Fire On The Water

                                           
**Start at Chapter 1 - "Fire On The Water" 


                                              Chapter Three


    Vanessa walked in the bright morning sunshine toward the stable on her grandparent’s estate, Deveraux Manor, with a happy step in her gait.  Gently tapping the riding crop against her thigh, she thought about her fiancé, Jonathan.  She couldn’t wait to be married and be with him every day.  He’d left for a short business trip to the colonies two months ago and made sure Philip kept a close eye on her for some reason.  Neither of them would explain further.  Philip made sure she had an escort each time she went anywhere but this morning she wanted to be alone and what better place than with her mare in the stables.  Wanting to tend her horse, Athena, Vanessa stepped onto the stable’s cobblestone.  After a few steps, she stopped short.

    Silence.

    It was too quiet.

    Too quiet for this early in the morning.

    An eerie feeling crept up Vanessa’s spine, stiffening the hairs on her neck.  She listened, but all seemed in order.  After a quick glance down the length of the stable and past the many stalls, she continued on with her duties.

    Athena needed more hay, so rather than disturb the stable boys outside, Vanessa stepped into the next stall.  Laying down the riding crop, she reached out for an armful of hay.

    A hand covered her mouth and pulled her backward.  Vanessa struggled for freedom but something swept in front of her legs, landing her face down upon the pile of hay.  A heavy body stretched out on top of her and pulled the hair at her nape.

    “Scream and yer dead.  Understand?”  His raspy voice scraped along her ear.

    Attempting to keep her quiet, his fingers and thumb dug into her cheeks as she nodded a reply.  The pressure built in her chest and her lungs burned from lack of air.  How could this happen at her own home?

    “Now, we’re gonna have some fun ‘afore we take ye to the cap’n, lassie.  He ain’t gonna be the only one what enjoys yer favors.”

    The weight on Vanessa’s back lessened while her assailant tied her hands behind her.  Then suddenly, she found herself rolled over, again weighted down by the man’s body, his dirty hand over her mouth.  She would have bit him but his fingers were cupped away from her lips.  Vanessa wiggled and tried to throw him off, kicking at his legs at the same time.  If only she could reach the dirk in her boot.

    “Anxious te be squirmin’ beneath me, are ye?”  His scraggly mustache moved when he sneered, showing large, tobacco-stained teeth.  With the man’s hand covering her mouth, Vanessa wasn’t able to turn away from the stench of his breath.  Black eyes stared into hers as she memorized his pockmarked face.  Curly dark hair poked out from under his dirty stocking hat.

    His hand moved over her thin jacket to knead her breast, making her scream behind his hand, tossing her head about in an attempt to free her scream.  Then he tore open her jacket and lust glazed his eyes.  His tongue slid over his lecherous lips before he glanced up at her with a smile.

    Vanessa didn’t want to think of the images racing through his mind of what could happen here today.  Her thunderous beat of her heart pounded in her ears.  Preoccupied with her jacket, he slowly removed his hand from her mouth and she screamed.  She prayed someone was close enough to hear her.

    Instead of covering her mouth with his hand again, he used his mouth.  Teeth cut her lips and the tin-taste of blood spread over her tongue, yet she couldn’t move her head away from the onslaught of his attack.

    Tears blurred her vision and her stomach knotted.  How could she possibly get herself out of this mess?

    Then her blouse ripped away with her chemise and his fingers dug into her bare flesh; cool air hit her thighs as her skirt lifted away.  Vanessa tried to use her numb hands to roll herself over, but it was useless.

    “Hurry up so I can have a turn, ye cur!  Someone’s gonna be here ‘afore yer done.”

    The other voice shocked Vanessa to think there were two of them and she tried to look over her attacker’s shoulder to see who it was.  The man’s groping fingers moved further beneath her skirt, and she lifted her shoulders to throw him off.

    He didn’t budge.

    She heard retreating footsteps outside the stall.  The other man must have left, yet fear still gripped her soul.

    A moment later, the man’s weight lifted from Vanessa.

    Philip struggled with her attacker, and she immediately rolled over to cover herself.  Though it pricked her cheeks, the hay’s sweet odor was a welcome relief from the stench of the stranger’s breath.  She sobbed, wanting to forget what she knew she never would.  Her heart raced, and her lungs burned from the struggle.

    Vanessa gasped when someone touched her again and she snapped her head around to see Philip.  He untied her hands and then draped his coat over her shoulders.  Using the rope, he tied her unconscious attacker.  Stretching her wrists a moment, she struggled to close her jacket.  Half of the buttons were missing, and with shaky fingers, she buttoned the remaining few.

    A warm hand brushed her cheek, pushing away her hair.  Startled, Vanessa instinctively rolled away, but firm hands gripped her shoulders.

    “Vanessa, are you hurt?”  Philip helped her sit up.

    She shook her head and lowered her eyes, too ashamed to look at him.  He hugged her, and she fell against his chest, crying.  “Who was that, and what did they want?”

    “We’ll find out soon enough.  I’ll return with father and we can get him to the authorities.  Let’s get you up to the manor.”

    Their boots echoed on the cobblestone floor of the expansive stable on their way out.  Philip’s arm around her shoulder gave her comfort, but couldn’t stop her tears.

                                                      * * * * *

    Later that afternoon, after a bath and long rest and being tended by her maid, Avie, Vanessa sat at her dressing table while Avie combed her hair.  This morning’s incident had shaken her to the core.  How could something like that happen at her own home?  She was nearly raped, for God sakes.  With a hand to her chest, Vanessa took a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to rid herself of the dirty feelings the incident had inflicted on her.

    “There, milady.  Your hair is finished.  It will hold through any ride.”  Avie paused and met her gaze in the mirror.  “Are you sure you want to go out so soon?”

    Vanessa’s mind still reeled from her attack.  To go out in public and risk another attack, should the men be brave enough to attempt it, wasn’t wise but to stay hidden was ludicrous.  Besides, who would be so stupid as to attack someone in Hyde Park?  Philip would be with her.

    She shook off her tormenting thoughts.  “Yes, Avie.  I’ll be fine.  I just need to get some fresh air.  Whoever those scoundrels were, they won’t make me fear living.”

    Avie helped her into the forest-green riding habit and black boots, then handed her the matching hat, complete with dark green plume.

    “Lord Deveraux said he would be waiting for you with your mare at the step, milady.”  Avie stepped back, admiring her outfit.

    “Thank you, Avie.”

    Still occupied with thoughts of the incident in the stable, Vanessa left her chamber and proceeded down the marble stairs to find Philip outside.  Anxious to be on her way, she mounted with the groom’s assistance.

    Philip nudged his horse close to Vanessa after they rode away.  “Do you really think it’s wise to be out riding with what just happened?  I think you’re taking too much of a risk so soon.”

    “I know everyone is concerned, but I refuse to hide.  They won’t scare me into staying home all the time.  You must know I can’t do that?”

    “Yes, I realize that, but I can’t help wanting to keep you safe while Jonathan’s gone.  I do think being betrothed agrees with you, Vanessa,” Philip teased, “although I should talk with Jonathan.  He must quit these trips to the colonies; what with war going on over there it isn’t safe for him anyway.”

    Urging her mount forward, Vanessa bantered back.  “I do hope you don’t feel responsible for me just because Jonathan isn’t here,” she called over her shoulder after she raced her horse ahead on the way into London.

    Philip quickly caught up.  “I’ve teased you for so many years, why should I stop now?”

    “I had hoped once you grew up, you’d outgrow your childish teasing and your silly pranks.”

    “When I get so much enjoyment watching you blush and become so frustrated you embarrass yourself?”

    Vanessa could only shake her head in disbelief of his attitude.  As she and Philip rode through Hyde Park, many other riders were out enjoying the sunny afternoon.  The fresh air did wonders for her emotionally and her spirit lightened when she spotted the Duke of North Yorkshire riding toward them.

    “Good afternoon, Philip, Vanessa.”  He touched the brim of his hat.

    “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”  Vanessa smiled at Michael Clairmont as his mount came to ride beside hers, politely protecting her between himself and Philip.  She almost called him Captain Clairmont, the likeness to his brother, Nathan, being so strong.

    The duke wore dark-blue velvet riding clothes; the white-lace jabot at his neck and at his cuffs only enhanced his tanned complexion.  Even though he and Nathan were brothers, Vanessa decided they looked more like twins.

    She and Nathan had been friends since his hiring as fleet captain for her father a year ago, but found it strange that no one had ever mentioned Nathan’s likeness to his brother Michael.  Their resemblance still shocked her, though this wasn’t the first meeting she’d had with the duke.

    Michael met her gaze, likely reading her curiosity and her cheeks warmed that he should catch her staring.  She was glad he decided to speak first.
“I know it’s been several months, but I haven’t had an opportunity yet to personally give you my best wishes on your betrothal.”

    His smile kept her attention focused on his features.  “Thank you.  Did you enjoy the opera last week?  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak with you then.”

    “I enjoyed it very much.”  He commented on the mare that she’d received from Jonathan.  “Did you enjoy training her?”

    “Yes, I did.  I’ve named her Athena.  She’s helped pass the time for me while Jonathan is gone.”

    The duke paused a moment.  “There’s a concert next week at Hanover Square.  Will you be attending?”

    Before Vanessa could refuse, Philip quickly spoke up.  “Of course we’ll attend.  It’ll get Vanessa out of the house.  God knows she’s done nothing since Jonathan left.  I’m escorting Lady Anna McBain.  You should join us, Your Grace.  The four of us will have a splendid time!  Don’t you agree, Vanessa?”

    She glanced at Philip with raised eyebrows and laughed.  “You mean you wouldn’t mind dragging your baby sister along?”

    “If Vanessa doesn’t mind the company, I would be happy to attend with you,” the duke stated.

    Vanessa rode along as Philip led their small group to a less traveled path, away from the throng of people.  Michael followed, their horses’ hooves crunching on the gravel.  The fresh scent of new foliage drifted past with the warm breeze, filling Vanessa with a sense of renewal.

    Michael leaned forward to glance at Philip, catching his attention, then raised an eyebrow to Vanessa.  “He will probably be so engrossed in attending to Lady Anna, I don’t think he’ll notice that we’re anywhere near them.”

    Hearing thundering hooves behind them, Vanessa turned around in time to see several horses burst from a copse of trees, the riders having drawn their swords.  Two riders quickly rode up, slipping between and separating Philip and Michael’s horses away from Vanessa’s while yet a third rider appeared.

    Before she could react, a strong arm grasped her about the waist, and dragged her from the saddle, the kidnapper then road off to disappear around the bend in the path.

    Vanessa didn’t realize she held her breath as she dangled and bounced against her abductor’s leg.  With rising panic, she pried at her assailant’s arm, but couldn’t free herself.

    Then she remembered the dirk she carried in her boot.  She wanted to be prepared to fight back.  Luckily, Philip had come along just in time this morning in the stable, and because of his timely appearance, one of the men had been arrested.

    These men today won’t be any luckier, either!

    With determination, she stretched her hand into her boot, and pulled out the small dagger.  Gripping its handle, she stabbed into the muscled arm that held her and freed herself.

    Vanessa slipped from his grasp, pushing away from the horse at the same time to save herself from being trampled.  She rolled along the ground, trying to keep her eyes on the men, but her head hit a rock.

    Through a thickening haze, she saw the stranger turn his horse to retrieve her.

    “You sniveling little bitch!” he growled.  “You can’t possibly be worth all this.”

    Michael and Philip rode toward her at a rapid pace.  Yanking on the reins, her assailant turned his horse yet again, and sped from the scene.

    Blackness overtook Vanessa’s world; all movement ceased.

                                                * * * *

    “Michael, check Vanessa.  I’ll follow the rider,” Philip called out and raced away.

    Michael knelt at Vanessa’s side.  With tender care, he checked her arms and legs; nothing appeared broken.  Her swollen left wrist lay in his hand and a bloody gash cut across her forehead.  Brushing away a few locks of hair from her warm cheek, he whispered her name.  Vanessa moaned and turned her head into his hand, slowly opening her eyes.  She appeared to gaze through him.

    Michael tried to rouse her.  “Do you feel all right?”

    Still she didn’t answer, only stared into space a moment before closing her eyes again.

    “Vanessa!  Vanessa!” he called with more urgency, gently rubbing her hand.  “You must open your eyes.  Please?”  Michael brushed her cheek again with the backs of his fingers, worried he might lose her.  Her pale face looked so fragile.  He’d been too late to save Clarissa, but he prayed he’d not been late this time.

    Fluttering lashes rose to expose her green eyes.  “Nathan?  What’s happened?” she asked, continuing to blink from the bright sun.

    “Michael,” he corrected, hoping she hadn’t figured out he was both men.  He hated deceiving her, but it was a necessity.  “I’m Michael, remember?  We were riding in Hyde Park before you were attacked.”

    “Michael?”  Vanessa appeared to ponder his name as she stared at him.  “Oh, yes.  I remember now, we were riding…with Philip.  Where is he?”

    “He went after your attackers.”

    Vanessa placed her hand on her head, and Michael noticed the blood on her sleeve.  Had he missed an open wound?  An agonizing tightness gripped his heart, and he rechecked her body for cuts.

    “There’s blood on your sleeve.”

    “I was able to stab one of them with my knife.”

    Frantic, he again searched Vanessa’s arms and shoulders.  “Do you hurt anywhere?” Michael asked her, tightening the muscles of his jaw.  If she’d been stabbed, she may have yet to know it due to the shock she’d just received.

    “Just my head.”

    Carefully, he rolled her to one side to check her back, looking for fresh blood on her riding habit.

    Nothing.

    No cuts.

    No blood.

    His tense muscles eased some and his breathing relaxed. Michael took Vanessa’s hands in his and turned them over, examining each for wounds.
She raised herself up on one elbow to glance around for her knife in the grass, shading her eyes from the sun.  “There’s my knife.  I carry it in my boot.  I must have stabbed him in the arm, which is why he dropped me.”  Vanessa flattened her hand on her forehead, touching it tenderly.  “Of course, I remember now.”

    “You’ve hit your head hard.  Are you sure you want to sit up just yet?”  Michael tried to keep her down so she wouldn’t pass out again.

    “Ooohhh, my head!”

    Tenderly grasping her shoulder, Michael eased her back down on the grass, wondering why she must be so bloody stubborn.  By now, several people had gathered to see the commotion and offered their help.

    “You’re going to have a headache, I’m afraid.”  His temper raged against her attackers.  Michael couldn’t wait to meet up with this band of raiders; he’d personally string each one of them up!

    He glanced up as Philip raced toward them on horseback.  Dismounting, he ran to Vanessa’s side, and then looked at Michael.  “They got away.  Did you recognize any of them?”

    Philip’s face reflected Michael’s own concern and frustration over the situation.  “No, I’ve not seen any of them before.”

    “We’d best get her home.  Vanessa, do you think you can make it?”  Philip cautiously helped her to her feet.  Michael mounted his horse, and Philip lifted Vanessa into his arms.  Still too dazed, she appeared to pay little attention to her surroundings.  Michael gently wrapped his arms about her.  Snuggling into his warmth, Vanessa’s head settled against the hollow of his shoulder.  Her woman’s scent inundated him.  The soft smell of jasmine would forever remind him of her.

    Philip seized the reins of Vanessa’s horse and mounted his own.  Turning his mount, Philip caught up to Michael and they headed toward Deveraux Manor.

                                                * * * *

    Late that night, waves bucked and tossed the four men within the small boat as it made its way through the cold night toward the three-masted ship anchored off the deserted coastline.  Harsh winds made maneuverability more difficult than normal. The men had been instructed to arrive three hours after dark and make sure they weren’t followed.  They dared not disobey their captain’s order; they’d seen him administer ten lashes to bloody a man’s back for not following much simpler instructions.

    The vessel lay straight ahead, swaying with the turbulent waves, causing the single lantern’s light to bounce about the ship’s deck and shine through twenty gun holes.

    Climbing aboard, Striker and Red led the other two men to the captain’s cabin, their swords clanging at their sides.  Other than the sound of boots on deck, the only other noises of the night were the snap of the rustling sails furled to the spar overhead and the howling winds.

    Upon entering the cabin, Striker found the captain talking with two men.  One a bit distinguished, though with a shabbiness to his dress that partnered him with the other poorly dressed man.

    The smell of whiskey hung in the cabin’s stagnant air.  The two men, who had failed to abduct the Deveraux wench, now stood in front of Striker, their heads and eyes downcast, ashamed for bungling their efforts.

    The captain turned on them.  “You stupid idiots!  You actually tried this while she rode with a crowd, in Hyde Park?  In broad daylight!”  He slammed his fist onto the table, and then paced about the dingy room, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.  As one man held his blood-soaked arm, the captain stopped before them.  “Do I need to get real men to do this simple task for me?” he snapped, boxing the ears of the uninjured man.  “Get the hell out of my sight before I have you stripped and tied to the main mast for twenty lashes.  Both of you deserve it!  You’ll hear from me later.”

    The captain grumbled under his breath as he watched the two leave the room, motioning for Striker and Red to be seated.  “We have to put our plans in motion.  Clairmont’s ship sails in one month, and I want that cargo!  We’ll leave one day after Clairmont.  We should catch him soon enough, since his ship will be loaded down and ours won’t.”

    Langley eyed his men.  “You know what to do once we board the Eagle’s Lair, but Clairmont’s mine!  Understood?  He’s been a thorn in my side for too many years, always interfering in my affairs and he’s in the way again.  My blade thirsts for his blood and I'll have it!”

    Langley bent over the maps spread on the table.  “This is where they’re headed,” he said, pointing to an area on the map.  “And here is where we’ll overtake their vessel.”

    His men had ransacked ships at sea for over two years and his coffers were full.  Due to the burning of several other vessels, Langley knew Lloyd’s of London involved themselves heavily with the recent investigations of the burnings.  He would have to be more careful in the future.

    “Have you been keeping an eye on that Deveraux wench?”  Langley wanted her within his coffers as well, to stash away for only his enjoyment...and to complete the revenge he’d had against her family.  He’d had to watch his father wither away from loneliness because Deveraux had married Vanessa’s mother first.  Victoria Deveraux had been engaged to Langley’s father, years after his own mother’s death, and then James came along and stole her from his father.  David vowed he would get even with the Deveraux’s to avenge his father’s loneliness.  He’d been able to get even with Michael Clairmont for stealing Clarissa and destroying the love she’d once felt for him.  Now he could even all scores.

    “We’re still watchin’ her, Cap’n.  Clairmont don’t leave her side and that man o’ his is always somewhere around, too.  And if she’s not wi’ Jonathan Shyler, she’s wi’ her brother.”

    “Don’t get too close to them, they’re excellent swordsmen.  You could end up dead.  When the time is right, I want her picked up.  I don’t care how, but I’ll let you know when.”

    Standing, Langley placed his hands on the table and leaned toward his men.  Narrowing his eyes, he said matter-of-factly, “She’s mine and will remain untouched by the likes ‘o you or you’ll still end up dead!”

    Langley relaxed and sat down.  Eyeing his men, he leaned back into his chair, rubbed his chin, and silently reminisced.  I’ve wanted her for a long time, just a bit longer to wait.  Now isn’t the right time.  Striker took a hefty swig from his cup and then squirmed in his seat.  David chuckled to himself, obviously his earlier tone of voice informed them, in no uncertain terms, that he meant business.

    Refilling his glass with whiskey stolen from a ransacked vessel, David Langley looked at each man.  “The other cargoes are safe, farther up the coastline, and well-hidden in an old deserted castle.  I’ve got four of our men on guard.  Did Luke Turner get hired by Clairmont’s man yet?”

    “He did, Cap’n.  No one suspected a thing.  I met with him a few times, and he says things are goin’ all right.”

    Langley nodded.  “You picked a good man to be a spy on Clairmont’s vessel, but does he know what to do as soon as we connect with their ship?”
“Yes, sir, he does.  Says he won’t let you down.”

    Langley rose, picked up his glass, and paced the room; something he did at the end of each meeting.  He realized the fumbled abduction would make those around Vanessa even more alert.  Frustrated, Langley raked his fingers through his hair, and then tilted his head to loosen the tight muscles in his neck.  A good night’s rest was what he needed.

                                                    * * * *

    Six days later, Avie held her mistress’s black breeches in her hand, out of her reach.  “Milady, do you really think you should be training your mare already?  It’s only been a week since those men attacked you and you shouldn’t be wearing these men’s breeches.  I don’t doubt they brought on the attack.”

    Vanessa stood in her white, flowing lawn shirt with her hands on her hips.  “Avie, I will be fine.  I’ve been kept inside long enough, and I’m tired of all this fussing.  Now give me my breeches so I can get out of here.  Athena grows more restless each day.”

    “Tommy says he’s been walking her everyday--and proper ladies don’t train their own horses!  And in breeches to boot.”

    Snatching the breeches from her maid’s hand, Vanessa startled her and began to dress.  “You know what I think of society and their ideas of what women should do.  I’m well respected by the ton; I just don’t adhere to their simpering mannerisms.”

    Avie bent to help Vanessa with her knee-high leather boots.  “Please, won’t you reconsider, milady?  You’ve a concert to attend this evening, don’t forget.”

    Vanessa picked up her leather gloves and riding crop from the bed and headed for the door.  “I’ll be back in plenty of time to ready myself for this evening,” she called over her shoulder, leaving a disgruntled Avie behind.
As soon as Vanessa stepped onto the verandah, she tipped her face to the sun’s warming rays, standing there for a moment with her eyes closed, enjoying the radiating sensations.  The warmth and fresh air lifted her spirits.  Satisfied, she made her way toward the stables and training corral of Deveraux Manor.  Tommy should have Athena ready by now, having received the message she’d sent him this morning.  Pulling on her gloves, she thought of her attackers again, which tightened her chest.  Her anger peaked and she smacked her riding crop against the stable door as she entered.  No one would make her afraid of living!


*Go to Chapter 4 - "Fire On The Water"