Before noon they were within sight of the red roofs and sun-washed pastel buildings of Bridgetown. Lilah and Joss reined in on top of a grassy hill overlooking the serene wash of the ocean to the west and the bustling town sprawling out from the sapphire curve of Bridgetown Bay just ahead. From their vantage point they could also see a considerable way back down the road over which they had traveled. The heat was intense, the sun bright; the horses, her own sorrel mare Candida and a big bay gelding called Tuk, were tired out.
Dismounting to rest the animals, which had been pushed hard by their headlong flight, Joss and Lilah sprawled wearily in the long grass as the horses lowered their heads to drink from the stream that cut across the hillside. So far there had been no sign of pursuit. It seemed as if their decision to flee directly to Bridgetown, where they would sell the horses to buy passage on whatever ship might be sailing with the next tide, had been the right one. As Lilah had pointed out, nothing would be gained by trying to hide themselves on Barbados until her father forgot about them. Her father would never forget about them. Their only hope was to find a ship that was leaving Barbados for any destination whatsoever before word could be gotten to the harbormaster that they were being sought. Later, when they were safely out of the reach of her father and the militia, they could worry about getting to England.
Sitting with her back against the huge twisted trunk of a baobab tree, Lilah idly stroked Joss's hair-he was stretched out, his head resting on her lap-and considered their situation. She was exhausted, dirty, hungry, and frightened. The night before she'd had no sleep, and her lemon-yellow muslin dress, never intended to withstand the rigors of riding, was hideously crumpled and stained. In addition, she was only half dressed, not having bothered with stays, stockings, or more than one petticoat when she had donned her clothes to go in search of Joss the night before. Still, she was better off than Joss. He was barefoot, unshaven, clad only in the ripped trousers, with bruises turning livid all over his torso. It occurred to her that they might have a problem she had not previously considered: What respectable ship's captain would agree to take aboard such disreputable-looking passengers, without papers or baggage of any kind?
She said as much to Joss.
"We'll pay them enough so that they won't ask too many questions. The horses should bring a good price. Enough to get us aboard a ship, at least, with a tidy bit left over. And I thought to buy us both what clothes we need before we approach the ship. Then we'll have baggage and we'll be dressed appropriately. That should make things easier."
He sat up, smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. With his unshaven jaw and bare chest he looked the complete brigand. Despite her worry Lilah smiled back. Cost what it might, she still had no doubts, none, about her decision. If only they could get safely away!
"Come on, we've rested long enough," Joss said, his thoughts apparently running parallel to hers. He stood up, wincing at the soreness of his bruises, and held a hand down to her. Lilah allowed him to pull her up, then ran a questing hand along his ribcage.
"Are you sure nothing's broken?" she asked worriedly. He had taken quite a beating from Kevin-and he had been the victor. She shuddered to think what Kevin must feel like now. Or what he was doing. What her father was doing.
"Positive. Don't worry, I've survived far worse than a few bruises."
"I know." She smiled at him again, really smiled this time. He looked down at her for an instant, his eyes turning grave. Then he bent his head and kissed her.
As they mounted their horses, Lilah chanced to look back down the road. What she saw brought fear shooting through her: a dozen or so uniformed riders cresting the next rise over, coming fast.
"Joss…" Mouth drying, she could not say more, but wordlessly pointed back down the road.
He looked, and his face tightened.
"They're militia! Do you think it's us they're after?" Her voice was high-pitched with dread.
"From the way they're riding I'd say it's likely. I sure don't propose to stay here and find out for certain. Come on!"
They urged their tired horses into a gallop, heading for town. The land thereabouts was entirely under cultivation, and there was no place to hide even if they'd wanted to.
The pounding of the horses' hooves against the hard- packed dirt road echoed the fear-quickened drumming of Lilah's heart. Bending low over Candida's neck, urging her to greater speed despite the distance she'd already traveled that day, Lilah knew deep in her heart that they were not going to get away. Joss raced beside her, his face grim, his bare back gleaming bronze in the bright sunlight. He rode the horse as if he'd been born to it.
From behind them a musket spat. The ball whizzed past her ear. Instinctively Lilah ducked. Every thought but one vanished: Her worst nightmare was about to come true. They would be caught and returned to Heart's Ease, where Joss would face her father's vengeance. And Lilah knew all too well that to Leonard Remy, nothing could be more hideous than the fact that she and Joss had been lovers. Her father would see Joss dead.
Another musket barked behind them. The ball whistled past, closer to Joss this time. He ducked, looking back over his shoulder to where the militia were closing fast. His jaw tightened, and his mouth clamped into a hard, straight line.
"Pull up!" he ordered, his face grim.
Lilah turned her head, looking at him in open- mouthed astonishment. She could not have heard him properly…
"I said pull up!" It was a roar this time, and there was no mistaking the words.
Another musket ball sang through the air, a hair to Joss's right. Joss leaned dangerously far out of the saddle to grab at Candida's reins. He caught them, and despite Lilah's wild cry of protest, pulled both Candida and Tuk to a rearing stop.
"No!" Lilah cried out, fighting him for control of her horse.
"They're shooting at me, but they're not particular. They could very well hit you," he said grimly, releasing her reins as he wheeled Tuk to face the onrushing horsemen. Lilah was free to run, but without him beside her there was no purpose in it. Besides, she realized, as Joss must have, that being taken was inevitable. Their tired horses could not outrun the fresher horses behind them.
Like Joss, she wheeled her horse to face their doom, waiting at his side in proud despair.
In the instant before the horsemen were upon them, Lilah looked at Joss.
"I love you," she said, knowing that she might never again have a chance to tell him. Tears rose to her eyes, spilled down her cheeks. He saw the tears, and his eyes darkened. Leaning over in the saddle, he kissed her once, quick and hard. In full view of the onrushing militia.
"I love you, too," he said. His eyes met hers, and her heart turned over at the expression she saw in them.
Then the militia thundered up, surrounding them. Lilah's reins were jerked from her hands, while Joss was wrestled from his horse to the ground. Lying on his stomach in the dirt, shackles were fastened around his wrists and he was put in irons.
"Don't hurt him!" Lilah cried out, unable to stop herself although she knew that to plead for him was a waste of her breath. "He hasn't done anything!"
"He's a bloody horse thief, to begin with, and he damned near beat my overseer to death! Before I'm much older I mean to see him hang!" boomed a steely voice. Shocked, Lilah looked around to see her father riding toward her. He'd apparently been at the rear of the group, and she'd missed spotting him in the sea of uniforms. Not accustomed to hard riding, he had nevertheless managed to keep up with men thirty years his junior in pursuit of his errant daughter. That alone told Lilah just how furious he must be. Feeling the door of the cage slam shut against her, she looked hopelessly, helplessly, at Joss. He was being yanked roughly to his feet. Half a dozen members of the militia surrounded him, pistols at the ready. More militiamen, still mounted, held muskets. They were well and truly caught. There was no escape.
Leonard Remy took Candida's reins from the uniformed man who held them, and greeted his daughter with no more than a single icy glance. Lilah swallowed. She had seen her father in many moods, including thunderous rages, but she had never seen him like this. He looked as though his face had turned to stone, and his heart with it.
"I thank you, Captain Tandy, for your good work. I'll be taking my daughter home now, and I trust you know what to do with that scoundrel there."
"He'll be taken to St. Anne's Fort, sir, and imprisoned there to await trial for the crime of horse stealing, and any other charges you might care to bring. You can contact Colonel Harrison, head of the garrison, or-"
"I know him," Leonard interrupted testily. "You'll be hearing from me, I assure you."
Without further ado, her father nodded curtly at the officer. He held Lilah's reins in a grip so tight that his knuckles were white with it. Shock at what was happening dried her eyes. In Barbados, horse thieves were hung. But as terrible as that fate was, it was better than being dragged back to Heart's Ease as a runaway slave, to be summarily executed by her father. His apparent intent not to take personal vengeance on Joss puzzled her, but she did not dwell on it, not then. There was so little time left, time only to make one last desperate appeal to the father who had never denied her anything in her life.
"Papa, please! Won't you try to understand? I love him "
Before Lilah could guess what he was about, Leonard Remy twisted in the saddle, his meaty hand swinging around to make sharp contact with the side of her face. The blow sounded as loud as a shot, even over the stamping of the horses, rattling of the tack, and the voices of the men. Lilah gasped, her hand flying to her injured cheek, her heart stinging even more than her face. He had never struck her before, ever.
"Shut your mouth, daughter!"
Lilah stared at her father in dumb shock. Some of the militiamen gaped, some pointedly looked away. Joss's eyes fastened on the pair of them, flamed emerald with rage, but, chained, he was helpless to come to her defense. Horses and men stood between them, too many to permit the exchange of so much as a final word.
"Do not shame yourself, or me, further. Or I swear I'll take you home gagged and tied." Leonard Remy's voice was a growl almost as cold as his eyes.
"Papa, please…" It was a piteous plea.
"No more!" he thundered, face reddening with choler, eyes bulging as he glared at her.
Then he yanked at Candida's reins so that Lilah, unwarned of the mare's sudden start, was almost unhorsed. She had to grab at the saddle horn for balance. Urging his horse to a brisk canter, he set off for home, dragging his heartsick daughter behind him.