“We will be safe. The fire will burn throughout the night.”
They had left the fire behind then, but he was right, she could still see its glow. He wouldn’t leave it too far, she thought; he would not risk the forest in flames. He knew his way here, just as he did upon the sea.
“Hold up,” he told her softly, stopping before her. He had her hand. She came around beside him and saw that the flames and the moonglow just touched upon the water. It made a slight bubbling sound as it ran toward the river.
“Oh!” she murmured, thinking that it looked delicious. She knelt down by the water’s edge and cupped handfuls of the clean clear liquid to drink. He came to his knees beside her, throwing it over his face, drinking as deeply as she. When Skye was done, she fell away from it, lying upon the mossy slope. It was all right. The moon was freed from the clouds. Stars shone. She could feel the coolness of the brook, and the warmth of the fire.
And he was with her. She was not alone.
Not alone at all. He lay at her side upon an elbow and idly chewed upon a blade of grass. He watched her intently, she knew. He dropped the blade of grass and touched her cheek. She did not draw away.
“Why the darkness?” he asked her softly.
She flushed. “No one knew of it at all,” she murmured. “Except for Father and Mattie, and Gretel, my housemaid at school.”
“Why?” he persisted.
She shook her head, lowering her lashes and flushing. “It’s so silly really. Not silly, but frustrating that I cannot get over it. It isn’t a reasonable fear. It closes in upon me and I begin to panic, and then I have no control at all.”
“Why are you so afraid?”
She hesitated a moment longer and then sighed. After all that she had brought upon him, she probably owed him something so simple as an explanation. “Father owns a lot of land,” she said. “He had property up in the northern country.”
“Iroquois country?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I was very young then. No more than five. My mother was supposed to have been very beautiful. She was no great lady, but a colonial tavern wench, and my father defied his own parents and tradition to marry her, she swore that she would love him all her life, and follow him to the ends of the earth.” She hesitated a moment. “She was warmth and beauty and energy. I will never forget her.”
“You loved her very much.”
“Yes. Yes…well, she followed Father when he came to see this northern land in Iroquois country. Father was out with his surveyor; Mother and I were in a little cabin alone. We had only one servant with us, and Mother was singing and humming, as happy as a sparrow not to have to remember her manners and that she was a lady. Then suddenly she quit humming, and she shoved me into a little trapdoor where they stored wine and ale in the summer to chill it. It was very small, and it was black, and it was made of earth, and the smell of dirt was stifling.”
She hesitated, gasping for breath, finding it difficult to breathe all over again. She hated the weakness, hated to betray it to anyone, but he knew about it. Her father had married her to him without her consent. He had surely warned him about the darkness, and had Theo not told him, she knew that this man would have discovered it on his own.
“What happened?” he persisted.
She shook her head. “She warned me not to make a sound. Then I heard noises as if the whole place had caved in, and then I heard her screaming. I peeked out. I saw the Indians coming for her. Perhaps they wouldn’t have hurt her; perhaps she fought too desperately. I fell back against the earth, terrified at the sight of them. They were painted; a war party. I didn’t see anymore. I just kept hearing the screams. Then they found the trapdoor. One of them was looking in at me, laughing. He was bald and painted with a thatch of hair, and his hands were covered with blood when he reached for me. Father came back and shot him. He fell on top of me, and the door closed and we were locked in the darkness together with his blood streaming over the both of us. I suppose that it wasn’t that long before Father dragged us out, but it seemed like forever.”
“And they killed your mother?”
She shook her head. “She took her own life rather than let them capture her,” she whispered. “She—she loved Father. That’s why I cannot understand why—” She broke off, not wanting to say anything bitter when he was being so decent to her, and when she was pouring out her heart to him.
“You can’t understand why he forced you to marry me?”
“I can’t understand why he would force me to marry anyone.” She stared up at him hopefully. She had never really spoken to him before, not with any sincerity. Not as a possible friend. “Roc, please tell me, this thing cannot be legal!”
He shook his head. He seemed almost sad, as if she had his sympathy. “It is legal,” he said. She fell back against the earth. “Why is it so horrid. I am not a monster.”
“I did not say that you were. I just—” She hesitated. “I cannot make you understand.”
He was quiet for long moments. She heard the brook as it gently danced alongside them. She felt the fire, warm against the flesh on her face. She was absurdly comfortable, and not at all afraid of the night anymore. He was there, beside her.
“Tell me, did you fall in love with my rogue cousin?”
“Of course not!” she argued, jumping up. “He—he was a pirate. I—I told you—”
“Ah, yes. He was cruel and horrible and forceful. You must despise him terribly.” The same cloud that came to cover the moon dropped enigmatic shadows upon his eyes. He looked up at her curiously. Words caught in her throat. “Of…course.”
He smiled suddenly, reaching out to her. “Come back here. Lie down. It’s comfortable upon the earth, and I will just hold you until morning.”
