Bittersweet Endeavors (2 page)

“Then you understand that I aim to possess the title and
lands
of your father.”

Slowly, she
nodded again.  Biting hard onto the flesh of her bottom lip,
Myra
hoped
that she
prevent the quiver that unnerved her entire being.

“I’
ve heard The Duke
shows you great
favo
u
r
?” 

Myra
didn’t reply
and
Sir
Ashton
’s body
stiffened and
he
shouted impatiently
,
“
Tis
not an idle
question, you chit
!  Are you a
favourite
of The King’s brother, The Duke?”

“I
…
I,”
she
began, but when she watched the other man
heave
her mother’s lifeless body over the cliff, tears caught in her throat and she
was incapable of speech.

Her uncle’s hand slapped
Myra
hard across
her
face
and
he
reclaimed
her attention.  “Out with it!  Are you or are you not a
favourite
of James?”

Tears burned hot across her face. 
“
Aye
,” she sniffed.
“He and I are of common disposition.
Tis
why he shows me such kindness,
”
she uttered out.

She flinched at the loud clatter the carriage made when it pummeled down the cliff. 
It
was
final. 
They were gone from her life forever
.  The
memory
of her parents, alive and enjoying
life
entered her mind.  She recalled her father in their gardens, chasing
playfully
after her
with his
prominent
,
boisterous laugh
ter
.  And her dear, loving mother
,
whose beauty couldn
’
t be
ri
valed by any other
and who beheld
a voice so sweet that even birds were envious. 
Myra c
losed her eyes and
vowed
that
she’d
always remember them that
way
. 

“We must take leave before we
’re
met with someone traveling
across
this
lane
,” the s
urly man pressed.  “I say we do
‘
way with her now and b
e
gone.”

Her uncle didn’t reply.  A malevolent smile brushed across his lips and
Myra
feared the worst.  The wind stirred violently from the north and
strands
of
her
ebon
y hair sliced across her face.
She
brushed
them
away with a shaky hand. 
She prayed that if Sir Ashton would kill her, he’d make it swift and not as atrocious as
that of
her parents.

“I’ll not
risk The Duke’s wrath if we should be caught and her death on our hands,
” Sir
Ashton finally declared. 
“What do you propose we do with her?”

“I know of a trader who peddl
es indentures into the colonies,
”
Sir
Ashton’s partner
advised
.

“Hmm,” he considered.  He looked over her again, head to heel. 
“I’ve heard those
transports are quite grueling.
  Someone as frail as
she
mayhap not
even survive. I
f by chance she does, those savages there
shalt
take well enough care of her for us.  Either way, we’ll not have her blood on our
hands.
”

“S
he could
also
return and you’
ll
be ruined
.
”

Lord Ashton quirked a brow and eyed her carefully.  “
Tell me true, Lady
Myra
.  W
ould you
ever return
?”

Myra
’s tongue
wisped
nervously over
h
er lips
.  In
a hoarse whisper
,
she
promised
, “Never, I swear it.”

Her uncle’s partner snorted his disbelief and clamored in a foreign language until he finally looked at Sir Ashton. 
“You’
d take her word for it? 
Certainly you’re not that foolish!  I say we cut her tongue out ‘fore we hand her over. 
‘Twould
assure her silence!” 

The mere thought of such an atrocity made
Myra
cry out,
especially
when the man raised
his
knife and his
saber’s tip sliced
into he
r bottom lip.  Dear Lord, he
aimed to do exactly that!
Myra
screamed and struggled
hard
until h
er uncle pierced the man with a daggering stare that dulled the sharpness
of
the
blade. 
Myra
sighed with relief
when
the man hastily lowered his weapon.

“I’ve been told my brother
houses an
illegitimate
daughter
who’s
been birthed from a ma
id
who
died
during
childbirth
.  I
s what I hear true?” 
He moved
closer toward her,
and
his foul breath
cut through the
breeze
and
infringe
d
upon her senses. 
“Aye,” h
e
smiled wide.  “Mary, I believe her name
is
.
  I hear
you
two
are close, despite
she’s
a secret product of your father’s indiscretion.”

Myra
didn’t
answer, but
her body shuddered.  The involuntary action she
gave
conveyed
her
fear
and it
belied the
indifference
she
w
anted
relay
ed
to him
. 
She
wanted to be as
b
rave
as
her father
.
 
He wouldn’t have allowed such an
emotional
display
to
reveal
his true emotions.  Not even whilst that contemptible man raised
his
knife
at
h
er father’s
throat and stole
his life.  Indeed, he
looked him in the eye
,
spat in his face
,
and c
almly
vowed
he’d
find vengeance beyond the grave.

“
Aye
,
you know of who
m
I speak,”
Sir
Ashton
continued.
  “
And unlike you, The Duke’s protection does not extend to her
.”  Circling until he faced her back, he leaned down and draped his balding head over her shoulder.  In a scratchy, threatening tone, he gave warning.  “You do understand that she’ll be my charge now that my brother
is dead
?”

“Please, don’t hurt her,”
Myra
pleaded
.  “I
beseech
you!  I’ll do whatever you ask!”  With her parents gon
e, Mary
was
her only family
. 
Myra
quivered
at the thought of someone harming her
, for it had not
yet been a f
ortnight
that Mary
celebrated her
seventh
year.

Her uncle snickered, surely at her show of weakness.

“If you shall ever return or
expose the events
of this night to anyone, I’ll make sure that your sister faces the same fate as
my brother and his wife.  Yet, unlike your parents,
I’ll spare no
mercy.  I
t shall be
very slow
and
exceedingly
painful.
Do you understand?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Very well
,
then.”  He led
her to his awaiting carriage
and dramatically gestured with a wave of his arm for her
entrance
.  “Then we shall make way to the docks this very evening and be done with you once and for all.”

“
You should do as
I
advise and
cut out her tongue,” his cohort muttered angrily.  “Tis a decision
I
wager that
you’ll
one day
regret
if not, Ashton
.”

“Tis
Lord
Brunnington
now
,” he corrected harshly.  “It shall
serve
you well
in
remember
ing
that
.”

“As you will,
milord
.
”
  Th
e
man
followed his words with
a subservient bow of his head.  Then
,
with a
click
of his tongue, he hastened the horses into the fog-covered night.

*                     *                     *

Musty odors of sweat, stale air, and rotten meat permeated the stifled air inside the ship’s hull.  Yet, it
didn’t
mask the distinct smell of death
that
lingered all around her.   A child’s cry for his mother pierced her ears and
Myra
pressed herself protectively against the wooden frame of the ship. 
S
he
considered
how many people
stood
there
before her.  The men, women, and children whom shared her crowded quarters
appeared
mere shadows within the darkness
of the ship’s bowel
and
made count of them
difficult
.  Placed
up
on the ballast of the ship sat
the brick fireplace—
it was
their only source of heat and light.  It allotted little of either.

Using
the wool blanket
given
her
at time of boarding,
Myra
wrapped her arms tightly around her waist
and hoped
to safeguard
herself
against the cold that the December winds
presented
.  Again, she shivered against the chill of the night.  Her mind raced with worry and
Myra
wondered if she’d be yet another victim of the smallpox that befell so many of them.

“An
d
what does y
ou
know
!”  A large, robust woman called ou
t
and
her boisterous voice
pulled
Myra
from her reverie.
“That gal ov
er
there is ha
ving
somethin
g
I aims t
o have me
self!”

Myra
pressed herself deeper
within
the
protection of
shadows and prayed that the woman would leave her in peace.  Sh
e avoided any confrontation
the past three weeks since
they
had
left
port, but she feared her
good blessings
ran out.