Starlight & Promises (44 page)

Delia cradled the stiff girl in her arms, gaze skittering to Steven, who waited silently beside the horses. “What happened to her?” she asked with uncharacteristic sharpness. “And where is her husband?”

Steven lowered his eyes. “I believe you should allow Samantha to retire. She has had a rough time of it. Then we can speak more freely.”

Delia nodded. She turned Samantha toward the house and led her inside. A bath was drawn and, under Delia’s watchful eyes, Gilly bathed the silent girl. When Chloe brought up a tray of food, Samantha averted her head. They tucked her into bed, and she closed her eyes, drifting off almost immediately. She still had spoken not a word. Gilly watched over her while Delia returned to the parlor to confront Steven.

When Delia entered the room, Steven stood beside the bank of front windows, a brandy in his hand. He looked as beaten and road weary as Samantha. A bloody rag circled his right upper arm. Exhaustion and a despondent air clothed him.

“I’m not sure you are welcome here,” Delia said, her words chilly as she settled on the edge of an armchair near the fireplace.

When he raised his eyes, bewilderment wreathed his features. “Whyever not?”

“Cullen told us of your departure with Samantha. He followed you to Huonville.”

Steven expelled a loud sigh, walked to the settee, and sank down on it. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and bowed his head into his cupped hands. “This incident was entirely my fault, all of it,” he said when he finally straightened. “Explain,” Delia demanded.

“Samantha asked me to assist in finding her uncle. I knew him at school. Though we never enjoyed a close friendship, we were jolly acquaintances. She swore me to secrecy for fear you would worry. I agreed because I had every intention of returning Richard to your arms by myself, if I were to find him. When I uncovered a clue to his location, Samantha insisted on accompanying me. I told her I would not allow it.”

Chloe and Pettibone eased into the parlor and stood along the wall beside the door. Cullen also came in from stabling the horses and found a spot on the floor against the wall. His eyes on Steven, his brows hunkered together in a scowl.

“Was your information correct?” Delia prodded.

“I certainly believed it was.” He smiled with a touch of irony. “One of the pirate crew told an associate of mine that Richard was still alive and being held at a pirate cove. I met with the man the next night to demand his terms. He wanted ransom money. When I offered to pay whatever he asked, he insisted Samantha pay him in person and accompany us in the event we were planning to notify the garrison. She and I were to be his insurance against arrest.”

Delia drew a careful breath. “Knowing Samantha, this condition thrilled her.”

Steven fixed his gaze on a distant point outside the parlor window. “Indeed, it did. I should never have told her.”

“I quite agree. You should not have.”

He released a shaky laugh. “Truer words were never spoken. We soon discovered Richard was already dead and had been for a long time.”

“But Richard is alive,” Delia said, her gaze sharpening, voice rising. “Christian found him and James on an island off the coast of New Zealand.”

Steven regarded her in dumbfounded silence. “Alive?” he choked out.

“Indeed,” Delia said with a nod. “He accompanied Professor Badia in a quest to rescue you and Samantha. What puzzles me is why they failed to return with you. Did you escape on your own before they arrived?”

Steven relaxed. His features assumed a look of sympathy, and he let out his breath slowly. He extended his arms to lightly clasp Delia’s hands. “My dear, I fear I have further bad news. I beg you, allow me to continue.”

Delia slipped her hands out of his, drew herself up, and motioned for him to go on.

“Unbeknownst to us, the pirate we trusted made a secret pact with Miggs and one of my men. From what I understand, Richard was searching for something of inestimable value. Miggs became convinced Samantha knew where to find it. He took Richard to discover his secret and truly believed Richard had died in a sea battle before the extortion succeeded. Now, with Richard gone, Miggs wanted Samantha, but she was too well guarded in Hobart.

“He duped us, using me and her obsession with finding her uncle to lure her to him.” He shook his head. “I simply wished to aid her. Six of my sailors accompanied us. A traitor within my group drugged us two days out from the pirate town and killed his compatriots. When we awakened, we were in the pirates’ camp and held under guard in separate locked rooms.”

Delia came off the chair and moved to the window, anger in her breast and tears in her eyes.

“An’ ‘ow did ye escape all by yerself surrounded by bloodthirsty pirates?” Cullen asked.

Steven snapped his head toward Cullen. A hard spark appeared to flicker in his eyes. It disappeared so quickly, Delia must have only imagined she saw it. Steven addressed his answer to Delia. “Miggs interrogated me first. He was saving Samantha for more … more refined questioning.”

Delia made a soft, strangled noise and clasped a shaky hand to her throat.

“You need not worry, Delia. The situation never became that dire.”

The anguish in her face slowly faded.

“I soon learned that Samantha occupied the room next to me,” Steven went on. “We managed to communicate briefly through the wall. Her time was running out. I had no knowledge of the information Miggs desired nor any way to stay his hand. He was growing impatient. Thus far the pirates had harmed neither of us. I knew I would be obliged to act soon and was prepared to sacrifice myself to save her. I seized my chance when Miggs brought me out for another interrogation session and a commotion arose in the camp at the same time. When Miggs was called to the door by one of his men, I came up behind him with a bottle. As he closed the door, I smashed it over his head.”

“Did you kill him?” Pettibone asked.

“Good heavens, no.” Steven looked aghast. “I could never take a life, even to save my own.”

Cullen sneered from his position on the floor. “So ye just left ‘im there ta come after Sam again?”

Steven shot him a disdainful look. “I’m fairly certain he’ll not do so.”

“What makes ye so sure?”

“Because by the time I released Samantha and we found horses, a battle raged in the town. I believed at the time the attacking party to be rival pirates and blessed their timely interference. I had no notion they were otherwise until we passed the munitions hut. Samantha saw a man and two others entering and called out her husband’s name. I’ve never met Mister Badia and cannot confirm his identity, but she seemed convinced it was he. Before we could make our way over, a bullet must have pierced the hut, and it exploded.” “My God!” Delia gasped.

“Fortunately, we were far enough away to sustain only minor injuries, such as this cut on my arm.” He gestured to the bandage. “However, I fear the explosion obliterated the building and killed the men inside. Since you say Richard accompanied Mister Badia, I presume two of those who died to be Samantha’s husband and uncle.”

“Did ye check ta see if’n they was dead?” Cullen asked.

Steven shot him a sharp glare before returning his gaze to Delia. “No one could have survived that catastrophe. Pandemonium was breaking out around us. I was obliged to see Samantha to safety. As we departed, the battle was ending, with the pirates holding the advantage. Flames engulfed the cabin where I left Miggs unconscious.” He sent a pointed look toward Cullen. “‘Tis for that reason I know he’ll not bother us again.”

Steven left the chair, walked to Delia, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was crying and stiffened at first. Gradually, she leaned into him and wept on his dusty coat.

“I am desolate, Delia,” he said. “I accept full responsibility for this horrific tragedy, that you should lose your brother so soon after finding him, and Samantha, still a newlywed, should lose her husband. Understandably, she has taken her husband’s death hard and shown no spark of life or interest since that day. If I were able, I would give my life for her husband’s to alleviate her grief.”

“No,” Delia sobbed. “You did what you could. You are so little acquainted with Samantha. Even had you insisted she stay behind, she would have found a way to follow you if she believed you would lead her to Richard.”

“I truly regret his death. Please forgive me. This disclosure must pain you dreadfully.”

She looked up with a tremulous smile. “Unlike Samantha, I held out little hope for Richard’s safe return after so much time. I made my peace with his death long ago. That it came now rather than a year ago matters little. God did allow me to hold Richard in my arms once more. I’m grateful to Him for that small mercy.”

Chloe and Pettibone exited the parlor, motioning to Cullen to come with them, and left the two alone. Delia remained in Steven’s arms, crying quietly. He leaned back and lifted her chin with two fingers. “I must tell you something more, Delia, and I do beg pardon if I speak too plainly.”

Delia’s pulse pounded at the prospect of additional dire news. “Speak as plainly as you must.”

He inhaled a deep breath. “Samantha is with child. She suffered from breeding sickness the entire trip back. When I told you and Samantha that I was unwed, I fear I was less than forthcoming. I married once as a young man before I took to sea. My dear wife died birthing a stillborn child. Her death pains me too much to speak about it. So you understand I recognize the signs of breeding. If we are unable to pull Samantha from her depression, she is likely to lose the babe.”

Delia’s eyes widened. “I-I had no notion—” “Though I know I have no right to ask,” he continued, “and why you should grant me the privilege, I cannot fathom, but I should like to see Samantha and help her recover. I blame myself for her current distress and wish to atone for my faulty judgment. She requires love and support now. Though I realize we’ve been acquainted for only a short time, I have grown to care for her. I have become fond of her. No, I must be truthful, Delia. I have fallen in love with Samantha.”

S
he stood in a meadow carpeted in tall grass as golden as ripened wheat. Where was he? Squinting into the sun, she shaded her eyes with a hand. Then off to the edge, where the light met a world as black as the ocean depths, the grasses parted. He grew closer, panting through parted teeth and sniffing the ground, following her spoor. A tawny head with a thick mane, a fusion of dark and light strands, arched upward from the nape of his neck
.

He raised his head, and green eyes caught her in their gaze, holding her in thrall. The world fell still, all sound and motion ceasing beyond this one spot in this golden meadow. A curtain of life drew around them, as if nothing else existed outside the enveloping folds of light. They were the only living creatures left on Earth
.

A quiver ran through her. Her heart soared. She

eagerly awaited his touch. His canines, long and curving, gleamed in the sun, and the wide mouth spread into a knowing grin, a grin that filled her breast with love
.

When a lyrebird cried in the distance, its voice like liquid sunshine, the cat’s ears pricked toward the sound. He gazed once more into her eyes and turned away. His footfalls grew more distant, and she wept. Somehow she knew: she would never see Christian, never feel his touch again
.

Over the next month, Samantha slowly emerged from the depression leeching her soul of all feeling. Every night she dreamt of the Smilodon. Every time, he left her.

Steven called on her and Delia daily. He expressed his remorse and cast at her feet promises, like withered bouquets, to care for her and her babe. Gilly wept over her, and Delia derided her selfishness, telling her she owed it to Christian’s child to pull herself together. Pettibone watched over her at night, and Cullen avoided her. Only Chloe truly understood. Chloe, a romantic at heart, believed in fated lovers and everlasting love.

As Samantha grew stronger, she contemplated her future with Christian and Richard gone. She healed on the outside, yet ice still sheathed her heart. She felt insubstantial most days, as though she were only spirit, not flesh and blood. All joy fled from her life. Even the prospect of bearing and holding Christian’s child could not warm her.

On the day she rose from her bed, she searched through her belongings for Richard’s letter. She found it among her petticoats, crushed it in her fist, and tossed it into the fireplace. Flames licked up, consuming it as voraciously as the cat had consumed her life. The Smilodon quest had brought her the greatest love she could ever imagine. It also culminated in her greatest sorrow. Watching the letter curl and brown in the fire’s heat eased her sorrow somewhat and brought her a degree of peace. From that day, she began to recover. Soon she was riding in the carriage with Steven, taking walks in the gardens at Government House, and accompanying Chloe on shopping trips into town. She still was not herself, prone to prolonged silences, and seldom smiled, yet her family took heart.

One day a few weeks later, when the babe inside her fluttered against her rounded belly, she took stock of her life and what lay before her. She placed her hand against the stirring child, and contentment washed over her. Steven asked for her hand in marriage that same day.

He came upon her in the garden, went down on one knee, and took her hands in his. “Samantha,” he said, “I know you still grieve for your husband. However, I pray you can find some room in your heart for me. I cherish you and wish to provide a home and security for you and your child. I shall forever regret the role I played in Christian’s death and can only hope that someday you will see fit to forgive me. I beg you. Allow me to be your protector, your husband. Allow me to comfort you.”

She smiled inwardly at Steven’s extravagant proposal, remembering the less than romantic way Christian hauled her from her cabin aboard the
Maiden Anne
and dragged her to the Hobart chapel. That memory made her realize she could never love Steven the way she loved Christian.