Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (279 page)

“Ah, that I do sir,” said Tom. “It was a Death Adder, to be sure. With the small ugly head and whip of a tale.” Electra had not heard of this snake but Tom’s description made her shudder.

The cart lurched forward with Callum driving. Tom and Sean mounted and rode beside them. The horse from the dray was tied to the back of the cart. Electra sat beside William, stroking his hair and speaking softly to him. She cupped her hand to his cheek and felt the heat of his skin burning her palm.

As she watched, his eyes widened in alarm and moved from side to side in agitation. She asked him what was wrong but he seemed unable to form words. His arms and legs were stiff and unmoving by his side.

Beads of perspiration formed on her brow and upper lip, dripping onto her bodice and her breath came in short pants as she tried to rub the stiffness from his arms. “Callum! Something’s wrong, he can’t move and he’s trying to speak but his mouth won’t work,” she yelled to the front of the cart.

Callum crouched at the front, keeping his head low to avoid the driving rain. He called back to her. “Aye, it’ll be the creeping paralysis. With luck it willna’ last too long, but he’ll be worrit all the same.”

Despite her fear, she re-arranged her features to appear calm and unconcerned but she could do nothing to stop the beads of perspiration that ran down her face. His eyes locked on hers as she explained the muscle paralysis was only temporary and would pass. He blinked to indicate he understood. His gaze showed his terror.

Tom had fixed the oilcloth with two strong branches holding it up and over William on one side. Electra huddled into its protection with only part of one leg exposed to the rain. The wind had again increased in ferocity and howled through the trees, branches thrashed wildly like demented hags. At intervals, spectacular forks of lightning lit the dark sky, throwing into relief the piercing rain and the small volleys of missiles as branches snapped under the onslaught. Her initial fear of the vicious storm now transferred to fear for the man she clutched. Her mind, irrational from the night’s madness, half believed that the sheer intensity of her embrace might heal him. Gradually, the forward motion of the cart relaxed her enough to loosen her hold on William. As she watched his inert features, a thought, perverse under the circumstances, came to her. She looked out to make sure Callum was concentrating on driving the cart and the other two were not in earshot. Then she bent to whisper in his ear, knowing he could not hear.

“Despite all evidence to the contrary, you are the only good thing that has happened to me for a very long time, William Radcliffe. So if you go and die on me now, I swear I will never forgive you.”

She tapped his cheek to make sure he showed no sign of listening and continued. “This does not erase the fact that you are the most stubborn, arrogant, pigheaded, and insensitive man I have ever met.” Her hand stroked the side of his face. It felt deathly cold and so still. At least while she spoke, she did not have to think about his deteriorating state. She sighed. “Oh Will, I know you think you’ve been betrayed in love but that doesn’t mean every woman will hurt and betray you.” She stopped and frowned. “And while we are on the delicate subject of love, I must tell you your — er, lovemaking was not at all what I had hoped.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she continued. “My God, Will, it was my first time and I was scared. I needed your gentleness and guidance, not your anger.” She watched him for a reaction, then with a rush of bravado, she continued. “It was quite obvious from your first attempt at bedding me that you know how to selfishly pleasure yourself. However, one wonders if you have the skills to pleasure a woman.” She lowered her voice further. “If you don’t die, I might consider giving you another chance to teach me — ”

The cart lurched to a stop as Sean waved his arms, yelling something incomprehensible to Callum.

She pushed back the cloth. “What is it? What has happened?”

“It’s the river. It be flooded at the crossing and only gettin’ higher,” yelled Sean.

The river had been higher than normal when they first came through but she was unprepared for the sight that met her now. The narrow crossing had doubled in size and massive branches washed past at astonishing speed. As they watched, the voracious water devoured the crumbling banks, diminishing their chances of crossing by the minute.

Electra knew the decision was an impossible one. If they did not cross now, it might be days before the water receded and for William, that would be too late. If they did try to cross now, they might all drown.

The cart tilted as Callum climbed into the back and leaning over William, shook him until his eyes opened.

“Now, lad, we havena’ much time but this is no’ a decision I want to make for ye.” He explained the dangers of crossing and the greater danger of not. He told him to blink once if they should all cross and hopefully save his life. William was to blink twice if he did not want to risk the crossing.

William’s eyes went from Callum’s face to Electra’s and with a pointed look at Callum, blinked firmly twice.

Electra’s eyes widened and she looked at Callum. “He fears the crossing?”

Callum snorted and shook his head. “Aye, that’s what he wants ye to think lass. The truth o’ the fact is he’d rather the risk o’ dyin’ on this side o’ the bank than risk the rest o’ us dyin’ in the river.”

She frowned, making an indignant hiss. “What utter nonsense! Let’s get across this river right now.” Will groaned and kept blinking fiercely. They both ignored him.

“I did give him the right o’ decidin’, lass,” said Callum, still ignoring William’s glare.

“I absolve you of all responsibility and insist you do as I instruct,” said Electra.

Callum grinned. “Och, ye’re a braw lassie, ye are.” He poked his head up and yelled to Sean and Tom. “What do ye think, lads, are ye willin’ to risk the crossing or no’? It willna be easy.”

The two men looked at each other and Tom responded. “There be no question about it, sir. We’d sure be dead if not for Himself.”

“Then let’s get this cart to the other side.”

Everything happened so quickly, it was as if Callum and Tom had already planned the crossing.

They moved the cart as close to the bank as possible and removed the wheels. The men then attached the wheels to two sturdy logs on the riverbank, forming a raft. Despite her protestations, Callum insisted Electra cross the river on one of the horses while he stayed in the cart with William. She suspected he had more faith in the horses than in the cart.

Electra stripped to her shift to lessen the danger of her wet skirts dragging her into the surge. Then armed with coils of rope, one end already tied to the cart, Tom, Sean, and Electra each climbed onto one of the horses and urged their skittish mounts into the foaming river. As the water reached their thighs, they slipped off the backs of the horses to relieve the weight and, clinging to their tails, began the hazardous crossing. She fixed her attention on the mare’s huge muscles moving rhythmically through the water, pulling them both toward land. Her hands were locked by the cold to its tail.

Suddenly there was a desperate scream to her left. Sean’s grip had slipped from his horse and he thrashed desperately against the current. She watched in horror as his head disappeared below the surface only to appear again moments later. Tom, on the grey stallion, had entered the water a few feet downstream from the boy and, seeing his predicament, released one hand and swung his body out, trying to catch Sean as he was swept toward him. Gripped with panic, the boy’s arms flailed wildly, connecting at the last possible moment with Tom’s outstretched hand.

Tom’s horse faltered, unable to drag them both through the powerful torrents. Its legs were pumping madly but its strength was failing and its head and body sunk lower into the water. The horse finally gave in to the greater power of the river but just as its head began to disappear, its hooves connected with the bottom. Scrabbling in a last burst of energy, the valiant animal dragged itself and its two bedraggled riders out of the water.

Moments later, Electra’s horse stumbled out of the water, its sides heaving with the effort. The horse dragged her, still clinging to its tail, face first through the mud packing the banks.

Exhausted as they were, Tom and Sean could not stop to rest. They had to get the cart across. Electra huddled on the bank, wet and shivering, as the men proceeded with the next stage.

Tom had already sighted a tree down river around which to tie the ropes. The horses, using the tree as a pulley, were to drag the cart across the river with Callum ensuring William did not drown in the effort. He hitched the remaining horse to the upstream side of the cart, adding buoyancy and muscle to the exercise, and balanced the other side with his weight. The raft with the wheels was to float behind.

When he received the signal from Tom, Callum pushed the cart down the slippery mud bank, into the river, and jumped in. The current gripped the cart, tipping it precariously then it righted and began to move. As the water began to seep into the tray of the cart, he raised William’s body, propping him against a bedroll.

With the ropes secured to the horses on the far bank, Tom and Sean yelled and harangued them into action. One weary step at a time, the horses moved forward and the cart began its hazardous crossing. Using a large cooking pot, Callum bailed the water, which seeped through the boards. At the same time, he spoke soothingly to the horse to stem its fear. Despite the cold and wet, his body perspired with the exertion and his face was set in grim lines of acceptance. Electra shuddered with dread and looked away.

It was less frightening to focus on the horses pulling onshore, than the cart sinking lower in the water, and the two men sinking with it. Tom needed more speed from the horses and, stripping a thin branch, he whipped the haunches of the three animals, urging them on.

Her eyes were drawn back to the cart on the river. Something was not right. The horse tied to the cart was swinging its head from side to side in agitation. As she watched in horror, it thrashed its forelegs in a frantic bid to escape the restrictions of the cart, endangering itself and the two men. Callum lunged toward the animal as the cart tipped erratically and she saw William’s paralysed body slide from the bedroll that held him upright.

She screamed against the roar of the river and the teaming rain, trying to alert Callum to the water she knew would be rising over William’s face. But he was fighting to keep the cart from overturning and did not hear her desperate calls. Her distraught mind filled with the image of William slowly drowning while he lay paralysed and fully conscious.

Unable to calm the horse, Callum unsheathed his knife and slashed through the bindings holding it to the cart. At its release, that side of the cart rose in the water, threatening to overturn. Callum rolled across to balance the weight, still oblivious to William struggling for air beside him.

In desperation, Electra picked up a stone and hurled it at the cart. By some miracle, the stone hit Callum’s shoulder and as it bounced into the cart, his startled eyes followed it. In a flash, he wrenched William upright, dragged him to the centre, propped him against his shoulder, and bailed frantically. Electra fell to the ground with relief, but knew it was not over.

Once Callum balanced the cart, the only danger was the water, which would be rapidly rising over the floorboards. If the cart was not pulled ashore in minutes, it would all have been for nothing. Her eyes darted back to Tom.

The horses pulling the cart were exhausted and in defiance, the grey locked his legs and refused to move. Tom waved the branch, whipped at his legs and savagely threatened the glue factory, but the stallion remained rooted to the spot.

“Go, lads! Go!” Yelled Callum, waving his fist in the air. “Ye’re nearly there, ye wee gommerels!” There was a barely concealed note of hysteria in his voice, as the river sucked them down.

“Make them move, Tom! Sean?” shrieked Electra.

Sean seemed to give a second’s consideration to the situation and then hurtled toward the stallion, screaming like a banshee. The stallion reared up, bit the mare, and the three horses lunged forward, dragging the cart the final few yards to the bank.

The look of triumph and relief on Callum’s face shattered Electra’s fragile composure and the tears ran down her cheeks. She ran to the cart, her legs trembling with relief.

Callum looked down at his friend and smiled. “Och, they’ve done it, Will. The lads have got this leakin’ mass o’ boards across the river.”

He jumped to the ground and the three men hauled out the raft and propped branches under the vehicle to reconnect the wheels.

“Is he all right? Is he any worse?” she asked anxiously.

“Aye, he’s holdin’ up, lass.” Callum reached into the cart for William’s arms and with the help of the others, lifted him out and laid him gently under a tree. The men returned to finish putting the wheels onto the cart. Electra grabbed the brandy from the cart and walked back to William, squatted on the ground, and tried to dribble it into his unyielding mouth. He tried to indicate something with his eyes. They swivelled toward the men and back to her.

“Of course, the brandy, I didn’t think,” she said, jumping up and squelching through the mud to where Tom stood. She thought she could hear Will grunt indignantly but continued with her mission.

“Here, drink. It will warm you,” said Electra, handing the bottle to Tom.

He hesitated, looking away and when she insisted, gratefully drank, gulping the bracing liquid with his eyes averted. The bottle was handed to Sean and Callum before she returned to where William lay. On impulse, she lifted the bottle to her own lips and took a choking swallow.

When the coughing eased, she felt the warmth of the alcohol spread through her body. It was then she noticed the tree under which they sat. She was sure it was a coolabah tree. The leaves of which, Yaraay had indicated, were very good for snakebite. Reaching up, she scraped a handful of leaves off a branch and went to put them in her pocket. She was confused — there was no pocket. She sucked in her breath and looked down. Of course, she was clothed in nothing but her shift, which was wet through. That would explain why the men had lowered their eyes when she had offered them the brandy. It would also explain William’s frantic grunting and blinking. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now.