Read Sea of Fire Online

Authors: Carol Caldwell

Tags: #Historical Romance

Sea of Fire (25 page)

BOOK: Sea of Fire
11.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Get up. We’ll leave at once.”

“How could we? All eyes in the place will be watching us.”

“Elizabeth, no one knows who we are. It would be more disrespectful to these people to try to participate in a ritual we know nothing about.”

“Very well. When?”

“Now.”

They stood.

She fairly raced down the center aisle. She looked at no one. She didn’t glance over her shoulder until she was in the vestibule and discovered Christian wasn’t behind her. She searched the nearby dark recesses of the church. What had happened to him? She was starting to worry.

“Looking for me,” he said behind her back, and laughed, having startled her.

“You are not amusing.” She gently shoved him.

He yanked her back and gave her a hearty hug before he kissed her. When she opened her eyes and he released her, she glimpsed someone behind Christian in the shadows. She tilted her head to the side only to see the astounded face of Brother Patrick before he fell to the floor unconscious.

Christian spun around at the thud of the man’s body.

“God in heaven,” she uttered. “What have we done?”

“We have done nothing,” Christian said. He bent down to lift the friar’s head into the crook of one arm while he fanned him with the hand of his other.

“Brother Patrick does not know we are man and woman. In his eyes he witnessed an unnatural act and between friars at that.”

“Is he all right?”

“Aye, but he’s got a bump on his head. He must have hit it on one of the stone columns before he fell. We need to get help for him. Here,” he tugged at the hem of her robe. “Sit down. Let his head rest in your lap while I go get help.”

She did as he commanded. “Don’t forget you can’t speak.”

“Don’t worry,” he said and he positioned Brother Patrick’s head in the folds of her lap. He rose to his feet.

“Wait,” she said. “What if he wakes up?”

“You’ll think of something,” he answered and hurried off.

The minutes seemed like hours. Where was Christian? Fortunately, the rest of the congregation was still participating in their ceremony. She stared at Brother Patrick. Poor man. She patted his head. Her legs were beginning to fall asleep and her bottom was getting cold from the damp concrete floor.

The shuffle of feet and murmured voices caused her to squint in the darkened distance. She said aloud, “Thank God.”

“Hm,” Brother Patrick muttered. His eyes flickered open. “What happened?”

“You do not remember?” she asked, hopefully.

“Nay. How did we get here?”

Christian and two other friars arrived before she could answer.

She told them, “Brother Patrick doesn’t recall what happened. I was about to tell him.”

One of the friars examined Brother Patrick’s head as she spoke. “You,” she told Brother Patrick, “Brother Joseph and I had entered the church to attend morning prayers. You must have tripped on the uneven floor and fell.”

Brother Patrick nodded.

“I’ll see to him,” said the friar.

The two friars helped get Brother Patrick to his feet. Slowly, they walked their patient down the corridor until Brother Patrick stopped and faced them. He said, “We met at the coffeehouse today. You’re going to Howth later. Right?”

Christian nodded.

“That’s what we told you,” Elizabeth said.

“Just checking,” Brother Patrick said. “No harm in testing to see if the noggin is functioning.”

“No harm,” Elizabeth agreed.

Christian and Elizabeth solemnly walked from the church into the cold gloomy daylight. “I’m glad he doesn’t remember,” Elizabeth said.

“Aye. I don’t want another day like today. I think ‘tis time to hang up our friar’s robes.”

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Elizabeth sat in quiet contemplation at her escritoire, staring at the letters on the invitations before her. Hours earlier, after they had changed from their robes, Christian had escorted her to within several blocks of Roderick’s silversmith shop, where she deposited the sack of coins. Much to her surprise, she was able to leave immediately. As usual, Roderick said he’d be in touch.

She refocused on the letters and thought of Charlotte. She hadn’t seen her friend since her unexpected arrival four days ago. Though it was not a long time, Elizabeth’s days and nights blended into one existence. She sighed and wondered if she would ever be as happy as Charlotte. Yet, if her friend ever found out what a horrible brother she had, it might kill her.

She thought of Christian and next Adam. Adam and Christian were twins, but not only didn’t they look alike, they didn’t act alike. Adam was more serious. Christian displayed more of a sense of humor and made her laugh. Aye, she was attracted to Christian, and, much to her chagrin, she had to also admit she desired him. Never had she desired Adam in the same way.

She penned a few more strokes, sprinkled sand on the ink to dry it, and dusted off the sheet of paper. Until she heard from Roderick she would be free to do as she pleased, which was a luxury, considering Roderick’s nearly daily demands. She wished Hannah would return soon. She missed the woman, though she knew it was important for her governess to be with her sister.

She gathered up the invitations and set them in a neat stack. She had finished the last and would take them to Madam Perkins at the first opportunity. Fortunately, the woman’s masquerade ball was several months away.

She closed her calligraphy book and cleaned her pens. Now was not the time to be alone. Better to practice with Charlotte.

A half hour later, she arrived at her friend’s home.

“I’m so glad you came, Elizabeth. I was utterly bored.” Charlotte hustled her upstairs to the loft and her work area. “Have you heard any gossip?” Charlotte asked. Her large blue eyes widened in anticipation.

“Nay. I’m afraid not.”

“Oh pooh. Me neither,” Charlotte said.

“Shall we begin then?” Elizabeth asked.

“Nay. Let’s talk some.” Charlotte led her to a settee along one wall opposite the worktable. “Walter has been acting strange of late.”

“In what way?”

Charlotte straightened the ribbon on her gown, tucked one of her blonde curls that had fallen across her pudgy cheek behind her ear. “He’s been asking a lot of questions about Adam. He’s been acting strange. Distant.”

“ ‘Tis not unusual for the future groom to do so. He’s probably getting nervous about your upcoming wedding.” Elizabeth responded in a manner that suggested it was not of import. Yet, her curiosity was piqued. Why was Walter asking so many questions about Adam?

“I don’t like it,” Charlotte said, and pouted.

“Put it from your mind,” Elizabeth replied. “ ‘Tis nothing. He probably had some business troubling him. I’m sure when he comes to call next, he’ll have other topics to discuss.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Still, I’d rather Walter didn’t discuss Adam. I’m not happy with the man after what he did to you.”

“Please, forget about it.”

“Have you heard from Christian?” Charlotte asked.

Her father’s safety prevented her from telling Charlotte the complete truth. Yet, she couldn’t lie to her friend either. She said, “He has come by a time or two.”

Charlotte clapped her hands together.

Before she could speak, Elizabeth said, “I don’t wish to offend you, but I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Oh pooh,” Charlotte said. “When?”

“Soon.” Elizabeth walked to the worktable. “What do you want to practice today?”

“Something from the Johnston book.”

Elizabeth pulled the well-worn tome of illuminating and lettering from a shelf behind Charlotte’s work area, flipped through some pages and stopped at a section with borders and backgrounds. “This is interesting,” she said. She held the book open for Charlotte to view. Actually there was more flourishing and branching to each letter than she’d ever seen.

“It looks difficult. I’m not in the mood for such elaboration.”

“Let’s work on the simplest forms then. Circles, crosses, lozenges.” Elizabeth thumbed through the pages until she found the section.

“Nay. Let’s not.” Charlotte said and made a face.

“Charlotte, is something else troubling you?”

“Aye. I can’t speak of it though.” She suddenly walked over to Elizabeth and hugged her. “I care about you. ‘Tis nothing more.”

“And I you, Charlotte.”

Whatever was that about, Elizabeth wondered. She watched Charlotte reach for a book of plain script verse.

“Let’s practice proverbs.”

“Any particular reason?” Elizabeth asked. She wondered if this was Charlotte’s indirect way of trying to tell her something.

“Nay. It’s only that they’re simply written.”

Elizabeth took her pens and ink from their case, sat down, and they started. The proverb Charlotte chose referred to children and how quickly they grew up. Clearly, it had nothing to do with either of them.

They engrossed themselves in what they were doing, and spoke only occasionally.

An hour passed before Elizabeth stopped and rubbed the kink in her neck. “I’ve enjoyed this time with you so much. Thank you, Charlotte.”

“Oh pooh. It was what I needed, too.”

The sound of footsteps climbing the staircase caused Elizabeth to turn to see who was approaching. It was Roderick.

What had been a pleasant afternoon for Elizabeth, now soured. What did the man want?

“Walter is downstairs.”

“He is?” Charlotte squealed in delight. “I wasn’t expecting him.”

Elizabeth gathered her equipment. “Go down to him. I’ll see myself out.”

“Keep busy.” Charlotte hugged her and skipped down the steps. Her blonde curls bounced around her head.

When she was gone Roderick said, “You don’t look delighted to see me.”

Was she ever? The little toad. Once, just once, she’d like to smack that stupid smile off his face. “Do you have something to discuss with me? Otherwise, I’m going home.”

“You should be nicer to me.” He approached the table where she gathered her quill pens.

“I wasn’t aware I wasn’t being nice.”

“I talked to Adam.”

Elizabeth stood perfectly still. Would she or wouldn’t she be able to meet with him. “Will he see me?”

“Aye.”

Relief surged through her body.

“He is quite pleased with your work. In two days’ time, he will take a room at an inn near Dublin Castle. I will tell you which one and what hour right before we depart.”

“Thank you, Roderick.”

He walked around the table until he was so close she inwardly cringed at his breath tickling her cheek. “See, I’m not the evil man you think I am.”

“I’d like to go,” she said.

“By all means, go.” He stepped aside and motioned for her to pass.

He said no more as he followed her down the stairs and watched as she closed the door. No doubt, if she had spared him another glance, he’d have been wearing his stupid grin.

She inhaled the crisp cold air. It was late afternoon. Still early. Should she alert Christian to the upcoming meeting with Adam? If she did not, it would underscore her lack of trust in Christian. Did she trust him so little? Nay. In fact, on each assignment he accompanied her, she was beginning to trust him more. This would be the opportunity to make amends for her lack of trust in him. He would have to realize that she could have kept the details about the meeting to herself. Telling him would indicate she had begun to trust.

She smiled. She liked the idea and excitedly hailed a ride. The only question now was, should she send him a missive or personally bring him the news? No sooner had she asked herself when it occurred to her Roderick might have been testing her. Maybe it was all a plot to see if she had involved the authorities thus far. Maybe he would have someone follow her to find out. She’d wait and send word by messenger.

* * * *

A day and most of the second had passed and Elizabeth still had not heard from Christian. Roderick could send word or arrive at her doorstep at any time to take her to Adam. In her missive to Christian, she simply said to come as soon as possible. It was important, but she was not in any danger. She wanted to relay the details directly to him. Christian always was prompt to respond when she sent him a missive.

Aye. She was worried about him. What if he had been struck down by a runaway coach, or some other tragedy had befallen him? Only this morn she had read in the
Dublin News
how beggary and thievery were on the rise in uncontrollable proportions given the small number of constables patrolling the streets. What if he’d been robbed and left for dead? What if he’d attended Bailey’s gambling club and was foolishly called out for a duel? Perhaps, the man whom Christian had hired to tail Roderick was caught by Roderick and the toad learned about Christian?

She jumped to her feet to throw several more pieces of peat into the parlor fireplace, and ambled back to the sofa and toasty lap rug. She’d try not to think about him, but if she didn’t hear from him in an hour, she’d go to his town house on Dawson Street.

God in heaven! The evenings were lonely without Hannah, her father, or even a beau come to call. Not that many gents came to court over the past few years. Still, she was six and twenty. Shouldn’t she have been attending balls and concerts and the like? Shouldn’t she have been leading a normal life? What was normal? Prior to this nightmare, she had few lady friends. Not because she was never invited out or disliked. She simply didn’t care to attend crowded functions where women swooned at men who considered discussions about themselves quite entertaining. Even when she was younger and courted more frequently—before she became known as the ice queen who loved her pens more than men—she cared little for such noisy affairs. When Adam came along, it was a relief when he suggested they stay at home.

Her thoughts uncontrollably drifted back to Christian. A sick feeling knotted her stomach. She cared for the man. Aye, she was physically attracted to him, too. Who wouldn’t have been, with his dark hair and sensuous amber-colored eyes? It went beyond appeal though. He had, oddly enough, become her friend and mentor. Aye. Other than her father and Hannah, she had been afraid to trust anyone else, but now, if she analyzed her feelings, she had begun to trust Christian and for only one reason. She cared for him—nay, perhaps it was even love.

BOOK: Sea of Fire
11.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Wooden Mile by Chris Mould
Winter Kisses by A.C. Arthur
The Beneath by S. C. Ransom
[Last Of The Jedi] - 07 by Secret Weapon (Jude Watson)
Mr. Murder by Dean Koontz
Among Strange Victims by Daniel Saldaña París
La hojarasca by Gabriel García Márquez