Part 34 (1/2)
Sitting on a milking stool, Dane leaned his head back against the doorframe of the stable, his breath hissing through his teeth as Duncan applied a salve to his arm.
”She should be tendin' this,” Duncan muttered 358 tightly as he wrapped the bandage.
Dane glanced to his side. ”I doubt her care would be as tender this night, my friend.” ” 'Twould serve you right, Dane.” Dane looked at the old mariner with a bit of surprise. ”You, seriously believe I should have taken her along?”
Duncan considered the question for a moment. ”Aye, the lady is not like any other female, Dane, She's a true mate and can pull her own.”
”She is my wife. Cannot even you understand that I dare not risk her being harmed?” Duncan chuckled despite the sharp tug he gave the ends of the cloth, and Dane winced, shoving off his hands. ”Sweet Mercy, old man,' Mayhaps suffering her anger would bring me less agony.” Dane flexed his scorched arm.
”I see through your eyes, Dane,” Duncan said, climbing to his feet and looking down at the young captain. ”My Meggie was like your bride, full of vinegar and spice, ready to fight the British face-to-face with her pots and kettles if I'd but allowed it. But she fought in other ways - smuggling information-” Duncan looked away, his eyes misting, the pain of his loss stabbing through his wide chest.” After ten years the mere mention of her name still brought him to his knees. ”I could not stop her in doing what she wanted-nay, needed to do, lad. ”I was a wee bit like trying to stop mornin' from comin'. Yer Tess, G.o.d bless her, has Meggie's heart.” His smile was tender as he looked back at Dane. ”You've lived a dangerous life, lad. Now is not the time to coddle the woman for your own 359.
peace of mind. 'Twill destroy yer love. Me 'n' Meg-gie never had the opportunity to make peace before she was - ” Duncan swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing.
Dane came to his feet, giving the old man's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
”I hear you, Duncan. I swear, I do.”
Duncan turned his back to Dane. ”Go on wit' ye, ye young whip.” He waved. ”She'll be havin* me hide if she knows 'twas me that kept you from her arms.”
Dane pushed away from the wall and strode quickly toward the kitchen door, eager to make amends with Tess. He smelled of smoke and spilled rum and considered was.h.i.+ng and changing before going to her, but the ache to hold her needed appeasing. He took the crooked steps two at a time, thrusting open the door. There was a collective sigh from the men scattered about the kitchen, and their soft thanks to the Lord warmed Dane's heart.
They raised their tankards. ”A successful plan, sir.”
”To Mistress Blackwell,” Aaron bellowed, ”and her finely brewed-what were they, Gaelan?”
”Molotov c.o.c.ktails, I believe, Mr. Finch.”
”She is not here?” Dane asked, scanning the room.
”Nay, sir. She has not shown herself.”
Several expressions showed their concern about this. Dane grabbed a tankard held out for him and washed the burn of smoke from his throat, then thrust the pewter at Aaron as he strode from the kitchen. He climbed the stairs, gesturing in dis- 360.
missal to the guards.
”She ceased asking to be let out hours ago, sir,” Sikes offered. ”Bless her heart, she tried well, though”
Dane nodded curtly, feeling even more rotten at how he'd treated her. Locking her away? G.o.d's teeth, what was he thinking! He waited until the guards were down the stairs before he turned the key and pushed open the door. His gaze darted to the bed. It was mussed, the depression in the pillow telling him she had been there. He frowned, stepping inside and calling her name. His eyes lit on the open window, then to the spot where he'd tossed the black garment, and Dane instantly knew the depth of her hurt. Tess was no longer in the house.
361.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.
Dane moved swiftly around the room, searching her trunks, trying to discover what else she had worn and mayhaps taken with her for protection. Ahh, Tess, what have I done? His shoulders drooped when he ascertained the leather pouch of tools was all she had with her. Leaning his forehead against the bedpost, he cursed his insensitivity and her recklessness, truly understanding how deeply she'd wanted to be with him: enough to risk her life to escape. Escape! He rubbed the back of his neck. Jailing his own wife. Sweet Christ, what mind was he in when he did that?
Duncan was right; his coddling would destroy what they had. He stiffened, looking toward the window. Where in G.o.d's name was she now? he thought with a strike of fear. Surely she'd heard the explosion? Time had well pa.s.sed for her to return. Was she staying away to see that he suffered? I do, my love, I do, he thought, his heart br.i.m.m.i.n.g with guilt. Fool! Tis my fault. I should have realized the 362.
woman would never sit idly and take orders. From anyone.
”Sir?”
Dane didn't move. ”You should have counseled me sooner, Duncan. I am too late. She has fled.”
Duncan's expression fell. ”There is someone here to see you, lad.”
”Send them away or tend the matter yourself.” He waved. ”I've a wife to find.” Dane went to his trunks, retrieving pistol and sword. He primed the weapons and checked the honed edge of the blade. Duncan remained silent, still standing at the door.
”Please, sir, come with me, now.”
Dane looked up at the pleading tone, his features pulling tight. Duncan appeared ready to cry, he thought, his heartbeat escalating. Dane dropped the weapons into the trunk and ran out of the room, leaping down the stairs, his boots thundering on wood floors. He froze in the center of the parlor, his gaze on the wretched-looking man standing at the door, a thin packet in his gnarled hands.
”You be Capt'n Blackwell?” he asked, shuffling from foot to foot.
Dane nodded curtly, his eyes pale jade and narrow.
”This be fer you.” The messenger held out the package. Terror crept up Dane's back, settling heavily on his shoulders as he reached. He turned the parcel over in his hand. There were no markings. Only his eyes s.h.i.+fted to the man. ”Who gave this to you?”
The man shrugged, glancing away. Dane with- 363.
drew a small blade from his boot and slit the ties, peeling back the layers of parchment.
His bellow of rage ricocheted throughout the house, penetrating the rafters, making the men in the building s.h.i.+ver at its power. Gaelan's eyes went wide at the agonized sound, and he quickly set his mug on the table and raced from the kitchen, officers fast on his heels. He halted just inside the parlor. Dane was on his knees in the center of the room, his head thrown back, a paper crumpled tightly in his hand. Gaelan's sight flitted to the filthy man standing near the door, attempting to flee past the burly Sikes.
The captain slowly came to his feet, then with a harsh growl, he lunged.
”Who gave this to you?! Who?!” Dane shouted, hauling the man up off the floor by his s.h.i.+rt front. ”Spill his name before I tear it from your b.l.o.o.d.y throat!” He shook him so hard the man's teeth clicked.
”Ah-ah bloke in red, I swear! Paid me ten s.h.i.+lling to give it te ye. Here-take the coin.” He tried frantically to reach his pockets, seeing his death in those green eyes. Dane slammed the man against the nearest wall, sending a powerful fist into his ribs. The air left his lungs in a sharp grunt, and there was the unmistakable crack of bone.
”Jesus! Tis only a messenger!” Gaelan was there, using all his strength to keep the captain's fist from bludgeoning the man to death. ”For G.o.d's sake, Aaron! Help me! He's mad!” It took no fewer than four men to hold him back.
364.
”Release him, sir,” Gaelan pleaded. ”He is naught but a courier.”
Dane's breath came fast and hard, his eyes green frost with rage as they knifed the henchman. A muscle ticked violently in his jaw. He shrugged his men off like an old coat, then stepped back, letting the small visitor drop to the floor with a hard thunk. Staring at nothing, he slowly raised his trembling hand, unfurling long fingers from around the parchment. Gaelan took it, spreading it open. A familiar odor of gunpowder rose up to meet him.
In the center of the crumpled paper was a swirling lock of black hair, one end thick with coagulated blood. Through the crimson stain smeared on the paper, three words could be seen.
Dane loves Tess.
”Oh Phillip, what have you done?” Elizabeth pulled the dressing gown tightly about her, her eyes on the still body sprawled across the bed.
”Go to your rooms, Lizzie. Tis naught of your concern.” Phillip removed a blade sheathed at his waist, hovering over the woman.
”Phillip! Nay!”