Forever My Love (Historical Romance) (28 page)

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Alba became concerned when Royal didn't come down for breakfast. She turned to Tobias, who had just entered from the back door with a puzzled look on his face.

"Mind that you wipe your feet, Tobias. I won't have you tracking up my clean floor."

He dropped his armload of wood in the wood bin and removed his cap. "I found muddy tracks all around the house. What's strange is that they seem to disappear into the tree beneath Miss Royal's window."

Alba, who had been dipping spoon bread into a hot skillet, paused at her task. "What do you make of that?"

"I don't know. Where's Miss Royal? I haven't see her all morning.

Alba pushed the hot pan off the stove and turned toward the door, beginning to worry. "Neither have I. I'd feel better if I see her for myself."

The housekeeper rushed up the stairs and, without bothering to knock, pushed open Royal's door. Her eyes went to the bed, but Royal was not there.

Glancing about the room, she clucked her tongue at the water stains on the rug. But she stopped short when she saw the muddy footprints. They were too large to be Miss Royal's. No, they would have to be a man's footprints, she thought in panic.

"Miss Royal, where are you, girl? Answer me!" She waited for a reply, but there was none, so she rushed to the top of the stairs and called down to her husband. "Tobias, come at once! Something is certainly amiss—hurry!"

By the time Tobias joined her, there was fear in the housekeeper's eyes. "What do you think happened?" she asked, pointing out the tracks.

Tobias frowned as he took in the situation. "I'll tell you what I make of it. Two men came in through that window, but they left by the door."

Alba shook her head. "Where is my Royal?"

Tobias's eyes took on a murderous light. "Apparently they took her with them." He hurried into the hallway and called over his shoulder, "They went out this way, bold as you please, and right out the front door."

Alba sank down on the bed, trying to think clearly past the panic that was welling up inside her. Who would do such a thing to that sweet child? She glanced at the pillow, where the imprint of Royal's head was still visible.

"What's this?" she said, picking up a note that had been placed there.

She ran into the hallway, calling after Tobias. "Listen to this," she said in a trembling voice.

Damon Routhland,

              By now you will know that your ward is missing, and that I took her. Try to imagine all the horrors she will endure to pay for what you did to me. Try to sleep at night when she cries out for your help. Try to find her if you dare.

Vincent Murdock

"My God!" Alba cried. "Who is this madman? Why has he taken Miss Royal?"

Tobias looked at his wife in disbelief. "Don't you know who he is? Murdock's the man that shot Mr. Routhland when he rescued the duke."

"What will we do?" Alba asked, beginning to pace the hallway. "Who can we turn to for help?"

Tobias was thoughtful for a moment. "We don't know where Mr. Routhland is, and for that matter, we don't know how to find the duke. We are surrounded by the enemy and don't know who to trust. I don't know, Alba." He shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't know."

Alba stopped her pacing and grabbed Tobias's arm. "Go to Ezekiel Elman. He might be addle-brained, but he'll know what to do. I suspect he would do anything to help Miss Royal. That old fool simply worships her."

"Yes," Tobias agreed, glad at last that he could do something positive. "I'll leave at once."

***

Royal awoke with a feeling of dread, reached up to her aching head, and found a knot. She had been knocked unconscious by one of the men who had spirited her away, and she was disoriented. Where was she? For a long moment she tried to focus her eyes and remember.

After a while she realized she was lying on a narrow cot with her arms tied in front of her. When she tried to sit up, she discovered her legs were bound as well.

She groaned in pain while she took in her surroundings. The room was small and crudely built. It was made of logs that had not been filled in, and she could see daylight through the wide gaps. There was a dirt floor, and wide palm leaves covered the roof. She doubted they would do much to keep out rain.

There was no window, and the door had no latch, leaving Royal to believe it was locked from the outside. The sounds she heard convinced her that she was in the swamps.

At that moment she was more bewildered than frightened. Who were the men who had taken her from her home, and what did they want with her?

Royal did not have long to wait for answers, for the door was thrust open, and a woman sauntered into the room. The woman's eyes were as black as her hair, which was frizzy and unkempt, and she was barefoot. Her face might have been considered pretty had it not been for the unsightly pout that turned her mouth down and the hardness in her eyes.

"So, the princess is awake," she said. "Bless us all. Can we serve you in any way, Miss High-and-Mighty?"

Royal resented the fact that she was being held in this filthy place against her will, and she refused to let this creature see how frightened she was. She tossed her head, returning the woman's taunts with a look of insolence. "Who is responsible for this?"

"La-te-da, but ain't we grand?"

"Who are you?"

"Name's Marie Grimmet." Her gaze fell on Royal's nightgown, and she leaned closer to examine it more thoroughly. Her dirty hands ran down the sleeve to touch the embroidered roses on the cuff. "This is mighty fine for a sleeping garment. I ain't ever had anything half so fine."

Royal jerked away from the woman. "Let me go, and you can have the gown."

Crackling laughter emitted from the woman's lips. "I can have it anyway, fool. You won't be needing it much longer."

In spite of her resolve to appear unafraid, Royal trembled. "What... d-do you mean?"

Marie stabbed a bony finger into Royal's chest. "Don't ya know?" she said slyly. "You're the prisoner of Vincent Murdock. And those what fall into his hands don't never escape!"

Royal tried to overcome the panic that riveted through her body by a show of bravado. "Yes, I recall the name now. But you are mistaken. I know a man who escaped from your Mr. Murdock."

Again the woman laughed. "That Englishman ain't important, you foolish woman," she said scornfully. "My Murdock snatched you to get back at the mighty Damon Routhland. Don't you know that because of him Murdock lost the use of his arm? Damon Routhland will suffer mightily for what he did." The woman gave Royal a smug look. "He ain't the only one who'll suffer. You being such a pretty, dainty little thing, bet you can't take much before you beg for an end to your life. Yep, my man has plans for you."

Royal lowered her head to hide the fear in her eyes. "Damon will kill your Murdock for this. If you value Murdock's life, you'd better help me escape."

The woman suddenly grabbed a handful of golden hair and jerked Royal around to face her. "I've bowed to fancy ladies like you all my life, but I ain't no more. Not since Murdock took me as his woman. Now, fancy lady, you'll bow to me."

"Never!"

"Oh, you will, never fear. My Murdock can be very cruel when the mood strikes him." The woman released her hold on Royal's hair and pushed her filthy white blouse off her shoulders. "See this scar here? Murdock did this in a fit of jealousy. I got whip marks all over my back." Her eyes took on a look of pride. "If my man would do this to someone he loves, just ponder what he'll do to you!"

Royal felt sick inside. "I have done nothing to Mr. Murdock."

"No, but your man has."

"Damon Routhland is not my man—he's my guardian."

"That's not the way I heard it. It seems both him and the Englishman favor you." Her gaze moved over Royal's face. "I 'spect some men do favor your puny kind of looks. But my Murdock likes a woman with meat on her bones."

Royal turned her face away from the hateful Marie Grimmet. Her head ached where she had been struck the night before, and her throat was parched and dry, but she would rather die than ask the woman for a drink of water.

"Leave me alone," she declared haughtily, and turned toward the wall. "I will no longer talk to you."

"I'll leave ya alone, but Murdock won't. He's gone for the day, but he'll be back tomorrow. You might as well get ready for him."

Royal heard the woman leave and latch the door behind her. Curling up on the cot, she began to tremble. Fear ate at her insides like bitter acid.

"Oh, Damon," she cried out, "not even you can help me now!"

***

The moon was shrouded behind a cloud as Damon plied his oars against the current, sending the small craft noiselessly down the Canoochee River, his destination—Swanhouse Plantation. Damon had not been home in over two years, and he wondered what changes the war had brought to his house and lands.

He hugged the darkened shadows of the riverbank and skillfully eased the boat beneath the pier that jutted out into the river. He climbed out of the boat and made his way up the slopes, taking care to keep within the shadows.

The message from John had said "urgent." He knew his secretary would never have sent for him if it were not a life-or-death situation. Damon had been granted a leave of absence so he could come home.

Slowly the clouds moved away, leaving a bright moon riding high in the sky. Damon held his breath. It appeared that neither time nor war had touched Swanhouse itself. The stately house rose majestically out of the darkness and was now bathed in soft light. Reflections of moonbeams mirrored in her windows, making it appear as if she were sending out a welcoming beacon to her lord and master.

For a long moment he stood motionless, breathing in the pine-scented air. He wondered what his father would have thought of this war. Would he have resented the English marching across Georgia—scarring the land, killing and plundering—or would he have joined with the country of his birth? Damon believed his father would have supported America.

Damon heard unmistakably English voices coming from the cove just ahead, so he realized the British were still watching Swanhouse, hoping to catch him unaware.

Quietly he circled the enemy camp, his steps noiseless on the pine-needle-carpeted path. With measured caution he reached the back of the house and moved to the door, hoping he would find it unlocked. His firm tug was rewarded. The door opened, and he slipped into the cool darkness of the house.

How strange it was, he thought, to sneak into his own house like a thief in the night. After he had seen John, he would sneak out again and be gone before daylight came.

Damon did not need the benefit of light to guide him through his own home. His foot was on the bottom stair when he heard muffled voices coming from the library. Cautiously he moved to the closed door and listened. He recognized John's voice, though the secretary spoke in an agitated manner rather than with his usual calm.

"What shall we do, gentlemen? If only Mr. Routhland were here, he would know how to proceed."

Damon pushed the door open, and three pairs of startled eyes turned in his direction. He was surprised to find Tobias and Ezekiel with John. He acknowledged their presence with a nod. "Gentlemen, did I hear my name mentioned?"

"Mr. Routhland!" Tobias cried, moving forward to wring Damon's hand. "Thank God you're here! The most horrible thing has happened."

Damon searched the servant's eyes as a hand of dread wrenched his heart. "Has it to do with Miss Bradford?"

John moved forward. "It's most unfortunate, sir—most unfortunate."

"I reckon it couldn't be worse," Ezekiel said, adding his opinion to the conversation. "Nope, it couldn't be worse."

"For God's sake, what's happened to Royal/" Damon demanded. "Where is she/"

John struck a more professional attitude. He fumbled around on the desk until he found the note Tobias had given him earlier. "Vincent Murdock left this for you, sir. I think it will explain everything." John's look was sympathetic.

Damon could not bring himself to read the note. With a feeling of doom, he asked, "What does it say?"

John's eyes clearly showed his distress. "Miss Royal has been taken by Vincent Murdock, sir."

Damon was riveted with emotions—rage that Murdock still lived, disbelief that the man would take something that belonged to him, fear that he might harm her. As a man who was accustomed to making quick decisions, he turned to Ezekiel.

"You and I are the obvious ones to go after her," he said. "Will you come with me?"

"I done made up a pack of everything we'll need."

Damon looked at the old man with gratitude. "I should have known you would anticipate my thoughts."

"I want to get her back as much as you," Ezekiel said, looking grim. "She's a mighty fine little lady, and she don't deserve to be in that madman's hands."

Damon shuddered mentally, thinking of Royal at the mercy of Murdock. "We have to find her, and quickly."

"I figured you'd want to start at his camp, though if n he was smart, he'd surely be gone by now."