To Love and Protect (14 page)

“Clare, stop!” a voice shouted in her ear.
 
The arms loosened around her and she tried to escape back into the house.
 
To hurt the hag or to finish her off, she didn’t know.
 
She just knew she needed to do something, to exact some sort of revenge for her father, for herself.
 
“No!” She felt wood against her back and hands cutting into her arms.
 
She began lashing out with the only weapon left to her, her legs and feet.
 
Before long, she felt smothered as a warm, hard body imprisoned her against the solidness behind her.
 
Hard, muscled legs pressed indelicately against hers holding them in place.

“Let me go,” she pleaded her voice weakening.
 

“No,” Southerby’s deep voice murmured in her ear.

“Please, let me go,” the last word ended on a choked sob.
 
Strong arms wrapped around her.
 
She should have felt trapped, but instead she felt comforted.
 
Clarissa felt her own arms betray her and wrap around Justin’s lean waist.
 
She moored herself to him, currently the only stable being in her turbulent life.
 
There were voices around her, but they all seem garbled to her distraught mind.

Justin gave the orders for her father to be carefully moved to the wagon.
 
The conscious guard and the old woman were forced to take enough laudanum to keep them asleep for hours.
 
Justin found himself now most concerned, not for Hamilton, but for Clarissa.
 
The stress had finally taken its toll on her nerves between the earlier attack and seeing her father.
 
He had been afraid this would happen when he had seen Hamilton through the window the day before.
 
Had it really just been a day?
 
So much had transpired in so short a time span.

He held her tight as the last of the tears finally escaped.
 
Justin placed comforting kisses on her temple and then just held her close.
 
Finally, her tears became little hiccups.
 
“I believe your father is ready to be moved,” he said softly, not wanting to startle her.
 
She nodded her agreement and allowed him to help her climb in the back of the wagon.
 
Clarissa crawled to the front of the bed and placed her father’s head gently on her lap.
 
With a lurch, the guarded wagon and its occupants began making the trip to their next leg of their escape.

The few miles they covered to the village was an arduous journey for the old duke.
 
He moaned piteously at every bump that jarred the wagon.
 
When they reached the village the fresh sea air seemed to calm him a bit.

“Southerby,” Clarissa called out.

“How is he?” Justin asked, approaching the side of the wagon.

“While there are men available, can’t we just load Papa into the boat and begin the next part of the journey?”

“I don’t know,” he replied cautiously.

“Please.
 
The sooner we have him to your grandmother, the sooner we will know if anything can be done for him.”

“Let me talk it over with Jack.”
 
She watched as Justin walked away from her and searched out the oldest looking man in the group.
 
The men talked for several minutes before Justin came back over.
 
“Jack agrees.
 
He thinks the weather is going to turn bad and if we do not leave now, we might not be able to leave at all.”

“Did you hear that, Papa?
 
We’re taking you to Scotland.”
 
No response came from the old man.

“We’ll prepare everything and get you and him on board when we are ready to set sail.”
 
Clarissa nodded her agreement, glad to be away from those two horrible people back at the manor.
 
Clarissa watched as the men gathered in a circle.
 
A few moments later they dispersed, some rowing out to the boat and some gathering various items from the little village.
 
Within the hour they had created a sling of sorts that would hoist her father into the boat.
 
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes at Southerby’s kindness and thoughtfulness.
 
She quickly drew a deep breath and blinked away the telling tears.

Justin and another of the men that had helped them, rowed the little dinghy back to shore while two men stayed with Captain Jack on the larger boat.
 
Clarissa couldn’t help but watch and appreciate the way Justin’s pants caressed his body and emphasized his leanness.
 
His movements were sleek and graceful for a man of his size.
 
She felt a blush rise on her cheeks and quickly averted her gaze as he approached her.

“We’re ready for the move.”
 
She helped the men move Papa as much as she could, but soon realized she was only in the way.
 
They got him loaded in the dinghy and she sat bracing him in an upright position.
 
The water lapped at the sides of the little boat as they bobbed across the water.
 
The men on the
Marie
, Captain Jack’s boat, lowered the sling that would move her father into the larger boat.

Justin and the other man maneuvered him into the sling and, on command, the others began carefully raising him.
 
The sailor moved the dinghy in position at the bottom of the rope ladder attached to the larger boat.

“Are you ready for this?” Justin asked carefully.

“Yes,” Clarissa stood, finding her balance and then grabbed for the ladder.
 
She moved slowly, but finally felt hands grabbing her and hauling her the rest of the way over the ship’s railing.
 
“Papa?” she asked the men who had helped her.

“In a cabin down below,” one of the men said gruffly.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said before going in search of her father.
 
When she found him, he looked none the worse for wear.
 
She removed his boots and found a blanket to pull up over him.
 
Someone yelled, and it filtered down into the cabin, followed by a loud snapping and popping sound.
 
They lurched slightly, and her stomach turned precariously.
 
Were they already moving?

She tried to stand, but found the swaying motion made her dizzy and nauseous.
 
Clarissa quickly sat back down and lowered her head between her knees.
 
Justin found her in that same position several minutes later.

“What’s wrong?” he asked kneeling beside her.
 
She looked at him, and he saw the wan paleness of her skin.
 
“Are you seasick?”
 
Clarissa merely moaned and bent over once more.
 
“But we just started.
 
We are barely moving.
 
Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” she replied, her voice muffled in her skirts.

“Wait here.”

“I couldn’t go anywhere if I tried,” she muttered under her breath.
 
She heard the sound of his approaching footsteps coming down the stairs.
 
He entered the room and swept her up into his arms.
 
“Where are you taking me?”

“Captain Jack said to put you in his cabin.”

“But what about Papa?”

“I’ll care for both of you.”
 
He laid her down gently on the bed.
 
“If you sleep it will help.”

“I don’t see how anything can help.”

“Just try.”
 
He stood over her until she closed her eyes.
 
He found a cloth and a cask of water.
 
After wetting the cloth, he returned and placed it over her eyes.
 
Bending over, he brushed some tendrils off her forehead and placed a gentle kiss there.
 
Justin turned and left the room to look in on Hamilton before going up on deck to help the crew.

Chapter 7

The duke still rested peacefully.
 
Justin did not know whether to thank Heaven above that he slept or to worry over his condition.
 
He knew only that he would be more than relieved when he turned the old man over into his grandmother’s care.
 
Justin eased out of the duke’s cabin and swayed with the rhythm of the boat to the Captain’s cabin.
 
The sound of dry-heaving welcomed him into the room.
 

Clarissa knelt beside the bed, one arm draped pitifully across the mattress.
 
Her other hand braced against the floor.
 
Wracking sobs accompanied her sickness.
 
Justin walked over to her and held back the hair that had come loose from its tie.
 
He brought her a glass of water and let her rinse her mouth.
 
Once she finished, he moved the chamber pot far away and sank on the floor, gathering her into his arms.

He held her as she cried from her misery.
 
Justin started to rock her, but thought better of it when she moaned at the movement.
 
Finally her sobs subsided to snuffles and then to deep breathing.
 
She had cried herself to sleep.
 
He stood and lifted her into his arms and onto the captain’s bed once more.
 
He wet a cloth and draped it over her neck to keep her cool.
 
Justin looked down at her sleeping form.
 
Even sick, he could not keep his body from reacting to her.

“Papa,” she called out in her sleep.
 
“No, Papa, where are you?”

“Ssshhhhh,” Justin whispered sitting on the edge of the bed.
 
“We found him, remember?”

“Found him,” she whispered groggily.

“Yes.”

“Justin, thank you,” she trailed off, her speech slurred by sleep.

Justin took the moments afforded him to admire her.
 
Her patrician nose and sculptured brows could lead someone to believe she was a Greek goddess come to life.
 
Her pale skin showed no signs of freckling.
 
Clarissa’s blonde hair looked like spun silver in the sunlight.
 
Her luscious mouth drew Justin’s attention most of all.
 
He wanted to capture it, to teach her what all it could be used for.
 
He caught himself leaning into her and quickly pulled back, having to count to ten three times before he got himself under some semblance of control.
 
Justin left her and went back above deck on the pretense of once more helping Captain Jack and navigating him to the port where they would land.

When he arrived above board he found deck hands racing to and fro. A freezing rain had begun to fall, accompanied with a stiff wind.
 
The temperature had dropped and icicles were forming on the ropes and rails.
 
It seemed Captain Jack’s prediction about the weather changing ended up being correct.
 
He hurried across the deck to help the men take in the sails.

***

The clatter of carriage wheels on the hard packed earth alerted the people at the small cottage that help had finally arrived.
 
The man outside the cottage quivered at what fate might bestow on him.
 
He wondered if his partner were already dead.
 
They didn’t know much about the two people who had hired them to watch the gent.
 
The men did know that the man and woman were not people to be crossed, and they had messed up.
 
There had been no sound from inside the cottage since the group had left.

The well-dressed couple disembarked from the carriage and immediately spotted the guard bound to the tree outside the door.
 

“What is going on here?” the woman asked, her voice cold, calculating.
 
Her eyes flitted toward the door, and she stomped across the yard, flinging it open.
 
Her glare turned steely when she discovered their captive gone.
 
The guard tried to answer her, but the gag in his mouth muffled his voice.
 
“Franklin, dear, I can’t understand a word he is saying.”

The well-dressed gent quickly walked over to the man and tugged down the cloth so he could speak.
 
“Answer the lady,” he commanded maliciously.

“There was a group of them.
 
Town folks included, some used to work at your manor house.
 
Came and grabbed the old man.”

“I see.
 
Where is the old woman?”
 

“In her bedroom.
 
Haven’t heard anything from her since the little hellcat that was with them attacked her.”
 
The guard would have almost said that concern flickered across her face, but it disappeared so quickly, he must have been mistaken.

The woman quickly walked to the little bedroom in the back of the cottage.
 
The old woman was tied to her bed and she looked to be unconscious.
 
“Grandmother,” she said softly.

“Well, don’t just sit there, gal, untie me.”

“Are you all right?”

“Aye.
 
That little spitfire packs quite a punch though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The duke’s daughter was here with a whole group to get him.
 
She attacked me while I was tied up.”

“Clarissa attacked you?
 
You must be mistaken.
 
That little milk and water miss jumps at her own shadow.”

“This one is a tigress, she is.
 
You best watch her, or she’ll be your downfall.”