The red leaves of the oaks, the gold of the alders went away.
Everything became purple. Purple jacaranda.
The smell of the fallen flowers—no more the honey of blooms like a wedding day, but the humid stench of horses’ leavings and death.
I had to be away. I ran from everything, driving deeper into the trees.
The images of Helena and the dray, the noises of guns, all the evil of that night returned to my ears.
My shaking, I couldn’t stop.
The rebels’ shouts, crying for freedom.
The smugglers’ guns blasting.
Helena’s screams.
Mine.
I dropped to my knees. The crackle of red leaves deafened. The wind crossed my body, sending a bone-aching shiver.
Nothing stopped moving, not till I was caught.
CHAPTER45
FELTON—PUTTINGPIECESTOGETHER
Felton had never shot a gun near a woman, but in these deep woods, the unfamiliar terrain, one had to be prepared.
Yet, here he crouched with Cecilia in one arm and smoke wafting from his favorite blunderbuss pistol in the other.
He pulled her closer. “Cecilia?”
She trembled against him.
“Cecilia, did you fall? Are you hurt?”
She didn’t respond, but her thumb trailed scars on the back of his hand and the cocked handle of the gun that was ready to engage.
Her silence unnerved Felton’s battlefield-hardened soul.
Setting the gun to his side, he tugged her onto his lap. Felton would be her blanket, her anchor, everything to draw her back from whatever dark place she’d sunken into.
“Talk to me, Cilia. Tell me what Gladstone did?”
“He followed me out on the patio.” Tears sprouted and pooled at her chin. “He said Helena’s name, like a curse. That it was her fault he didn’t get her dowry.”
“What dowry? He’d have to marry—”
“Helena was sweet and trusting. She’d give you the best mat or mattress to sleep on, the first chance to pick from a bundle of new linens. She was afraid of woods like these, unless I held her hand. We’d tease each other that a jaguarete would come if we let go.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Hush. Let me get through this.” Clinging to his arm, she tucked his fingers under her coat sleeve. “When Jeremiah Gladstone returned to Demerara, he targeted her.”
“Returned?”
“He was one of the suitors my father wanted me to meet, that night we met.”
