It had often disturbed her.
“Eric knows!” She gasped suddenly. “But I did not betray—”
“Lady, you did. We are here. And Ihavecome for you!” he told her with sudden fury.
Her mouth went dry as he came toward her. Danielle tried to block his way, and he shoved the Acadian woman to the side. In seconds he was before Amanda. She struggled with him, tearing her fingers down his cheek. He laughed as he caught her fingers, twisting them brutally. “Don’t play your games, Highness. You called, and I am here.”
“No!” She gasped, horrified.Shewas the one who had been betrayed. She knew that the arms had been stored at the docks, but she was no longer Highness! She had told no one.
She struggled furiously against him but he held her firmly in a viselike grip. Danielle lay on the floor where she had fallen, her eyes closed.
“You’ve killed her!” Amanda cried, trying to escape him. “God, how I hate you, loathe you—”
“The crone lives,” Robert replied. “Let’s go! Warn your people to get out. We’re firing the house.”
“I’ll never come with—” Amanda began, then she realized what he’d said.We’re firing the house. Firing the house. Cameron Hall. “No!” With a rage of energy she flung herself against him, tearing at his flesh again. His cheek bled as she fought for the house, bricks and chimneys and walls that suddenly seemed so desperately dear to her. “No, you can’t burn the hall, you can’t—”
He caught her fingers, his face white with fury except for the blood-red scratches her nails had left. “I have to fire the house,” he said. “But…”
“But?” She cast back her head.
“Walk out of here with me. Come aboard theLady Jane, your husband’sseizedship, of your own free will, and I will see that the fires are set small, and that your people can come back and quickly put them out.”
She stared at him in anguish, thinking quickly. She knew that she had little choice. He could drag her away screaming anyway.
“I’ll walk,” she said, fighting the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. They could not burn the house! They couldn’t! She jerked away from him as he pressed a handkerchief to his face and prodded her forward.
The stairway was filled with the servants. Amanda swallowed hard and looked at them all—Pierre, Margaret, Remy, Cassidy. “You all must go outside quickly. They plan to burn the house.”
“Look at ’er—the Tory bitch!” Margaret cried out.
Amanda’s face went ashen. Robert stepped forward to strike the woman.
“No!” Amanda called.
He turned back to her, smiling, offering her an elbow. “Highness?”
She bit her lip and took his arm. Amanda didn’t turn back as he led her down the stairs. Remy spit at her, but she stiffened her shoulders, remaining silent. She was a Tory. That was the truth. But the rest of this was some bitter irony. At the door she pulled away from Robert and turned back to the servants. “Get out. Get out, please! They’ll—”
“This is a house of wicked rebellion against God’s own anointed King of England! Leave it or die in the flames of hell!” Robert shouted, pulling her along.
But on the porch he paused, conferring with one of his lieutenants. The young man cast her a leering gaze, then nodded to his superior.
“The house, lady, will survive. The docks will not,” Robert stated.
She could smell fire. One of the tobacco warehouses was ablaze. When the shed with the powder went, there would be explosions everywhere.
Robert dragged her along to his horse. The sun was shining high overhead and a multitude of birds were singing. The grassy slope had never appeared more green. But the fresh river air was polluted already by the acrid smell of smoke. Amanda could see far down the hill that Lord Dunmore had come in, that his men were rowing from his ships to theLady Jane, at berth on the dock.
“Mount with me, lady. We will ride,” Robert whispered in her ear. Her stomach roiled. That she had loved him once she could scarcely believe. She shoved away from him and leapt upon his mottled gray stallion. He followed behind her. In seconds they were racing down to the dock. Her hands were cold, but no colder than her heart. She had gone numb.
They came to a halt. Robert reached for her, lifted her down.
Suddenly a cannon boomed out on the river. The men in British navy uniforms who were milling about theLady Jane, preparing her for sail, twirled around to see the new angle of attack.
“God’s blood!” Robert swore. Dazed, Amanda stared out to the river. Ships were appearing. Ships that did not fly the colors of the British Crown.
“He’s come!” Amanda gasped. He should have been in New York, or in New Jersey. Far, far away.
