Love's Vengeance (59 page)

“Oh dear.” Bridgett whispered. If it were true, how would this news affect him she wondered fearfully?

***

With the luck of finding a courier for her letter just outside Rouen, rather than a trip all the way to Le Havre, Bridgett arrived home just past nightfall. Georges’ reined the horses to a stop before the Château and Bridgett wearily stepped down and walked up the stairs and entered the front door. Mary was descending from the second story, carrying an armful of laundry and bedding.

“She has been asking for you Bridgett.” Mary said softly, not wishing to disturb the quiet of the household, “She is sleeping now.”

“Did she eat anything?” Bridgett asked with hope, but Mary quickly shook her head, “And she was ill twice today but she did hold the babe for a time and she had a sponge bath—she even insisted on washing her hair. That is something!”

“Yes it is.” Bridgett agreed.

“Come along to the kitchen dear and have a bite to eat. I was just clearing up the dishes and Jacques is having a snack I believe.”

Mary placed the laundry in a wicker basket outside the kitchen door and swung the door open, continuing, “The babe is upstairs with the nurse and will be ready for sleep soon.” She took a seat with a heavy sigh, out of breath from her exertions and Bridgett joined her at the table.

“Bridgett welcome home,” Jacques looked up from his plate, “Where did you head off to so early in the morn this day?” he asked with mild curiosity.

“Yes, can you tell us? Were you successful?” Mary pressed.

“Successful in what?” Jacques inquired with more interest.

Bridgett pondered for a moment whether to disclose what her errand had been about, “I shall tell you two but can I have your word it will go no further? I do not want Desiree to get any hint for I am afraid it will do nothing but compound her anguish.”

Both nodded quickly their agreement.

“I was successful Mary.” She looked to Jacques muddled expression and explained, “My errand Jacques was to take a correspondence meant for Captain Colter—my goal being to find a vessel that was on the way to Bermuda and could see my letter to Somerset and his home. My stroke of luck was more than I could have dreamed, as I found a good friend and confidant of his and he will get word to Stephen with haste. I know that it may be for not—but I wanted to try and at least let him know he has a child and give him the opportunity to come here and behold her.”

“Do you think that was wise Bridgett? What if the man arrives and wants to take the child as his own and away from here?” Jacques asked with concern.

“I don’t fear that in the slightest Jacques, however if our sweet Desiree does not turn herself around soon—I guess I am in hopes that maybe a visit from him, somehow could be her salvation.”

“Well let me fix you a plate now,” Mary offered and with a pat upon Bridgett’s hand, rose to the sideboard to make a plate which included a slice of ham, some freshly baked bread and newly churned butter. As she sat it before Bridgett and took a seat again, talk turned to the night ahead and what else the day had brought for the household.

***

“Well I had best turn in,” Bridgett said as she finished washing her dinner dishes and wiped the table with a damp cloth. I shall go to her if she needs anything in the night. Good night Jacques—Mary, sleep well.”

Bridgett pushed through the door and then climbed wearily up the steps to her room, leaving her door ajar slightly to listen for the call in the night, which came often these sad days, as Desiree’s every dream, became a nightmare, of Stephen and all that had been and would likely be lost to her forever.

***

The house was quiet, all abed when Jacques Monet silently slipped outside and around the manor to the woods, walking in the shadows, not aimlessly but with purpose. The half moon illuminated his way and he soon came upon a camp and two men hunched over a small fire watching the progress of a rabbit cooking upon a spit. They saw him approach and waited on him to join them. They were hulking men, dangerous looking and didn’t seem surprised to see Jacques Monet in their midst.

“
Monsieur
Monet, what brings you to our humble camp?”

“We have had a complication. It seems there may be someone that could be coming and if that is so, you had better be on guard. No one is to get near the Château is that clear? If you see a stranger; I want you to kill first and ask questions later.”

“Are you speaking of the pirates you expect may be on the way?”

“Or Colter, remember, the one I warned you of? He has thwarted my plans at every turn, and he must be stopped. I want him dead. Do you hear me? Dead! If you fail to stop him, we are all the losers. You bring me his head on a platter and you will be rewarded grandly I promise you. An extra purse to the one that brings him down.”

“Don’t you worry about that Monet. You just finish your job and leave us to ours. We have this under control. Not a person comes or goes without our knowing. And they haven’t for months now. We want this finished, we want our fee and we want to be on our way, the sooner the better. We didn’t sign on to you for life you know. We have our own agenda and it doesn’t include living in the woods forever and surviving on rabbit meat or hard tack.”

“Here,” Monet drew a packet from beneath his arm. The man opened it to reveal, bread, butter and a bit of cheese. “The time is nearly come. Another day or two and it will be done. Patience. It will be finished soon.”

“See that it is.”

Monet turned and hurried off toward the manor, leaving the men to enjoy their repast.

Chapter Fifty

Anderson looked down to the dock from the helm, “Good morning Mister Barrows, hope we haven’t put you out?” he called to the last of his men to arrive back from a night of revelry.

“Sorry I’m late Cap—I…”

“I can guess!” Anderson nodded, chuckling to himself as he turned to his first mate, “Cast off Mr. Cooper.”

“Cast off!” Cooper shouted to the crew, “We need to be to Le Havre by noon, so let’s put our backs into it boys!” he ordered as the men started raising the sails and the ship haled away from its berth.

***

It was near noon when the
Dalton
arrived at the port on the mouth of the Seine and started in earnest to take on their cargo bound for the colonies. It was to be a full ship Anderson thought to himself and would be complicated by his stop at Somerset but he had made a promise. It would delay his arrival by weeks but the cargo was mostly dry goods, no livestock and nothing perishable. Anderson watched from the helm as the cargo was brought aboard and lowered below deck to the forward hold. As he glanced down the waterfront, his eyes set on a man striding past and a very fast but very familiar gait.

“Well I don’t believe it!” he whispered under his breath, “Hold there!” he shouted at two of his crew members, as he rushed down the steps from the quarterdeck and across the ship, gesturing them out of his way. His men made way as Anderson jogged to the rail, “Stephen!” he haled, waving his arms to catch his attention.

Stephen saluted in greeting but proceeded along the docks, looking up at his friend, “I don’t have time to talk.” He called back.

“Come aboard! I have something for you!” Anderson returned, “It’s important.”

Stephen stopped, turning back hesitantly. He wanted to be on his way. He had yet to hire a horse and the road to Rouen was long, but he nodded and strode quickly up the plank. “What is it? I must be off.” He barked harshly as he leapt to the deck.

“Well—greetings to you!” Anderson returned dryly, “Come below.” He started off and Stephen fell in stride beside him. “I heard you were jailed.” Anderson remarked.

“For a time.” Stephen grumbled, “What could you possibly have that is of any importance to me? I haven’t time for this foolery.”

Anderson opened his cabin door, hurrying to his desk, “A letter—it’s from Bridgett. I was supposed to deliver it to you at your island. Bridgett said it was very urgent and begged me see it to you with haste. She brought it only yesterday.”

Stephen’s surprise was evident as he accepted the letter and took a seat to read its contents opposite his friend. Anderson watched his face as Stephen smiled softly, then the smile faded and he rubbed wearily across his jaw.

“What is it?” Anderson inquired with concern.

Stephen folded the letter, slipping it into the breast pocket of his suit coat, “It appears as though my final retribution for my stupidity is at hand.” He said hauling himself to his feet and starting for the door.

He turned back to his friend, “Congratulations are in order Markus—for it seems I have become a father. I have a daughter.” He announced with a rye smile, walking out before his friend could say a word, and leaving him staring blankly at the closed door.

***

In spite of the urgency, the trip from Le Havre to Rouen by horseback and through unfamiliar surroundings took the majority of the rest of the daylight hours and into the night. It was necessary to get a fresh horse and directions in Rouen as he went from the beaten path out into the rural countryside surrounding the town. By the time he arrived at the Château it was near the eight o’clock hour the next morn. As he had approached, the lake he rode around to arrive here and the house itself seemed almost familiar to him. From Desiree’s description, he had no doubt that this was her home; just as he imagined it would be.

Being leery of this Monet and wanting no forewarning, for fear the man might threaten Desiree or his child if he felt trapped; he didn’t ride directly to the front drive, instead he dismounted and tied his mount a distance away and headed through the wooded area that skirted the property. It wasn’t far into the dense stand of trees that he began to hear a quiet conversation ahead and could smell a camp fire. He crept closer, taking care with the placement of each footfall to get a better look at the men he could hear speaking softly in English.

“You think today will be the day Jones? When we can get out of this hell hole and back to civilization?”

“Monet said it would be in the next day or two. I am as anxious as you to put France behind me Parks. I didn’t know when we signed on for this job it would be for this span. It damn well better be worth the wait or maybe we will have to take it out of Monet’s hide!” he decided with a chuckle, “You take first shift around the perimeter Parks. We best be on our guard. Monet said we are to be on the look out.”

“Ah…no one has made a play for the place in all this time and I doubt the bloke Colter will be an issue as Monet seems to think he may be.”

“Still, I took the last watch. So be on your way now.” Jones ordered.

As Jones poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot settled among the stones of the fire pit, the other mounted his horse, heading off through the woods opposite from where Stephen crouched.

Stephen waited until the man Parks was out of sight and then looked about him. He found a club sized tree branch and tucked his pistol in the back of his waistband. He needed stealth and as he took up the branch, he moved from the cover of the trees, approaching silently. As he closed in, the man turned catching a movement just as the branch broke over his head and he crumpled to the ground. Stephen quickly dragged the unconscious man into the edge of the woods and returned to the camp, finding a strop of leather and a cloth he went back to bind and gag him.

He had just finished this task when a shout from the man Parks preceded him into camp and he had Stephen’s horse in tow.

“Jones someone is about! Jones!” he hollered skidding to a stop at the campfire and looking about, “Jones!”

The click of a flintlock being cocked in place drew his attention as Stephen came from the woods, “Would you be looking for me?” he inquired coldly as his pistol kept its deadly aim upon the man’s chest, “Step off the horse, slow and easy.” he warned.

The man Parks looked at him without fear.

“Afraid not mate.” He stated and with a quick movement, he released Stephen’s horse, kicking it with a booted foot in the flank, and hanging off the side of his own horse using both as a shield, he hurled in Stephen’s direction and launched himself off his horse and into Stephen’s chest as they both slammed to the ground.

Both dazed by the impact they came to their feet almost in unison. Stephen looked for his pistol, seeing it out of reach and had little time to consider retrieving it as Parks was upon him with a ragged growl catching him in the gut and they fell together in a blur of fists. They were evenly matched in size and strength and the back and forth of blows dealt out found little effect on one or the other.

Parks dove for and retrieved a heavy branch, swinging it out with bravado while Stephen side stepped his advances and took refuge behind a tree. Avoiding the blows easily, he maneuvered and without much expelled energy allowed Parks to waste his with wild abandon, wielding ever after him without result. Until Stephen found pause and an easy hold and grasped the branch, heaving it from his hands and tossing it to the woods. Then catching the man in the paunch, they hit the ground again in earnest until Parks reached behind his back and produced his pistol, pulling it up and cocking it, while the black bore faced Stephen, bringing him to a sudden halt.

“Well mate, looks like I get the prize for bringing your head to Monet on a platter if you are Colter. You are Colter, aren’t you?”

With no options, Stephen took his only chance and hit the ground rolling and scooped up his pistol, coming to his feet and taking a shot just as Parks’ gun discharged.

As the smoke cleared, Stephen saw Parks drop to his knees, a fresh flow of blood streaming from his chest and he fell face first—
dead
, before he hit the ground.

***

Stephen peered through the windows near the front door and saw Bridgett walk across the front hall, moving up a flight of stairs. He tapped lightly upon the glass and Bridgett turned, her mouth dropping open in surprise. Stephen gestured her to be quiet and to come outdoors and she nodded, opening the door softly.