The Gentle Wind's Caress (28 page)

Ethan glanced at the house. A flash of movement at the window was so brief he doubted he actually saw it. Then, the back door opened and his heart soared as Isabelle ran across the yard and hurled into his arms.

‘Hold me!’ Her sobs shook her body and she clung to him, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket. She buried her head into his chest.

‘Hush, my love. I’m here.’ He smoothed her hair and noticed it was lank and tangled. He tried to pull back to see her properly. ‘Isabelle…’

‘It’s been awful.’ She was crying so hard he could barely understand her.

‘My love.’ Forcing her from him, he gasped as he searched her gaunt face. She was terribly thin and fragile looking. Anger so swift and furious ignited, blinding him to all sense and reason. ‘That bastard I’ll kill him.’

‘No!’ She hung onto his arm as he marched for the house. ‘He’s not here.’

Ethan savagely pulled free of her hold. ‘Don’t lie to me! Don’t protect the coward. He’ll not live to see another day.’

‘He’s gone.’ Isabelle sank to her knees on the ground. What little colour she had, drained from her face leaving her ghost-like. ‘He took Bertie.’

‘Bertie?’

‘My youngest brother, remember?’

Ethan’s emotions swung from rage to tenderness. She looked like a broken flower flattened by a wild storm. Her black skirts billowed around her, the fading bruised cheek ugly against the paleness of her face. The light had vanished from her pale blue eyes taking with it her strength, her spirit, her soul. Her eyes had always told him her feelings and as he stared at her he knew she couldn’t cope with much more.

In one stride Ethan was beside her, kneeling before her on the dirt and stones. He folded her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. ‘Oh, my darling. Let me take you away from here. We’ll go anywhere you want.’

‘I can go no where until Bertie comes back.’

‘Tell me everything.’ He listened as she spoke of Farrell’s cruelty, the hardship of watching her father die, the house imprisonment, the selling of the animals to finance Farrell’s plans to sail to America, the lack of food and finally of his departure two days ago with Bertie as his hostage.

With every sentence, Ethan became more alarmed. He cursed himself for ever leaving her. Farrell was a madman and needed locking up. How she had suffered! ‘I’m so sorry you have endured this.’

‘I had no choice but to.’ She kissed him and he held her tight. ‘I would bear anything for you.’

He stood and drew her up and against him. He kissed her with a deep longing that he could no longer control. Her lips parted eagerly, wanting him, accepting him. She was so soft, so passionate. His tongue explored her mouth, familiarising his mind to her delights once more.

Raising his head, he smiled down at her. ‘I love you and we will never be apart again.’

She nestled into his shoulder and sighed.

Ethan rubbed her back. Her body fit into his naturally, as though they were made from the same mould. When he thought of Farrell touching her bile rose in his throat. He imagined knocking the man’s teeth down his throat and grunted with satisfaction at the idea.

‘But that is not all I have to tell you.’ Her voice brought him back from his tortured thoughts and recriminations.

‘There’s more?’

She nodded and traced her finger across his bottom lip, a faint smile played on her mouth. ‘I am with child. Your child.’

The news stunned him. It was the last thing he expected her to say. Ethan rocked back on his heels, staring at her in disbelief.

Her eyes narrowed and her chin rose. ‘You are not pleased.’

‘No. Yes.’ He blinked to clear his fuddled mind. ‘I didn’t anticipate such an announcement.

Her expression hardened. ‘You are angry.’ She stepped back out of the circle of his arms.

‘Isabelle.’ He took her hands in his and kissed each one in turn. ‘I am happy.’

The stiffness of her stance told him she didn’t believe a word.

He brought her back close to him and kissed her eyes, her nose and her mouth. ‘I’m shocked, and the timing isn’t ideal…’ A wry grin lifted one corner of his mouth. ‘But I’m delighted you carry my child.’

‘Really?’

‘Absolutely.’ His grin widened and sucked in a deep breath. ‘This changes everything.’

‘Ethan-’

‘No, you must listen.’ His hands gripped her shoulders tight. ‘I’ll not be discouraged in this. You are to gather your things and leave here today-’

‘I cannot!’ She shook her head and a desperate look came into her eyes. ‘Farrell has Bertie. If he returns and sees I’m not here… Well, I dread to think what he’d do to my brother.’

Frustration fired Ethan’s anger. ‘You believe I will let you stay here and await that madman’s return?’

‘We’ve no choice.’

‘Farrell won’t harm Bertie. He’ll use him as a tool.’

‘You have no notion of what Farrell is like.
You
haven’t lived with him!’ She flung away from him, her voice rising. ‘I won’t forsake Bertie. He’s a little boy, who is terrified and alone with Farrell. I cannot bear to think how he’s been treated these last two days. It’s my fault he’s out there!’

Abruptly, Neville Peacock strode from the house. ‘What the hell is going on? How did you get out, Belle?’

She shrugged. ‘I stole the keys while you were sleeping.’

Ethan frowned. ‘Who the hell is this?’

‘He’s Neville Peacock, Farrell’s new
helper
.’ Isabelle stepped in front of Ethan and faced Neville. ‘Go back inside. Mr Harrington is just leaving.’

‘I am not!’ Ethan pulled Isabelle out of the way with one hand and with the other he punched Neville on the jaw, knocking the man to the ground.

‘No, Ethan!’ Isabelle ran in front of Ethan again. ‘No more fighting. I’ve suffered enough of it!’

He grabbed her wrist and headed for the house. ‘You’re leaving here. Now.’

‘Ethan, no. I cannot.’

He swung her around to face him. ‘I won’t let you stay another moment.’

‘And I won’t go!’ Her face crumpled. ‘I need your help not your caveman antics.’

‘You expect me to leave you here?’ he shouted, aggravated at the uselessness he felt. ‘Do you want me to ride away?’

‘Please understand I can’t be with you until Bertie is safe.’

‘Then we’ll go to the authorities immediately. They can search for him.’

Her posture sagged. ‘We have no idea where they’ve gone. Farrell could be anywhere.’

‘The waiting is-’

She put her fingers to his mouth, silencing him. ‘I know, my love, I know. But there is nothing for it. I must wait until Bertie has returned and then somehow I’ll send word or we’ll escape and come to you.’

‘It’s dangerous. You’re carrying my child-’

‘She’s what?’ Neville had scrambled to his feet and now stared at her. ‘It’s not true.’

‘It is.’

A look of disgust flashed across his face. ‘Farrell doesn’t know, does he?’

She shook her head.

‘Farrell’s wife is having a Harrington brat.’ Neville laughed. The sound echoed around the still yard, mocking them.

***

Isabelle glanced at Hughie and Neville as she ate the tasty stew, thick with meat and vegetables. She was so hungry she had to control the urge to stuff herself in the shortest time possible. The food hamper from Bracken Hall arrived an hour ago and despite the delicacies that filled the basket, she had demanded that they would eat the stew first and leave the lighter, fancier food for later.

She also insisted that both Neville and Hughie bathe before dinner and while they did so, she unloaded the appetising goods and found, beneath a tray of apricot tarts, a small black velvet bag. Gold coins jingled inside.

‘Can I have more bread, Belle?’ Hughie asked.

Isabelle passed him the wooden cutting board on which sat the half loaf of bread and a knife. Against her thigh she felt the weight of the little bag every time she moved. She looked at Neville. ‘So, you are keen to go to America with Farrell?’

He lifted his head, his spoon poised mid air. ‘Aye.’

‘And what does your mother think of this? I can hardly see her agreeing to her only child going abroad.’

‘It’s nowt to do with her.’ Neville placed his spoon back in his bowl. ‘Any road, I might not yet go.’

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh?’

‘Well, if you ain’t going, there’s not much point, is there?’

‘You were only going because of me?’

‘Aye.’ He lowered his head and ate some more.

‘Why?’ She stared at him, trying to understand his thinking. ‘If, for some reason, I did go I’d still be married to Farrell. He wouldn’t let you touch me.’

‘I could look out for you and make sure he didn’t beat you all the time.’

Stunned, she leant back in her chair. ‘Neville,
you
attacked me, hit me. There is no difference between you and Farrell.’

A red flush stained his cheeks. ‘He doesn’t care for you, but I do. I didn’t mean to do what I did in the shed. Only, you pushed me beyond madness and I lost control.’

‘You don’t care for me! You want to own me.’

Neville glared at her. ‘That’s a lie. In America I will work hard to give you a decent life, better than the one you have here, better than the one Farrell can give you.’

‘And what of Farrell?’ She spoke low, menacing, for behind Neville, Farrell had just opened the scullery door and was quietly listening with interest. ‘Where does he fit into your plans?’

‘I’ll make sure he has an accident. Then you’d be free of him. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ Neville grinned.

With a roar of anger, Farrell whipped a rope around Neville’s throat and pulled tight, making his eyes bulge as he flayed at the restraint.

Isabelle jumped back from the table and Hughie ran around to her. She grabbed his hand and looked beyond the two struggling men for any sign of Bertie, but the scullery was empty.

Neville choking, turning purple, fell backwards off his chair as Farrell kept the noose taut and dragged him across the kitchen floor. Farrell turned his back, straining to keep his wiggling eel from kicking out at him. In a flash, Isabelle lunged for the door with Hughie right behind her.

In the darkness of the yard she bolted, not heeding that she wore only house slippers and had no shawl. ‘Bertie! Bertie!’

Hughie searched the shadows. ‘Bertie!’

They heard a faint whimper from the first shed and then a crashing sound. Isabelle, closest to the building, ran inside and fell over something, landing on her knees. Bertie’s whimpering had her scrambling back to him.

Hughie lifted him up. The boy was tied and gagged. ‘It’s all right now, matie. I’ve got you.’

‘Untie him, hurry.’ Isabelle yanked at the knotted handkerchief about his mouth and when freed, Bertie cried and talked at the same time.

‘His feet are free, but I can’t untie his hands.’ Hughie puffed and swore at the tangled rope cutting into Bertie’s slim wrists.

‘Leave it, he can still run.’ Isabelle rushed to the door. The light from the kitchen gave them a good view of the scene through the window. Neville and Farrell fought and crashed against the kitchen table.

‘I’ll carry Bertie on my back, Belle. We’ll be faster.’ Hughie panted beside her.

‘Quickly, we must make it into the woods before they stop fighting.’

They slipped out the door and along the wall, around the corner and into the orchard. The shadows of the night hid them periodically as they ran between the trees. A full moon slid out from a lone cloud and lit the countryside up like its own personal lamp.

On reaching the orchard’s far boundary wall, Isabelle paused for breath. Before them stretched the flat, open fields. They’d have to cross them and take the chance they could be seen before they could arrive at the wood and safety.

‘Will we go to Bracken Hall, Belle?’ Hughie gasped, placing Bertie on his feet for a moment.

‘Farrell will think we’ve gone there. He may be stupid enough to go there and create havoc.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘We’ll hide in the woods, circle around Bracken Hall and make for Hebden Bridge. We can hide in town for the rest of the night and then go on to Halifax.’

‘Belle, look!’ Bertie cried, pointing back to the farm.

She stared at the cluster of buildings. Above the sheds an orange glow haloed the house’s roof. ‘What is it?’

The sound of a muffled explosion filled the air and then another, louder this time. Bertie huddled against Isabelle and she wrapped her arms around him. The orange glow grew brighter. More noise came - crackling and splintering.

‘It’s a fire, Belle.’ Hughie whispered. ‘The house is on fire.’

Goosebumps rose on her skin. She was torn whether to return to the house or flee.

‘We can’t go back. You know we can’t.’ Hughie touched her arm. ‘Please, Belle, we must go. Don’t think about them.’

She hesitated. ‘They…they might be trapped inside…’