Wild legacy (8 page)

Byron walked up behind his wife and slipped his arms around her waist to pull her close. "Pretty day," he murmured as he nuzzled her throat.

Arielle slid her hands over his. "Yes, it is, but I didn't really expect the girls to be away so long."

Byron drank in his wife's subtle perfume. A delicious blend of wildflowers, it was among her most effective potions and never failed to stir his desire. "Why not? Belle has always been happiest with a fishing pole in her hands."

Arielle relaxed against him, but she was worried still. "Perhaps it was only Falcon's company which made fishing such a pleasant pastime. I've seen her standing alone on the docks, gazing out at the river so often these last few years. I should have guessed her thoughts were of him. I don't think he knew how much she missed him."

"Surely he must now."

Comforted by her husband's embrace, Arielle remer

bered the strained beginning of their own romance. Adversaries in Acadia, neither his British friends nor her dear Acadian neighbors had approved of their friendship; but regardless of the dire opinions of others, they could not have ignored the joy love offered them. She had lost everything she had once held dear, but did not regret her choice. She and Byron had been happy together for more than twenty years and she prayed they would have at least another twenty to celebrate their love.

"Perhaps I'm more upset about Falcon's visit than I thought," she murmured, "but I do wish the girls would hurry home."

"They are high-spirited creatures, but what possible harm could befall them, Arielle? They know the riverbank as well as this porch, and ride as confidently as Jean. Should they encounter even the slightest problem, our neighbors on the river would offer their help most willingly. Now come inside and let's dine with no further mention of our daughters. Think how sad Hunter and Alanna must be that Falcon left again so quickly."

"Oh, how thoughtless of me," Arielle sighed. "I blamed Dominique for that failing only last night, but truly, I am no better." She took Byron's hand as they went inside, and did her best to keep the dinner conversation light rather than burden Hunter and Alanna with her foolish worries when their concern was rightly with Falcon, who had left to fight in the war.

Byron had been sincere in his attempts to lift his wife's spirits at noon, but when their daughters were not home by three, his confidence that the day would be as ordinary as he had supposed was badly shaken. The afternoon was sultry and he could easily imagine Dominique and Belle napping on a grassy riverbank, but he wanted them home. Leaving his study, he paused at the door of the sitting room where Arielle and Alanna were sipping lemonade and doing their embroidery with lazy stitches.

"I thought I'd ride up the river and meet the girls on their way home."

Arielle knew all of her husband's expressions and while he was smiling, she saw the tension he was attempting to hide in the taut muscles along his jaw. "I'm trying not to worry," she replied, "but thank you for going to find them."

Alanna had not realized it was so late. "They're probably dangling their feet in the river and paying no more attention to the time than I am. I do want them to enjoy their idle hours, but I can barely recall being as young as your girls."

"That's odd," Byron said. "I remember those years vividly. You were already married to Hunter and raising Christian at Belle's age, and by Dominique's, you had given birth to both Johanna and Falcon. There are days when I think it's good our daughters have enjoyed so many carefree years, and then others when I pray they have not missed a chance for marriage and family."

"The war can't last forever," Alanna assured him.

Because he had been among the first to agitate for freedom from Great Britain, Byron felt responsible for every life lost in the cause he held so dear. "No. It can't, but our girls need the joys of peace as much as the men fighting." He came into the room to kiss his wife good-bye, then hurried away before the conversation became any more maudlin.

He followed the fresh tracks on the path bordering the river, but when he came to the spot where he had taught his children to fish, the marsh grass was high and untram-pled. Disappointed not to have found his daughters quickly, he went on, but at the next shady spot there was no sign they had stopped there either. Recalling a mention of pretty places for a picnic, he thought they might have ridden farther than usual, but when the sun dipped low toward the river and he still had not found them, he was forced to return home alone.

He left his horse at the stable for one of the boys to tend

and sprinted up to the house. One look at his wife's anxious expression and his heart fell. "I thought they might have ridden inland and come home by a different route, but obviously they aren't here."

"No, and now I'm sorry I didn't beg you to go out looking for them at noon."

Having overheard their conversation from the parlor, Hunter and Alanna entered the hall. "I'll leave at first light," he promised. "They won't be difficult to track."

Arielle clutched Byron's hand tightly. "They should not have to be tracked," she cried. "They were just going fishing, so they would have stayed beside the river. How could they possibly have gotten lost?"

"They are not lost," Hunter said. "They must not want to be found."

Arielle stared up at her husband. "I don't understand. Why would they hide from us?"

Alanna saw Byron shake his head, and offered her own explanation. "Belle asked about tending wounded yesterday. You discouraged her interest, but could that be where she and Dominique have gone?"

Arielle's eyes widened in fright. "Oh, no, they wouldn't have tried to reach South Carolina on their own, would they?"

"Perhaps they mean to overtake Falcon," Hunter suggested. "Do not worry, I will stop them before they have gone far. I should have known Dominique did not really want to fish."

Arielle clung to her husband. "But that means they lied to us, and they've never done that. Can't you go after them tonight? What if they haven't gone after Falcon? What if they've been kidnapped?"

Hunter cocked his head, throwing the question to Byron, who did not want to believe the Loyalists in Virginia could be so mean. Then again, there might be other men, deserters

from either side who would kidnap his pretty daughters simply for sport and use them very badly.

"We can't wait for first light," he announced suddenly. "I tracked them a long way up the river. I thought they were just wandering, but they must have been making for the ferry. We can ride a long way tonight, cross the river as soon as the ferry begins to operate, and overtake them by noon. Grab whatever you must, Hunter, and let's go."

Alanna came forward to encircle Arielle's waist as the men left without telling them good-bye. "Come, let's have some supper and decide upon an appropriate punishment when the girls come home tomorrow."

Arielle pulled away. "I can't eat," she sobbed. "I just can't believe they would lie to us and take such an awful risk. How could they even dream they could make it to South Carolina unharmed? How could they have even considered making such a long and dangerous trip?"

Alanna followed Arielle into the parlor and encouraged her to at least have a cup of her own soothing herbal tea, but in her heart she knew once Belle had fallen in love with an Indian brave, no risk was too extreme.

"I'm so tired I couldn't even braid my hair, let alone grass," Dominique replied. She knelt to scoop up a handful of water. "I can't remember ever feeling so dirty. We wanted the mares covered in a layer of dust, but not us. Do you think it's safe to bathe here?"

There was perhaps an hour of daylight left, and Belle surveyed the land surrounding their campsite with a weary gaze. Dotted with oak, birch, and pine, it offered a tranquil sense of security, but she was still on her guard. "We haven't seen anyone for hours, but it might be a good idea to wait until after dark to bathe. I'll build a fire as soon as we gather firewood, but I don't have the energy left to cook."

"Neither do I," Dominique agreed. "Cold ham and bread will be fine." She left her mare grazing near the stream and walked back to where they had unloaded their belongings. Not caring if she got grass stains on her aunt's gown, she lay down on her back, flung her arms wide, and stared up at the canopy of leaves overhead.

"Do you think Falcon could have come this far yesterday?"

Belle stretched out beside Dominique. "No. He left in the afternoon, so he must have stopped long before this." She closed her eyes and moaned softly. "I knew traveling this far on horseback was going to be difficult, but I never dreamed it would be exhausting. I'll get up in a minute to see about the fire."

"Yes, do," Dominique murmured sleepily.

Belle closed her eyes for what she believed would be just a moment, but she dozed off, and when she awoke, dawn had already spilled over the forest floor and turned the night air into a pale golden haze. Terrified they would be caught and herded back home like stray sheep, she sat up, pulled her wrinkled cap into place, and leaned over to shake Dominique awake.

"We've overslept," she cried. "Wake up. It's time to go.'

Dominique lay curled on her side. She needed a moment to recall why she was sleeping on damp grass, then pushed herself up into a sitting position. "What happened last night?" she asked through a lazy yawn. "I don't remember a thing."

Stiff after sleeping on the ground, Belle rose shakily and stretched her arms above her head, but she still felt sore and began to massage her neck. "Nothing. We were going to build a fire, bathe, and eat a cold supper, but we fell asleep where we first lay down to rest."

"I've got to take a bath," Dominique complained. "I can't ride another mile as sticky as this."

Belle didn't want to take the time, but when Dominique stumbled off toward the stream, she followed. As predicted, their mares were grazing no more than fifteen feet away. Belle swerved to run her hand over Ladybug's rump, then hurried on to catch up with Dominique.

"Hunter will be relentless," she worried aloud. She kicked off her shoes and sat down to remove her stockings. "His stallion is stronger than our mares, and he'll probably not carry anything heavier than a knife. That means the distance between us will shrink with every passing hour. He's got to know where we're going, but he can't know the route. If we make it erratic, it may compound his problems enough for us to retain the advantage."

Dominique shucked off her gown, petticoats, and lingerie with great haste, then waded out into the stream. The water was icy cold, and the rocky stream-bed slippery, but she was too desperate to wash herself clean to be bothered by such slight discomforts. "I forgot to bring the soap and towels," she exclaimed. "Will you please run back and get them?"

Belle weaved slightly as she rose, but wanting soap and a towel for herself, did her sister's bidding without complaint. "How very spoiled we are," she remarked as she

returned to the water's edge. We don't even heat the water for our baths. We just step in when they're ready."

Dominique leaned over to take the bar of soap from Belle's hand. "That was precisely my complaint yesterday. All that's been expected of us is that we sit and look pretty. We're encouraged to read widely, but never voice an original thought in front of anyone but the family." She began to scrub herself off with a vigorous rhythm. "When we're so pampered and weak, how are we ever to survive the ordeal of childbirth?"

Belle dropped the last of her petticoats on the grass. She unlaced her corset, yanked off her chemise, and stepped out of her drawers. She stuck a toe in the stream and shivered. "Our Aunt Melissa didn't," she reminded her.

That was such a sobering thought, Dominique could not let it pass. "Do you think of her often?" she asked. "After all, she paid a terrible price for loving Hunter."

The water was so cold that Belle's teeth began to chatter as soon as she had stepped in, but she had a ready reply. "I like to think she was punished for not loving him, but no, I seldom think of her." She shared Dominique's soap and washed with a frantic thoroughness before stepping out on the grass. The sisters had bathed together since childhood and although Belle was slightly taller, they had figures so similar they could wear each other's clothes. Neither felt the slightest twinge of embarrassment as they dried off.

It was Dominique who went to fetch their clean linen drawers, but both sisters dressed with a haste that would have shocked and amazed their mother. They ate ham, cheese, and bread while repacking their gear, and were in the saddle within half an hour of waking. They were not nearly as energetic as they had been the previous morning, but surviving the first night on their own, even if they had done it poorly, had given them the courage to go on.

* * *

Byron felt sick clear through. As a young man he had fought the French, and not been this frightened. Hunter's expression was serene, as though he were setting out to track a stag rather than two beautiful and defenseless young women. They had arrived at the ferry before the owner that morning and had to wait for the first crossing, but the moment the man appeared, Byron offered to reward him if his memory were good.

"My daughters are blond, and riding a pair of matched bays. I think they may have come this way. Did you have any passengers who fit that description yesterday?"

After years of working on the river, Simon Farquhar's back had acquired a permanent stoop and his deep-set eyes a perpetual squint. He peered up at Byron, taking note of the quiet elegance of his gray suit and proud beauty of his black stallion. He caught the distinct odor of wealth on the crisp morning air and hoped he could recall enough to satisfy the inquisitive gentleman.

"Most of my passengers are simple folk traveling to and from settlements in the Ohio Valley," he began. "Families, mostly, and single men hoping for better than they've left."

Byron nodded appreciatively. "Yes. I'm sure you tote more than your share of chickens and mules, but I'm looking for two pretty young women. You'd not have forgotten had you seen them."