I pushed to my feet, swaying through a bout of wooziness, but I didn’t follow her. I could see the body well enough from here.
With the dagger protruding from the torso and the breeches unbuttoned at the waist, no words were needed. Comprehension glowed in her clever eyes.
But understanding didn’t beget compassion. I’d ruined her chance at returning to English society and stood before her as a murderer, covered in the blood of my crime.
Locking my knees, I braced for her condemnation.
“I would’ve done the same.” She lifted her chin and turned away from the body.
“Truly?” Shock stuttered my breath.
“Any man who meets with a prudent woman and offers to meddle with her, without her consent, shall suffer present death.”
“Even at her own hand?” My pulse raced.
“Even so. No matter the laws of man.” Her expression turned to stone. “Tis our law. Yours and mine.”
I stared at her, thunderstruck. Never had I felt a connection to another woman as I did to my mother in that moment. She met my eyes with more confidence and conviction than any titled lord. Her stubbornness was the bane of my existence, but I realized now that same ferocity would be used to protect me.
For the first time in my life, I saw what my father saw. A woman who was brave enough to cross the Great Western Ocean alone and pregnant. She was beauty and strength in her own right, a force to reckon with. If anyone could help me rescue him, she could.
I tamped down my rioting nerves and treaded carefully. “Has there been word of an arrest?”
“No one has discovered the body.” Returning to my side, she gripped my arm and guided me toward the horse. “I’ll send someone I trust to collect the remains. This will be our secret. One we’ll take to our graves.”
“No, I mean…” I stepped back from her grip, stumbling on shaky legs. “Someone else was arrested.”
“I’ve been searching for you all night. I haven’t been home to hear of any…” The blood drained from her face. “Who was arrested, Benedicta?”
“A seafarer.” I swallowed, and my eyes burned with tears. “A buccaneer.”
She went still, and her voice trembled to a whisper. “What have you done?”
“He’s…” I shook my head, faltering over the confession. “My father…”
“No.” She staggered backward and tripped on a branch. “No, no, no. He promised me.” With an ungraceful spin, she flung herself toward the horse. “He promised he would never get caught when he visited you.”
“What?” A fist clamped around my heart. “You knew?”
“Of course, I knew.” She fumbled in her urgency to mount the horse, her skirts tangling around her legs. “He always sent two hounds. When one passed, the other showed the replacement how to find us. They were his couriers.”
“That’s how he sent you his letters?” My eyes bulged. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I needed you to fiercely guard that secret. As long as you hid it from me, I trusted you could hide it from those who would harm him.” Her slipper caught in the stirrup, and she swung up onto the saddle, her features distorted with an emotion I’d never seen there before.
Fear.
“When was he arrested?” She turned the horse about, facing the opposite direction.
“Before dusk.” I floundered after her, my pulse tripping in my veins. “There will be a trial.”
“Not for a pirate, you foolish girl. And certainly not for Edric Sharp. Don’t you get it, Benedicta? We made him weak.”
“No, he loves us!”
“And I gave him up because I… I couldn’t be the reason for his demise.” She turned away and signaled the horse to move. “Go home and burn that gown.”
“Mother, wait!” I grabbed the bridle, halting her. “If there’s any love for him left inside you, you will save him!”
She bent down and slapped my hand away, her lips pulling back in a sneer. “I love him so viciously I would die for him.”
Her declaration slammed into me, knocking the wind from my lungs. She lunged the horse forward and dashed into the gloom of shadows.
I staggered after her, but she was already gone.
My father would be in the town gaol, so that was where I needed to go. But not drenched in blood. And not without a horse.
Stripping out of the gown, I found only a few stains on the petticoat and bodice of my stays.
I stuffed the dress inside the hollow of a dead tree, retied my father’s compass to my waist, and turned in the direction where the sky was the lightest. East. The beach. Once I reached the sea, I could follow it south to the port of Charleston.
As I walked, I pushed through the pangs in my body and listened for the neigh of a horse.
Thirst was the most gnawing ache. And hunger. The throbbing in my face, backside, and feet dulled in comparison. But when I spotted a horse through the trees, all physical pain gave way to exhilaration.
It took me several minutes to mount Grisdale’s horse, and several more to race to the beach. When I emerged from the woods, the sun was already cresting the horizon.
My father’s boots and cutlass still lay in the sand, but I didn’t stop to collect them. I galloped south, eyes on the water, searching for his ship as I followed the shore to town.
If I had a spyglass and climbed one of the tallest trees, perhaps I would spot Jade.
I sped onward, spurred by images of a noose around his neck. Would they hang him at dawn? Or force him to attend Sunday service, preach to him about his sins, and hang him after?
Tears stung my eyes, and my entire body shook in the saddle.
My mother would stop them. She loved my father. How had I ever thought she didn’t? She would save him, and we would sail away.
We would be a family.
The thought was so comforting I let it play out in my head—my father standing at the bow of his ship with his hands on the railing and the wind in his hair, the countess and me flanking his sides and sharing joyous smiles. He would sing off-tune, and we would laugh and join in. The destination wouldn’t matter because we would already be home, together at sea, as we were meant to be.
I choked on tearful laughter and propelled the horse faster. Chest tight and fingers clinched around the reins, I abandoned the fringe of forest on my right and approached the edge of town.
Piers stretched like fingers out to sea, and buildings scattered along the walkways that lined the beach. The sun sat just above the water, and a few townsfolk meandered from one place to the next.
The gaol wasn’t visible from the beach, and I questioned the wisdom in entering the town half-dressed and guilty of murder.
In the distance, a bell tolled, signaling the start of Sunday service. Most of the residents would be gathering there.
With a shaky breath, I searched the buildings for a sign of the countess or her horse. My gaze darted over pathways, faces, shadowed alcoves, and… An ominous structure. One that didn’t belong on the beach.
I urged the horse closer, squinting at the wooden platform that appeared to have been moved from the center of town.
Two uprights towered over it, and something hung from the crosspiece.
Not something.
Someone.
A cold sweat swept over me, and sickening dread muted everything around me.