Thorns in Eden and the Everlasting Mountains (30 page)

He
glanced over at Clarke, saw his hands tighten around his musket. He heard
Maldowney suck in a quick breath. A whisper of wind rustled the leaves in
warning. The sun slid behind a cloud. The forest shifted from shadowy daylight
to grim twilight.

His
heart raced and he steeled himself for the battle.

Over
the crest of the hill a warrior stood. He threw his arms into the air with a
blood-curdling cry. His war whoop echoed through the woods. Nash lifted his
musket and took aim.

Five
more warriors poured over the hill and ran toward them. A tomahawk whirled
within inches of Nash’s head, struck a tree behind him. Clarke fired his
musket. Blood spilled out along an Indian’s chest and he fell.

Nash
took aim and fired. The bullet splintered a tree and passed into an Indian’s
heart. He glanced to his left. Maldowney threw himself upon a warrior that
wrestled with Black Hawk. With his great hands, he pulled the man up, squeezed
the knife from his hand, swung him around and shook him like a rag doll.
Bending him like a reed, he then tossed him into the woods. The others turned,
scrambled up the hill and over the top. One turned whose face Nash knew.

LaRoux!

Black
Hawk sheathed his knife. “I did not need help.”

Maldowney
heaved a breath. “Perhaps not, my friend. But you’re welcomed just the same.”

Andrew
Clarke curled up on the ground and moaned. Nash set him up against a tree and looked
at the wound on his arm. “You’ll be alright, Andy. Try not to move.”

 An
aching grew in his mind as he looked at his bleeding friend. A strange desire
to see the warring end surged through his veins like quicksilver. He untied the
scarf around Clarke’s throat and tied it around his arm. Nash looked up at
Maldowney.

“Help
me get him on his horse.”

The
two men held Clarke’s arms over their shoulders and guided him back down the
hill. Clarke’s horse snorted as they helped him mount.

Meteor pranced with
wide eyes until his master’s hand calmed him. Nash noticed the blood on his
hands when he drew the reins over the horse’s head. He walked to a stream
beside the path and washed the blood away.

David’s
shadow fell across the threshold when he opened the door and stepped inside the
sitting room. Rebecah looked over at him. Marriage had changed the man. He
looked healthier, happier, deeply in love with her cousin, overjoyed with the
baby they were going to have. It made her smile, gave her hope that true love
could last.

“Mr.
Deberton has arrived,” he said.

With
a quick turn, Lady Margaret moved from the window to a seat beside Rebecah.

“Has
he news about my husband?”

She
twisted a handkerchief between her hands, her expression drawn and anxious.

“Yes,
and it would be best if I let him tell you, my lady. He’s taking off his coat
and gloves and will be in directly.”

“Perhaps
it will be good news,” Rebecah said to Lady Margaret when she lowered her eyes.
“Anything else, David?”

“Lanley
is at his manor house. Word has it he will only be there one more day.”

Rebecah
bit her lower lip. She hadn’t much time to speak to him on Dorene’s behalf. “I
wonder why he’s leaving.”

“Perhaps
he is bored with the solitude of the country. But there is more news.”

Deberton
appeared in the doorway. David turned. “Ah, here is Edward. I was giving the
ladies the word on Lanley.”

“It’s
the least important thing I’ve to tell.” Deberton drew off his hat and set it
on the side table. He was dressed in drab brown from his waistcoat to his wool
leggings. His hair hung slightly loose from its brown satin ribbon. No doubt,
Rebecah imagined, his untidy appearance was due to the windy day.

Lady
Margaret put her hand in Rebecah’s and leaned forward on the couch. The mere
grip showed how anxious she was to hear the news. Rebecah’s fingers could feel
the rapid pulse on her ladyship’s wrist, and hoped the news would comfort her
somehow. The blockades preventing her from seeing Sir Rodney had grown
unbearable.

Deberton
lowered into the chair across from the ladies. “Be at ease, my lady. Tomorrow you
will see your husband.”  

Lady
Margaret, overjoyed by the news, turned to stifle her tears. 

“His
sentence will be lenient according to the judge. The Court promises to be
merciful.”

“What
might his sentence be, Mr. Deberton?” she asked.

“It’s
hard to say with any real certainty, my lady. He may remain in prison a good
many years. But at least he will live.”

Margaret
Nash could not help but begin to cry. Rebecah drew her in her arms. She thought
of the heartbreak love brings when the ones you’re devoted to suffer. How hard,
how frustrating it is to lack the ability to remove misery. At least Lady
Margaret had her faith to lean upon, and so Rebecah prayed not only for mercy
for Sir Rodney, but for Lady Margaret to bear her burden through the strength
of her Savior.

“Thank
you, Mr. Deberton, for all your efforts.” Rebecah gave him a grateful smile.

“It
does not end here, Miss Rebecah. We will defend him with all our strength.”

Lady
Margaret wiped her eyes. “I do not know how to thank you—and you as well,
David. What my husband did is considered treason by some. Most would not dare
to defend him.”

“The
way I see it, what father would not send support to his son when so far away?
We shall use that as our platform.”

Deberton
stood and lifted his hat from the table. “Miss Rebecah.” She looked up at him.
“I insist you allow me to escort you to Rosewood. David tells me it is urgent
you see Sir Cecil. My carriage is outside.”

Rebecah
looked over at Lady Margaret, worried to leave her.

“Go
on, Rebecah. I shall be fine with David and Lavinia to look after me.”

She
stood and kissed Lady Margaret’s cheek. Then she fetched her cloak and left out
the front door with Mr. Deberton keeping step behind her.

*  *  *

A
meticulous boxwood garden lined the front drive at Rosewood. Rebecah explained
the urgency of this meeting to Mr. Deberton. He explained, “By law, Lanley is
not obligated to the lady. But if he is an honorable person, he will own up to
his actions and do right by her.”

“I
think he is, Mr. Deberton.”

“Well,
that’s yet to be seen. You do realize you are treading in deep waters
confronting a man like Lanley, who you spurned, who is now enriching his career
in politics. A bastard child could ruin it for him.”

“Nevertheless,
I am confident he will hear me out.” Yet she was unsure of his feelings toward
her. Was he bitter and angry still? Uncertainty had to be ignored.

Amber
flames flickered in the streetlamps, spread over the sidewalks and white stone
facades of the manor houses. People were in the street, some hurrying, others
strolling at leisure. A rider steadied his horse as Deberton’s coach passed by.

The
coach slowed and halted. He knew then they had arrived. The moments he shared
with Rebecah were about to be interrupted. He stepped out and held his hand out
to her. Then he guided her onto the sidewalk.

“We
will not be long,” Mr. Deberton said to the driver. “Keep the horses steady,
and do not go off anywhere. I know you’ve a liking for that public house we
passed.”

The
driver shrugged his shoulders with disappointment and eased back in his seat.

Rebecah,
dressed in a lilac-blue gown, looked more beautiful to him than ever before. Her
hair hung free down her back in lengthy waves and curls, and he wished he could
run his fingers through it. Her hat, trimmed in blue ribbon, shadowed her eyes,
and the sight of her cheek caused his heart to grip. He knew she would never
have him. He knew she loved another. Yet, here she was with him, under the
streetlights and climbing moon.

He
drew his eyes away from her, and pulled the bell hanging outside beside the
large oak door.

Rebecah
drew in a breath. “I’ve been calm up until this moment. I worry what Lanley will
say to me after all this time. Do you think he will refuse to see me?”

Mr.
Deberton touched her elbow. “Do not worry. I’ll see to it that doesn’t happen.”

The
door creaked open and a servant appeared. “We wish to see Sir Cecil Lanley,” Mr.
Deberton said, taking the lead. “Is he at home?”

The
well-dressed servant in a white wig and scarlet coat placed his hand on the
door ready to close it. “He is engaged with dinner guests.”

Rebecah
stepped forward. “May we wait, please? It is urgent I speak with him. He and I
are acquainted.”

The
servant looked into her face. His expression told Rebecah he fancied she was
another of Lanley’s ladies. Not wanting to anger his master, he said, “Yes,
madam. You may wait. Who may I say is calling?”

“Tell
him a friend he has not seen in a long while.”

*  *  *

Lanley’s
butler showed them to a sitting room lit with candles. Rebecah looked up at its
high ornate ceiling, remembering how her father hoped this would have been her
house. Unimpressed by its lavish rosewood richness, she was glad it was not
hers. Indications were Lanley had gained the whole world. But his mortal life,
like all men, was fleeting, passing like the chaff in the fields. Here one
moment, gone the next, and the corruptible riches left behind to decay and rust.

The
door closed and she was left alone with Mr. Deberton. Together they listened to
the servant’s self-important footsteps go down a lengthy hallway. Rebecah
removed her gloves and looked over at a portrait of Lanley’s father. He stared at
her with what she thought was anger. A flow-blue vase graced the table where
she laid her hat aside. There were no flowers in the room, no books.

A
moment later, they heard voices. Laughter followed and voices again. By the
sound of Lanley’s footsteps, she could tell he was irritated, having been torn
away from his guests.

There
was no turning back. The servant opened the door for his master and stood aside
for him to enter. There stood Lanley, his head high with one hand poised on his
hip. His hair was powdered, like she had last seen him. His eyes enlarged when
he met her eyes. He glanced but a moment at Deberton.

Who
the devil is he?
The question shown in Lanley’s eyes and did not escape Rebecah.
Lanley had grown older, but none the wiser. A few wrinkles creased near his
eyes and he had put on flesh. He took in a breath and stepped over to her.  She
smiled and held out her hand.

“Please
tell me I am welcomed, Cecil.”

He bent forward and
kissed her hand. “I thought I had forgotten your hands, madam. But here you are
in all your softness and rose scent, your memory rushing upon me like an angry
storm.”  

She
drew her hand out of his. A sincere smile played on her lips. “I hope you’ve
forgiven me for the pain I caused you.”

He
stood straight. “Oh. Well, I have, my dear. But seeing you again, brings back
bittersweet memories.”

“Be
happy I was not a dishonest woman. For if I had been, I would have married you
without loving you and spent all your money.”

This
made him laugh. “You have a point there, Rebecah. We are still friends at
least. But that Nash fellow. How I loathed him.”

She
lowered her eyes. How she missed the only man that meant what he said when he
told her he loved her. It was her fault to have lost him.

“Yes,
I know. But that too is over, as you probably heard.” She returned her gaze. “I’m
glad you are no longer hurt by me, Cecil.”

“Hurt?
Gads, my dear, I’m too much a man for that.” He laughed again.

“What
arrogance,” Deberton said beneath his breath.

“Who
is this gentleman?” Lanley asked with a swift turn. “An uncle perhaps?” The
comment made Deberton set his lips. He bowed just the same to Lanley.

Rebecah
took his arm and moved him forward. “May I present Edward Deberton? He is
David’s partner in the law.”

“I don’t
understand. Why have you come with Rebecah? If it’s a legal matter, I cannot
imagine what. My servant said your business was urgent.”

 “Frankly
it does not concern me, sir. I should take my leave to my coach outside and
wait for Miss Brent. I accompanied her to ensure her safety.”

“Hmm.”
Lanley sucked in his cheeks and sat in a chair.

Deberton
excused himself, put on his hat, and walked out. Lanley looked over at Rebecah.

“You’re
more ravishing than ever. What have you been doing to yourself? How your hair
catches the light.”

She
sat opposite him. “I’m still the same.”

“No,
you’ve changed. I can see it in your eyes.” He leaned forward toward her.

“I’m
at peace. I found redemption.”

“You
found religion?”

She
shook her head. “No, Cecil. I found the faith I needed to carry on—and to
forgive.”

“Have
you come to tell me you’ve changed your mind? If you have, I would take you
back in an instant.” He leaned back into the cushions. “Even though you are too
strong-willed for me.”

“Cecil,
there is no need to flatter.”

“But
it’s true. You’re more beautiful, more enticing…”

Rebecah
wished he would stop complimenting her. “I must talk to you. It’s important. My
visit here is serious.”

“I
promise to listen if you kiss me.”

She
moved away from Lanley and stood in front of the mullioned window. The golden
light fell upon her and edged her hair. Outside the door, a wave of laughter
came from the guests.

Lanley
smoothed the cuffs on his sleeve. “They wait for me. Join us.”

“I’ve
interrupted. Thank you, but I cannot stay.”

“Your
diversion is welcomed, my dear. It has dawned on me you’ve never been inside my
house. Do you like it?”