Forever My Love (Historical Romance) (16 page)

16

Dearest Papa,

Saying good-bye to my friends at Fulham proved to be very emotional I was surprised when Mrs. Fortescue called me into her office and with tears in her eyes proclaimed me to be her most exceptional student. It feels strange to no longer be in school. How frightening it is to know that I am considered to be a woman—I do not feel like a woman, Papa.

It was Royal's last day at school. Most of the girls had already left Fulham for their homes. That afternoon Mr. Webber, the solicitor, and his wife would be arriving to take Royal to stay with them until arrangements were made for her safe passage to Georgia.

St. James's Park was all but deserted as Royal maneuvered Enchantress down the snow-packed trail for her last ride in London. Like slivers of glass, the bitter cold winds swept through the hedges and stung Royal's face. She pulled the hood of her cape about her head as heavy snowflakes drifted earthward.

She raised her gaze to the slate gray skies, then across the wide avenue where the houses nestled among a world of winter white. She would miss this city where she had spent so many of her growing years. It would be painful to leave.

"It's back to the stables with you, Enchantress," she said, leaning forward and patting the horse's long neck. "The bitter weather has taken the joy out of riding. We seem to be the only fools to venture forth today."

With the slightest nudge from the heel of Royal's boot, Enchantress moved in the direction of the school. Royal hoped that today's post would bring word from Preston, who had already sailed for the Colonies.

When she reached the warmth of her room, she glanced at the trunks that were packed and waiting to be taken downstairs. For so long this room had been her home. She had laughed and cried in this room—she had grown to womanhood behind these walls.

She saw two letters lying on the bed. One was from her aunt Arabella and the other from John Bartholomew. She picked up her aunt's first, since she had not heard from her in over a year.

Royal smiled when she read that her aunt Arabella had married an Italian count and now resided in his villa high in the hills above Rome. Royal was certain her aunt would make a most respectable countess. Perhaps this would be the greatest role she would ever play—but, no doubt, Aunt Arabella would play it to perfection.

She was reluctant to open the letter from Mr. Bartholomew, but it would do no good to ignore it because she would not be able to put it out of her mind anyway. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she broke the seal.

Dear Mistress Bradford,

It falls to me to inform you that it would not be wise for you to return at this time. As you know, Savannah is still in the hands of the British. Colonel Routhland has instructed me to make arrangements for you to stay in London until such time as he feels it safe for you to make the homeward voyage. Do not be distressed. Mr. Webber and his wife will see to your needs.

Royal stared in disbelief at the letter. Until now the war had only been the monster that had taken the lives of so many young men. Now she was forced to think of invading armies walking the streets of Savannah.

She reread the part about Damon. So he was a colonel. She had not considered him being a soldier, but of course he would have joined the Continental army. He was not a man who would remain passive, and he would never have joined the Loyalists.

In confusion she realized that she wanted to go home.

She was not aware that the door had opened until she heard someone crying. She was bewildered when she saw Lady Alissa. What was she doing here?

Royal reached out to her. "I thought you were at Chiswick. What has happened? Why are you crying?"

"It's Preston. Something terrible has happened to him. Mother has asked that you come to her at once—she's in the sitting room downstairs. You're the only one who can help us now."

Fear gnawed at Royal's insides, and she felt her head swimming. "Not Preston!" she whispered. "He isn't... tell me he's not..."

"No, Preston is not dead—at least, we don't think so. But he is a prisoner, and Mother wants him home."

"No, not a prisoner! When did this happen?"

Lady Alissa took Royal's hand and pulled her forward. "A message came from the prime minister only yesterday. Mother will tell you all she knows. Come, she is most distressed and wants to see you at once."

***

"Take a sip of this," the duke of Chiswick urged his mother, who lay back on a lounge looking pale and shaken, while her daughter-in-law declared they were making much too much of this incident about Preston. Mrs. Fortescue hovered in the background, ready to help if called upon to do so.

The dowager pushed the glass away and glared at her son. "I don't want strong spirits, I want your brother."

Royal went to Preston's mother and knelt down beside her. "Please don't distress yourself. It could have been worse, Your Grace. At least he is alive."

The dowager held a handkerchief to her eyes. "Yes, we can be thankful for that. This has been a shock for us all, my dear. Everything possible has been done to find him, but no one has been successful."

"I am certain Lord Preston will be treated well by his captors, Your Grace."

The dowager's eyes were hopeful. "I want to believe that." She glanced up at her eldest son.

Nathan dusted an imaginary speck from his sleeve. "This was bound to happen, Mother. But Preston insisted on having his own way, as always."

"Yes," his wife agreed. "You always indulged and spoiled him, giving in to whatever he wanted."

The dowager seemed not to hear them. "While Alissa is the heart of this family, Preston is its soul. I want all my children under my roof."

"He will come to no harm. You must believe that, Your Grace," Royal said, wanting to ease the dear woman's distress while she herself feared for Preston.

The dowager put a trembling hand to Royal's cheek. "We have treated you badly, Royal. But I hope you will not hold it against us."

For the first time, Royal began to wonder why the Seaton family had sought her out. "Of course not, Your Grace."

"You have it within your power to help Preston," the duke spoke up. "I wonder if I dare ask it of you?"

"I don't understand how I can help, Your Grace," Royal said in confusion. "But I will do anything I can. You must know that."

The dowager duchess grasped Royal's hand. "The prime minister has assured us that your guardian, Mr. Routhland, is a powerful and influential man in the Colonies. If you ask it of him, surely he will use that influence to free my son. You must go to him and beseech him to do this!"

"I don't know that my guardian would be able to help you. I just received a letter from his secretary, and he informs me that my guardian is a colonel in the Continental army."

Lady Alissa's face whitened. "Surely he would help gain my brother's release if you asked it of him!"

Royal shook her head. "I don't know. If there was a chance, you know I would do it. Have you any information on where he is being held?"

"No," the duke said. "Sir Henry Clinton informed the prime minister by dispatch that my brother was taken with three others just outside Savannah, Georgia. That's another reason we think your guardian could help."

The dowager gripped Royal's hand even tighter. "The other men captured with my son were later found dead."

Royal swallowed her fear. "Have no fear, Your Grace. If he was taken around Georgia, perhaps my guardian can help."

"Yes, and since he is familiar with the area, he must know where my son is being held." The old woman's eyes pleaded with Royal. "You must go to him and beg him to intervene for Preston. Surely he will listen to you."

Royal stood up slowly, feeling the weight of their trust. "I don't know what my guardian can do. Mr. Bartholomew told me in his letter that Savannah is under British jurisdiction."

"You must try, Royal," Lady Alissa urged, adding her plea to her mother's. "You must try!"

Royal glanced at the duke. "It would seem that Savannah is the place where I must start my search. How will I get to the Colonies, Your Grace?"

"As you pointed out, Savannah is in our hands now. I will find a way to transport you there."

Lady Alissa looked at Royal with tearful eyes. "Please help my brother, Royal. He needs you."

Royal squared her shoulders. "I will do what I can."

She felt opposing loyalties battling inside her. She knew two powerful men—could she use one to save the other?

"How soon can I leave?" she asked.

"Time is of the utmost importance," the dowager said, her eyes bright and hopeful. "I cannot stand to think of my son in prison and being ill treated."

"I will make arrangements immediately for your departure," the duke said.

"If you ask me, too much fuss is being made over this," the duchess told her husband. "I'm sure your brother will come to no harm. Perhaps this experience will help curb his impetuous ways."

The dowager turned to her eldest son. "If you don't control your wife's tongue, I'll insist that she leave."

The duke gave his wife a warning glance, and she lapsed into a sulky silence.

The dowager turned her attention on Royal. "It is not proper that a young woman such as yourself should travel alone."

"There's a war going on, Mother, and we can't be worried about what's proper," the duke said.

He took Royal aside and informed her in a lowered voice so his mother couldn't hear, "Preston, as heir presumptive to the dukedom, could be used as a political tool against the king. I want him back for my mother's sake, but also I do not want him to be used to bring pressure against his country."

"I understand, Your Grace," Royal stated. "But don't put too much reliance on my ability to free your brother."

The duke looked at her with new respect. "You are a brave young lady. It must be frightening for you to return to Savannah with war raging. No matter what happens, you will always have our gratitude."

Lady Alissa hugged Royal. "Know that you are not alone. We will be with you in spirit."

Royal smiled. "I will remember that and take comfort from it."

***

The wind dipping low over the Atlantic Ocean was bitter cold. Royal stood at the railing of the HMS
Dover
, staring into the night. There were no lights blinking from the distant shore, but still she knew they were nearing Savannah Harbor. She could feel it deep within her.

A strange excitement took hold of her. This was the land of her birth. Her mother and father had been buried here, which made her a part of this land, no matter how she had denied it in the past.

The canvas sails whipped in the wind, and she glanced upward as a voice called out, "Land ho, Captain. Savannah Harbor off the starboard bow."

An hour later the ship glided into the Savannah River. A steady breeze brought with it a heady fragrance that was familiar to Royal, and it awakened old memories both pleasant and unpleasant.

Yes, she thought with a pounding heart, she had not realized until this moment how much she had missed Savannah. Staring into the darkness, she wondered where she would find Damon Routhland. And when she found him, would he be willing to help her free Preston? Captain Ferris appeared beside Royal. He did not understand why such a beautiful woman would be traveling alone and why everything about her was so secretive, but she must be on a mission of great import, for his orders had been to see her safely to her destination.

"I was informed by the duke of Chiswick, ma'am, to escort you to the headquarters of the commander of our forces in Savannah, Colonel Archibald Campbell. I have a letter to present to Colonel Campbell, asking that he give you every assistance."

"Thank you, Captain." She smiled up at him. "And thank you for the courtesy you and your crew have extended to me. I am most grateful."

He bowed respectfully. "It was my pleasure, ma'am. Now, if your trunks are packed, I'll have my men bring them on deck so we can get you ashore before daylight."

The crew members were scampering around to bring the Dover into port. After a while the captain again appeared at Royal's side. "If you are ready, ma'am, I'll take you ashore. No one will witness our arrival."

So I'm to sneak home, she thought, like a thief in the night. This was not how she had imagined her homecoming.

Royal turned her gaze toward the shore. Although it was dark, the imprint of Savannah had been stamped on her mind. She could imagine the shops and warehouses situated high atop Yamacraw Bluff. The streets were paved with ballast stones that had been left behind by long-forgotten sailing ships.

Savannah was a city of charm and beauty, where church steeples spiraled to the sky and quiet streets were filled with moss-laden oak. A paradise where winter hardly ever intruded, and when it did, it was with a gentle hand.

Royal closed her eyes and thought of the graveyard where her mother and father were buried.

"I have come home, Papa," she whispered.