Enchantress (23 page)

Brittany had not meant to fall asleep, but her eyes were heavy, and she soon dozed off.

When the clock struck twelve, she awoke and looked about her in confusion. Why was she lying on the couch in the parlor?

She sat up, stretching her tired muscles. Suddenly she remembered that Achmed was missing and Thorn had gone out searching for him. She jumped to her feet and raced to the window. The lanterns on the front porch swayed in the wind and it had begun to rain.

She searched the driveway and the road beyond, hoping at any moment to see Thorn returning with Achmed.

She stood there, keeping her vigil until the clock struck one. Time seemed to crawl. Several carriages passed, but none of them pulled beneath the iron gates of Stonehouse.

Too weary to stand, she sank down on the window seat and pressed her forehead to the window.

At last she saw the buggy pull into the driveway. Racing outside, she waited on the porch for Thorn. When he leapt to the ground, his solemn expression told her that he had not yet found Achmed.

Thorn climbed the steps and took Brittany’s hand in his. “I will search again tomorrow.”

Her eyes looked down the roadway, as if she expected Achmed to appear at any moment.

“Where can he be?” she cried.

“I don’t know, Brittany, but several crew members from
the
Victorious
are still searching for him. I am confident they will find him.”

“I wish I could do something.”

He led her inside before he took her in his arms. “Waiting is the hardest part, Brittany. I would stay with you if I could, but my father is gravely ill, and I have to get back to Stoddard Hill. I will return to you as soon as I am able.”

“Oh, Thorn, I am so sorry. Here you are worried about your father, and I place an added burden on you.”

His arms tightened about her, and he just held her close for a moment, needing her sweetness to chase the unpleasantness away. “I have some thinking to do about you, Brittany. You cannot stay here alone. We do not want the gossips to make something ugly out of an innocent situation.”

She glanced up at his face and saw the weariness etched there. “I will do whatever you think necessary, Thorn. It always seems I am pulling you into my predicaments.” She gently touched his cheek. “Now that you have troubles, I wish I could help you.”

He raised her hand and kissed it, then realeased it and stepped away. “I may ask something of you tomorrow.”

Her eyes were filled with sadness. “Ask what you will of me, and I will do it, Thorn.”

“Don’t be too hasty,” he said teasingly. “You should never obligate yourself until you know what you are committing to, Brittany.”

“Thorn?”

“Yes.”

“I will pray for your father tonight when I pray for Achmed.”

He studied her for a long moment, thinking anyone who looked as angelic as she did must have a deep faith in God.

“I never thought to ask what religion you practice, Brittany.”

“Mama told me that my father was a Quaker, but she was raised in the Church of England, and that is also my faith.
Although Simijin was not of our faith, he allowed my mother to have a chapel in the palace.”

“Yes,” he said, looking at the halo of light adorning her golden head, “say a prayer for my father. He has not had an easy life of late.”

“I shall,” she assured him.

“Now go to bed and get some rest,” he told her. “Everything is being done to find Achmed.”

She watched him leave, feeling strangely alone. Moving to the window, she stood there for a long time. She wondered what Thorn wanted to ask of her. Again she had felt in him a great sadness, and it made her sad.

She moved down the hallway and up the stairs. When she reached her room, she dropped to her knees and said a prayer for Thorn, Achmed, and Thorn’s father.

Long after her prayer, she remained on her knees, listening to the rain peppering against the windowpane and hoping that wherever he was, Achmed had found shelter from the storm.

Finally, she climbed on the bed and lay down fully clothed. She would not sleep tonight, for her mind was too troubled.

Now she was all alone. What would she do without her faithful Achmed? She thought of Thorn, and how alone he must feel at this time.

Thorn kept the morning vigil beside his father’s bed. At times his father would rouse and call out for Thorn’s mother, but mostly he drifted in and out of a restless sleep.

Thorn had been told by Livia that Dr. Cross had been with his father earlier, but the doctor had told her nothing of his father’s condition.

When the sun came up, Thorn stood up and flexed his stiff muscles. He blew out the lamp on the side table, and dark shadows clung to the corners of the room. Thorn walked to the bell pull and gave it a tug.

Moments later, Livia appeared at the door.

“Livia, I have to go out for a time, but I want you to sit with my father until I return. Is that understood?”

“Yes’er, Master Thorn. But what if the mistress tells me to do something else? She don’t like me hanging around. She’ll beat me for sure if I don’t do what I’m told.”

Thorn’s eyes hardened. “My stepmother will not ever beat you again, Livia, you have my word on that. And no matter what she says to the contrary, you are to remain with my father. Also, tell the upstairs maid to have a chamber prepared for me. I will be staying at Stoddard Hill.”

“Yes’er, Master Thorn.” Her eyes brightened with triumph, and she nodded eagerly. None of the slaves liked the mistress because she was cruel and vindictive. Now that the young master had come home, they were all encouraged that there would be a change for the better.

“I am leaving my man, Cappy, downstairs. If my father’s condition worsens, tell him, and he will know where to find me.”

Again she nodded. “I will, Master Thorn.”

When Thorn stepped out into the hall, he found Wilhelmina waiting for him. “I was about to look in on Benjamin. Did he pass a restful night?”

“I would not disturb him just now, if I were you.” He blocked her path. “He’s sleeping.”

Her eyes seemed to spit fire, for she could feel her authority slipping away. Why did Thorn have to return just when she was about to gain control of Stoddard Hill?

“Ben is my husband, and you have no right to keep me from him,” she said, pushing against him, but he did not allow her access to the room.

“You should have remembered that you were his wife last night when he needed someone to be with him. When I arrived, he was calling out for a drink of water. Now he has Livia to see to his needs.”

“Are you implying that I’m neglecting my husband?”

He took in a long, disgusted breath. “I am not implying
anything. Only
you
can be accountable for the kind of wife you are.”

She wet her lips, her eyes running over the breadth of his shoulders. “Accountable to whom?”

His eyes probed hers. “Accountable to me, damn you! I know what kind of woman you are, but make no mistake about it, I will not stand by and watch you destroy my father.”

She shrugged. “Your father is a dying man. He has not cared for me since the night you went away. All he talks about is that mother of yours.”

Thorn bit back his anger. “I will be back later. I do not want anyone in my father’s room but the doctor, Livia, and Cappy.” He scowled at her. “You stay away from him, is that understood? And another thing, if I ever hear of you striking Livia or any of the other slaves, you will regret it.”

She wanted to lash out at him, but the look he gave her made her reconsider. She moved aside, allowing him to brush past her. What right did he have to keep her from her own husband? And it was no concern of his if she punished a slave.

But she dared not disobey him. Thorn Stoddard was not a man to trifle with. She feared him, and she desired him, but she would find a way to pull him down. She caused him to leave Stoddard Hill once; she would see him leave again.

Wilhelmina slipped into her bedroom and glanced at the naked man lounging on her bed. “He’s gone for the day. If you are going to do something, it had better be soon,” she told him. “I want that old man out of my life.”

Dr. George Cross patted the mattress and motioned for her to join him in bed. “And the son?” he asked. “What about him?”

She shook her head, indicating she did not want to lay with him. “I will deal with the son,” she said offhandedly.

He reached out, took her hand, and with a tug, pulled her down beside him. His long fingers trailed across her breast, and he pulled the lace aside and swirled his tongue around the nipple. “You excite me as no other woman ever could,”
he said, pressing her tightly to him until she felt the bulge of his desire.

“I admit it was exciting to have you here last night,” she told him. “Right under Thorn’s nose, and him being none the wiser for it. But you had better leave now. The slaves might know you and I are lovers, and they would not hesitate to tell Thorn.”

George Cross’s eyes ran over Wilhelmina. He had been obsessed with her ever since he had first come to this house a year ago to treat Benjamin Stoddard. He felt no guilt at the slow poison he was prescribing for the old man. He would do anything Wilhelmina asked of him—anything to keep her with him.

“George, are you certain that the poison will work?”

“Of course. You have seen the results. But I am not sure about doubling the dosage as you suggested. You saw what happened when I did.”

“Everyone believes he has a bad heart anyway. They will not think it strange when he suddenly dies. Besides, George, you will be the only doctor to attend Ben, so no one will doubt your word when you diagnose his death as heart failure.”

“I suppose.”

Wilhelmina was reflective. “For the moment, my main worry is keeping Thorn from reading a copy of his father’s will.”

“You said the old man intended to change his will and cut you out.”

“Yes, and he would have done it, too…if he hadn’t become ill.” Her laughter rang out. “The drug has altered his mind. He dwells more and more in the past.”

She moved off the bed. “Hurry and dress, George. I want you to leave by the back way.”

He pulled on his pants and moved over to her, slipping his arms around her waist. “What does the present will leave you?”

“The day after he ordered Thorn off Stoddard Hill,
Benjamin made a will, leaving everything to me.” Her eyes darkened with the challenge. “Even though he has returned, Thorn Stoddard will not stand in my way. I can take care of him.”

George looked into her face and saw something raw and unsatisfied there. Her eyes were shining, and her tongue darted out to lick her upper lip. Suddenly jealousy ate at his heart. “I will take care of Thorn Stoddard for you.”

Wilhelmina was driven by desperation. She saw suspicion on George’s face, and she needed to keep his trust if she was to complete her plan. “No. You take care of Benjamin, and I’ll take care of Thorn. It must not appear that you have any interest in him other than as the son of your patient.”

Thorn dismounted and rushed up the steps of Stonehouse. He had come by way of the
Victorious
, so he knew Achmed had not yet been found. He dreaded facing Brittany with the news, because he had come to understand how much Achmed meant to her.

Brittany must have seen him ride up, because when he entered the house, she was waiting for him. “Have you word of Achmed?”

“I am sorry, Brittany. No one has seen him. But we are still searching.”

“You will not give up, will you?”

“No,” he assured her. “The men who searched for him last night are resting while others take their place.”

Her brow furrowed with worry. “What is your father’s condition?”

“He’s not good. I fear for his life, Brittany.”

She noticed the tired lines beneath his eyes. “Did you sit with him after you left here?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have not been to bed yet?”

“No, not yet. I have too much on my mind to sleep.”

“Tell me how can I help you?”

He did not answer immediately, but instead, took her hand and led her into the dining room. From a sideboard, he poured himself and Brittany a cup of coffee and motioned for her to join him at the table.

When she searched his face, she detected something vulnerable about him.

“Do you really want to help me, Brittany?”

She laid her hand on his. “I’ll do anything.”

His eyes drew hers, and he clasped her hand. “Then marry me, Brittany.”

“But we have already discussed this, Thorn, and I told you—”

“Let me finish. Marrying me is the practical solution to both our problems. You are alone, and whether or not you know it, an unmarried woman alone becomes the victim of vicious gossip, and prey for every upstart that comes along.”

She was thoughtful for a moment, remembering with an aching heart the love between her mother and Simijin. That was what she wanted in a marriage.

“I can see that you are doing this to help me, but what could I bring to a marriage that would benefit you?”

He lifted her hand and looked at the delicate bone structure, the long, tapered fingers and the half-moon-shaped fingernails. She was so small, yet wiser and far more intelligent than any woman he knew. “You could help me with my father,” he said at last.

She shook her head. “You could hire a nurse to perform that duty, and she would not require that you marry her.”

His voice came out in an exasperated hiss. “Brittany, for God’s sake, I need you, don’t you see that?”

She was completely taken aback at the thought that Thorn would need any woman. She touched his face, wishing she could be all things to him. “Marriage is a high price to pay for needing someone, Thorn.”

“I am willing to pay it. But first, you must know what you are letting yourself in for. I have talked with my father’s solicitor, and I have discovered that my father is deeply in
debt. The monies I receive for the sale of the
Victorious
and her cargo will go to pay off that debt. I have very little to offer you in the way of luxury, but I will give you my name, and it’s an honorable one.”