ROSEDALE IN APRIL
Chapter Thirty-One
Flurries of a fresh glistening snow began to
drift down on the countryside at Rosedale Plantation like tiny white feathers
as chilly winds whispered eerie prophetic warnings. Upon returning from the
stables and finding no sign of Rose, a curious Rafael Bouvier had been informed
by Lizzie that his daughter had ventured into the nearby woods to gather
whimsical nature’s treasures to decorate for the upcoming Yuletide.
Disappointed, Rafael opted to wait in the study with a glass of brandy, letting
his mind aimlessly wander to that previous fateful spring…a time he almost
wished to erase…almost.
He had made a solemn vow to himself…to help
his daughter avoid a loveless marriage to a man she despised, in the only way
he knew how. By eliminating that cruel-hearted Bukater, it would consequently
dispose of the source of blackmail which was forcing his daughter into an
arranged marriage with that Henley chap. Sterling Bukater had taken everything
he had ever cherished and loved then ruthlessly destroyed them. For Rafael was
convinced he had murdered Sable that tragic August evening long ago. As the
memories of that tragic event came rushing back, he longingly envisioned Sable
slipping the St. Mary’s necklace around his neck as a keepsake for Rose…and quickly
pushing him out her balcony door…and that was the last time he had ever seen
her alive. But in spite of it all, he had refused to allow Bukater to treat his
daughter as if she was a mere piece of property to be bartered to the highest
bidder like Sable’s father had done to her. As the gory details of that April
night on the road into Baton Rouge came back to haunt him, he deeply sighed.
For Bukater had cowered in one breath and then in the other laughed in disdain
at the audacity of being confronted with a gun by a lowly gypsy. Seemingly
guiltlessly, Rafael had purposefully killed the man; yet nonetheless, he knew
someday, one day, he would pay the ultimate price for murder. But it was worth
it if it saved Rose from an empty, miserable life like her mother’s, he
lamented. Besides, regrets were few and far between in this life. The hallway
clock struck another late hour jerking him out of his silent revelry. Bringing
him back to the present and another matter at hand…it was late but Rose still
had not returned to the manor.
Pacing like a caged panther, a worried Rafael
finally came to a decision and hurriedly threw on a heavy black wool cape
before grabbing up the rifle over the fireplace mantle…and checking for
ammunition. Something wasn’t right. Rose was in trouble; he sensed it more with
each passing minute. Maybe she had gone into early labor or perhaps even gotten
lost in the forests. But somehow, he got the uncanny premonition that it was
neither the onset of childbirth or lost bearings on a well-traveled trail.
Besides, he had known ever since arriving back in Texas that she had harbored
fears of being stalked. Hadn’t he himself experienced the same thing firsthand
that very first day of their reunion when a phantom rider had fiercely galloped
off into the thicket? He should have insisted that she always remain inside the
house…to never leave unprotected. The longer he tried to wait her out, the more
anxious and sick with dread he became. Some inconceivable prompting whispered
for Rafael to go…find his daughter before it was too late!
*****
Far away on the outskirts of Biloxi,
Mississippi from the depths of a nightmare…or least he prayed it was just an
awful dream, Captain Jack Dalton awoke with a start, actually trembling and in
a cold sweat despite the cool breezes blowing in from the Gulf. It was so
vivid…so clear…like nothing he had ever dreamt before. Shaking his
sleep-tousled head to clear his mind, the haunting desperate plea for help
still clung, still echoed over and over. It was impossible, he knew, but the
apparition of Fabrizio di Rossi had come to him…awoke him from the realms of
sleep by fiercely clutching his hand with ice cold, transparent fingers…then in
that familiar thick Italian accent, Fabri had desperately begged.
"Captain Dalton! Miss Rose and the
bambino are in grave danger! You must go back to Texas before it’s too late!
Hurry Captain Dalton! They need you!"
And then it had ended as quickly as it had
began. The foggy human-shaped mist had evaporated before his very eyes. But
that was impossible, it must be his mind playing tricks in the darkness…he
didn’t believe in ghosts, goblins, or spooks. The afterlife was either heaven
or hell…not dead people supernaturally inhabiting and haunting Earth. But
somehow, he couldn’t shake the odd, mystical feeling that this was no
sleep-induced nightmare. Laying back, Jack reached into his pocket to light up
a smoke to calm his nerves, and that’s when Rose’s gold St. Mary’s medallion
slipped from his hand. How did that get in my hand? It’s been around my neck
from the time I left Rosedale. I haven’t taken it off…not once! The answer
immediately came to him. The ghost of Fabrizio had placed it in his hand as a
kind of tangible proof of the truth…the dangerous truth that could shape the
future and their destiny for better or worse!
Visibly shaken, Jack hurriedly pulled on his
boots and tried to stop the painful pounding of his heart. He must get to
Rose…somehow…some way. Nothing else mattered at that moment…not the
war—nothing! And when he got to Rosedale, and everything was miraculously all
right…well, maybe Rose would see fit to intervene on his behalf to her Uncle
Ulysses, perhaps staving off his impending court martial for desertion!
*****
The wings of time seemed to be clipped, the
days dragged by with nerve-racking slowness. Despite having a pair of horses to
alternate between when one grew lathered and tired, Jack wasn’t making good
enough time in his anxious miserable mind! Give me wings, dear God, give me
wings!
*****
Meanwhile, deep in the east Texas pine
forests, an incessant throbbing pierced Rose’s temples. A crackling of a fire
drew her dazed mind to try and concentrate as to her whereabouts and what had
transpired. Where was she? How long had she been unconscious? Moaning in pain,
she rubbed her eyes to try to focus on her surroundings.
"So you’re awake!" An all too
familiar, sinister sneer exploded into her consciousness. Peering through the
dimness, green eyes collided and finally focused on black spheres of pure
hatred…evil eyes she immediately recalled before she had been knocked
unconscious.
"Cal…what the hell are you doing here
and why have you bound me up like I’m some type of prisoner?" Rose’s
astonished shrill pierced the frigid night air as she clumsily struggled to sit
upright as best she could with her hands tied behind her back. The sudden
movement caused her to precariously sway for she was still weak and dizzy.
"Why? You dare to ask why?"
Frightening empty eyes that chilled to the bone ran down the length of her
before stopping in contempt at her swollen middle. The derisive leer sent the
hackles creeping along Rose’s neck. "A trashy slut…just like your mother.
Although obscenely beautiful and rich beyond imagination…still a lowly whore
just the same. Proof that all the money in the world can’t breed class."
"How dare you talk about my mother…you
have no right…you never even knew her!" Rose adamantly defended as two
bright spots of color sprang to her ashen cheeks.
"To hell you say! That’s where you’re
wrong, my dear stupid girl! For I knew of the notorious Sable DeWitt even
before Bukater latched onto her. Hell, every man in the country was aware of
her eligibility as the finest catch around. Regrettably, she foolishly spurned
my attentions and I swore that she would pay for her unwise indifference and
haughty decision. And she will…she really will! For if I can’t have her,
you ought to satisfy my requirements in a wife regardless of your inherited
brazen, filthy ways."
"You’re crazy, Henley. Just slither off
into the bushes like the snake you are and nobody has to know what you’ve done,
because you’ll never get away with this. I’m certainly not going to marry you
if that’s what’s going through that sick, deranged mind of yours!" That
said, Rose coldly and defiantly spat at his feet.
Enraged, Cal struck like a poisonous viper.
Savagely seizing Rose by her delicate ivory throat, he forced her to stand
upright and slowly squeezed applying unbearable pressure. As Rose helplessly
struggled for breath, her face began to flush crimson before Henley slowly
regained his deranged senses, such as they were. Cursing, he viciously shoved
her back to the ground in annoyance and rage.
"If you value your bastard’s life, you
will speak when spoken to, Rose…and then in the respectful manner that I deserve.
Is this in any way unclear?" Ominously standing over her like a
thundercloud that threatened to strike her dead with a bolt of lightning, Rose
merely nodded. Too afraid to speak…if not for herself but certainly for the
life growing inside her that seemed to remind her of its presence with a
profound kick at that precise moment. Placing a protective hand to her enlarged
abdomen, Henley watched the unconscious movement and darkly scowled. Agitatedly
rubbing his neck, he swung around and fell to his knees in front of her as if
he had lost all control of his bearings. And when Rose glimpsed his twisted
countenance, she knew that he was indeed a mentally wounded man gone completely
insane. Almost pitifully, almost, he softly caressed her cheek and wretchedly
whined, "The child should have been mine. I could have given you
everything, Rose…wealth, power, prestige and all the babies you could ever
want! All you had to do was say the vows. And let me…"
"Let you what, Henley? I don’t love you
or will I ever! You don’t love me either! And no man will ever marry me unless
I say so…" Rose hotly corrected immediately regretful as the deceptive
tenderness instantly erupted once more into a black rage.
"You bitch! You will marry me…you
will!" Cal blasted and shook her as if she were a mere rag doll.
His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white while his
breathing took on a heavily labored rhythm.
"You would marry me in the condition
that I am in?" Rose incredulously blustered. Trying to change tactics to
ease some of the fury she read in his dark face in order to save her unborn
child from the possible harm she was confident Cal was capable of inflicting.
It was the hardest task she’d ever do…to believably hide the anger and loathing
boiling inside her. It took every bit of willpower she had to keep from cursing
Henley out loud—for the unimaginable bastard that he was.
"That depends." Cal noncommittally
hinted before his coal black eyes slid to her extended middle and glowered.
"On what?" Rose warily baited.
"On whose child it is. Or do you even
know?" Cal snarled in disgust.
"That is none of your business. Besides
I’m getting married to its father as soon as this war is over."
"Like hell you are! You’re marrying me
regardless…even if it’s Dalton’s. But preferably, it’ll be that dark headed
buck’s that’s currently staying at Rosedale. Is it?" Cal contrived.
"Rafael’s?" Rose shockingly
stammered. Yet then, her mind astutely attempted to sort out the madness that
was running through the brain of a crazed Caledon Henley. What the hell
difference did it make whose baby she was carrying? Besides, obviously
it wasn’t the Major’s and even in his deranged state, Cal had to grasp that!
What was Henley’s sick reasoning leading up to? The only way to know
that answer was to slyly question him without his knowing her intent.
"Is that his name? Rafael?" Cal
hotly flashed.
Rose remained silent at first staring
intently into Cal’s twisted, sardonic countenance…trying to detect any sort of
logic to his ludicrous accusations. Very haltingly and precisely, Rose chose
her next words carefully.
"Yes, the man that lives with me is
Rafael Bouvier…that is true. I’ve known him for many years. I’ve loved him for
just as many…as he does me!" Rose calculatedly revealed then peered at him
from beneath downcast eyes to witness the impact her misleading confession
reaped.
"You were cavorting with him all this
time? After you were betrothed to me?" Cal jealously fumed as he swiftly
grabbed her upper arm and cruelly twisted.
"We have a bond that can never be
broken…by no one." Rose truthfully admitted.
"And Dalton? Where does he stand in this
little sordid love triangle?" Despite the absurd situation, Cal wolfishly
grinned.
Swallowing hard and averting her guilty green
eyes to conceal her heart, Rose nervously stammered, "I was just the
spoils of war to your Yankee Captain. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing
less." Rose convincingly lied but secretly admitted when those feelings
were actually true all those months ago when Jack had first arrived at Rosedale
and had taken her for his mistress. Although it galled her to defile their
relationship to this piece of trash, she instinctively realized it was
necessary under the circumstances. Cal must not suspect her baby was Jack’s.
For some innate reason that she still had not figured out, it was absolutely
imperative.
"Then the brat should be born with black
hair and dark eyes. Like mine. Is that what you’re telling me?" A strange,
irrational sort of hope began to flicker in the dark evil depths of Cal’s
glazed eyes. Nevertheless, it was enough for Rose to finally conclude what was
going through that insane mind. A child that would pass for Cal’s …a child
Henley could now, thanks to Jack, never produce.
"Only God knows…but it’s very possible I
suppose." Rose truthfully whispered because as Rafael was her blood
father, it was certainly within the realms of genetics that his dark physical
characteristics could be dominant in the gene pool. However, Rose had the
uncanny premonition that her baby would be an exact duplicate of its father.
Tragically, at this dangerous stage in the absurd game that Henley was
playing…that was not good, not good at all!
"I’ll make you a deal, Rose. If you’re
telling the truth and the bastard is born with my features, I’ll allow
it to live. But after you whelp and it looks like Dalton…well…too damn
bad!" To emphasize his point, Cal shrugged then maliciously grinned before
a sinister deep laugh exploded from his chest.
Swallowing with difficulty, Rose’s throat
worked convulsively before she managed to dreadfully probe, "And if my
baby is born resembling me? What then?"
Glaring at her, Cal scornfully railed,
"I refuse to have a brat around that reminds me of you and your slut of a
mother. It’ll give me nothing but grief and I’ll always have to be watching my
back! So you better pray, Rose…you better fucking pray!"
Stunned, Rose gulped. Although she possessed
enormous inner strength, it was the most difficult thing she had ever had to do
to stifle her churning, seething emotions and to keep an outward serene
composure. It was several hours later before she mustered the courage to speak
again.
"Cal…you plan on keeping me imprisoned
until the baby is born?"
"No, Rose. Longer than that! For a
lifetime…now go to sleep. I’m growing weary of this useless prattle. I have to
think…" Cal trailed off before squatting by the campfire and punching and
prodding at the half burned out logs with a stick.
Heaving a calming breath, Rose tiredly closed
her watering green eyes momentarily and silently prayed for a miraculous
rescue. A thousand flickering stars and a bright yellow moon overhead helped to
calm her frayed nerves to some small degree. Despite a hardened resolve, a single
solitary tear trickled down her cheek as she reminisced of Jack. A small smile
simultaneously played on her lips as she dreamed of their magical April romance
before another dull cramp jerked her out back to the precarious present. Not
now my darling baby…oh please, not now!
*****
Rafael was an excellent tracker that was
taught from his gypsy birth how to expertly hunt for food to nourish the
nomadic band of kin. Right away, he discovered Rose’s discarded wicker basket
that was half full of pine cones and holly branches scattered across a small
snowdrift. There were signs of a lone rider and a smattering of blood nearby
that especially caused his heart to lurch. Ruby red droplets smeared against
the pure whiteness…evidence of a struggle.
Since most of the male plantation workers
were away on Galveston Island fighting the war, only a handful of the most
ancient men were left behind. Consequently, Rafael was virtually left to
single-handedly track and rescue his daughter. He knew she had been
kidnapped…the signs were evident that she had not gone willingly. But he had to
succeed and save her…there was no other option…his daughter and grandchild
depended on him.
All through the freezing night, Rafael
doggedly followed the trail to Rose. Although it might normally be easy because
of the fresh snow, the dense thickets allowed insufficient moonlight to filter
within making it nigh to impossible to see. But still he stubbornly pressed
onward. Eventually before dawn, he came to a large clearing and far off in the distance,
he detected a small campfire.
*****
Despite everything, Rose had somehow fell
into a fitful doze, for she didn’t fully awaken until a hand at her shoulder
shook her gently while a masculine tanned hand covered her mouth. Startled,
wide emerald eyes connected with those of her father. A deep, relieved gasp
escaped her as she recognized Rafael, who placed an index finger to his mouth
to relay a message for silence. As her hands were released from their bonds,
Rose sprang to her feet and grabbed her father’s hand. Henley was asleep
slumped against his saddle that had been thrown to the ground. They had gone
just a few steps when Rose doubled over in acute pain clutching her stomach.
The sudden movement, tragically, caused Rafael to concernedly blurt out,
"Rose, honey! Are you okay?"
In the next instant, a sudden blast of
gunfire rang out…and Rafael slowly fell to his knees and then into the
deepening snow. A scream lodged in her throat, Rose swung around in grim
hysteria, terrorized emerald eyes interlocked with satanic onyx orbs as the
acrid gun smoke burned her nostrils.
"Going somewhere, my pet?" Cal
evilly taunted and raised the gun a second time before firing into the
motionless body of Rafael Bouvier…again and then again.