Lady in the Mist (34 page)

She lowered her head to Raleigh’s chest again. The rattling grew fainter under her ear.

Above her, Captain Roscoe cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize he was a redemptioner, marquess’s son or not. I think you need to remove him from my ship, Wilkins. We need to sail.”

“So you do know his name,” Dominick said. “Do you think my knowledge can’t harm you?”

“Who listens to a redemptioner against an upright gentleman like Mr. Wilkins here?” Roscoe’s tone was dry, his face sneering.

“Kendall might have, but not any longer.” Wilkins’s voice held a note of joviality. “And I need to get this servant back to his master. A whipping should teach him he’s not a lord’s son anymore, ha-ha.”

Tabitha’s fingers convulsed around Raleigh’s. She sucked in her breath. She couldn’t stay. She had to go after Dominick, save him, and expose Wilkins for what he was—a traitor to his country, a debaucher of women, indirectly a murderer who completely ignored his victim lying on the cot, his lifeblood dripping out of him.

And Dominick was leaving peacefully, without a fight. A quick glance up told her he submitted to the two men who grabbed his arms and twisted them behind him before they marched him toward the companionway ladder. In fact, he smiled as though he held a delicious secret.

Except pain tightened the corners of his eyes and darkened the irises.

Tabitha touched her lips to Raleigh’s cheek. “I love you, my friend. Go to God in peace. I’ll tell everyone you’re a hero. You helped—” Her throat closed. She started to rise.

His fingers tightened on hers and his lips parted. “Tabbie, don’t go.”

She looked at his once dear and healthy face, now gray and somehow distant. She heard Wilkins and his men departing with Dominick. Her heart felt ripped in two. She might be able to help Dominick. If she stayed, she could give Raleigh comfort in his last minutes.

“Please.” He gasped for breath. “So I know . . . forgiven.”

“You are.” She bent, kissed his brow, then raced up the companionway after Dominick. No one tried to stop her as she raced for the
Marianne
. She needed to sail it alone for only a mile. Surely she could manage that.

36

______

Dominick gritted his teeth against the pain of two burly strangers twisting his arms behind him. He knew it was nothing compared to the pain to come, flesh bared to the night, bared to the bite of the whip.

His stomach rolled. He swallowed and smiled over his clenched teeth. He had Wilkins. He had Roscoe. Wilkins could claim Dominick was running away, but he knew Wilkins was a traitor. Roscoe could sail away, but Dominick knew when he would make contact with his uncle, Admiral Landry, who possessed the power to stop the man. With Tabitha’s help—

Dominick jerked against his restraints as though someone had punched him in the middle. Tabitha was still aboard the
Nemesis
. If Roscoe sailed, she would be captive, unable to return, unable to stop Wilkins.

He’d wanted her to remain quiet until Wilkins condemned himself in front of her too, but not to stay. Not to remain with Raleigh.

How could he ever have thought of leaving her to another man? It was a mistake, just one more in too many. No matter what happened in the next few hours, weeks, years, he wanted Tabitha at his side, his friend and his wife, his lover and the mother to his children. He couldn’t give her up for a renewal of prestige and the possibility of a good position received from his family’s largess. They would survive in this strange new land with God’s guidance and help, with the wits and talents God had given to them, with the community around them.

If Tabitha survived the night.

If he survived the night.

Dominick bowed his head and prayed for Tabitha’s safe return to Seabourne. He thought about praying for release from punishment for a crime he hadn’t committed, but he had disobeyed. He wasn’t back on Kendall’s property by sundown. He deserved the lashing, however ill the prospect made him feel.

“Don’t go puking on the deck,” one of his captors commanded. “We’ll make you clean it up.”

“After you get your whipping.” The other guffawed.

Dominick kept his head bowed, his body relaxed. Talking to these men would get him nowhere. Talking to Wilkins was likely to get him dumped overboard. Dominick would appeal to Kendall. He was a good man, a fair man. He said he would mete out punishment for disobedience and could never garner respect if he didn’t carry through.

But the lash!

Dominick swallowed against the burning at the back of his throat. He had eaten nothing since sometime the day before, or he feared he would have fouled the wooden planks at his feet. His head spun and his heart ached.

“Please bring her back to me,” he murmured to the wind. “I’ll find a way—”

Or perhaps he should let God find a way for them to be together. When Dominick chose to find a way to direct his future, he made amok of it.

“All right then, Lord, I give this up to You.” He spoke a bit louder than he’d intended.

His jailers laughed. “Look, he’s saying his prayers.”

Dominick smiled. He wished for peace. He felt a tension like the inner workings of a clock. He tried to twist around to see if another boat followed, if anyone was bringing Tabitha ashore. His captors held him fast. All he could do was look ahead to the pale line of sand and the glimmer of light from the village a quarter mile beyond.

The fishing boat cruised up the Trowers’ inlet and tied up at their jetty. Wilkins leaped to the dock and strode off toward Seabourne. The rest of the men tied a rope to the one binding Dominick’s wrists behind him, and led him onto the sand and over the dunes. They walked swiftly, too quickly for a man off balance on sand. Twice he landed on his knees. Both times the men laughed and dragged him to his feet again. His shoulders burned by the time they reached the square. A well-lit square filled with people, including Kendall, Letty, Dinah, and Deborah.

He was going to be punished in front of anyone who wanted to watch.

He raised his head and stared Kendall in the eyes. What he read there took his breath away. It wasn’t anger or contempt or, worse, anticipation. It was pain, raw and open.

“I trusted you,” Kendall said. “I gave you freedom I’ve never given a servant after years, let alone months.”

“I wasn’t running away. I’m trying to stop these men from stealing American seamen and selling them—”

“I found him aboard a British frigate,” Wilkins interrupted. “He’d convinced the captain he was the son of a lord and should be helped.”

“A captain you knew by name,” Dominick shot back. “A captain who knew you by name. A captain who had an American aboard.” He returned his attention to Kendall. “Have you talked to Donald Parks?”

“He was abducted.” Kendall looked bewildered, taken aback.

The crowd around them had fallen quiet, watching, listening.

“He got away,” Dominick said. “He—”

“Isn’t with his family.” Wilkins sneered at Dominick. “If the man got free, why isn’t he with his family?”

“So men like you can’t silence him.” Dominick glanced around for the Trower family. Not seeing them, he added, “Like they silenced Raleigh Trower.”

“What happened to Raleigh?” Kendall asked.

A murmuring rose like the wind.

“He’s—”

“Lying.” Wilkins raised his voice. “Trower took his boat out fishing, is all. You can go see for yourselves the
Marianne
is gone. And this redemptioner here”—he flicked a finger against Dominick’s nose—“was trying to run off with Tabitha Eckles. You can testify yourself, Letty Robins, that he and the midwife have been carrying on like the morally corrupt aristocracy this man comes from. Tell them, Letty.”

“It’s true.” Letty’s eyes blazed and a white line shone around her lips. “I told him to steer clear of her, but he insisted he had to see her. He promised me he’d return, but he lied to me. I trusted him, and he lied to me.”

Dominick stared at her. “Letty, I fully intended—”

“Then you expect me to believe that she led you astray?” Letty cried.

“No, no.” Dominick closed his eyes.

“Where is Tabitha?” Kendall asked.

Dominick shook his head. “I don’t know. That is, the last time I saw her, she was kneeling beside Raleigh’s cot.”

And he’d never seen anyone grieve as she had. She might claim she didn’t love Raleigh as a wife loved a husband, but she loved him as a friend.

“I’m afraid they’ll keep her so she can’t verify what I say,” he added.

“Or to ensure your English friends rescue you?” Wilkins jeered. “Mayor Kendall, you can’t believe this man any more than you can believe that incompetent midwife.”

The last two words struck Dominick with understanding. Of course. Wilkins was discrediting Dominick’s character as he had nearly succeeded in discrediting Tabitha’s, to protect himself from Sally Belote’s claim of paternity, from what Tabitha might have worked out from a dying woman’s ramblings. When he failed with Tabitha, Wilkins tried to kill her.

He wouldn’t fail with Dominick—he read it on Kendall’s unhappy face. Everyone knew through Letty and the girls that Kendall had declared he would whip Dominick then send him to the interior part of the state if he disobeyed the curfew again. Without Kendall accepting Dominick’s excuse for why he hadn’t been home by sunset, the punishment would be carried out, or Kendall would be shamed as a man who could be a leader, a mayor, a senator.

“I am telling the truth.” Dominick made one more effort to convince Kendall as he looked the man in the eye.

Kendall turned away and gestured to his groom. The man held a carriage whip. A whip much like the one Dominick’s father had used.

For a moment, the square turned black. He heard nothing. The warm summer wind felt more like a January frost. And the smells were the same—horse manure, damp wool, his own perspiration. Only a lifetime of training kept his back straight, his head high.

“Take him to the fence in front of my house,” Kendall said. “And bind his hands to it.”

“I’m innocent,” Dominick said in as clipped a tone as he could manage. “I do not deserve this punishment.”

He leaned against the gate as the same two men cut the ropes around his wrists and retied him to the top bar of the gate. What he was about to endure was nothing to fear. Like the beating his father had given him, it was only man’s punishment and didn’t matter in the end. Jesus had taken the true punishment for Dominick’s wrongdoing. Man’s punishment meant nothing but temporary pain. Because of Jesus’s pain, Dominick could be free in his heart, whatever his body suffered.

“Remove his coat and shirt,” Wilkins commanded.

Dominick didn’t need to ask how they would manage that with his hands tied. A tug on the back of his neck and sting against his skin, followed by ripping, told of a knife blade parting the fabric. Night air touched his skin.

The crowd gasped. His scars tightened.

“Proof he’s a reprobate,” Wilkins all but crowed. “He’s been whipped before.”

“I am forgiven and innocent in Your eyes, O God,” Dominick whispered to the brick front of Kendall’s house. “I can do nothing, but in You I can do all things.”

“That’s right,” one of his captors from the frigate said with a chuckle, “say your prayers.”

“Fifteen lashes,” Kendall pronounced, then sighed.

Twenty-five fewer than his father had given him.

He tensed, awaiting the first blow. He didn’t look to see who would wield the lash. He didn’t want to, he didn’t need to know.

“One,” someone shouted.

The crowd fell still enough for Dominick to hear the whistle of the whip sailing through the air.

And footfalls clattering across the cobbles.

“No, stop!” Her beloved voice rang across the square.

The crack of the whip rang in his ears. His body jerked. He tasted blood from where he’d bitten down on his lip to keep from crying out.

“Two.” The shout soared through the night.

The whip whooshed.

“Stop!”

Something hurtled against his back. Something—someone—soft and warm and smelling of the sea and roses.

The whip cracked. She cried out and jerked against him.

“Stop!” he shouted.

Others took up the call. But the whip fell again. Tabitha screamed and slid along his body to the ground.

With a roar, Dominick wrenched the bar from the gate and swung around. Wilkins raised his arm. The lash hurtled to its full length.

Hands still bound to the rail, Dominick lunged. The bar and his head struck Wilkins in the middle. Merchant and whip, bondsman and bonds, landed on the cobbles in a tangled heap.

37

______

The gate latch clanged. On her knees before the roses, Tabitha glanced up, heart leaping with hope.

Red hair shimmering despite the overcast day, Letty strode up the flagstone path and waved a folded sheet of vellum under Tabitha’s nose. “I expect you’ve been waiting for this.”

Even over the fragrance of the roses, Tabitha caught a whiff of sandalwood and snatched the letter from Letty’s fingers. It was merely folded with the edges tucked in, not sealed. She yanked it open and read:

My dear, now that my right arm has healed enough to write and my uncle has dropped anchor in Hampton Roads, Kendall is allowing me to see you. His coachman will bring you to Norfolk, and Letty will be your chaperone. Please do not delay.

Your, Dominick

Tabitha stared at the penultimate word. An error or a deliberate statement? No matter. He had written.

She tucked the missive between her stays and chemise.

Letty laughed. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s more comfortable than having him twenty miles away and no one telling me if he’s all right or not.”

“He felt the same way.” Letty touched Tabitha’s left shoulder. “Is that healing all right?”

“All of me is healing all right.” She rose, albeit stiffly. “Though I think part of me will always mourn Raleigh.”

“Even though he was a traitor to our country?” Letty asked.

“He more than paid the price for trying to get his freedom.” Tabitha blinked back tears that still came quickly to her eyes, weakness from a wound that came too close to going septic. “Donald Parks is with his family and a free man because of Raleigh. And we don’t know how many others are free now.”

“Or may get freed, if the politicians can work things out. And speaking of politicians, the mayor and vice admiral and your gentleman are waiting for you. You’d better get some things packed and your clothes changed if we’re to make Norfolk before dark.”

“Of course.” Tabitha dashed into the house, calling for Patience.

In less than an hour, she was seated beside Letty in Kendall’s well-sprung coach. The road between Seabourne and Norfolk proved somewhat better in a carriage than in Tabitha’s wagon, but the hours of travel still took too long. After three days apart, she yearned to see Dominick. Simultaneously, she wished she’d never seated herself upon the luxurious cushions. Lying in bed while someone else tended her wound, then creeping about her garden while her strength returned, she could pretend all would be well with Dominick, that he would stay with her because his uncle never came. Her excuse for him not visiting her was genuine. Afraid his bondsman was permanently injured because he couldn’t move his right arm, the mayor had taken Dominick to Norfolk to a physician. Dislocated, the diagnosis returned. Painful but not ultimately serious. Dominick would be well soon.

“Well enough to return to his duties,” Dinah had reported with a sniff. “He might have exposed Harlan Wilkins for a blaggard and a traitor, but he’s still a redemptioner.”

“He won’t be when his uncle gets here,” Tabitha had responded as a counter to the girl’s condescension.

Now the uncle had arrived and she’d been summoned. No doubt they needed her testimony of what had occurred aboard the
Nemesis
.

“I’m surprised they haven’t gone on to Richmond,” Tabitha said. “Wouldn’t the governor want to know about all of this? Or the Navy, such as it is? Or even President Madison?”

“They’ve sent dispatches to all of them.” Letty pulled needles and yarn from a basket at her feet and began to knit something fluffy and pink. “As soon as the doctor tells Dominick he can travel, I expect they’ll be heading up to Washington City.”

“Before he returns to England?” Tabitha stared out the window as she spoke. A falling mist made the trees look like sentries along the road. “Kendall will sell his indenture, won’t he?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Letty pursed her mouth.

Tabitha smiled. Letty, so loyal to her master, wouldn’t divulge such information to anyone who didn’t need to know. She would be a good cook and even housekeeper for a budding politician.

“So what are you knitting?” Tabitha changed the subject to the mundane.

They discussed the merits of a knitted blanket over a quilt for a baby, and other inconsequential matters. Tabitha fidgeted. The mist made the light too poor for reading. It slowed the coach. A four-hour journey took six. Then the first lights of Norfolk broke through the gloom and she began to fuss with her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear, then pulling it out again to curl against her neck, tilting her hat to the left, then tilting it back to the right. Her blue sprig muslin gown looked too cheerful for a lady mourning the death of a friend, even if that friend had betrayed his country. The men would think her irreverent. The vice admiral would find her dowdy and out of fashion, wholly unsuitable for his nephew.

When Tabitha began to untie and retie the ribbon around the high waist of the gown, Letty tucked her knitting into the basket and grasped Tabitha’s hands. “You’re going to wrinkle it.”

“I look like what I am—a nobody from nowhere, an insignificant—”

“The most respected woman on the eastern shore, Tabitha Eckles. Now, lean forward and hold up your shawl.” Letty smoothed the bow against Tabitha’s back.

She winced.

“I declare that man could have stopped the lash from striking you,” Letty grumbled.

“He certainly could have the second time.” Tabitha recalled the sight of Dominick’s scarred back and shuddered. “How could a father do that to his son?”

“Some people just have anger inside them when others cross them.” Letty leaned forward. “We’re here.”

“It’s a house.” Tabitha had expected an inn.

“It’s the mayor’s house. The Norfolk mayor, that is.”

Tabitha’s heart began to race. Only Letty’s presence stopped her from flinging herself out of the carriage and racing to the door, calling Dominick’s name. Letty, and Tabitha’s desire not to shame him for even being friends with her.

What felt like an hour later but was likely only a quarter of that time, the coach stopped, the door opened, and a servant in crimson livery held up his hand to assist her to the ground. “They’re waitin’ in de parlor, Miss Eckles. But here’s Molly to help you freshen up before you go in.”

“Thank you.” Tabitha spoke in a breathy voice unlike her own.

She needed water to quench her dry throat. She needed a new gown, something of silk and lace from London, though she’d never cared about what she wore in her life. She didn’t even own any jewelry.

Her legs felt like year-old carrots as she climbed the steps to the house and then another flight to a small, brightly furnished bedchamber, where all the necessities for recovering from a long journey awaited her.

“They said as how you were to eat if you’re hungry,” Molly said. “They already dined. The Englishman will sail on the ebb tide, so they couldn’t wait any longer.”

Englishman or Englishmen?
Tabitha couldn’t ask. She couldn’t dream of eating.

“I’ll go straightaway then.”

On legs that now felt about as strong as sea grass, she descended the steps and followed the manservant into the parlor. Part of her mind told her it was full of men. She saw only one. He stood at the hearth, one arm propped on the mantel, his hair shining in the candlelight. He turned as her slippers whispered across the floorboards. Their glances touched, held, locked. Neither moved.

“So this is the brave young lady.” A hearty British voice rang through the room.

Tabitha jumped.

Dominick lowered his arm and turned. “Yes. Tabitha, let me present you to Mayor Bland and Vice Admiral Lord Landry.”

Another lord. Tabitha suppressed a sigh and held out her hand, decided she’d better curtsy instead, and completely forgot where to place her feet so she didn’t lose her balance.

The vice admiral caught her hand between both of his and saved her from toppling over. “You are even lovelier than I was led to believe, my dear.” He smiled, and Tabitha decided Dominick must take after his mother’s side of the family. The smile was the same, the brown eyes as deep and warm. “And I was expecting a great deal.”

“Completely exaggerated, I’m sure.” Tabitha’s cheeks burned. “I—I’m just a village midwife.”

“And quite the bravest female I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting.” The vice admiral led her to a chair. “Fetch her a cup of that tea, Dominick. You’re still a redemptioner as far as I know.” He let out a full-throated laugh.

Tabitha dropped onto the chair, her gaze flashing to Dominick, then Kendall. “Still? But I thought—”

“I’d give up my English butler because he’s a hero?” Kendall shook his head. “It’s all my friends from Richmond and Charlottesville could talk about after they left, I understand. And now he’s even more valuable to me.”

“I see.” Tabitha schooled her face. “The price is too high?”

“No price is too high to free my nephew from bondage,” the vice admiral pronounced. “This man won’t name one.”

“I’m moving to Richmond and want him with me,” Kendall said.

“But Seabourne needs a mayor.” Tabitha leaned forward. “And Dominick deserves his freedom to return to his family unless—” She glanced at Dominick.

He smiled. “Uncle assures me that the rest of my family and most of society has forgiven me, now that word of my father’s treatment’s gotten out. That hasn’t endeared me to him, I’m afraid.”

“His own fault if he’s no longer respected for not putting family first.” Vice Admiral Landry curled his upper lip, then smiled. “All I need is for Kendall here to name the price. We want Dominick home.”

“What do you want, Dominick?” Tabitha asked.

“To go for a walk with you.” He crossed the room and stood behind her chair, his hands on her shoulders. “Ask your questions, gentlemen. We’ve a scant few hours before the tide runs out and the ship leaves for England. We can discuss me later.”

“Yes, yes.” The vice admiral sipped from a glass of ruby-colored liquid, cleared his throat, and began.

Somewhere during answering questions about all her encounters and suspected encounters with Wilkins, including matters to do with the claim of his fatherhood, someone pressed a cup of tea into Tabitha’s hand. Later, a plate of tiny sandwiches appeared in front of her. She consumed all of it without thinking. Her voice grew hoarse and her body limp.

“Just tell me once more,” the vice admiral began.

“No, Uncle, that’s enough.” Dominick broke in. “She needs air.”

Tabitha raised a hand. “I’d like to know what’s going to happen with Wilkins.”

“There’ll be a trial, of course.” Kendall cleared his throat. “Probably in Richmond, since everyone on the cape is too angry to give him a fair hearing.”

“If it goes that far.” Dominick’s eyes gleamed for a moment before he dropped his gaze. “He doesn’t like the jail, I understand, and just might confess.”

“But Dominick can’t testify as a bondsman, and I’m a female,” Tabitha pointed out. “Where are your witnesses?”

“Roscoe will testify.” The admiral compressed his lips into a thin line.

Kendall reddened. “And I understand there’s a paternity matter you can testify on.”

“Hardly proof of treason,” Tabitha said.

“But enough to persuade him he’s perhaps better off in prison than leg-shackled.” Dominick grimaced.

Tabitha shuddered. “I suppose now I know that Mrs. Wilkins wasn’t just rambling the night she died. I think he pushed her. She likely found out about his activities.”

“We think so.” Kendall blinked. “Poor lady. She was a lovely young woman.”

“I tried to save her.” Tabitha’s stomach knotted around the meal she’d consumed. “Can we ensure he pays for the upbringing and welfare of his child before he loses all his assets?”

“With your testimony,” Kendall said, “he’ll lose a paternity suit. I . . . ahem . . . anticipate no difficulty in having the town council reinstate their confidence in your ability as a midwife, my dear.”

“Yes, yes.” The admiral cleared his throat. “If she still wants to practice.”

“She will.” Dominick took Tabitha’s hands in his and lifted Tabitha to her feet. “She’s told you her story three times already without a word changing. Now, Mayor Kendall, Mayor Bland, with your permission . . .”

“Be back by sundown.” Kendall smiled as he spoke.

Dominick laughed and drew Tabitha’s hand through the crook of his elbow, then held her fingers against his forearm. “With this mist, who can say when sundown is?”

“It’s not a nice evening for a walk,” the vice admiral called. “Take her into the dining room. It should still be warm in there.”

Dominick ignored him, and Tabitha willingly followed him into the cool dampness of the misty evening.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To take a walk with you.” Dominick led the way down to the beach. “To talk about our future.”

Tabitha’s heart skipped a beat. “What . . . future?”

“What it holds for us.” He paused at the water’s edge, where the surf made the mist lift and swirl like the gauzy gowns of dancers. “My uncle will pay whatever price Kendall requests to set me free so I can return to England. Once this news reaches the
Navy Gazette
, few people will care about the scandal I caused, except maybe my father. My uncle is afraid, though”—he rested his hands on her shoulders—“that you will be a hindrance to me finding a good position in the government or even a private house.”

“I thought as much.” Tabitha blinked salty mist from her eyes. “But I—”

He touched a finger to her lips. “So I turned him down.”

“You what?” She grasped his lapels. “Dominick, you didn’t.”

“Kendall said if I’ll stay and work the full term of my indenture, he’ll give me permission to marry you right away.” He smiled. “If you’ll have me. Will you give up being a midwife and come to Richmond?”

“I—I—” Her head spun. “I promised Phoebe Lee I’d take her on as an apprentice because I thought I’d never have a daughter.”

“I hope you have daughters.” He touched his lips to hers. “But you don’t have to disappoint Mrs. Lee either. Kendall was teasing you back there. He has no intention of leaving Seabourne now. He’ll even let us live in your house.”