Silver Moon (14 page)

The morning matched Elyse’s mood. Dark clouds filled the horizon, blocking out the golden orb of the sun. The angry crashing of waves upon the sands of Bluefish Bay came through her bedroom window. The birds were silent, the air thick and heavy with humidity.

Elyse dressed absently, paying little attention to what she put on, even less to the way her face looked, with her red-rimmed and swollen eyes emphasized by the dark circles beneath.

Leaving her room, she went downstairs, and out onto the veranda where she sat on one of the large wing back cane chairs and stared at the treetops. “Breakfast?” asked one of the servants.

“Nothing,” Elyse replied. The servant nodded her head and left, recognizing that Elyse wanted to be alone.

She sat for another half hour, feeling the weight of the loss of her love. She had seen last night that Brace was determined to leave. She’d intuitively known that nothing she could say or do would stop him. His pride, mixed with his love, controlled him—that, and the belief he was doing this for her.

Has it been just over a month since we found our love
? Memories of that day, interspersed with the perfection of last night’s lovemaking, threatened to make her cry again, but she pushed them away and did her best to concentrate on the future.

What future?

“Good morning,” Ann said as she stepped onto the veranda. She had been walking on the path in front of the house when Elyse came out and she saw the tired, expressionless look on her face.

In the last few weeks, Ann had watched the changes in both Elyse and Brace. She’d divined, with true maternal insight, exactly what had happened between them, yet she had remained silent. Although the pain in her heart for the young lovers was always present, she knew that unless Elyse, or Brace, came to her, there was little she could do to help them.

Nevertheless, when she saw Elyse sitting so pensively on the veranda, she could no longer hold back. She went to the young woman and spoke. Elyse gazed up at Ann. “It’s a dark morning.” Ann smiled tentatively. “The clouds will pass soon enough.”

“In the sky perhaps. There are other clouds that mar the day.”

“You must look past those; look for the sunshine behind them.”

“I’ve tried, Ann, but all I find are more clouds. Whenever a ray of light comes, the clouds block it off. It’s as if I’m always to be denied what I want in life.”

Ann shook her head slowly, holding Elyse’s large eyes with her own. “You’ve but lived a small part of your life. There is so much more ahead.”

“God give me the strength to face it, for if it’s only half as bad as what I’ve lived through, I don’t know that I can continue.”

Alarmed by her words, Ann quickly replied. “You mustn’t talk that way. You’ve had so much love in your life. How many women can boast of the wealth you have? How many were raised on one of the great estates of England? You were protected there and your childhood was a broadening that your father knew was necessary for you to understand who and what you are.”

Elyse’s mouth opened to reply, but Ann’s words had evoked all the terrible memories of her childhood in England. “Do you think I care about the wealth? I would trade it all to have been with my father for those last years before he died!” Bitterness welled up within her as she spoke. The hatred for her aunt and uncle, the shame at her own inability to withstand them covered her like water over a drowning sailor. The shame made her want to speak, as the drowning man would want to breathe.

Elyse rose swiftly, turning her back to Ann and grasping the wooden rail of the veranda. “Yes, because he loved me and wanted to protect me, he sent me to England. He put me into the care of his sister. Oh, at first it was fine. I learned, played, and enjoyed life. Father came to visit me once a year, and for a month, my life was perfect. Nevertheless, he would always leave, and I would always be alone. Then one year, I had just turned eleven, he didn’t come to visit me.” Elyse whirled about, fixing Ann with a penetrating stare. “Did you know that I didn’t learn of my father’s death for six months?”

Ann couldn’t reply.

“My dear aunt didn’t tell me. First, she had to make all the arrangements for the guardianship. I didn’t know anything about it! Didn’t you ever wonder why I never wrote? Why I never inquired about Devonairre?”

Ann nodded her head slowly, her mouth too dry to speak.

“I did, daily, but Aunt Elizabeth never posted the letters. I was a prisoner in my own home. My aunt and uncle kept me imprisoned for ten years, plundering my father’s estate for everything they could legally take. Never once was I shown an accounting—never once was I asked for an opinion.

“I had several teachers who gave me my education. Not because my guardians wanted it that way, but because my father’s will made it mandatory.

“From the time I was fourteen, I was never permitted to be alone, except in my rooms. When I went riding, it was always with someone watching me. I never attended social functions; I never had a friend. My aunt was very clever; she and her husband had made their plans very, very carefully. At fourteen, I began to realize what was happening.” Elyse paused, trying to steady her breathing. She hadn’t meant to tell Ann about this, but the words had come rushing out and she’d been helpless to stop them.

“You see, Elizabeth married Carl Sorrel shortly after Father founded Devonairre. Carl was titled, but landless. When he married Elizabeth, he agreed to manage the estates in Devon for Father. From that point on, my father supported my aunt and uncle. When he died, and I was in their charge, they decided they should have it all. I’m convinced,” Elyse said in a much lower voice, “that if Devonairre had been left under their executorship, I would not be alive today. For it is Devonairre, and the monies that the plantation earns, that keep the Louden fortune alive.” “Elyse!” Ann gasped.

“But because it was, and the executorship was irrevocable, stating that in the event of my death, Devonairre would have gone to you and Charles, Elizabeth could not do away with me. Instead, she made plans for something just as horrible.” Elyse closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. “From the time I was fifteen, Elizabeth let it be known that I ‘wasn’t right’. That my father’s death made me weak-minded. No one, except an old, senile neighbor ever came to call on me, and he would have been no help, had I confided in him.

“I survived because I knew that somehow I would find a way to return home. I almost gave up all hope when Elizabeth informed me of my betrothal to a man who would do her bidding. I was to be married on my twenty-first birthday to Jeremy Hollingsby, the Earl of Heymouth, a penniless aristocrat who had gambled away his money and most of his lands. The day after the wedding, they would force me to claim my inheritance and by law, turn the lands and monies over to my husband, who had agreed with my guardians to the division of the spoils. Whether I lived or not after that, mattered little to them.

“Three weeks before my birthday and the wedding, an old friend of my father’s came to Devon, Amos McClintock. I was able to tell him what was happening. With his help, I escaped my prison. He ... he was shot while helping me. He died.”

“Oh, Elyse…” Ann whispered, her heart wrenching for Elyse, saddened by the news of the death of a man she knew very well. “Please, say no more.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t tell you or Charles, or even Brace, of how I had let them control me. I was afraid that somehow, someway, Elizabeth and Carl would get me back into their grasp again.”

Ann went to Elyse and pulled her into an embrace, holding her close, even as her own tears fell. “You’re safe now; you’re home. You’re with people who will protect you.”

Elyse pulled back and laughed. “Protect me? I don’t want protection! I want love!” The moment she’d spat the words out, her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as if she could take back the words she had spoken. “I’m sorry.”

Ann understood completely. “Brace.” The one word was statement enough.

“He tells me he loves me and because of that love, he must protect me. He’s leaving Jamaica, leaving me. Is that what love is supposed to be?”

“For Brace, it is,” Ann admitted. “Elyse, if Brace didn’t love you, he would use you, satisfy himself, and leave you to be held up for the derision of the planters. But because of his love, he won’t allow that to happen.”

“What about me? I don’t care about the others. I love him. I need him.”

“Elyse, Charles and I are not blind to what’s been happening. We know you and Brace are in love, and we have prayed that somehow you and he would be able to work your problems out.”

“If Brace would let us. But he’d rather be noble and leave me.”

“Because he has been where he would not let you go. He has been the butt of the planters’ hatred. We alone, of all the debtors who came to Jamaica, have risen to threaten the planters’ sacred position. When your father named Charles as the administrator of Devonairre until you returned, it scared them. They retaliated with harsh words and demeaning acts. If you and Brace were to make known your love, they would treat you with even more disdain and make your life a hell on earth.”

Elyse smiled. “No more than it was before I returned. I survived that.”

Ann stared at the young woman for a long time before finally nodding her head. “Go to him. Tell him what you told me. Perhaps he will see through the curtains he’s placed over his eyes.”

“I can’t,” Elyse admitted. “It must come from him. He has to be the one to come back to me.” When she finished speaking, she turned to the railing. Ignoring the tears, she gazed out at the trees surrounding the house and lost herself in thought.

*****

Seeing her this way, Ann said nothing while her rage at the unfairness of the world, itself, grew out of bounds. Turning, Ann left the veranda and went directly to the west wing, and into her husband’s office.

When she closed the door behind her, Charles put down his quill and glanced back at her. “We must talk,” she said.

Charles looked at the set of her face and took in the wetness filming her eyes. “What’s happened?”

With measured, precise words, Ann told her husband everything. When she finished, she took a deep breath. “What can we do?”

“What we must.” Charles, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he smiled at his wife. “I spoke with Brace this morning before he rode out. He was going to his plantation. I’m going there, also.”

As he rose, Ann came close to him. Her arms went around him, her lips grazing his. When she drew her head back, she saw the way his eyes sparkled. “You’re going to tell him?”

“It’s time.”

“I love you, Husband.”

“And I thank you for that love, for you’ve made my life worthwhile.” When Ann released him, he smiled at her. “Watch over Elyse.”

Brace sat at his desk, looking over the documents he was about to sign. With his signature, he would appoint his overseer to full control of the plantation while he was away.

He didn’t know for how long, only that there was the possibility that he might never return. When he finished rereading the last document, he lifted the quill and signed his name. All that remained was for him to take the documents to the barrister’s office.

Brace stood and went to the mahogany cabinet where he poured more brandy into the snifter. As he raised it to his lips, he heard hoof beats approach the house.

Putting the snifter down, Brace went to the front door and stepped onto the veranda, just as his father dismounted. Angel appeared magically to take the horse from Charles.

“Good afternoon, Father,” Brace said, not letting his surprise show.

“Yes,” Charles replied, “a wonderful day for a ride.”

Brace laughed. The love he felt for his father warmed him in a way that brandy never could. When his father reached the top of the veranda, he spoke. “I take it that you want to speak to me.”

“At my age, I don’t ride for five hours for mere pleasure.”

“Brandy?”

“And a bite to eat; I missed lunch.”

Again, Brace smiled. He led his father into his study, poured him a brandy, and then called his housekeeper. A moment later, the two men were sitting on a finely tooled leather couch.

“Did you want to wait until after you’ve eaten to tell me what you’re here for?”

“It won’t spoil my appetite to tell you now.”

Brace nodded.

“I understand you’re leaving us—this time there will be no turning back?”

“That’s right.”

“I want to know something,” Charles said, his tone suddenly tight. He waited a moment until Brace’s eyes met and locked with his. “Do you love her?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

“Damn it boy, answer my question!” Brace’s eyebrows arched. His father hadn’t used that tone, or that phrase, in fifteen years.

“Yes.”

“Then why are you running away from her?”

“Running away from her? I’m not running away from her, I’m saving her life!”

“Since when were you proclaimed to be God?”

“Since I learned who and what I am!” Brace snapped back, his anger getting away from him.

“She loves you, Brace.”

“And that hurts more than anything else. I tried to stay away from her. I really did.”

Charles took in his son’s tortured face, and emotion choked his words. “Brace, if it was meant to be, you cannot run from it.”

“What else can I do? I’m the son of a debtor, which is the same, if not worse than being a debtor. How can I love her and then let her become an object of ridicule? Can I let her be as despised as I am? I owe too much to her father to let that happen!”

Charles nodded his head slowly. He put down the snifter and entwined his fingers together, resting both hands on his lap. “Do you remember when Elyse went to England? When you begged Harlan to send you, also?”

“As if it were yesterday.”

“Harlan took me aside that day. He told me that only his own love for you stopped him from doing just that. He knew that if you went to England, your life would have been worse than it was here, which was why he sent you to school in America. He loved you as if you were his son. Still, he must have had a premonition about the future, because he told me that he would not be surprised if Elyse and you fell in love. ‘Brace will become a good man, a strong man’ were his words.”

“He said that?” Brace whispered.

“He did. The idea didn’t bother him at all.”

“But if he were alive now? How would he feel about his daughter marrying the...”

“Son of a debtor?” Charles finished for him. Then he smiled. “Harlan Louden hated England. He hated the overly structured society into which he was born. He hated the way everything was done, and came to Jamaica to find a better life.”

“Only he found the same life he had left,” Brace stated.

“With one small difference. Devonairre was his country—not Jamaica, not England. He lived as he pleased on the plantation, and cared not what the others said of him.”

“Then why did he send Elyse away?”

“To learn about her heritage. To see where her roots came from. To see that what she had in Jamaica was better than what she had been born into.”

“Was he right?”

“Elyse is back, isn’t she?” Charles had decided not to tell Brace of his newly found knowledge about Elyse’s life in England, nor the battle she had fought to return home. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him herself.

“But that changes nothing.”

“Sometimes you’re as stubborn as a mule,” Charles declared. “All right, run away if you must. Sacrifice for no reason what could be yours.”

“No reason?” Brace slammed his palm on his thigh. “Every morning when I awaken, I am faced with that reason. It is I!”

“Has nothing I’ve said penetrated your thick skull?”

“Everything has, but it makes no difference. Harlan is dead. If he were alive, I would go to him, seek his permission, and if he gave it—if! Then Elyse would have the protection of his title.”

“Is that so important, a title?”

“When you are the son of a debtor.”

“And you hate me for that.”

Brace blinked away the shock of his father’s words. He stared at him, willing the words to come to deny the accusation. When he was finally able to speak, his voice was low and intense.

“I have known only love for you and Mother. We have argued and fought, we have disagreed on many things, but I’ve never hated you.”

“Only the mark I placed on your head.”

“You had no choice. You are not to blame for that.”

Although no mention had ever been made of his father’s transgression in England, Brace was all too aware of the hordes of people who had ended up in debtor’s prison, people sold like slaves to others who paid their debts in order to get cheap labor.

Times had been bad in England when they put his father  in prison. Poverty had been, and still was, rampant in London, a fact Brace well knew. In his own mind, he knew his father had fallen into debt in order to survive and he did not blame his father for his position in life, only the society that had put him there.

Before anything else could be said, Brace’s housekeeper entered with a tray and placed it on a table near the men. Without a word, she withdrew.

Charles looked at the tray of food, and then back at his son. “Perhaps I spoke too hastily. I feel my appetite has indeed fled.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Father.”

“It’s not you, or your words; rather, it is the ridiculous circumstances life puts us into. Brace, I want you to know about my life in England. It’s time you knew why you have been so damned.”

“I haven’t—” But Charles cut off his protest with a single gesture of his hand.

“Let me speak.”

Brace fell silent.

“My name is not Charles Denham. It is Charles Denham Wadworth. I was born to Charles Wadworth, Earl of Gloucester, Duke of Wittaker, and first cousin to King George III.” As Charles spoke, his voice low and faraway, his eyes never once wavered from his son.

“I led a sheltered life in Gloucester, pampered by servants, spoiled by an adoring mother, watched over by tutors and instructors. When I was seventeen, I made the mistake of falling in love with an older, more experienced woman, who was everything I was not.

“The affair went on for a year, undiscovered by anyone. During that time, my passions burned endlessly, and only when I was with her did my life seem to have some purpose. I loved her desperately, or at least I thought it was love. It was only after I met your mother, that I learned what love truly is.

“This highborn woman refused to marry me, laughing that I was still but a boy, and she was not ready to give up the life she led for me. I was devastated. Never once in my short life had I been refused anything. Then I began to think she was being unfaithful to me.”

Charles laughed sardonically. “Such a young fool I was that the idea of her faithlessness became an obsession. I had to know. On a night, this titled lady of the world told me she could not see me when I went to her chateau. Jealousy clouded my thinking and made me do things I would never have dared. Her servants tried to stop me, but I pushed them aside, entered her home, and went up the stairs.

“I burst into her bedroom, and found her…” Charles paused for a moment to bring out the memory and all the pain it had inflicted on his eighteen-year-old mind. “I found her in bed with a lover. I went insane! I screamed and raved, and finally issued the man a challenge.

“At first he laughed at me. He was twenty years older than I was, and not only a big man physically, but his powers at court were awesome. Being the reckless boy that I was, I refused to back down. I went to him, as he lay naked next to her. I slapped him twice.

“‘Tomorrow at dawn!’ I told him. ‘As you wish, fool,’ he replied.

“I spent the remainder of the night deep in thought, my anger and jealousy keeping me constant company. My mind was alive with hatred; nothing anyone might have said would have swerved me from my path.

“When dawn came, it found me standing on the lawn of the lady’s chateau, waiting. Before the man emerged from the house, the lady came out. She begged me to apologize to him. She was afraid that I would die, and that my death would bring scandal and shame to her name.

“I would not back down. A few moments later, the man came out of the house. Although his manservant accompanied him, he carried an intricately carved box, and when he reached me, he stopped. ‘Will you apologize?’ he asked. ‘When I see you in hell!’ I replied. Without another word, he opened the box and offered me my choice of dueling pistols.

“I took the first one, checked its load, and then nodded my head. We turned, our backs touching lightly. The man’s servant began to count paces. When he reached ten, we both whirled. I fired an instant before he did, and was rewarded by seeing him fall with my ball lodged in his heart. He was dead before his body touched the earth.”

Charles stopped to take a deep breath. He saw that Brace’s face was expressionless as he waited to hear the rest. “The man was the king’s most cherished advisor. They arrested me within hours. My father, as powerful as he was, could not persuade his cousin, the king, to show mercy; instead, I was held in prison until my trial.

“While I awaited trial, my father died, and I inherited all his titles and lands—for whatever good they would serve me in prison. When my trial came, it was fast and decisive. Two hours after it began, the judge sentenced me to death and stripped me of my hereditary titles: the crown confiscated my family lands, and sentenced me to hang as a commoner.

“The hanging was to take place in public, at Newgate prison. But, as you were born twenty-seven years ago, you are ample evidence that I did not hang,” he told Brace with an ironic smile shadowing the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t die because of the love of other people for my parents. A group of my father’s closest friends petitioned the king for mercy. He granted that petition in his own particular way. He kept my lands from me, and withheld my titles. I was allowed to live, but not as befitted my rank. Rather, the king, my cousin, sent me to debtor’s prison. . . .

“There, I was chosen by Harlan Louden and brought to Jamaica. As I worked in the fields, I gave much time to thinking about my life and the way I had ruined it. I thought about the man I killed, and the reason why. My punishment for my crime was light in comparison to what I made myself see and understand. Never since then have I raised my hand against anyone. To this day, I regret my actions that led to another’s death, and I do not absolve myself of the responsibility of killing a man.

“Yet at the same time, if I had not done so, I would never have found the opportunity to realize just how much I love life.”

“Father,” Brace began, but again Charles cut him off.

“There is nothing further to be said. I wanted you to know the truth, for you are about to change your life. If being a debtor’s son is the cause—being lowborn—then at least you know you are higher born than any man on this island, save myself.” With that, Charles rose and started out.

Brace watched him go, accepting his command and not trying to stop him. His father had given him much to think about, more than he had wanted.

*****

Colleen knocked on the door and, an instant later, the door opened. Stepping inside, she glanced at the three faces who stared intently at her.

“Well?” asked Elizabeth.

Colleen looked at Hollingsby. “I have your word?”

“You do,” he promised.

“The carriage and the guide will be waiting for us tomorrow night. I will take you to Devonairre and make sure that no one sees you.”

“Good.”

“The coins,” Colleen said.

Hollingsby nodded, and Elizabeth withdrew a small leather purse. She flung it at Colleen, who scooped it out of the air. “Make sure this guide doesn’t run off with the money.”