~ Seven ~
IT HAD BEEN A LONG walk from the vicarage to the little cottage near hidden in the woods near Godwin’s estate lands. She found herself breaking down as tears overtook her. Life had come out of the light and dragged her into the dark. Would Godwin be upset with her? No, he was never upset with her. Would he think she should have lied to her uncle and denied the truth?
She had thought she would one day live
there with her child and that Godwin would have easy access to her.
She didn’t know that she would be banished so soon from her uncle’s
home.
She supposed her uncle was not wrong. She had behaved like a fallen
woman in his eyes, and she knew that was what she actually had
become.
She climbed over the rolling hills, taking a shortcut through a farmer’s field, cutting the four mile walk along the road to just over three miles.
It was usually an easy walk, but carrying a portmanteau made it less so.
Her anger and her pride had made her defiant and carried her the first leg of the trip without feeling sorry for herself. Now, however, the enormity of what had occurred hit her straight on, breaking her braver resolve, and she cried right out loud.
Emotions ran high and then subsided as she tried to consider the reality of her future. She would be, once again, dependent on a man.
When her parents were gone, she had been dependent on her uncle. She could have stayed alone in the small home they had left her, but at her uncle’s insistence she had come to Cornwall and taken residence with him and her aunt.
She had made a complete mess of her life. It was her own fault, she thought now. It was punishment for allowing herself to love a married man.
Heather had never before been confrontational. She had never had reason to be. Why had she fought with her uncle? Why had she not thrown herself at his mercy and begged forgiveness? He would have made life hard for her. He would have monitored her movements…but then he would have discovered she was with child. Ah, then he would have sent her away. The outcome would have been the same.
Her uncle had made a very good point. She was the reason Godwin had turned on his wife and son. The fact that he and his wife were not in love, did not even like one another, didn’t matter. She was the reason he was suing her for divorce. She could not excuse her part in that.
She put down her portmanteau and rested her arm. Her belongings were not great, but the weight was beginning to strain her right arm. She switched the handle to her left hand.
She sighed as she thought of her untenable situation. She should have been more circumspect. But it was done, no sense going over it again and again.
It was her fault yes, but she knew in her heart that even if she had apologized and promised never to see Godwin again, it would only have put off the inevitable. She was with child.
She supposed that was what had triggered her defiance—the fact that she had none to offer.
Godwin would be so distressed when he returned. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. She should have listened to him. He wanted to take her and sail to Italy and handle Sara from afar, through his attorney. She should have agreed. She would have had their baby while away and when they returned, everything would have been settled. Why had she not accepted to do that? Because, she answered herself, you were still trying to dissuade him from divorcing Sara, that’s why!
All this while, she thought she was living a fairy tale with Godwin. That was how he had made her feel. Perhaps her uncle was correct and she was wicked and selfish? Perhaps she should have left Godwin and gone home to the home her parents had left her long before she became so attached to him?
It was so hard to separate what was right and wrong when emotion and desire drives you to the brink.
All she wanted was to be with the man she loved. All he wanted was to be with her and raise their child.
Why had life done this to them—to them all…?
Reality now struck swift and hard.
She looked up from her cogitations and saw the cottage. It was lovely. A cream colored stone building that Godwin had purchased some weeks ago.
It housed a few bedrooms and a lovely sitting area, and she had actually thought she would live there, decorate, garden…could she still?
Her heart was heavy and her mind a mess. The awesome questions reared themselves for inspection. She was selfish, had been selfish to fall in love and then act on it. She was wicked. There was no other way to look at her situation. Her child might grow up to hate her? Oh no, no.
She put her portmanteau down in the small foyer and walked through the sitting room to the small hearth. There was enough kindling and firewood, so she started a small fire to chase away the chill from her body and the room. She shivered and hugged her cloak tightly as she waited for the fire to take.
She had no way of knowing that the smoke from the fire would be a signal.
* * * * *
Sara Ravensbury’s timing and planning were enmeshed that day. The widow Abernathy had carried her part in Sara’s scheme out perfectly. The vicar had reacted exactly as she knew the mean-spirited man would react.
Sara knew Heather would leave and go to the cottage Godwin had purchased for their clandestine meetings.
How stupid of Godwin. Did he not realize that she knew all about his little hideaway?
Sara knew Heather would never take the stagecoach for Devon. She would not, could not leave without first seeing her lover. No, Sara thought, Heather Martin would go to the cottage and await Godwin’s arrival.
He would see the smoke on his way back from his business dealings, at least, Sara believed that Heather would think that.
Thus, Heather Martin had fallen right into her hands.
She watched the smoke curl upward from the chimney and motioned her horse forward out of the dusky woods. Colin smiled at her and followed. He hadn’t brought Jimmy on this job. No, he brought a younger man, one that needed a bit more training in discipline. He had brought Bunky, a young lad that had balked at the plan they were about to embark upon. Colin couldn’t have any of his crew criticize his actions.
The young lad at his back frowned darkly, apparently unhappy with the job they were about to do, but remained silent.
Farmer Burns closed his field gate at that moment, stretched his well-worked limbs and sighed wearily. It had been a long day. All he wanted was his meal and his little wife in his lap. He hoped she had made his chicken pot pie, his favorite, and that was all he was thinking about as he looked up at the sound of a horse’s snort.
Curiously, he watched horses, their riders unknown to him, crossing the field at a trot. Three riders, he counted. As they neared, he began to frown. Two men and a woman…damn, if the woman wasn’t Lady Ravensbury. He was shocked. Whatever was her ladyship doing with the likes of them?
They were seamen by their garb, so what were they doing here? He removed his peaked wool hat and scratched his head of light brown curls.
He heard her ladyship laugh. Well then, no need for him to worry about her, yet, to his way of thinking, the three looked as though they had a purpose. He had a ‘feel’ for such things and he wondered, in spite of the fact that she had laughed, if her ladyship was in need of help.
However, as the three paused and her ladyship turned to push one of the men’s shoulders, bend towards him and kiss him soundly, Farmer Burns revised his opinion. ‘T’wasn’t she that was in trouble!
Well then, as bad as he might feel for his lordship, it wasn’t none of his affair, and besides that, he knew the stories. Stories about Lady Ravensbury’s amusements were wide-spread and as he was a tenant of his lordship’s, he couldn’t help but note that there was no love lost between Godwin and Sara Ravensbury. No, no love at all.
At any rate, there was naught for him to do. What he needed was the feel of his wife in his arms, and her chicken pot pie.
* * * * *
Heather plopped down on the hearthrug by the fire and stared at the growing flames. They were so beautiful, so vivid.
A gusty sigh escaped her lips as she thought of Godwin and what he would say and do when he discovered what had happened.
She still could not believe that her uncle had thrown her out of the house with instructions for her to walk to town and take the stagecoach at 5:00 PM to Devon. Town was a good eight miles. He could easily have had their stablehand give her a lift. No matter, she wouldn’t have gone, as from the moment she knew she had no home with him any longer, she had determined she would go to the cottage.
By now, he would think her now well on her way and probably be saying good riddance. He didn’t care for her safety or comfort and was more wicked than she, for she had not set out to hurt anyone, while he had.
She ran her hand down her flat belly. Godwin’s child. How she already loved the baby was something she couldn’t even put into words. She felt herself drift off when all at once a strong draft made her look up to find the doorway filled with an imposing figure of a woman. Lady Ravensbury.
Heather cringed beneath the woman’s scrutiny and didn’t make a move. She was some years Sara’s junior and until she became Godwin’s lover, she had led a sheltered life. Heather said nothing to her ladyship as she waited for Sara to state her purpose.
“Are you going to just sit there and stare at me, or are you going to invite me in?” Sara said haughtily.
Heather rose to her feet, brushed off her dress to straighten the wrinkles, and crossed her arms over her middle as she readied for the confrontation. “It doesn’t appear as though I need to invite you in,” she said, and inclined her head, indicating that Sara had already entered and closed the door at her back.
Sara smirked. “No, you don’t have to, do you, because if this cottage is Godwin’s, then it is also mine.”
“Ah, you make assumptions without knowing facts,” Heather said as she asked herself where she was getting her bravado. Was it now that she was face to face with the woman who had ruined Godwin’s life that anger on his behalf drove her?
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Well, it appears you have a sharp tongue.”
“Only when I must,” Heather returned.
Sara looked her over. “I have never seen you up close. My, but I quite see why Godwin is so taken with you. Stunning creature…such violet eyes and beautiful red hair. You should do very well where you are going,” Sara said slowly. “There on the hearthrug you made quite a picture. If you hadn’t caused me such trouble, I might have wanted to…pleasure myself with you.”
Heather gasped, absolutely shocked at this.
Sara laughed. “However, I can see you have the heart of an innocent though you play the slut with my husband,” her ladyship sneered at her.
Heather did not know how she got the courage to stand tall and put up her chin. “Ah, and you play the innocent without heart while you are in fact a slut,” Heather enraged, snapped back.
Sara’s eyes flashed and she raised a hand as she moved in. Heather stood her ground and said, “I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m not so missish that I wouldn’t think twice about defending myself.”
Sara accepted the threat with narrowed eyes and controlled herself. Instead, she moved around the cottage and wore an expression of disgust.
“So this is where you two play house,” Sara said.
“What do you want?” Heather asked.
“I want my husband to remain my husband, what do you think I want?” Sara snapped.
“Why? You don’t love him,” Heather answered easily.
“No, and still I want the protection of his name and title. Did you think I would sit idly by and allow him to divorce me?” Sara answered quietly.
“I don’t have the power to give him to you. I have been trying to deter him from such a plan,” Heather answered softly, more sure than ever that she and Godwin were right to love one another. This woman was evil!
“Really? Should I be touched? Well, I am not. You underestimate your power over him. You underestimate me!” Sara said coldly. She opened the leather pouch she held in her gloved hand.
Heather watched, fascinated, to see Sara move to the desk and set quill and an inkwell in its place. What was she doing? What was Lady Ravensbury doing? If only Godwin would return from his business and appear.
Sara stared at her and quietly said, “Are you stalling? He won’t arrive in time, you know. I have planned this very carefully.” She made a grand gesture and said, “There, Miss Martin, please be seated and I will tell you what you are to write.”
“Write? What are you talking about?” Heather had a sinking feeling.
“I am talking about you saving Godwin’s life. You will sit and write what I tell you, for his life depends on it,” Sara snapped.
Heather closed her eyes. She knew this woman was capable of anything. When she opened her eyes, she stalled. “Who am I writing to?”
“You dimwit. What can he see in you aside from your youthful beauty, and that will fade in time.” Sara shook her head. “You will sit and you will write to Godwin, of course.”
“To Godwin?” Heather still did not sit as she had been bidden. Perhaps Godwin would arrive now—soon? He would see the smoke in the sky from the country road on his way home. He would know she was there and wonder at it. He would come. He had to come.
She had to stall this madwoman. “What would you have me write to Godwin?”
“Tell him you are leaving. Tell him you cannot bring shame to his household, that you never want to see him again…sit, write,” Sara insisted.
Heather eyed her and chose her words slowly. “That is a lie. He would know that I would never tell him such a thing in a letter. He would not believe it. I will not write such a thing to him.”
“Ah, very well. You are reluctant to do as I ask…so come here to the window,” Sara urged. “It is time you learned to what lengths I mean to go.”
Heather refused to budge, still stalling for time, still hoping for Godwin to appear.
Sara made an impatient sound and exclaimed, “For pity’s sake…come now to the window.”
“Why?”
“I want to show you what is at stake here,” Sara said grimly. When Heather still did not move, Sara clucked her tongue. “For Godwin’s sake…come look out the window!”
Heather did as she was bid and looked out with great misgiving at the two men on horseback not far from her cottage door.
“Those two men are here for a reason. Do you know what that reason is?” Sara said, and her eyes glinted with hatred, a hatred so deep Heather felt as though she had been slapped.
Heather shook her head and her heart sank. Impossible to believe that a lady of quality would stoop to such threats. Sara was threatening not only her, but Godwin as well. What was the awful woman planning now?
“Ah, you wonder to what lengths I have gone,” Sara said. “You wonder what it is I mean to do. Don’t you know?”
“No, I can’t imagine why they are here,” Heather finally said as Sara stood watching her reaction.
“I have brought these unscrupulous seamen here. They are smugglers by trade, but ever ready to make money any way they can. Desperate fellows, really. They carry pistols, you know, and are capable of great evil for very little money. I was prepared to pay them a great deal more than the two hundred pounds I gave them.”
“And you want me to know this because?” Heather asked, though she knew the answer.
“They have agreed to murder Godwin for me tonight. There is only one road from St. Ives and he will be on it and nearing soon, very soon.” She halted and smiled. “Indeed, ‘tis a lonely road, and the deed can be accomplished quickly.”
“You are mad!” Heather cried, fully horrified. “You would not dare such a thing!”
“No, it was not my first choice, however, I would rather be a widow than a discarded wife, you see,” Sara answered.
Heather’s hand went to her heart and she gasped. “Wicked woman…no, I don’t believe you would dare such a thing. You would be blamed immediately. Everyone…as witnessed by Mrs. Abernathy’s visit to my uncle, already knows that Godwin is about to divorce you, and you would be suspected at once.”
“Indeed, I do admit to a certain reluctance to take that course. However, as I said, I will not be a discarded wife, and suspecting one of a crime is very different than proving it.”
“Oh my god!” Heather was beside herself as she searched her mind for a way to stop this awful woman. Unconsciously, her hand went to her stomach, as though to shield her infant from such ugliness.
Sara eyed her and then said, “You still don’t comprehend your situation, do you? Very well, allow me to outline my thoughts. I will not sign the papers Godwin wishes me to sign. I will not be divorced. He has threatened me that if I do not sign, he will disavow Roderick and me. He said he would have our marriage annulled…tell the world I foisted a bastard child on him. He would ruin us all…for what?” Sara looked Heather up and down. “For you? A nothing, with nothing, not even the will to protect herself.” She paused and there was so much hate in her eyes.
Heather shivered, unable to immediately respond to this, aware suddenly that Godwin was in danger this very evening.
“You see now, don’t you? I have two roads before me. Either he dies before he can do this awful thing to me, or I get rid of you. Simple, isn’t it? I cannot murder you. Godwin would know, and I do believe he might even try to kill me with his bare hands. No, killing you is not an option…for now. I can’t have him turn to the courts and accuse me of murder. He has powerful friends. I know that. Therefore, I have found another way to dispose of you. You will leave him. If you do not accept to leave him, I shall have him killed this very night and chance the consequences.”
“You…you would not succeed…people would know, they would talk. They are already talking!”
“Oh? I shall succeed. But why allow me to do that when you can stop me by writing this letter? Godwin will believe it. He will discover that your uncle has already disowned you—sent you off, and…”
“I will bear witness against you should you hurt Godwin!” Heather snapped, standing up to the woman.
Sara eyed her. “Indeed, I do believe you would. Therefore, I shall put your bodies together. What an intriguing idea. It will look as though you were killed on the road by highwaymen while on one of your little trysts.” Sara shrugged. “After all, as you say, people are already talking. In fact, that seems the far more simple game to play.”
“No…this is too ugly, even for you!” Heather said as much to herself as to Sara. Would those seamen really murder two people? Was Sara bluffing?
“As I have said, I have no wish to be a widow. I have no wish to kill you either if I don’t have to. The truth is, my seamen may be loath to kill a woman, and then I might have to come up with more money, which would delay my plans. No. I shall stick with either getting you to write the letter, or killing Godwin,” Sara left this in the air.
Heather collected herself. What to do? Sara would kill him. She had believed the woman would rather him be dead than finding herself divorced. She had to pretend to accept. She would do what Sara wanted for now…and then Godwin would find her, come for her. He would not believe she had left him. She would write the letter, and even if Sara’s men actually forced her to travel with them to her home, Godwin would come for her.
“It would appear, my lady,” Heather said, “you have left me no choice.”
Sara smiled. “That is quite correct. You are out of choices, have been since you decided to bed a married man. I am the one who has been wronged. Not you!”
That was doing it too brown for Heather. “You have wronged Godwin from the start. He told me the entire sordid story. He knows you are the one who tore him from Lisa. He knows all the while he courted you, you bedded a gypsy. You have wronged him, and I have made him happy.”
“Naïve girl. Happiness is a fleeting thing. You have had your months of happiness. It ends now, as it should, as mine did the moment I married Godwin.”
“Why did you marry him then?”
“For the title, for the wealth!” Sara screamed. “Certainly not because he was exciting.”
“Not exciting?” Heather cried. “You are a fool.”
Sara’s hand lifted, but she seemed to get control and dropped it to her side. “Sit down at the desk. Take up the ink and quill there…oh, you can write, can’t you?”
Heather did not answer, but took a chair, pulled out writing paper from the desk drawer and undid the lid of the inkwell.
Sara said, “Yes, now, write as I tell you. Let’s start with…
“Darling,
Too many are hurt by what we have done. I have shamed my family and friends and must go. It is over between us. Indeed, it never was. Do not try to find me.
Heather”
Sara picked up the letter, aired, folded, and concealed it within her dark cloak. She turned back to Heather and her voice was full with hatred. “Miss Martin, it is now time for you to go to your destiny…where you belong.”
“I am far too weary to journey tonight, my lady,” Heather answered, eyeing her worriedly. It suddenly occurred to her that the seamen on horseback outside had not come with Sara to lay in wait on Godwin. Heather realized that Sara had carefully planned the outcome of this meeting. The seamen weren’t here to murder Godwin. Heather suddenly knew beyond a shadow of doubt that those seamen were here to take her away…somewhere Godwin would not easily find her.
“If you don’t mind, my lady, I shall not leave Cornwall until the morning,” Heather said.
“Fool! Do you think I would leave you to your own devices? Did you really think I could be so gulled? You will never see your lover again, mark me on that, but you will see others, and in a French bordello. You will have many others to keep you pleasured. You are going to a French bordello…just across the channel. Ah, I see you believe me, and when those men there are done with your body, even your precious Godwin will turn his back on you.”
Heather jumped away from her and snarled, “Get out!”
Sara laughed. “My men outside wait only for me to signal them. They are well paid and will be taking you now to the harbor.”
“No one would do such a thing—it is unthinkable!” Heather said as genuine fear clutched at her insides. “Why, this is monstrous.”
“Again, you know nothing about greed. Money equates all things. These men are going to sell you, my dear, to a choice brothel. They will get paid well, and you will be able to use your many talents,” Sara said on a sneer as she moved towards the door and opened it wide.
Heather watched Sara motion to one of the men. Heather started for the hall that led to a back door, but before she could reach it, the seaman had her in hand. She kicked and screamed and begged him to let her go.
“Please, sir, you cannot do this. You cannot mean to abduct me and…no, you don’t realize. I am an Englishwoman, niece to the local vicar—”
“I am sorry for it, but you are coming with us. I always complete a job I am paid to do, and my job is to take you in hand and get you…well, across the channel,” the man said without sympathy.
“Tell her, Colin…tell her where she will end up across the channel,” Sara said in a taunting voice.
“She’ll find out soon enough, darlin’,” Colin answered.
“But…I will get you a larger fee if you don’t do this,” Heather cried.
“Will you? And how would you do that? I’d have to let you go and there is no telling what would happen after that. No, come along now, or do I need to knock you out to keep you quiet? I don’t hold with hitting a woman—goes against the grain, but if you need to be silenced, well then, I see you understand.”
Heather kept quiet. If he knocked her out, she would have no chance at escape. “Just one thing, sir, you must have a heart…?”
“Aye, I did once, but life got in the way,” he said, and pick pulled her along. “Don’t fight me, woman, or it will go badly for you.”
She believed he would knock her out, so she kept quiet for the moment.
Outside, he called, “Bunky, get over here and tie her wrists while I hold her in place.”
A lad, Heather thought no more than eighteen or so, got off his horse and walked over. He looked unhappy and kept his eyes lowered.
The other man shoved some rope at him and said, “Come on, lad, we have to hurry now.”
Heather began screaming as she fought and managed to break free from his hold. She lifted her skirts and ran with every ounce of strength she had. She heard the two seamen closing in at her back. There was nowhere to escape them, but if only she could run far enough, run and stall until Godwin arrived.
“Colin, no!” the lad he had called Bunky called as Colin’s lunge brought her face down onto the ground. She turned her head and looked up at him, and his fist was raised.
Evidently Bunky’s shout stopped him, and he said, “I warned you, sweetheart. I will hurt you to keep you quiet.” He hauled her to her feet.
She was winded as he dragged her back to the horses. She noted that no horse was provided for her. Were they going to drag her along? Would she then be able to escape? Would someone see them?
But, no, he handed her off to the lad. “Bunky…she rides with you.”
“I don’t hold with this, Colin. No…this is not the line of work I signed up for,” Bunky said on a grumble.
“You signed up as a mate. I’m fond of you and you have served me well, but remember, lad, you take your orders from me. I make the decisions around here.” He put an affectionate hand around the boy’s skinny neck. “Now, gag and truss her up. Can’t have her screaming over the countryside.”
Sara handed the second man a linen napkin, which Bunky gently used to gag Heather, saying softly to her, “There now, miss, don’t struggle so and it will go better for ye.”
“Shut up, Bunky, don’t talk to the mort,” Colin snapped. “She isn’t an innocent in this, I told you that, so try and remember it.”
Heather tried to calm herself. She looked at Bunky, who appeared extremely uncomfortable in his role as co-abductor. She couldn’t believe he was already a hardened criminal. Could she appeal to him to let her escape?
She saw a blush steal onto Bunky’s cheeks, but as he took Heather’s arm, he whispered, “There now, ye be looking at me like I’m some kind of devil and I’m that sorry I am, but…I don’t have a choice.”
“Bunky…take her up on your horse with you now and don’t dawdle,” Colin yelled. “Right then, we had better be making pace to our boat.”
A few minutes later, Heather heard Sara laughing as she mounted the horse and sat straddling as best she could with her hands behind her back. Bunky mounted behind her and said, “I’ll try not to make ye too uncomfortable, miss…this is not to m’liking. Fiend seize it all…not to m’liking. Smuggling is one thing, but abducting a fine woman such as yerself, even if ye did steal that one’s husband…well, I just don’t hold with it.”
Heather didn’t see the point in struggling just then. What would be the advantage? She had nowhere to run. They would be on her and Colin would make good on his promise to knock her out, and then she would surely be lost. No, she simply had to wait for a better opportunity.
She was sick with fright, and had but one hope—Godwin. He would never believe that she had willingly left him. He would know better. He would find her. He had to find her. But dusk had set in and he would not see the horses’ tracks this evening. Tomorrow would be too late.
She was with child—his child, and he would never give up looking for her. He would not believe the note Sara was going to give him, even though he would know it was in her hand. He would suspect something. He simply had to have faith that she would not leave him.
She turned in the saddle and saw Sara watching, a smile wide across her face as they walked their horses off. She wouldn’t give up hope. She couldn’t, and yet she had an awful feeling in the pit of her being.