The Ransom (10 page)

Alex snorted. “Faith now, my conscience, sir? I relieved myself of that damnable folly years ago.” He laughed.

“Precisely my point.”

Alex gripped the railing. “I fear you embark on an impossible mission, my good man. Mayhap you should choose another.”

“I have not chosen it. It has chosen me.” Jonas smiled with a shrug, then gazed across the blue expanse. “What now, my fearless pirate?”

Alex raised gleeful brows. “Back to Port Royal. I have a betrothal to announce.”

♥♥♥

Sweet innocence danced upon joyful laughter when Juliana opened the door to the Buchan orphanage. Once she slipped inside, the sounds and scents magnified and swirled about her like a cool mist on a hot day. Before she could utter a word of greeting, the pitter-patter of a dozen feet filled the room like raindrops on a tin roof, and a swarm of excited children of all ages swamped her, leaping for joy. “Miss Juliana! Miss Juliana!”

Dropping her pack, she lifted the tray she carried above the sea of reaching hands as she wove around books and toys and pails of water to a table in the corner, upon which she lowered the sweet cakes Cook had made for the children. Dozens of hands reached for the treats, but she carefully ushered them back, smiling while trying to be stern at the same time. “Now, now, children. We must take turns and share. There’s one for everyone. Hello, Rose.” Juliana leaned over to say hi to the shy little girl. “Hello, John.” She tousled a young boy’s hair. “’Tis good to see you all.”

The sweet faces stared back at her as Eunice entered from a side room. “I knows it must be you, Miss Juliana, from all the hollarin’ I was hearin’.” The elderly lady smiled and eased a lock of gray hair into her bun. “Children, let Miss Juliana breathe, fer goodness sakes.” Rubbing her hands on her apron, she approached the mob of expectant faces. “Seems Miss Juliana has brought some cakes fer us.” Several children eyed the sweets and nodded. “A’right. One by one, you kin come take one cake, and then go into the garden and finds a place to sit an’ eat.”

As the children formed an orderly line and came forward, Juliana was impressed with their discipline. Aside from being thin and wearing shabby clothes, they all looked happy, clean, and healthy. Smiling, she greeted each by name. James, Elizabeth, Arabella, Jackson, Mitzy … Oh, how she’d come to love these children. Fourteen in all, ages three through eight.

Nearly half of them had chosen their cake and darted outside when screeching raked over Juliana’s ears and a flash of brown swooped down from above her. Startled, she had no time to react to the spider monkey before he grabbed a cake and leapt onto the rafters stretching across the ceiling. The remaining children broke into a fit of giggles, while Eunice grabbed a broom and began furiously swatting at the creature.

“You flea-infested varmint! I told you t’ stay away!” Pieces of straw showered down on them from the broom as she continued chasing the tiny monkey back and forth across the rafters. Climbing higher where she couldn’t reach, the mischievous critter settled down to eat his cake and grinned down upon them with aplomb.

Juliana stifled a giggle. “Where on earth did he come from?”

Eunice lowered her broom and shook her head. “I knows not. He seems to have adopted us. Or mayhap we adopted him. He showed up a week ago, an’ Isaac keeps puttin’ him out, but he keeps findin’ his way back in.” She shook her head. “The children find him entertainin’.”

They did indeed, as still giggling, the rest grabbed their cakes and scrambled outside.

“He
is
adorable, in an impish sort of way.” Juliana gazed up at the monkey, who gave her a wide, innocent grin framed in cake crumbs. “However, I am of the same mind, Eunice. This is no place for a wild beast. I can bring my groomsman next time. He’s good at trapping animals.” When he wasn’t besotted, that was.

“That be a fine idea, Miss Juliana.” She set down the broom and gazed out the open doors to where the children enjoyed their treats on benches placed across grass. Beyond them, bean stalks from a vegetable garden climbed a wall that made up one side of the old church Reverend Buchan used to run. The building was used for storage now until a new preacher could take over. The man who had been sent to replace Reverend Buchan had run off and abandoned, not only his post at the church, but the orphans as well. Juliana’s face grew hot with anger at the thought.

A sigh brought her gaze back to Eunice Tucker and her anger fled. No one could be angry looking at the kindest woman Juliana had ever known. Half-Negro, half-white, she was as round as she was tall, but she packed more spirit, spunk, and love in her short frame than most people held in their earlobe.

“You
do
spoil ’em so,” Eunice said.

“If I don’t, who will?” Juliana smiled and grabbed her satchel. “I’ve also brought two blankets, old clothing, and some books.”

“Ah, good. The children love their readin’ lessons wit’ you. I don’t know what we’d do wit’out you, Miss Juliana. Thank you fer carryin’ on wit’ your mother’s work.”

“How could I not? She loved these children with all her heart.”

“And you do too, I kin tell.”

“Yes.” Juliana nodded, her eyes misting. “I have come to.” In good sooth, she cared for all of them so much, she could hardly choose a favorite, though little three-year-old Rose held a special place in Juliana’s heart.

“Reverend Buchan was sich a good man.” Eunice pressed a hand to her back and lowered into a chair. “God rest his soul. He’d a hated it if we’d closed the orphanage. An’ what would have happened to the children?”

“If only that new preacher hadn’t run off … abandoning them all to starvation.” Juliana’s jaw tensed. “If I ever meet him, I intend to …” She slammed her mouth shut to avoid using words no lady should.

Eunice waved a hand through the air. “He’s long gone by now, miss. Back t’ a more comfortable lifestyle across the pond, no doubt.”

Juliana couldn’t help but loathe the man, though she had repented of her hatred more than once. But how does one forgive a person who left innocent children to die? A man who left them without anyone to care for them, and thus drew Juliana’s mother here to offer her services. Services that eventually led to her death. Yes, Juliana hated this preacher, whoever he was, and God forgive her, she would have no compunction to tell him just what she thought of him, should their paths ever meet.

Juliana knelt beside her friend and took her hand in hers. “You and your husband were so kind to take over after he left. I know neither of you were prepared for such a responsibility.”

“Nay.” Eunice chuckled. “We already helped out now an’ then when Reverend Buchan was alive. So when word came the preacher left, well, it jist seemed the right thing t’ do. We ain’t got much, but God provides.”

Did he? Juliana wondered. Her mother had taught her to believe that, but recently with her father’s illness, Rowan’s dissolute lifestyle, and the tenuous future of Dutton Shipping, she had begun to doubt.

Rising, she backed up a step and bumped into something. A pail of water. One to match the dozens framing the walls of the large room where the children played and ate and took their lessons. “What are these for?”

Eunice smiled with a sigh. “You remember Lucas?”

“The boy that sailor brought here two weeks ago? Has he said anything yet?”

“Nothin’. I fears he’s a mute. The sailor said he found the lad in an abandoned shack on an island offa the coast o’ Carolina, tied up, dyin’ o’ thirst, and near shiverin’ to death. He tried t’ give the boy work on his ship, but the boy don’t seem able t’ talk.” She shook her head and sighed. “But he sures made it plain t’ us, usin’ frantic gestures an’ sich, that he needs these buckets filled wit’ water stashed all o’er the house. To make sure we ne’er run out, I ’xpects. Same wit’ ’em blankets. He insists on havin’ stacks o’ ’em. In the main parlor here and in the sleepin’ quarters, even tho’ it be too hot t’ use ’em. Every time I’s try t’ take ’em or the pails away, he throws sich a fit, I fears he’ll make hisself ill or worse—fall over dead.”

“Poor boy. I can’t even imagine being abandoned to starve and die in the cold without even being able to call out for help. It must have been terrifying.” Juliana glanced out the window for the seven-year-old and found him sitting by himself, head down, savoring every morsel of cake as if he’d never see another speck of food. She kicked the pail, jostling the water. “But surely they are in the way?”

“The children have gotten used t’ ’em. Besides, we have ladles they kin use to get drinks from ’em. When the water gets low, I send Mr. Tucker t’ the docks t’ get more that’s been rowed o’er from the mainland.”

“And where
is
your husband?” Juliana glanced around for the tall, lanky man who had given up a lucrative inheritance to marry a servant in his father’s household.

A few children shuffled inside and surrounded the two ladies.

One of them tugged on Juliana’s skirts. “Are you gonna read to us, Miss Juliana?”

“O’ course she is, Emma. Now, you git the rest and set down in the corner there.” The children ran off and Eunice stood. “Mr. Tucker is buyin’ food wit’ the money our secret benefactor sent o’er yesterday.”

Opening the satchel, Juliana withdrew two books. “And you still don’t know who gives you such a large sum? Two pounds every month, is it?”

“Yes’m. It’s such a huge help.” Eunice shrugged. “But the note the servant leaves wit’ the money is jist signed Mr. A.”

“Well, praise be to God for this Mr. A, whoever he is!”

“Amen!” Eunice added.

Two hours later, after giving the children their reading and writing lessons, Juliana held young Rose in her arms, attempting to help the child fall asleep with a lullaby Juliana remembered her mother singing to her when she was young. After only a few choruses, the child snuggled against Juliana and drifted off, despite the noise of children playing in the room. Juliana smiled. According to Eunice, Rose rarely slept peacefully. Nightmares plagued the three-year-old, who had been discarded in a filthy alleyway six months ago with a note pinned to her chest saying, “Her mum is gone an’ I can’t care for her. God forgive me.” Anger and a host of other emotions she couldn’t name had riddled Juliana at the discovery. Mayhap ’twas because Juliana’s own mother had died and her father wanted naught to do with her that she felt drawn to young Rose above the others. They had both been abandoned.

Still, as she embraced the thin child, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold and love a child of her own someday. Chastising herself, she quickly banished the thought. She had no time for marriage or children. She must devote herself entirely to her father’s shipping business or she would not only never marry, she would be on the street. Just like her friend, Abilene.

Marriage brought thoughts of Lord Munthrope to mind and their recent bargain. She refused to call it an engagement. Not with that cheeky coxcomb. She’d not seen or heard from him in a week, and the thought had occurred to her that mayhap he had changed his mind. No matter. She wasn’t altogether sure she’d made a wise choice.

A knock on the orphanage door startled her. Isaac, who had since returned, ambled to answer it. At five-and-sixty, his years of farming had taken a toll on his body in the form of callused hands; skin the sun had turned into parchment; and a slight limp. Even so, the man always met each hardship head-on. He opened the door.

Juliana’s groomsman, Mr. Pell, dashed into the room. “Master Rowan is hurt, miss. Beat up pretty bad. You must come home quickly.”

Chapter 9

“Rowan, darling.” Juliana knelt beside the settee where her brother lay bruised and bloodied from head to toe. He moaned and cracked one eye to look her way, wincing from even that small movement. His other eye remained swollen shut beneath a gash on his forehead that dripped blood into his hair. He attempted a smile, but cuts across his lips prevented it. Instead, he groaned and whispered. “I shall recover, dear sister, never fear.” His voice was gravelly and thick with pain.

“Who did this to you, dear one?” Juliana’s eyes burned with tears. She took his hand in hers, but he cried out, grabbed his arm, and removed it from her grip. “Please. I’m all right,” he rasped. “I beg you, acquit me. I just need to rest.”

“You need more than that, Brother.” Juliana stood and glanced toward the door. “Wherever is the doctor?”

“He’ll be here soon,” Abbot said, gazing out the window.

Ellie entered with a bowl of water and a towel. “It will be all right, miss.”

Grabbing the cloth, Juliana dipped it in the water and dropped beside her brother again, her skirts puffing around her. “Who would do such a thing? Rowan, what happened?” She couldn’t imagine who would beat her brother so violently. He was such a jovial, lighthearted soul. Harmless, really. But wait. Mayhap Mr. Blanesworth had returned from overseas and found Rowan with his wife. She dabbed the cut on his forehead, remembering the time a few years past when Lord Rathsford had called Rowan to swords for a similar offense. She ground her teeth together. If only her foolish brother would stay away from other men’s wives!

“Who did this to you?” she repeated.

Rowan shook his head. “’Twas nothing. I owed them money.”