of you. Town’s just a few minutes away.” He dismounted and handed Evangeline the reins but continued to eye Henry with distrust. “I’ll see to it your horses are cared for at the livery. Just leave Brownie tied to the post outside the pub. It’s just across the road from the docks.”

  “May the Lord bless you for your kindness.” She gave him a peck on the cheek that caused the man to turn crimson.

  A flash of jealousy caused Henry’s thank-you to sound more like a grumbled curse.

  Henry mounted the horse first then reached down to assist Evangeline.

  “Wait.” She grabbed the bag off her mount, returned and handed it and her sword up to him.

  They linked forearms, and he swung her up behind him. Henry handed her the sword first, which she sheathed at her waist, then gave her the bag. He waited while she settled the long strap at an angle to rest behind her back and placed her hands on Henry’s waist.

  “I’m ready.” She snuggled close enough he could feel the heat from her body pressed against him.

  Eighteen months apart and all the anguish she had caused him, yet she still stirred him like no other woman. Already he felt the heat of need for her course through him.

  He kicked the horse with more vigor than he had intended. The big gelding leapt forward into a bone jarring gallop.

  Evangeline tightened her grip, elevating his torture. He flexed his injured muscles allowing the searing pain to clear his thoughts.

  The man was right. Brownie turned out to be a sturdy steed with a stride that ate up the distance. Henry tried to concentrate on the ride but Evangeline’s nearness caused his thoughts to wander to areas best not explored.

  They rode past the body of a horse lying beside the road. The brigand had ridden the poor beast to death.

  Prayers for Sarah’s safety pushed all other thoughts from his mind.

  Soon they were close enough to the port to smell the salt air. The high-pitched screech of sea birds might have easily been mistaken for a child’s cry. Henry pressed his heels into Brownie’s side for more speed.

  Chapter 17

  Evangeline clung to Henry to keep from slipping from Brownie’s broad back, but also because of a sudden overwhelming need to be close to him. Tears stung her eyes as the memories of their courtship and marriage flooded her thoughts. They’d once had such a close bond of love and mutual respect, which few high-born couples of the realm would ever experience.

  She knew by the way he leaned slightly to the right that the pain from his injuries was dictating his posture. Just as she knew no matter how bad that pain, nothing would stop him from saving Sarah. A sense of pride swelled within her for her husband.

  The shouts of people bargaining for fish meant they had arrived at their destination. Henry slowed Brownie to a walk and stopped him in front of the tavern as the horse’s owner had requested.

  Evangeline slid down. The extra weight of the sword and bag of supplies almost toppled her over in her exhaustion.

  Henry grimaced as he dismounted, his lips pale and pinched, his brow furrowed by pain. He paused for a moment, steadied by a hand on the horse, and straightened to his full height.

  She adjusted the bag so she could reach inside and pulled out two strips of dried beef, handing him one.

  Hearty aromas of roasting meat and ale from the pub enticed the passersby from the opened doors and tortured her with much needed nourishment.

  Her stomach rumbled loudly followed by an equally demanding growl from Henry’s mid-section.

  “Here. We need to eat. There’s no time to stop for a proper meal, but we’ll need our strength for when we find Sarah.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded without making eye contact then took a big bite of the jerky and chewed. “Let me have the sword.”

  She stepped back to refuse but saw only concern in his eyes, not doubt that she could use it. The relief she felt at releasing it to him surprised her. It felt good to let him take charge. Then she knew. God was really in charge, and she could trust Him, too.

  The noise of the crowd that bustled about the busy port on market day made it easy for Evangeline to remain silent. She and Henry walked side by side toward the wharf, where two ships were being loaded with supplies. Weariness kept their pace slow, but the dried beef was already giving her some much needed energy.

  “There!” Henry hurried toward a ship with Spanish markings.

  Evangeline couldn’t see what alarmed him, but she shifted the bag of supplies behind her to free both of her hands, drew her knife, and sprinted after him, afraid she’d lose sight in the throng of people.

  “Sarah!” Henry’s cry sent a rush of fear through Evangeline. There on the gang plank was the brigand handing over their child to an older man in captain’s attire. At Henry’s cry, the brigand turned toward them and drew a knife from his belt.

  As she caught up with Henry, he pointed to the man disappearing down the gangway and handed her the sword.

  “Go. Save our daughter. I’ll take care of this vermin.” He glanced around him and grabbed a long pike with a hook at the end used to snag the ropes of docking ships. It would make a lethal weapon in the hands of a warrior. Henry swept it in front of him to clear the spectators.

  “Cast off!” The captain held the child tightly against his chest, and raced up the gangway toward the deck of the ship yelling orders at his crew. “Repel all boarders!”

  Evangeline swung her sword with precision disabling all in her path and made it aboard. A sailor with arms the size of Christmas hams stepped into her path. He grabbed for her. She sidestepped and smacked him up along the side of his head with the flat of her blade. The strength of the impact staggered her back, and the sailor dropped to the deck unconscious at her feet.

  A growl turned her toward another deckhand charging toward her waving a knife with deadly intent. She barely had time to raise her sword when he ran into it. The look of surprise lit his features before he fell, his life’s blood spilling onto the deck. Using her skill with the sword, she had managed to only wound or disable her opponents up to now. She had not intended to kill anyone, but a flash of regret for his death was all she allowed. She had to save her daughter and would allow no one to stand in her way. A wave of panic washed over her when she swept the deck with her gaze. Where was the captain? She spotted a doorway and two men guarding it.

  “That child is my daughter,” she shouted. “Move out of my way or die.” The fierce tone of a mother’s determination must have shown on her face, for the men stepped aside offering no further resistance and let her pass.

  With a quick glance behind to make sure none pursued, she opened the door and slipped through. She went down a set of stairs into a long mahogany-paneled passageway lined with many doors. Ignoring the overstated opulence of the exotic wood carvings and fine craftsmanship, she paused to listen. A baby’s cry led her to the third door on the right. Locked. She jammed the blade of her sword into the space between the door and the frame and pried. The wood splintered. The door swung open.

  Inside, Sarah lay on a narrow bunk, tightly wrapped in bunting, which pinned her arms to her side and kept her from flailing. Her daughter’s tears tore at Evangeline’s heart. She rushed toward the baby, dropped the sword and drew her knife to free her child from the soiled cloth binding her.

  Slam!

  The door to the
room shut and nails pounded into the frame. She was trapped.

  “Senora, you have done enough damage. You will be my guest as long as you care for the child.” His English was tainted by a thick Spanish accent, but his intent was clear enough. She would live as long as he needed her, not a minute more.

  “You have stolen my child and will pay with your life, Senor.” Evangeline spoke to him in Spanish. “I am Lady Evangeline Stanton. My husband, Lord Henry Stanton, is the king’s cousin. Kidnapping me and my child is an act of war.”

  “You lie!” The guttural cursing that followed was that of an uneducated commoner. That the captain of this ship had wealth meant he was most likely a pirate and not above killing or stealing to get what he wanted. “You do not fight or dress as a lady of the realm. Why should I believe you?”

  Shouts of the crew sounded, then heavy footsteps hurried away from her door. With a loud creak, the ship lurched to one side then righted as the sails unfurled and gathered wind. They were underway.

  God help us.

  Henry pushed through the crowd until he found the murdering thief that stole his daughter. “Stop. You cannot escape.”

  The brigand swung his knife at Henry and tried to back away into the crowd, but they pushed him toward Henry. Once within reach, Henry knocked the brigand to the ground unconscious. He stood over him with enough hatred to run the man through for what he’d done. The crowd that stood apart during the fight now closed in.

  “Get me some rope to tie up this murdering kidnapper.” He straightened and drew a calming breath. Revenge was within his grasp, and yet he had hesitated. The man was guilty as sin. No judge would fault him. Then he knew. The Judge of all mankind was the one he needed to please. He had warned him that vengeance was His.

  “Hey, Your Lordship, the Spanish ship has sailed.” Laughter rang out around him. The man pointed to the escaping ship.

  “I am Lord Henry Stanton. I need a fast sailing ship to go after that vessel.”

  “And what you got for coin, your Lordship?” A weathered-skinned salty smirked from the crowd.

  “I am the king’s cousin and he’ll see that your fee is doubled.” Henry knew his shabby appearance was a hindrance to his claim. “My wife and child have been kidnapped. I need your help…please.” His voice wavered with emotion.

  “No royal says please. You’re a fake.” Many voices rose in agreement.

  “I’ll take ye.” A small man with white hair stepped forward. His face wrinkled and weathered into burnished leather. His eyes were a piercing blue that narrowed as they pinned Henry with a stare, as if he could see past his ragged appearance to the truth. “Come along, laddie, or we’ll miss the tide.”

  A Scotsman. The Scots were sworn enemies to the English realm. Could he trust him? Did he have a choice? No. If he wanted a chance to catch the Spaniard, he needed to pursue now.

  Henry jerked the bound brigand to his feet and shoved him before him, trailing after the captain and wishing he had soldiers to assist him in battle once they reached the Spaniard’s ship.

  “My ship’s the Sea Hawk. As fine a vessel as ever sailed. We’ll catch ’em.” The captain’s pride in his ship was evident in its well-maintained condition.

  The crowd parted so they could move to the docked ship. The captain issued orders that sent his crew scurrying into action. Leaving two men behind to protect the abandoned cargo that waited to be loaded on the dock, the rest of the crew made ready to sail.

  A glimpse toward the full sails of the fast retreating ship suddenly overwhelmed Henry. Where were they headed on this endless ocean? It could be anywhere. He couldn’t get his breath for the panic that threatened him with the thought that he might never see his family again.

  “Please, God, help us all.” Henry’s plea came from deep within him.

  He gave the captive brigand an angry shove up the gangplank, but halted midway as a commotion drew his attention to the street. A miracle.

  A half dozen of the king’s guards galloped into the village and stopped at the dock.

  Energized by the quick answer to prayer, Henry handed his captive over to the nearest sailor with orders to watch him before he hurried down to greet the men on shore.

  “Lord Henry.” The commander of the guards saluted.

  “Commander Garrett.” He slapped his friend on the shoulder. “I’m very glad you’re here.”

  “All aboard!” A crew member shouted down at Henry.

  “Come, my daughter has been kidnapped by a Spanish captain. We must leave posthaste.” Commander Garrett motioned to a man who stood gawking from the doorway of the stable across the street. The stable hand dropped the rake in his hand and hurried over to them.

  “These animals are the property of the King of England. I’m placing them in your care and protection until we return.” Commander Garrett handed the man some coins and promised more when they retrieved the horses.

  As the guards gathered their gear off their mounts, a commotion broke out in the street. Amidst loud cursing, a sailor staggered out of the pub and shoved through the crowd.

  “Wait. What have you done with my ship?” His slurred words were in Spanish. “I’m first mate. They can’t sail without me.” His alarm and drunken condition had him stumbling into the guards before he fell at their feet.

  “It appears as if we have a crew member left behind from the fleeing ship. Bring him.” The commander ordered then turned to Henry. “The man may know where his ship is headed.”

  “Good thinking.” Henry nodded his approval then preceded the men aboard the Sea Hawk. Two of the guards gathered up the wailing seaman and took him aboard.

  Angry crewmembers blocked the Englishmen’s entrance until the ship’s captain issued a harsh command in Gallic that sent them grumbling back to their jobs. Scotsmen and Englishmen confined on the same ship… God, save them all.

  Once the ship was in full sail, Henry explained to the captain and the commander about the events leading up to and including taking the one-eyed brigand prisoner. His brief mention of Evangeline also being aboard the Spaniard’s ship raised the commander’s brow, but he remained silent. Henry would explain to his friend later.

  He made his way to the bow and watched for even a speck of the Spanish ship. With the information from the drunken sailor on the direction the ship was headed, the captain was convinced they could catch them within a few hours if the winds were favorable.

  If not, well, then Henry would follow the Spaniard to the ends of the earth to save his family.

  Chapter 18

  Evangeline found a bucket of water and was able to get little Sarah cleaned with none of the fussing she usually made when her face was wiped. She had examined her daughter from head to toes and found only minor bruises from the rough handling. A prayer of thanksgiving came out with a sob of relief releasing the knot of anger and fear she’d refused to give leave before now.

  Little Sarah rubbed her eyes with chubby fists but managed to drink a cup of the goat milk before she fell fast asleep. Curious. The poor dear must have been exhausted from her mistreatment. She cuddled Sarah until she was satisfied her daughter was fine then laid the sleeping child on the narrow bunk. Placing the babe against the wall, she protected her from rolling off with a folded blanket. Her daughter’s sweet face was puffy and red from all of her crying, but sleep smoothed her features with peace. How could anyone mistreat such a precious child?

  Anger again flamed within her. Though she’d hope to fulfill her vow of revenge, she would be satisfied if Henry had made the brigand pay with his life.

  A shiver of apprehension chilled her body, and she rubbed her arms. She never expected to see Henry again, and certainly never expected to feel the attraction as strong as ever when she wrapped her arms around him during the ride to town.

  She still loved her husband in spite of it all. How could that be?

  God forgives us as we forgive those who trespass against us.

  Husbands, maybe, but did that inclu
de brigands and pirates?

  She stopped her pacing and glanced out of the small glass-and-brass porthole. No pursuing sails. Only a vast ocean which met a billowing bank of darkening clouds low on the horizon.

  The motion of the ship in full sails made it hard to stand. The hull crashed against the waves taking them farther and farther away.

  Where was Henry? She knew he would find them. Peace warmed her like a hug. The weariness she’d ignored until now refused to be denied.

  Evangeline slipped off her shoes and joined her sleeping daughter. She traced Sarah’s soft features with her fingertips. Intense, fierce love of a mother for her child rose from deep within her.

  “God, please keep us safe and bring Henry to us.” She closed her eyes and whispered every prayer she could remember for protection until sleep overtook her.

  Pounding on the door startled her awake. The room was dark. A moment of worry had her examine Sarah, but she could tell by her steady breathing, the babe remained asleep. Strange. The racket should have awakened her. Evangeline slipped from the bunk, then made sure the blanket remained wedged against her child. It should keep her from rolling out onto the hard floor as the ship rose and fell with every ocean swell.

  Groggy from sleep, she padded barefoot toward the door.

  “Shush. The baby is asleep,” she admonished the noise maker.

  “Capitan Fernando wants to speak with you, Senora.”

  “You can tell the captain that I want to return to England immediately.” She made certain her voice held authority.

  “No, Senora. He will not turn around. His wife, Isadora, is very sad after the still birth of her child. Capitan hopes a child will make her happy and she will get well.” The man sighed. “Please, Senora, speak with him.”

  Her stomach growled loudly.

  “He will give you food.”

  “I will speak with him, but I will not leave my sleeping daughter.”