The Ghost (20 page)

Edward, you don't have to do this ' she whispered, choking on her own blood ' they were married. He didn't have to humiliate and beat her. He didn't have to rape her on the stone floor of the old castle, but this was where he wanted her, and how he wanted to do it. And whatever his lordship wanted was what she was expected to deliver. She had lived in hell with him for the past eight years, but she would soon be free. Edward ' don't ' please ' She was still whispering as he forced himself inside her, and battered her against the floor, while she was too afraid someone would hear them to make a sound. It was too humiliating to have everyone know what he did to her, and she knew that if she made a noise, he would only hurt her more. So she just let him. She thought she could feel sand loose in her head, as he banged her head against the floor again and again and ripped at her buttocks. And then finally he'd had what he wanted, and released her. He fell on top of her for a long moment, crushing the air out of her as he lay there, and then he got up and looked down at her like so much garbage at his feet.

You'll give me a son now, won't you ' or the trying ' he said, and then turned and walked away as she lay there. He was long gone before she caught her breath, pulled up her pantaloons, smoothed down her skirt, and began sobbing. She couldn't even imagine the horror of having another of his babies. All she wanted now was to go quietly and the somewhere ' even if it was on the Concord, on her way to Boston. And if there was a child this time, and they both lived, she vowed never to tell Edward about it. She would truly the before she would let him take a baby from her, or ever do anything to her again. It was over.

And as she walked slowly back to her room, covered with blood everywhere, her hair disheveled, her Up split and swollen, her cheek bruised, her head pounding, she knew she truly hated him as she had hated no one before him. He was the lowest of animals, the cruelest of beasts, and when he saw her in the hall afterward, having made an attempt to clean up his damage, he smiled at her evilly and bowed solicitously, with a look of cruel amusement.

Have you had an accident, my dear? How unfortunate. You must be more careful about falling, he said, and swept by her. But she wore no expression as he passed her by. She had nothing to say to him, or to anyone, and she knew at that moment that there would never be a man in her life again. No lover, no husband, and now she hoped no son, no children. She wanted nothing more from life, except her freedom from him.

Edward left her alone after that. He had gotten what he'd come for, or so he thought. In the past, a single act, however brutal it might have been, had always been enough to get her pregnant, and he assumed it would do so this time. And all she wanted now was to find out it hadn't. But she wouldn't know that until she was on the Atlantic.

The last days finally crawled by without event, or further disaster, and the night of her flight came at last with the full moon high in the sky, and the stars shining brightly. She wanted to feel something, some relief, some sorrow as she left, perhaps even some nostalgia, but as she stole to the stables, with Margaret and their two small bags, she felt nothing. She would have liked to leave a note for Haversham, but knew she couldn't. She would write to him from the new world. And she left no note for Edward, lest he find it before she reached Falmouth safely. And as it turned out, he had gone hunting the day before, and hadn't returned yet. It made their flight at midnight somewhat less frantic. And as they rode toward Falmouth, both women were in high spirits. Margaret especially, she thought it was going to be an excellent adventure.

And just as it had before, it took two hours to get there. It was an easy ride this time, and no one bothered them on the way. Sarah had been slightly afraid of that, but she had said nothing to Margaret about being concerned about highwaymen or robbers. The girl would never have come with her. Bandits would have gotten nothing from them anyway, Sarah had her jewels and the little money she had sewn into all her linings.

As they rode through Falmouth, Sarah let their horses slow to a walk, and they made their way to the dock in silence. And then, as soon as they got there, Sarah saw it. The Concord was much smaller than she had expected. She was two-masted and square-rigged, and the small ship barely looked sturdy enough to cross the channel, but there was no turning back now, and Sarah didn't care if she drowned. She was going. But Margaret looked puzzled when she saw the ship, Sarah had still not told her where they were going, though she had warned her that she would not see her parents for a long, long time, but the girl insisted she didn't mind. She assumed now that her guess had been correct, and they were going to Italy, or perhaps even France, despite the unrest there. In either case, she was aching to see a foreign country. And she only listened casually as Sarah conversed quietly with the captain, he seemed to be handing her quite a bit of money. He was an honest man, and he was returning the difference between their passage and what he'd gotten for her ruby bracelet. He had actually been able to sell it to a well-known jeweler in London, and they'd paid him a king's ransom for it.

Sarah was thanking him as Margaret joined them. How long will the journey take? the young girl asked cheerfully, as Sarah and the captain exchanged a look, and he answered her.

Six weeks if we're lucky, two months if we hit storms. Either way, we should be in Boston in October. He nodded, and Sarah silently hoped the crossing would go well, although she was going in any case. She had nothing to lose now. But Margaret was looking horrified at what she'd just heard from Captain Mac-Cormack.

Boston? I thought we were going to Paris! she said, with a look of terror. Oh, I can't go to Boston, your ladyship ' I can't do it ' I can't ' I'd the ' I'd die, I know it, on a little boat like that. Oh no, please, she began to sob and clutch at Sarah's hands, don't make me do it ' please send me back. Sarah put her arms around her as she sighed. She had been afraid something like this would happen, and it would be awkward for her to travel alone, but she didn't have the heart to force the girl to come with her. She was far too frightened, and after a few minutes, Sarah told her to calm down and held both her hands.

I won't make you go anywhere you don't want to go, she said quietly, trying to will the girl out of her hysterics, but it was no small task. I want you to swear to me that you won't tell anyone where I've gone ' no matter what his lordship does, or anyone says ' or even Mr. Haversham ' you must promise me you won't tell anyone where I am. Otherwise, if you think you might tell, you must come with me, she said sternly, and Margaret nodded frantically as she cried. Sarah had no intention of taking her anywhere now, but she'd rather frighten her a little bit, so the girl didn't go back to Edward and expose her. You must swear now. She lifted her chin with one finger, and the girl clung to her like a child.

I swear ' but your ladyship ' please don't go on that boat, I beg of you ' you'll drown '

I would far rather drown than live as I do now, she said calmly. She could still feel the bruise on her cheek, and it had taken days for her swollen lip to go down. And after his most recent rape, she still did not know if she was with child. But rather than tolerate his brutality, she would rather sail ten times around the world in the smallest boat they had. I'm going, Margaret. And since the girl was going back, Sarah told her to take the horses back with her. She had originally planned to abandon them in Falmouth, and had told the man at the stables to sell them for whatever he could get, but there was no reason now to do that. You must be very strong when they ask you about me. Tell them only that I left you, and I took the London road on foot. That will keep them busy for a while. Poor Haversham. Sarah was sure that Edward would accuse his brother without mercy, but in the end, his very real innocence would be his best defense. And once she was in the new world, there was nothing Edward could do to bring her back. She wasn't chattel after all, she wasn't a slave he had bought and owned, although he thought so. She was only his wife. All he could do was disown her, and refuse to pay her debts. But she wanted nothing more from the Earl of Balfour. She was going to sell the jewels she had, and do the best she could after that. At worst, she could become a governess, or a companion to a proper lady, if she had to. She had never tried it, but she was not afraid of work. She was only afraid of dying at Edward's hands. Or worse, not dying soon enough, and living long enough to be tortured by him until he died. And even at fifty-four, he could still live for a long time. Far too long for Sarah.

Sarah and Margaret shared a tearful farewell on the dock, and the young girl clung to her, crying piteously, terrified her mistress was about to die. But as Sarah boarded the tiny brig alone, she looked unafraid. There were half a dozen other passengers on the deck, and they wanted to be off before first fight.

She was still standing there, waving, as the ship set sail and Margaret could see her through her tears, as they left the dock.

Good luck! she shouted in the morning breeze, but by then Sarah couldn't hear her. She was smiling broadly, and feeling happy and free and alive for the first time. And as the ship turned slowly around and left the English coast, Sarah closed her eyes and thanked God for giving her a new life.

Charlie sat in total silence for a long time, as he closed the book. It was four o'clock in the morning, and he had been reading for hours. What an extraordinary human being she had been. What an incredible thing to do, to dare to leave her husband, at that time, and set sail for Boston, on a tiny ship, with neither companion nor friend to go with her. And from what he could gather from what she'd written, she knew no one at all in the new world. He couldn't even imagine the courage she had, or the life from which she'd fled. The stories she'd told of Edward made him shiver, and he wished that he could have reached out to her, or been there to help. He would have loved to know her, and to be her friend, even to be on the brig with her that left Falmouth for the new world.

He closed the journal carefully, looking at it as the precious thing that it was. He felt as though he were sharing a remarkable secret, and as he went upstairs to her room, he longed to see her. He knew so much more about her now, knew who she was, where she had been. He could only imagine what the trip over on the ship had been like. He was tempted to stay up all night and read about it, but he knew he had to get some sleep before morning.

He lay in bed that night, thinking about her, wishing he could hear her, and thinking of the incredible good luck that had brought him to the trunk. Or was it? Perhaps there had never been a chipmunk or a rat, perhaps she had wanted him to find her journals. Perhaps she had led him to them, but then as he thought about it, he smiled again, knowing that was impossible. Even for him, the idea that she had brought her journals to him was just too far-fetched for him to believe. But however he had come to them, he was infinitely glad he had. And all he wanted to do now was pick them up again.

Chapter 10

WHEN CHARLIE AWOKE the next morning, he wondered if it had all been a dream. It was cold outside, and it was still snowing. He wanted to fax some notes to his lawyer in London, and he should have made a couple of calls to New York. But all he wanted to do once he was up, and had taken a shower, and dressed, was grab a cup of coffee and read Sarah's journals for the rest of the morning. They were almost hypnotic in the rhythm with which she wrote, and he wanted to sit in one spot until he finished all of them, or at least the one he'd been reading.

But finally, after he'd done a little bit of work, he let himself sit down in a comfortable chair he had bought, and start reading about her crossing on the ship. He felt like a kid with an enormous secret. He was going to share the journals with Gladys eventually, but not just yet. He wanted them to himself first. There was not a single sound in the house as he picked up the journal he had put down the night before, and started reading again.

The Concord was a small brig that had been built five years before, it had two masts, and a square stern. There was a small section underneath them, between decks, and four cabins for a total of twelve people traveling to the new world. And as they set sail slowly from Falmouth, Sarah finally went downstairs to take a look at the cabin which she and Margaret had been meant to share. But nothing had prepared her for what she saw there. The cabin itself was about six feet long, and four across, and two excruciatingly narrow mattresses rested on two terrifyingly narrow wooden shelves, which were meant to be their beds. It didn't even bear thinking what they would have done, if either of them had been fat. The shelves would have collapsed. And just above the beds were two ropes that would be used to lash them into their beds in the event of storms on the Adantic.

The others had all been told that they had to share their cabins, but as one of only two women on the ship, Sarah of course did not. The other woman was traveling with her husband, and their five-year-old little girl. The child's name was Hannah, and Sarah had already seen her on the deck. They were American, from the Northwest Territory in the Ohio region, she'd been told, and their name was Jordan. They'd been visiting Mrs. Jordan's family for the past several months, and were now on their way back home. Even to Sarah, it seemed brave of them to have come.

The rest of the people on the ship were all men, there were four merchants, a pharmacist who might prove useful, a minister going to work with the heathens in the West, and a French journalist who talked a lot about the American diplomat and inventor Ben Franklin, whom he said he had met five years before, in Paris. By the time they hit the first swells, almost all the passengers were feeling ill, and they could already barely see the coast of England. But Sarah was amazed at how alive she felt. She stood on deck as the sun came up, breathing in the air, enjoying her first taste of freedom. She felt as though she could have flown, she was so excited. And when she finally went belowdecks again, she ran into Martha Jordan just coming out of their cabin with Hannah. She wondered how three of them could sleep there.