Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Boreas’s yawl and its cargo reached the cove the same time Richard did. He bolted down the hill.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Hamidou nodded, staring at the yawl. His crew helped pull the boat weighted down with the Earl of Chadbourn, a five-man crew, and a chest.
Will leapt out of the boat with a bundle wrapped in paper under his arm. He handed it to Andrew and faced Hamidou.
“Payment, Rais, as you demanded,” he said. The boat crew carried the chest to the sand. Will opened it.
“Is it all there?” the pirate barked.
Richard’s heart sank. If Hamidou decided to count it they would be there all afternoon. If he found it short, the entire deal might fail. He’d keep the money and sell them all.
“I think the tide does not favor delay,” Richard said. “If you want to get out of here, go.” He pointed across the water. The Boreas had not pulled in her guns, but she turned away from the shore and had begun to move away.
Hamidou looked up at the villagers gathered on the hill. Richard didn’t understand his short speech, but he suspected the man told them he would return with their share of the gold. Hamidou pointed at Richard. Making me responsible for their safety.
Hamidou stuffed some coins in a cloth bag and handed them to the uncle. He closed the lid of the trunk and gestured for two of his crew to carry it onto the frigate. For safekeeping.
He doesn’t trust us not to renege if he leaves it here. Doesn’t trust us any more than I trust him.
Hamidou looked at Richard then and reached into his robe. He pulled out Richard’s signet ring. “Yours, English.”
“Keep it,” Richard said rapidly before he had time to regret the impulse. “Send it to me in London when you see that the village is safe and I have kept my word. Keep yours.”
The two men locked eyes for a long moment. Hamidou looked away first. He pocketed the ring.
“We will not meet again, English.”
“I hope not,” Richard replied. “I will have to kill you next time.”
Hamidou grinned, saluted, and trotted up the gangplank.
“Is he really Rais Hamidou?” Will asked.
“Probably not,” Richard said, “But to these people, it makes no difference. He’s their savior.”
The three men stood shoulder to shoulder watching the frigate pull away. Andrew handed the bundle he held toward Richard.
Richard looked at it curiously. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Open it,” Will said.
Richard turned to leave. “Later,” he said over his shoulder. “I need to go to Lily.”
“You might want it,” Will and Andrew both insisted. Richard turned back, took it from them, and tore a corner of the paper. His fingers touched black serge. He looked up at the smiles of his friends.
A large boulder lay at the bottom of the path leading to the village. Richard put down the bundle and opened it all the way. A silk shirt, trousers, and a jacket tumbled out. A rumpled neckcloth lay under the jacket.
“No boots. Sorry. We can worry about stockings on ship. Go greet Lily like an Englishman,” Will urged.
“No time.” He shoved the bundle back into Andrew’s arms. “I’ll bathe in the surf and use these later.” He began to run. I’ve worn this filthy rag for two months. Another few hours won’t kill me.
Richard ran until he skidded to a stop inside the uncle’s house. The silence he found alarmed him; he darted forward. Is she well? Has someone taken her? Has she— He couldn’t allow the thought that she might die. He shoved open the door and hung on the frame, panting. His heart turned over.
The old grandmother insisted Lily put the baby to her breast as soon as she cleaned the little one.
“Grandmother say healthy for mother. Helps empty,” Izza had no words for afterbirth. She waved a hand as if that explained everything. Izza’s face sagged as if in disappointment. “So sorry, Lady. The baby only a girl. I go now.” Just like that she left.
Lily didn’t care. She watched her baby suckle and wondered how any woman could choose not to nurse her own child. She continued while grandmother cleaned up all signs of the birth and grumbled about the unreliable Izza.
The old woman approached the bed with a warm soapy towel. “Bathe now,” she said, but the sound of running feet interrupted further conversation.
The door flew open and Richard stood, breathing heavily. He must have run all the way from the cove, Lily thought, watching his chest heave. She removed the sleeping baby from her breast and pulled up her shift. She lifted the little bundle higher.
“Come meet your daughter,” she called. Her voice sounded hoarse from crying out. Richard stumbled to the bed, transfixed with wonder, and dropped to his knees beside her.
“Are you well?” he asked, searching her face.
“As you see. Tired but otherwise fine. So is the baby,” she tipped the swaddled bundle in her arms toward him.
“Daughter.” He echoed what she said, staring at the white fluff on the little head. “You were right.” Tears began to run down his face. He dropped his head to the bed.
Crying? Her heart sank. She put out a hand to touch his hair.
“Are you disappointed?”
His head bobbed up. “Heavens, no. Relieved beyond words. She’s beautiful,” he said, wiping his face. “I just—” He let the apology die and put out a tentative hand to touch the wrap surrounding their baby. “Are they all so small?”
Lily chuckled over that bit of nonsense. “I believe so. You wanted a son, though. I’m not sorry.”
“We have a healthy daughter in spite of everything. Right now she is all that I could want,” he said without taking his eyes from the little one.
“It is better that she is a girl, Richard, better if your son is born after we legalize this marriage you claim we have.”
“Probably. We would have found a way—Will and Andrew are working on it, in fact—but yes, this one is a great blessing.” He meant it. He couldn’t take his eyes from her.
“Do you want to hold her?”
Panic lit his face, quickly suppressed by longing. “May I?” He rose and sat on the edge of the bed.
“You certainly may,” Lily said. She handed the bundle over to her father, lay back, and watched Richard fall in love with his daughter.
“Her eyes are green,” he said. “Like yours.”
“They may change. Sometimes—”
“No. I forbid it. Our daughter will look like her mother.”
He smiled down at Lily.
The grandmother came then and reached for the baby. Richard looked as if he would refuse.
“Are we not free to go?” Lily asked, old familiar fear driving through the fog of contentment that had enveloped her.
“Yes! I should have said. Hamidou and his men have gone. The landing craft and its crew wait for us in the cove.”
Lily struggled up onto her elbows. “Then we must go as quickly as we can.”
The grandmother pushed Lily down with alarm.
“Lady sleep now,” she insisted. She made shooing gestures with her hands.
“Do we have time for me to nap?” Lily asked over a yawn. Her eyes began to drift shut.
“A little,” he said. If he said more, Lily didn’t hear.
She awoke moments later, or perhaps much longer.
She couldn’t tell. The grandmother had disappeared.
Richard sat on a stool next to her with a basket at his feet.
His ragged blue robe had disappeared. He wore clothing that may not have been the height of fashion, but which was decidedly English. His hair looked damp.
“The baby?” she said, pushing up on her elbows in panic.
He pointed to the basket. It had two handles for carrying. Inside, the baby slept peacefully. “You both needed rest after your hard work.”
Lily felt like she could sleep for weeks. “But we must leave.”
“The boat is ready, but Lily, we need to talk first.”
Of course. Real life has returned. Her heart sank.
“Please don’t take her from me, Richard. That’s all I ask.”