Goddess Born Page 6

  He shrugged. “The date slipped my mind so I used my own. As for the name, it’s a small concession in light of everything else I’ve agreed to.”

  “Everything you’ve agreed to!” I repeated, incredulous at his gall. “I saved you from Mr. Fletcher!”

  “You took advantage of my situation and forced me into an undesirable marriage. The least you can do is allow me the use of my first name.”

  “Do not presume I wanted this marriage any more than you did.” My cheeks flushed hot with anger. “Believe me, Mr. Alan, marrying you was truly my last option. Why else would I willingly connect myself to a servant when half of the single men in Hopewell wanted my hand?” Well, maybe not half, but I wasn’t really going for accuracy at the moment.

  “Then why didn’t you take one of them instead?” he asked, giving me a sardonic grin.

  “That is none of your concern.” I lifted my chin, but he was so tall my nose barely topped his sternum, taking away from my attempt at a dignified air. “You are making such a fuss, I almost wonder if you would have preferred Mr. Fletcher’s company to my own.” I smirked at him, pleased with the insult.

  The elegant curve of his mouth tensed in warning, but I was not about to back down after being so rudely insulted. It was high time he remembered who was an heiress to a great fortune and who had arrived a day before, indentured for service with nothing more than the clothes on his back. Undesirable, indeed!

  “Was it him you wanted instead of me?” I asked, pushing a little bit further.

  His green eyes flashed dangerously as he leaned over me, bringing us almost nose to nose. “A wife should never doubt her husband’s natural desires,” he said menacingly.

  Disconcerted by his closeness, I started to move away when he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me hard against him. Inhaling sharply, my rational mind scattered beneath the heady scent of soap and masculine spice. Without thinking, I drew another breath, and my eyes strayed to his mouth.

  A soft chuckle vibrated deep in his chest. “So that’s why you’re angry.”

  I jerked my gaze upward. “What do you—”

  His fingers tightened on my arms. Then, with a dip of his head, he pressed his mouth to mine. The suddenness so startled me, I forgot to kick and scream until his hold slackened a moment later.

  The floor felt strangely off-kilter as I stumbled back a step. My eyes blinked open, and Henry loomed large, looking angrier than before.

  “Are you satisfied now?” he asked in a chillingly quiet voice.

  Indignation roared to life inside me. “How dare you!” I cried, my hand rising in retaliation. His reflexes were snakelike, and he caught my wrist in midair.

  “There’s no need for that,” he said, guiding my hand back down. “A bride is promised one kiss on her wedding day, but ask as you may, you’ll be getting no more from me.”

  We stared at each other in tense silence, two opponents sizing up for a fight. His flippant words could not hide the red splotches on his cheeks, evidence that his pride had been bruised no less than my honor. Ben’s knock on the door broke up our little bout and I pushed past Henry, glad for an excuse to be away.

  “Would you be wanting breakfast before we go?” Ben asked hopefully. With some effort, I smoothed the anger from my face. “We’ve a long journey ahead of us. I’ll speak to Mrs. Bradford about packing some food to take along.”

  Though I still longed to feel the crack of my hand against Henry’s skin, his impertinence hardly compared to my other worries. Our time spent dillydallying had given the little redheaded demon ample opportunity to stir up trouble. Out of sight, out of mind was my strategy, and the sooner we were off the better.

  Ten minutes later Ben was still grumbling at the prospect of eating on the road. He quieted down when I handed him warm bread and a thick slice of ham wrapped in a cloth. Having anticipated our stay at one week minimum, the landlady was still shaking off the shock of our hasty departure, but had no reason to argue once she learned my cousin had arrived earlier than expected. Under the assumption I needed to rush home to my ailing father, she didn’t make a fuss, and proved rather helpful in seeing us off.

  To more than a few raised eyebrows, I insisted we all leave together through the servants’ door instead of waiting for Ben to pull the carriage around to the front. Even with this precaution, I was on pins and needles when we stepped from the inn, but the demon was nowhere to be seen. Once inside the carriage, I had no more time to spare fuming over a stolen kiss. I sat ramrod straight as we made our way through the crowded streets, my eyes darting from face to face for any sign of Dirk Fletcher’s fiend. It was unnerving how quickly he had tracked me down at Meredith House, and I wanted to be far away before he had a chance to learn anything more.

  Only when the red brick houses of the city finally gave way to smaller farms and large expanses of forest, was I able to relax. Relieved to have left one problem behind, I glanced over at Henry and debated what to do about the next. His actions earlier had been inexcusable, though admittedly not entirely unprovoked. With how things now stood, no one in Hopewell would believe we felt anything other than contempt for each other. I despised what needed to be done, but if we were going to make this work, hurt feelings had to be put aside, and an olive branch extended. There was also the added advantage of deflating his victory by simply feigning indifference to our earlier dispute.

  A good hour had passed since we left Philadelphia, and I wrestled with how to best initiate a truce. Do you make a habit of attacking young ladies in order to prove your manhood didn’t seem like a good place to start, so I kept mulling it over until something more appropriate came to mind. “It’s a beautiful day for travel,” I finally said, for there was no safer subject than the weather.

  Henry had been staring out at the countryside and looked surprised when I spoke, as though he had forgotten I was still in the carriage. He glanced at me briefly then returned his gaze back outside. “It is too warm for my taste.”

  Already precariously close to the edge, my temper flared, but I bit my tongue in the nick of time, forcing back a tirade of angry words. Obviously it was going to take a little more effort to get past his stony demeanor. “I do hope you find Pennsylvania to your liking,” I said. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to London, but Philadelphia has grown remarkably since I was a little girl.”

  He looked bored with my feeble attempts at conversation. “You’re right, it’s nothing to London. But for the Colonies, I’m sure it will do.”

  My pride burned from his words, and if there hadn’t been so much at stake, I would have stopped the carriage that instant and ordered him from my sight. Instead, I took a deep breath and put on the pretense of a smile. “Did you have a nice voyage on The Berkshire?” I asked, giving it another try.

  This got his attention, bringing a dark shadow to his face before it disappeared behind his mask of casual indifference. “Eight weeks of being treated like an animal, subsisting on biscuits and salted meat does not qualify as a nice voyage.”

  “Oh,” I said, not expecting such an answer. “I had no idea.”

  Henry stretched out his long legs, filling much of the space between us, and then closed his eyes. Three times I had tried to make peace, only to be curtailed with each attempt. I sighed, defeated. “If you would like to post a letter to your father letting him know you’ve arrived safely, I’m sure we could get it to Captain Harlow before he departs for England.” I had meant to make the offer yesterday, but it had slipped my mind.

  Henry opened his eyes and stared at me. “Thank you,” he said with more warmth than I expected. “Yes, I would like that very much.” He closed his eyes again, and I stayed quiet to let him sleep.

  Judging by how long we had traveled, I guessed we would arrive at our lodgings within five hours. Henry’s breathing slowed and I watched him openly while he slept, marveling
at the events of the past twenty-four hours. Over the course of his transition from an indentured servant to my pretend husband, I had witnessed the extremes of his personality—both the cold indifference and the hot-blooded anger. Neither was to my liking, and I hoped to find substantial ground in between.

  The sun grew warmer, and with the gentle rocking of the carriage, I found myself being lulled into sleep as well. After such a stressful morning, I welcomed the temporary oblivion.

  I don’t know how long I slept before the carriage came to a stop and my eyes fluttered open. Henry sat alert, his body tense with anticipation.

  “Henry,” Ben called from the driver’s box. “Would you mind joining me for a minute?”

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” Henry frowned and stepped from the carriage.

  Through the wall behind the driver’s box, I heard Ben rummage around the compartment below his seat. He then swung down to the ground where he and Henry spoke in hushed tones. A mechanical problem would not have warranted so much secrecy, making me fear for more serious troubles. The Lenape Indians weren’t known to attack travelers, which made bandits and highwaymen the sole aggressors on these long stretches of road that passed through thick, unadulterated forests.

  Irritated by the suspense, I stuck my head out the door to get some answers. Henry saw me and hurried back with a sword in his right hand and a pistol tucked into the front of his breeches. He came very close, effectively blocking me from going any farther. Leaning forward, he spoke in a low voice. “There’s a tree lying across the road up ahead. Ben thinks it was purposefully cut down to block the carriage. We’re going to walk the horses for a space to see what happens.”

  “Is it a trap?” I asked, afraid my worst suspicions were about to be confirmed.

  “It looks likely. You stay here and keep your head down.” He helped me back into the carriage and shut the door.

  The carriage swayed as Ben hoisted himself back up to the seat. He clicked the reins to put the horses into a slow walk. Henry found his footing on the step right below the door to watch the rear, hooking an arm in through the open door sash for balance. Several very long minutes passed in this way, nobody saying a word, when a pistol report cracked in the distance followed by a soft thud in the wood, inches from where Henry stood.

  I screamed and fell back onto the floor just as Henry leapt down and disappeared from view. Horses thundered from all sides. Men began to shout, followed by the distinct clank of steel against steel. From my vantage point on the floor I could see nothing more than green leaves and the blue sky overhead, but it sounded horrible, as if we had been set upon by the legions of hell.

  Another pistol discharged, much closer this time. A man screamed and I shut my eyes tight, trying to block out the chaos. Oh, please Dear Lord, let Ben and Henry live, I prayed fervently. I’m sorry for being so bad and making Henry marry me...

  I was on the verge of promising to mend my evil ways and send Henry back to England on the next available transport when the door was suddenly yanked open. A long shaft of sunlight spilled into the carriage, and I squinted into the glare, gasping at the sight of the redheaded demon.

  A wicked grin revealed a mouthful of brown, rotten teeth. “I’ve been waiting for ye, m’lady. Won’t ye come out and play?” Before I could scramble away, the demon took two fistfuls of brown silk, and pulled me from the carriage, straight into his hideous embrace.

  “You filthy devil!” I screamed, kicking wildly and struggling to break free. “Take your hands off me!”

  He grabbed me by the hair and forced my head back. “Aren’t ye a pretty little wench,” he said, his breath a revolting mixture of whiskey and rot. “A mighty fine reward for helping Dirk get back that boy ye stole from him.”

  I caught a glimpse of Henry and Ben not too far away, swords drawn and engaged in serious fighting. A third man lay still on the ground while a fourth circled Henry like a bird of prey, a rope in one hand as he waited for just the right moment to jump in. No matter what happened to Ben and me, it was clear they meant to take Henry alive.

  The demon wrenched my arm, jerking me around the side of the carriage and away from the other men. “I’ll be enjoying ye first.” He pressed closer until our bodies were crushed together. “Dirk likes his wenches fresh, but he’ll have to wait his turn for ye.”

  Terror rippled through me and I shrieked like a banshee, my knee flying straight up toward his groin. He shifted at the last second, taking the blow in his thigh.

  “Play nice, my sweet,” he said, “or I may need to get rough.”

  I wrestled one hand free and raked my nails down his cheek, leaving behind four long gouges that made him howl in pain. Scowling, he drew back his arm and punched me full force in the stomach. The air rushed from my lungs and I dropped to the ground like a rag doll.

  “That’s better,” he laughed darkly.

  I landed in a disheveled heap, my breath gone and my face resting in the dirt just inches from his filthy boots. Black spots dotted my vision as he placed the sole of one boot against my shoulder to nudge me over. From my back, I stared up at his depraved face, at the breeches that now flapped open around his hips. With a grunt, he came down on top of me and started to tug at the multiple layers of silk and linen in his way. The vicious blow had taken my strength, allowing him to hold me in place even once my chest released, and I wheezed for air.

  Unable to escape, I had clamped my knees together hard when his weight shifted and then suddenly lifted from me altogether. His evil grin transformed into shock, and I watched as the point of a sword emerged through the front of his chest, the bloodstained tip stopping inches from my nose. Henry pulled the blade free and pushed the demon’s lifeless form to the side, where it landed in a clump of ferns.

  “Are you hurt, Selah?” he asked. Sweat dripped from his face and his green eyes gleamed fiercely as he leaned over to help me up.

  Shaking my head, I reached for his hand. A flash of movement caught my eye behind him. Before there was time to scream a warning, a pistol discharged, and Henry jerked forward from the impact. He stood for a moment, suspended above me. Then his knees gave out and he fell slowly to the ground.

  Chapter Four

  Behind Closed Doors

  Dirk Fletcher sat astride a large brown horse in a lingering cloud of smoke, his outstretched hand gripping a flintlock pistol.

  “No!” I screamed, my voice piercing the still air as though the one word had power enough to pull back time and change what had happened. Henry dropped to his knees before me, his face a deathly white. There was no fear in his eyes, only the sad acceptance of his own death. He said nothing, but gave me a weary smile, nearly tearing my poor heart to pieces.

  “You will not die, Henry Alan,” I said, as much an order as a statement of fact. “Not while I’m here.” Reaching out, I bid him to me, and he fell forward, collapsing onto my lap. On his back just below the right shoulder blade, a bloodstain blossomed where his coat had been shredded by the shot. Thank heavens his heart had not been struck, or he would have died immediately and moved beyond my care. By good fortune he still lived, though the sound of his labored breathing indicated a punctured lung. I had to act quickly to keep him from drowning in his own blood.

  A horse snorted and stamped the ground, and I glanced up as Fletcher tossed the empty pistol to the ground. Drawing his sword, he urged the beast forward, preparing for another attack. His initial plan in shambles, he seemed ready to kill us both, and I threw my arms protectively over Henry.

  Heavy footsteps ran along the other side of the carriage. Ben lunged out, blade drawn and yelling like a madman. Slamming into the horse’s side, he sliced Fletcher’s arm, knocking the sword from his hand.

  An angry cry rent the air. Blood streamed from beneath Fletcher’s coat sleeve, slicked his hand red on a path to t
he ground. Ben edged closer, sword raised for another attack. The horse pranced nervously, and Fletcher jerked one-handed on the reins, choosing to retreat rather than further risk his life.

  The last of our enemies defeated, Ben rushed to my side. “Where are you hurt?” he demanded, seeing my hands smeared with blood.

  “It’s Henry. He’s been shot.”

  Ben looked again, this time registering the wounded man lying in my lap.

  “Help me take off his shirt and coat, and lay him on his stomach” I said. “Then find something to dress the wound.”

  Together we removed his clothing, and Ben spread his own coat on the ground before carefully shifting Henry from my lap. Another deep laceration marked his forearm, but this would be attended to later. Once he was properly situated, Ben went to the carriage in search of bandages.

  Not daring to waste another second, I placed my hands on Henry’s back to inspect the damage. Closing my eyes, I followed the trajectory of the shot past torn muscle and cracked ribs to where I found it lodged well inside his lung. Ben returned with strips of neatly torn linen, and I sent him off again to begin clearing the tree from the road.

  “This may hurt,” I murmured softly. With a deep breath I summoned my strength, letting the rush of warmth spread down my arms into his back.

  Henry groaned as my mind took hold of the ball, dislodging it from the spongy tissue of his lungs. I then began pulling it backwards along a path of torn muscle and fragmented bone, and no doubt making him feel like he was being shot in reverse. When a glint of silver peeked up through the surface of his skin, I picked the ball out with my fingertips and dropped it to the ground. Having finished the worst of it, I turned my attention to his other injuries: the lung had to be drained and mended and the cracked ribs set. I would leave the rest to nature and Henry’s own body to heal.