Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

England

“What the hell do you mean you are starting your own racing stable? What happened to you over in those bloody colonies? I had hoped that you would come back a man, but I guess I was wrong.” Spittle flew from the mouth of the man in the chair. Lucien stood at attention in front of his father as he was yelled at.

“Just what I said. I am leaving Stokley and going home to Heartstone. I will build my stables there. I am also taking Devonna with me.” His pronouncements made his stepmother gasp with shock.

“Why would you wish to go there? The ladies are in London. If you leave, then you will not find a bride.” Her high-pitched, whiney voice grated on his nerves.

“That’s it? That is all you have to say? Don’t go so I can find a bride. What about your daughter?”

“She stays,” yelled his stepmother.

“Take the stupid bitch. All she does is stare out of the window. It is embarrassing. Take her with my blessing.” The venom in his father’s voice was a punch to the gut. His stepmother backed down under the glare of her husband.

“We will be gone within the hour.”

He walked out of the room as he swore under his breath. It had been like this ever since he had returned from America. His father had more nice words for the horse than for his own son. He had at least been pleased with the horse.

Lucien climbed the stairs to his sister’s room and knocked on the door. He opened it a little and stuck his head in. “Devonna? Are you in here?” He heard movement by the window and entered the room.

His sister sat in silence by the window dressed in a drab black gown. Her hair was lifeless and dull. He sat on a cushion by her and tried not to show how her cringing away from him hurt.

“Devonna. I am going to take you with me to Heartstone. It’s in the country. I think that you will like it there. Wide open spaces, woods, lakes. What do you think? Would you like to go with me?”

Although her face remained impassive and still, Lucien told himself that he caught a flicker of hope in those eyes. Something had happened to his sister. She used to be so full of life and laughter.

He reached out to pat her on the arm and she visibly flinched away from him. Careful to keep his face straight, he pulled his hand back and smiled at her.

“We leave in an hour. I will have your things packed.”

He exited and, as the door shut, the caring brother was gone, leaving in his place a marquess that whipped out orders as fast as his mouth would work.

They were headed to Heartstone in just under an hour. He was shocked at how little clothing his sister had. They rode together in the carriage for a six-hour ride. He would have preferred to be on horseback but he thought he should spend some time with his sister.

“Are you excited, Devonna? I think it will be a grand adventure. Do you remember the adventures we took as children?”

He watched her face for any sign of recognition and found none. If anything, she withdrew farther into herself.

“I am going to start a stable for racers. Would you like to have a horse of your own? Or maybe a dog, or cat?” When she didn’t answer, he just plodded on with the one-sided conversation. “Well, let me know. Would you like to hear of my time in America?”

That time he knew he caught a glimmer of excitement. “Well, you know,” he said even though she didn’t, “I had to go get a racer from America for Father. The town I had to go to was called Paradise Cove. Very small, very quaint. The people there were all different and yet they treated each one the same. I met an old woman, which is the one I got the horse from, and she reminded me of a grandmother that we used to hear about in stories. Always smiling and ready with hugs.

“Well, I took the horse, the one I brought back—his name is Colonial Star—out for a ride. I was not as good a rider as I had thought for he got away from me and took me high into the mountains. Then a bear came and attacked us.”

Devonna tried to pretend she wasn’t interested but he caught the look on her face. Lucien suppressed a smile as he continued.

“When I woke up I was in a cabin. The whole thing was not much bigger than a receiving room at Stokley. I was alone and the first thing I saw was a woman. She had saved me. Her name is Ciara. She had found me and carried me back to her cabin.” At his sister’s look of disbelief he did smile, and nodded. “It’s true. She lived there all alone and we were stuck there together because the snows came and we couldn’t leave.”

There was a panicked look in his sister’s eyes at the mention of him being alone with a woman. A clue perhaps why she was so withdrawn. “Well, I shouldn’t say alone. She had a wolf for a pet. And while I was there, she also got a mountain lion kitten. She also had horses. She wore pants and did things like a man.”

She may have done things like a man, but there were some things that she did which were all woman. He brought his focus back on his sister and continued with his story. He noticed that she listened with wide eyes.

“She taught me all about the woods, how to trap animals—which was really messy—and how to survive a winter in the mountains.”

That wasn’t all she had taught him, but his sister didn’t need to know that.

“I think you would like Ciara, Devonna. She is a very kind person. She loves life and smiles and laughs a lot.” He saw tears well up in his sister’s eyes. “She is supposed to send me a horse for my stable.” He broke off as tears began to stream down his sister’s face.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. She flinched back. That was getting old.

“Devonna. You have to know that I am not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

Devonna wedged herself back into a corner of the carriage and watched him with scared eyes. When they stopped to rest the horses, he got out and rode on his gray gelding to leave her alone in the carriage. Damn, he wished he knew what was wrong.

They arrived at Heartstone in the early evening. As he rode up the drive, his heart swelled. This was where he would make a name for himself. The servants were all lined up to wait for him. They waited for a chance to see the famed Black Marquess.

He dismounted at the steps and issued orders to his man of affairs. He helped his sister down out of the carriage after steeling himself for her wince. He took her to her rooms, which were on the opposite wing of the home from his.

As he opened the door to her suite of rooms, he peered at her. Her eyes skimmed over the room, going instead to the big window that had extra thick cushions placed in front of it. The room was done in a pale lilac with dark blue accents. There was a large bed and lots of space for her things, which he realized she didn’t have many of. Why not?

“I will come for you at dinner.” Her eyes flew wide with fright and she stumbled backward. “Devonna? What’s wrong?”

He reached out to her and she put her shaking hand in his. Lucien could see that she was mortified and scared beyond belief but she didn’t disobey his hand reaching for hers.

“Maybe you would wish to take a walk or get some sleep. I will see you in a bit.”

Lucien left the room and realized that he was shaking. From anger. He kept his counsel until he found his man of affairs getting ready to leave. Why is my sister so petrified of me? Although they couldn’t be classified as close, he had never done anything to hurt her.

“Foley. A word.”

“Yes, my lord?” Foley was a thin man. Very competent and loyal.

“What the hell happened in that house when I was gone?”

“My lord? To what are you referring?”

“The treatment of my sister. What the hell did they do to her there?”

“I am not sure. I know that when you were gone your brother was there a lot. Your family did not see fit to include me in many of the discussions.”

“Find out.”

“Yes, my lord.” He took his leave and rode away from Heartstone.

* * * *

America

“Are you going to let him know?” Marie’s question invaded her thoughts.

“No,” Ciara said with a very determined look at the woman who was questioning her.

“He has a right to know. We both know that.”

“Maybe someday. Not now.”

“Child. You should tell him.” Her tone was unusually sharp for Marie, the woman she viewed as a surrogate mother.

Ciara looked at the old woman and smiled. A smile full of serenity and calmness, one that belied the rolling of her insides at the mention of ‘the man.’

“This child is mine. I am not ready to tell him.”

Him. Lucien. The man who still invaded her dreams. The father of her unborn child.

“Tell him.” Angelique spoke, which surprised them both.

Ciara shook her head at Angelique. Marie clucked in disapproval and rose. “The quilt he sent from you was beautiful. Thank you.”

“You know I like making things for you. It was my pleasure.” Ciara’s mind drifted to the time she had spent with Lucien. He had never been far from her mind.

“He had nothing but good things to say about you and now I know why.” Marie gestured to her protruding belly.

“Marie. Shame on you.” Ciara felt the heat of her blush rush across her face. “I brought you some honey. The first batch I had.”

“You should not be riding around in those mountains. Not when you’re about to give birth.” The older woman respected her desire to change the subject.

“I am fine. Besides, I never go anywhere without Faolan and Kosse. They would die before they let anything happen to me.”

“How is that old wolf? And that little devil cat?”

“They are both fine. You know you could go open the door and let them in.”

“And have animal fur in the house? Never.”

“Don’t ever change, Marie. I couldn’t stand it. I have to get going.”

Ciara rose, kissed both women on the cheeks and walked outside with them. She whistled and Nyama came from the thicket where he waited. He stood as she awkwardly mounted him. Her belly had already begun to get in the way.

“Come before the birth. You shouldn’t be alone then.”

Marie reached out and handed her a money pouch with a seal embroidered on the side that caused Ciara’s heart to skip a beat.

As she traced the pattern on the money pouch, Ciara acknowledged them with a wave of her hand then she headed home, her mind focused on past memories. As soon as she entered the woods a glossy black wolf and a lustrous, albeit gangly mountain lion placed themselves on either side of the stallion.

* * * *

As the time of her impending birth grew closer, she fluctuated back and forth about going down to Marie’s. One day the decision was made for her. Marie and Angelique showed up at her cabin. How they knew where it was, she would never know. How the old ladies made the journey alone, she would also never know.

They couldn’t have timed it better. Within the week she gave birth. She gave birth to a boy. She named him Brenden Kumi McKay. He was a beautiful boy. His skin had a golden tint to it, but he was still lighter than his mother. He had a head of thick black hair and his eyes were blue. Well, they were the shade identical to his father’s. A deep midnight blue that could penetrate your soul.

Kosse and Faolan loved him and he became a member of the group. They took care of him when she had work to do. Later that same winter, she found that Epona had been successful with her breeding to Nyama and so she expected a foal late fall the next year.

The years passed, and as Brenden grew, her heart ached each time she looked at him. He was a very bright child who grew up able to speak all the languages she did. One autumn five years after the birth of her son, Bryn, she found that Epona was carrying again. Her other foals had all been fillies. Still she waited for the first colt. The next fall came, and when Epona gave birth, she bore a colt. Black like his father with a white lightning-bolt pattern on his left haunch. She had no more excuses. It was time to go. She trembled at the thought.

The colt was weaned at six months and she gathered the eldest daughter of Epona, whom she had named Artemis, her sister Angel, Brenden’s gelding Toka, along with the colt. She, her son, the four horses, a black wolf and a mountain lion, no longer gangly, headed to catch the first ship to England to deliver on a promise that had been made seven years earlier.

The traveling group attracted much attention, in particular the horses, but the presence of the large black wolf seemed to deter any people that would think to take them even though his muzzle was grizzled, a testament to his age. If the wolf alone wasn’t enough then the mountain lion, a lush deep red tipped with copper brown, which was no awkward little cub but a sleek animal whose every movement spoke of raw power, got the message across.