Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

The carriage rolled to a stop, and Evangelina fought to keep her stomach. Her mouth filled with the taste of metal. The Earl reached out and grabbed her chin, yanking her face toward him.

“Listen to me, girl,” he grunted. “Do not make trouble for me with this. Do exactly as you’re told; I still haven’t ruled out cutting off your tongue.”

Evangelina resisted the urge to stick said tongue out at him, saving her resistance for the time it would do her the most good. The door opened and Mrs. Jenkins exited first, practically pulling Evangelina with her. They approached a small church, a Scottish church, and Evangelina’s stomach lurched. She thought of her wedding to Zeke, their soft vows exchanged in his family’s home, and how she had been a little disappointed that there wasn’t more romance, more pomp and circumstance. How very foolish. Here she was at a church, and she would have given anything to be back in that parlor.

The Earl shoved her inside, and Mrs. Jenkins was half the reason Evangelina stayed upright as she stumbled into the structure. It was far from shabby, but it was not grand. The sunlight warmed the interior, but Evangelina felt a draft of cold from inside herself that passed through her like a specter. Standing at the far end of the church was a fully frocked priest, and a man, shorter than the earl, black haired, with a cruel mouth and an imposing frame. Evangelina gulped, telling herself not to show fear.

If she had hoped this man would be an ally, from a first impression, she was likely mistaken. But Evangelina would not waste what she expected would be her last opportunity.

“Bring her forward,” said the man.

“Macrannock,” the Earl nodded, dragging Evangelina by her arm down the aisle in a horrid parody of a father walking his daughter to the altar.

“Claymore,” the man answered, eyeing Evangelina in a way that made her want to burrow into herself and hide from his gaze. “This her?”

“In the flesh,” the Earl shoved Evangelina forward, making her stumble and nearly drop to her knees, barely managing to keep herself upright as she sought balance.

“Very well,” said the man curtly. “She’ll do.”

Evangelina had one chance, so she raised her eyes to him and took it. “Sir! Sir, please! I’m already married!”

The man looked to Claymore and then to Macrannock. “The lass is already wed?”

“No,” the Earl bit out. “Not any longer, at least.”

Macrannock eyed him. “You’ve taken care of it?”

“Thoroughly,” replied Claymore coolly.

“He hasn’t!” shrieked Evangelina. The Earl reached out and snatched her, his grip on her threatening to break her arm. But she went on. “I’m wed, legally! Under sight of God and by the laws of man, Ezekiel Marston is my husband and I can have no other!”

The crack of the Earl’s hand across her face came so fast Evangelina didn’t even flinch. She staggered backward, the blow harder than any he’d yet dealt, her free hand reaching up to her mouth and coming away slick and red. Evangelina felt woozy, the only thing keeping her on her feet Claymore’s iron grip.

“I killed him,” hissed Claymore.

“No,” murmured Evangelina. “No!”

The Earl raised his hand to hit her again, but Macrannock stopped him.

“Let the girl speak,” he snapped.

Evangelina nearly crumpled with relief. The Earl let her go and Evangelina hastily stepped toward Macrannock. Perhaps her first impression had been wrong, and he would be good and kind and helpful.

“My husband is alive. The Earl shot at him, but it was not a fatal wound,” said Evangelina, her balance and her voice growing stronger by the minute. As she spoke the words, they sounded true. “I cannot wed you, sir, so you must let me go.”

The man searched her eyes for a moment, and she saw well and truly that he believed her. Hope soared in her chest for the first time in hours.

“I will not wed another man’s wife, Claymore, and you promised me a pretty virgin for a bride,” Macrannock leveled a gaze at the Earl, then wrapped an arm around Evangelina waist.

She cried out in shock as he dragged her against his body, burying his face into her hair and squeezing her inordinately tight around the middle. She gasped and kicked, but he held fast.

“Still,” Macrannock said, unperturbed by the flailing of the woman he held captive. “She’s a handsome creature. I’ll bet she’s sweeter than chocolate when you get her skirts up. I’ll give you a tenth what we talked about, for a mistress rather than a wife.”

Evangelina bellowed, trying to shove her elbow into the man’s belly and force him to release her, but it was no use. His grip was iron.

“Half,” Claymore countered.

“No!” she wailed, but she was ignored. Evangelina could feel her freedom, her very life, slipping away from her.

Macrannock snorted. “Are you mad? You should be happy I’m even willing to still take her off your hands.”

Would they come for her again? Would they even be able to find her? Evangelina was sure that Samira would never rest, never stop looking, but if she vanished, nameless and friendless, into the interior of the Highlands, it could be months, years, before they tracked her down. And what horrors would she have to endure until they did? Even if they came to rescue her, once she was locked away in whatever place Macrannock had in mind, would it be possible for them to rescue her at all? For Zeke to save her, if he even still drew breath?

The Earl grinded his teeth. “A fourth, then.”

“A fifth, and that’s my final offer,” Macrannock replied. “And only because she looks so very ripe, even if she’s already used.”

“Deal,” the Earl nodded.

Just as the Earl was about to reach out his hand, he went still as a statue. Evangelina felt Macrannock stiffen behind her, his every muscle rigid.

“Excuse me, Padre,” the darkly handsome man materialized seemingly from nowhere and strode down the aisle toward them. “Where is the part of the ceremony where one objects?”

The priest was white-faced as Evangelina’s rescuer leveled a gun at him as well.

“Because we have some very serious objections,” said the man Evangelina recognized as the one who had been with Zeke when he’d rescued her.

The Earl moved slightly, and the figure behind him was revealed. Evangelina gasped at the sight of Zeke, a little pale and with a sling holding up his right arm, but standing before her, alive. He wasn’t looking at her, his gun and eyes trained on Claymore.

“I suggest you get out while you can, sir,” said the voice of another man, a blonde with straight hair pulled back in a queue, slight and stiff-spined, who had a gun on Macrannock and spoke to his target. “Before I give you more holes than a French whore.”

The first man grinned at that as Macrannock snorted and turned on his heel, apparently deciding all this far more worry than it was worth. Evangelina felt her heart lighten. Her rescuers were practically laughing, and it was all of them against the Earl; she was nearly saved.

“Go on and take her out of here,” a familiar, accented voice said from behind Evangelina. “Yer friends and I will make sure ye arena followed. Aye?”

Magnus stepped forward and trained a gun on his own father. “Dinna move a muscle.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” demanded the Earl. “Get them!”

“I brought them here,” said Magnus stiffly. “Ye willna hurt my sister any longer. Nor me.”

The Earl narrowed his eyes at Magnus. “I should have drowned you like your mother wanted me to.”

Evangelina watched the color drain from Magnus’s face.

“I dinna believe ye,” he said, though he clearly did.

Claymore chuckled. “She thought I wouldn’t want to fuck her anymore if she had a babe suckling at her breast. She was half right – I was done with her. But you were a strapping lad. If I’d known you would be such a fucking disappointment–”

A crack resounded through the church, and the Earl crumpled to the floor. Zeke held the gun by the barrel, wielding it like a club and dropping the Earl at their feet. Zeke looked to Magnus then, his eyes full of something unreadable and deep.

“I promised I wouldn’t kill him,” Zeke said. “But he more than deserved that.”

Mangus only nodded, hardly looking better than he had when his father had spoken such ugly words. Finally, Evangelina felt the force of Zeke’s gaze on her once more. Her heart stopped in her chest, then tripped over itself trying to beat again.

“Evangelina,” he whispered.

“Zeke!” Evangelina gasped, throwing herself against him.

He let out a pained sound, and she jerked back.

“Where are you hurt?” she asked.

“Just my arm,” he shook his head. “It’s little more than a scratch. Come on, there’s no time to waste.”

“Of course,” Evangelina wrapped her arm around his waist, then glanced at the other men, her gaze landing on Magnus. “Thank you.”

He gave her a nod, and she and Zeke rushed out of the church, clasping to each other as if their lives depended on it. In so many ways, it seemed true.

“How well do you ride?” he asked.

She frowned. “I can stay on, I think, if we go slow.”

Zeke nodded. “I just can’t hold you. We’ll go by horseback and get across the border, then when we find somewhere to stay, we can hire a coach for the way back.”

Evangelina nodded, coming up to a pair of horses. “Are you all right to ride by yourself?”

He chuckled ruefully. “I rode all the way here, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Evangelina whispered.

Zeke turned to her then, cocking his head as he looked down at this woman.

“You saved me,” Evangelina said.

To her immense joy, a pinkish color tinted the tips of his ears and his cheeks. “Yes, well, you are my wife.”

The word bloomed in Evangelina like a glorious flower, and she broke into a smile. “Yes, I am.”

With a small, eager sound, Zeke wrapped his good arm around her waist and hauled her to him. Her lip was sore, but it didn’t matter. She had him with her, had her husband, her rescuer, her knight in shining armor. Her love. He was with her, and she was back in his arms, and as long as that was true, all would be well.

Evangelina watched Zeke warily, making sure he was not showing any ill effects of his gunshot as they rode across the landscape. Other than the obvious favoring of his arm and a bit of paleness in his pallor, he seemed remarkably well. Her greatest fears began to ebb; even if Zeke was not exactly in his healthiest condition, he wasn’t going to die.

They spoke very little as they rode, crossing the border as quickly as they could with Zeke’s injury and Evangelina’s lack of prowess on horseback. As soon as they set foot on English soul, Evangelina could practically feel Zeke’s sigh of relief.

“How are you feeling?” asked Zeke. “Do you want to go on today?”

Evangelina shifted in the saddle. She was sore, some from the ride and remains of the night before. Her body screamed for something to eat, some rest, to have Zeke next to her in safety. She had not relaxed in days, but she did not want to risk being retaken.

“Are we safe if we stopped?” she asked.

Zeke hesitated, and Evangelina could feel him debating what to tell her.

“I am not a child, Ezekiel,” Evangelina quipped, not wanting to risk having things go back to the way they were before everything. “After all I have been through, after all we’ve done, at least tell me the truth.”

Even if the kidnapping had been the worst experience of Evangelina’s life, she did not want her and her husband to lose the ground she felt they’d gained.

Zeke nodded then. “Of course. I think we will be safe, yes, but I think we would be safer surrounded by our family. And yet, we were in London before and he still took you. Nathaniel will be able to keep the Earl for a while, and he successfully scared off the other man, but I wouldn’t say that makes everything safe. Magnus is going to try to convince his father to go back to Scotland, but I’m not sure how well that will work.”

Evangelina nodded slowly. “I see.”

“I’m sorry,” said Zeke quietly.

“For what?” asked Evangelina.

He smiled bitterly. “I promised your brother I wouldn’t kill the Earl in cold blood. Like a fool, I put my honor above all else, even your safety. I should have killed the man when I got the chance, and now you would be safe.”

Her heart squeezed. “But you would not be. Killing a peer is no light thing; you could hang for it.”

Zeke set his jaw. “And you would have been safe.”

“Yet without my husband,” Evangelina urged her horse closer, close enough so she could touch his hand with hers. “So my safety would be worth far less. I want a life with you, Zeke, and I do not want you taken from me for killing that man, not physically or spiritually. I know you, even if it has just been for this short time. If you had killed him, it would have eaten you up inside for the rest of your life. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Are you sure?” Zeke asked. “Rowan wouldn’t have even hesitated. “Nathaniel Blake, even Joel, I think, could have ended the man and not looked back.”

Tears stung at Evangelina’s eyes. “They are not you, Zeke. It is your goodness, your desire to make the world better and more beautiful, that is so precious. You sought to save me not with violence or hate toward those who would hurt me, but love and protection toward me. That is revolutionary indeed, and it is brave. Your heart is who you are, and I would not change it for anything.”

Zeke clasped her hand with his good one and brought her fingers to his lips. “You, my dear, redeem me at every turn.”

Evangelina smiled then, turning her hand to cup his cheek. He leaned his face into her touch and closed his eyes at the sensation.

“So,” he said softly after a moment in tender embrace. “What shall we do?”

Evangelina glanced down at his wound, the blood stains that made her extremely nervous. “We need to stop. I need a meal and sleep, and you need the same. I am going to look at that wound, if not have a doctor do so.”

She had never experienced anything like a bullet wound, but she thought the principle was likely the same with the scrapes she’d helped her mother tend to on Samira.

Zeke nodded. “Yes, that is probably wise. We will stop at the first inn we come upon and take rooms.”

Evangelina nodded in answer, pleased that he thought her plan a good one, that he had listened to her. They rode on, compromising in taking several of the back roads that would be slower but would be much harder to discern which place they were at if anyone did decide to follow them. When at last they reached a small, roadside inn, they halted the horses. A young stable lad came darting forward, offering to take the horses for them.

“Thank you,” said Zeke, pressing a coin into the boy’s hand. “Take good care of them.”

“Yessir,” the boy, who was likely only ten or eleven, said quickly, his eyes darting to Evangelina. “Um, madam?”

Evangelina smiled indulgently down at him. “Yes?”

“May I ask…what happened to you?” he asked.

Instinctively, Evangelina reached up to touch her face, the faint swelling where the Earl had struck her, the split in her lip that still stung. “Oh, I–”

“I ain’t never seen anybody with skin that dark,” he said quietly. “Even my Pa, he works the fields every day and he just gets red as a tomato.”

“Hush your impertinence!” Zeke snapped.

Evangelina laid a stilling hand on Zeke, appreciating his protectiveness, but she smiled down at the boy. She had not had any such questions at the previous inns on their journey, but she had kept her head down and been secreted off to a room and locked up there in a few moments. No one had the chance to really even look at her, let alone question. But Evangelina did not mind the boy’s ignorance.

“It is because my mother is from a beautiful, exotic place called India,” she said. “Have you heard of it?”

His eyes went even wider. “Aye. What’s it like?”

“Well, I’ve never been there,” she said. “But my skin was designed by God to protect me and people like me from the sun, because it’s very hot there. So I do not turn into a tomato when there is lots of sun.”

He furrowed his brow. “Then why doesn’t it go away when you’re here?”

“It does get lighter when I stay out of the sun, then darker if I stay out in it for a long time,” explained Evangelina. “It’s the way I was made, just like you were made to freckle.”

She lightly tapped his nose and was rewarded with a toothless smile.

“I see, mum,” he gave a little nod.

“Off with you now,” Evangelina said quietly, giving the boy a wink.

He took the horses across the yard, and Zeke put his arm around her. “You are very sweet to entertain him.”

“He’s just a boy,” said Evangelina quietly. “It is difficult when one has never met anyone different than oneself. But it does – nevermind.”

Zeke furrowed a brow. “Yes?”

“Well, it’s only that it might be something the adults about have more trouble with, if they have also never met anyone like me,” said Evangelina softly. “Sometimes where children are curious, the same uncertainty creates hatefulness in their parents.”

Zeke looked around them at the rather idyllic place. “Here?”

Evangelina just nodded, trying not to worry about anything before it happened. If anything even happened. It did no good to fret beforehand.

“Don’t worry,” Zeke squeezed her tighter to him, noticing her expression. “Money talks. They won’t be rude to paying customers.”

Evangelina’s smile wobbled. If only he knew…but she could protect him from this truth as he protected her, so she let it be. She’d seen how upset he got at the boy’s innocent questioning, so if Zeke never had to know the truth of what it meant to grow up as she did, so much the better.

“Let’s see if we can find something to eat, then,” Evangelina said, happy to change the subject.

Zeke kissed her forehead, and she smiled honestly. Having him close, his body warm and solid beside her, his casual touches, they made everything else fade into obscurity. All that mattered was them, and they were together. They moved toward the door of the inn, and Zeke pulled it open for her. They stepped inside and found a central room occupied with five other patrons, as well as a barmaid and the innkeeper.

“Hullo,” Zeke nodded, reaching up to doff a hat he quickly realized he wasn’t wearing. “Some luncheon, if you please.”

There was a long beat of silence, and a familiarly hateful prickling of awareness crept up Evangelina’s spine.

“I suggest you move along,” said one man who was sitting with another at a table.

Zeke gave him a strange look. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s just go,” Evangelina hissed to him.

Zeke ignored her. “Sir, I am speaking to you.”

The man acted as though Zeke had not said a word. Zeke turned to the innkeeper then.

“We will take a hot meal, whatever you’re serving, and a room,” he said coolly.

Evangelina tugged at his sleeve, the awareness jolting into outright fear as she looked at the faces of two of the other men sitting with the first, and the expression of the innkeeper. “Come on, Zeke.”

"We don’t serve the likes of her in here," the innkeeper sneered, stepping a little forward. "This is a good place with God fearing folks. You and your whore can go."

Zeke bristled at that. "First off, she’s my wife. Secondly," he stepped forward and Evangelina tried to keep him back. "Perhaps you should fear me more than whatever god teaches you such inhumanity, because my wrath is far closer at hand than his."

"Zeke," Evangelina breathed. "It’s not worth it. It happens all the time, and you won’t change them."

“Wise words,” said a deep voice from the back of the room, where the last two patrons sat.

Zeke and Evangelina both turned to find an older man with a shock of white hair and dazzling green eyes looking at them as he rose. He was certainly approaching sixty, but with a fit physique and a kind face despite the ominous nature of his announcement.

“You are right that discretion is the better part of valor, my dear,” the man nodded, approaching them fully and wholly nonthreatening, with a sad smile on his face. “But I must say that I am ashamed to call myself a member of this village if this is how we treat weary travelers. Did not the Lord himself tell us to be kind to strangers, lest we be entertaining angels in our midst?”

He turned to Evangelina and smiled. “And no more likely a candidate for angel would there be than such a lovely young woman, and her husband.”

Evangelina nodded a little, her smile still faltering. Zeke drew her a little closer.

“We thank you sir,” Zeke nodded.

“Pierre DeRoche,” he introduced, shaking Zeke’s hand. “My daughter Heloise and I were just stopping here for a spot of tea after an excursion out of doors this morning, but if you would like to accompany us home, my cook can produce a hearty meal in no time. We also have a spare room for you, if you would like. It looks as though you could use a place to rest and recuperate.”

The daughter he spoke of rose from a nearby table. She had the look of her father, sweet features and bright green eyes, but with an abundance of black hair that stood out against her pale skin, as stark as her father’s white. She looked to be of an age with Evangelina, or rather younger.

“Yes,” she said, her voice sweet and tremulously earnest. “Please, do us the honor of dining with us.”

“We thank you heartily,” said Zeke.

“Good,” the man smiled. “We are but a short walk from the house, maybe a quarter mile, or if you two would prefer to ride…”

“We’ll walk the horses,” Zeke said. “Thank you for this.”

Pierre nodded, gesturing toward the door before giving a last, sour look to the innkeeper, who responded with a curled lip. Their surprise rescuer only turned away and ushered Zeke, Evangelina, and his daughter out.

“Giving good in the world is why we are placed onto it,” Pierre said softly. “I would hope someday, someone would show the same hospitality to my girl should she have need of it, and to my own son, God keep him.”

“Where is your son, sir?” asked Evangelina as they stepped into the inn yard and a bit of lightness returned to her.

“He’s headed to Liverpool to ship out in a week,” said Pierre with pride. “An officer in the Navy.”

“You must be extremely proud,” said Evangelina.

“I am certainly that,” Pierre puffed up his chest.

Evangelina glanced over to the young woman as Zeke stepped away from Evangelina’s side to go fetch the horses they’d just relinquished. Pierre went with him, leaving the ladies together for a brief moment.

“Do you miss your brother?” asked Evangelina.

The young lady, Heloise, nodded quickly, her black curls bouncing. “Indeed I do, a great deal. He’s always been more than a brother, but my best friend, too.”

“That is such a treasure,” said Evangelina softly. “My own dear sister is the same for me.”

The two men returned quickly, each holding onto a horse’s reins. The stable lad hurried out after them and caught Evangelina’s eye, giving her a wave and a shy smile. Evangelina returned both, feeling a sense of hope in her breast in spite of everything that had happened inside.

“Just this way,” Pierre indicated. “Not too far.”