The Scent of Jasmine Read online

  Cay didn’t want to hear more praise of her artist skills; they seemed superfluous when someone’s life was in danger. “If no one is there to meet him, what will this man do?”

  “Get caught, returned to jail, and hanged tomorrow morning,” T.C. said.

  Cay looked at Hope for confirmation, but she refused to make a comment. “So you want me to take a horse to him?”

  “Yes!” T.C. said before Hope could speak. “That’s all. Pay the men who are to break him out of jail, give the horse to Alex, then leave.”

  “And where will he go if I do this?”

  “To Mr. Grady. I’ve drawn a map of where Alex is to meet the expedition.” He gave Cay a look of speculation. “I guess that now Mr. Grady will have to get someone else to do the recording as I can’t go. Too bad . . .”

  Cay smiled, knowing what he meant. “Even if I were male, that’s not something I’d like to do. I’m quite happy living near my family in Virginia, and I want to stay there. I leave the adventuring to my brothers.”

  “As is right and proper,” Hope said. “Women aren’t supposed to run all over the country doing what men do. And they are most certainly not supposed to straddle a horse and ride out to meet a murderer.”

  T.C. was looking at Cay with serious eyes. “I’ve known you all your life and you know I’d never ask you to do anything dangerous. You can cover your dress with Hope’s big hooded cloak, and I know you can ride. I’ve seen you jump fences that scare most men.”

  “If I didn’t, my brothers would laugh at me,” Cay said. “They’d . . .” As she thought of them, she asked herself what they would do if faced with this situation. Tally would already be saddled, Nate would ask a hundred questions before he left, Ethan would be packing because he’d take T.C.’s place on the expedition, and Adam would . . .

  “They would what?” T.C. asked.

  “They’d help any friend of our father’s,” Cay said as she stood up.

  “You cannot do this.” Hope was looking at Cay from across the bed.

  “Didn’t I hear you say that you would go if you could?” Cay asked.

  “Yes,” Hope said, “but that’s different. You’re so young and . . . and . . .”

  “Childish? Spoiled? Rich?” Cay asked, her eyes narrowing with every word she spoke. Ever since she’d met Hope she’d felt as though Hope dismissed Cay as too young, too frivolous, too pampered, to ever be able to actually accomplish anything. While it was true that Cay hadn’t had the misfortunes that Hope had had in her life, of an accident that had left her with a limp, the death of her mother, and a lifetime of caring for a ceaselessly complaining old father, Cay’d had some setbacks in her life. In her opinion, being the only girl with four older brothers was enough to qualify her for battle pay.

  “I’ll do it,” Cay said as she gave Hope the look she used to stop Tally from putting a second frog down her collar.

  “Thank you,” T.C. said, and there were tears in his eyes. He grabbed her small hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you, thank you. And you’ll be fine. Alex is a very pleasant young man and—”

  “I doubt if his wife’s family would agree with that,” Hope said.

  When T.C. gave her a look, she sat down on her chair. She knew when she’d been defeated.

  “Perhaps I should change,” Cay said.

  “No, no, I want you like that. Go from the meeting place directly to the ball.”

  “That will give you an alibi,” Hope said, some of the anger in her voice gone.

  “Yes, it will. Not that you’ll be asked where you were, but . . .” T.C. trailed off.

  Hope let out a sigh of defeat. “And keep your face covered. Don’t let anyone see you. Not even that man.”

  “Will people be chasing him?” Cay asked as she began to understand what she was volunteering to do.

  “I’ve been planning this for the many weeks he’s been in jail,” T.C. said, “and I think I have every possibility covered. There will be three sets of men escaping, and only you will know where to meet the correct one.”

  “This must have cost you a lot,” Hope said.

  T.C. waved his hand in dismissal. This rescue had cost him everything he owned, but he wasn’t going to tell them that.

  “When should I leave?” Cay asked, swallowing as she thought of the coming night.

  “About twenty minutes ago.”

  “He doesn’t want to give you time to think about this,” Hope said.

  “My maid—”

  “I’ll keep her busy,” Hope said. “She’ll not even notice that you’ve escaped her.”

  “I . . . I, uh . . .” Cay stuttered.

  “Go!” T.C. said. “Don’t think any more, just go! Keep covered, let no one see your face, not even Alex, then ride to the ball. Leave your horse at the back of the ballroom, so there’ll be no talk about how you arrived. Hope will take care of that.”

  Cay looked at Hope, who gave her a curt nod. “All right, then, I guess I’ll leave. I don’t know how I’m going to ride in this dress, but—”

  “The cloak will cover every inch of you,” T.C. said, his eyes pleading with her to take no more time in discussion. “Tomorrow we’ll have chocolate for breakfast and laugh about all this.”

  “Promise?” Cay said, smiling.

  “I swear it.”

  After hesitating long enough to give him another smile, she grabbed her skirt and ran down the stairs. Her heart was racing, but she knew this was something that needed to be done. Tonight she was going to save a man’s life. That he may or may not be a murderer was not something she wanted to worry about. No, it was better to just do the job, and think about what she’d done later.

  Two

  Cay sat on her horse in the dark and wished she were in Virginia with her family. It was autumn, so it would be cooler there. Would they have a fire blazing in the parlor? Would her brothers be home or would they be out doing . . . whatever it was that boys did all the time? Ethan had been seeing one of the Woodlock girls, but Cay didn’t think much would come of it. The girl wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough for Ethan.

  When her mare began to prance about, Cay shifted in her saddle and calmed it down. Hidden in the trees behind her was the heavily laden horse that Alexander McDowell was to take with him when he finally arrived with the men who’d broken him out of jail.

  She looked around but could see little in the night sky. It had been difficult finding the place where her uncle told her she was to meet Mac’s son, which was the only way Cay could think of him. He was the son of the man who’d helped her father, and that was her reason for being there. If she didn’t concentrate on that, she knew she’d start looking about the dark countryside and thinking about how she was to meet a man who had probably committed murder.

  Hope had gone downstairs with Cay, helped her cover her gown with the big wool cloak, and given her the map T.C. had drawn that showed where Cay was to go.

  “It’s not too late to say no,” Hope said as she fastened the hood around Cay’s head.

  Cay put on the bravest face she could manage. “I’m sure I’ll be all right. Besides, I doubt if this man is actually a murderer.”

  Hope lowered her voice. “You didn’t read the newspaper accounts. The doctor and the judge found her locked inside the room with him, and he was sound asleep. He had no conscience about what he’d done. He is pure evil.”

  Cay swallowed. “What did he have to say about it all?”

  “That he’d had a glass of wine then fallen asleep.”

  “Maybe he was telling the truth.”

  “You are so very young,” Hope said in a patronizing way. “No man falls asleep on his wedding night.”

  “But maybe—” Cay tried to say, but Hope interrupted her.

  “The sooner you go, the quicker you can get back. I’ll be waiting for you at the ball. I won’t be dressed as richly as you are, but I’ll have on my rose-colored silk, so look for me at the back.” Hope put her hands on Cay’s shoulde
rs and looked at her for a moment. “May God go with you,” she said, and quickly she kissed Cay’s cheek. In the next minute the two of them were running for the stables where the horses awaited them. Hope helped Cay adjust the voluminous cloak over her dress and the lower part of her legs, which were exposed in their silk stockings. The ball gown was narrow, and when she was on the horse, it rode up on her legs.

  “No matter what our godfather says, please be very cautious with this man,” Hope said when Cay was at last in the saddle and covered.

  Trying to lighten the serious mood of the moment, Cay said, “Can I bring you back anything?”

  “Your safety will be enough,” Hope said without a smile, but when she saw Cay’s disappointed look, she said, “A husband. Not too tall, not too short, not rich, not poor. I just want a man who can stand up to my father.” She gave a little smile. “And I want a man who won’t fall asleep on our wedding night.”

  “Which father?” Cay quipped and instantly realized she was more nervous than she’d thought. She started to apologize, but Hope laughed.

  “The complaining one, of course. The other one, I have no trouble with—except that he won’t obey me. Now go!”

  Cay kicked the horse forward and rode west toward the place where she was to meet the murderer.

  Now, she sat on the horse and waited. They should have been there by now, but she heard or saw nothing. Had something gone wrong? Had the escape attempt failed? She was aware that she knew remarkably little about what Uncle T.C. had done to make this plan and she should have asked more questions. She should have been more like her brother Nate, who loved to solve puzzles. He liked to figure out who did what and why. In the dark silence, she thought about the first time Nate had solved a dilemma that had put her entire family and all the people who worked for them in a tizzy. The flour in the kitchen was disappearing at an alarming rate, but no one would admit to taking it.

  Smiling, Cay’s mind began to wander back to that time, but a sound to her right made her pull back on the reins to her mare. She’d securely tied the other horse to a tree about fifty yards away, and when she glanced that way, she could see nothing.

  But her senses told her that something was different. “Who’s there?” she called out.

  Out of the darkness slipped a tall, bearded, older-looking man, who stood so close to her that she jerked the reins and started to flee, but he caught her by the calf—and when he did, her silk-clad leg and a bit of her gown were revealed. The crystal beads sparkled even in the blackness of the night.

  “Bludy heel,” the man said as he looked up at her. “Th’ glaikit cheil sent a vemen childe tae dae a mon’s job. A wee, dreich hen ay nae use ’at Ah main troost wi’ mah life. Ah main an aw shet myself noo.” He paused, then said in American English, “Are you on your way to a party, Miss?”

  Cay kicked his hand away from her leg and looked down at him with all the contempt she could express. “As suin as Ah gie rid ay ye, Ah am. Kin ye keep up wi’ me?” She’d spent several summers in Scotland with her cousins and she understood the insult he’d given her, and all she could think was that he was an ungrateful lout.

  She didn’t bother pointing out where the other horse was. If he was so sure that a “vemen childe”—a woman child—was so useless that he “might as well shoot himself now” then he could “bludy” well find the horse by himself.

  He was just standing there, staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment, and she thought he was probably shocked that she understood his thick brogue. He said something under his breath that sounded like “You’re a McTern,” but she wasn’t sure what he’d said.

  When a shot rang out, she wasn’t surprised. Obviously, T.C.’s plan had gone awry. The men she was to pay hadn’t shown up, and the foul mouthed Scotsman had come alone. He was certainly on his own now, she thought as she kicked her mare to run faster.

  As she rode, she could feel her dress riding up higher on her hips. At this rate, she’d look awful when she arrived at the ball. The hood of the cloak had blown off her head and she could feel her carefully dressed hair coming out of its pins. She was glad she’d thought to pin the diamond stars inside her bodice. Her father had given her those for her eighteenth birthday and she’d hate to lose them, especially in so unworthy a cause.

  Behind her, she could hear another horse coming up fast. Turning, she saw that it was the Scotsman. Even though he had a lot of hair on his head and face, she could still see that his eyes were blazing with anger.

  “Cover yerself, you daft girl,” he shouted at her.

  “Now’s not the time for modesty.” She stood up in the saddle and the horse took on more speed. She’d always loved riding and she’d spent a lot of her life on horseback. Racing with her brothers—and beating them—was one of her favorite pastimes.

  “So they won’t see you’re a lass,” he yelled as he tried to keep up with her. But his horse was so laden with what he was to take on the expedition it couldn’t. Still, the man kept urging it forward until Cay felt sorry for the animal.

  “We must part,” she said as she quickly reined her horse to the left. She didn’t know her way around the outside of Charleston very well, but she had a good sense of direction, and besides, she could see lights in the distance. She was going to go to T.C.’s house where she planned to pack her clothes and go home in the morning. She’d had all the excitement she could stand for one visit.

  When the man turned with her and nearly made her run off the road, it took all her years of experience in riding to keep the horse on track.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted at him.

  “Saving your wee life,” he yelled back. “If you go back into the city they’ll arrest you.”

  “No one knows I’ve ever even met you.” She glanced over her shoulder. She’d heard a shot, but she’d seen no one.

  “They saw you.”

  “They did not!” she shouted at him.

  To her astonishment, he grabbed the bridle of her horse and pulled so hard she almost fell off. If she’d had a whip in her hands, she would have used it on him.

  “You must come with me.”

  “I will not! You’re a criminal!”

  “So are you now. Either you follow me or I’ll pull you off that horse and put you across my saddle.”

  She was tempted to test him to do that. She could see that he was thin under his raggedy clothes, and she was much younger than he was, but he still might be strong enough to pull her. “All right,” she said at last, and in the next second he took off, seeming to expect her to follow wherever he led. She wanted to turn and ride away, but she heard another shot in the distance, so she went after him. Maybe he knew of a safe place to hide. Didn’t all people who were put into jail know such things?

  She rode behind him for what must have been a mile, then he seemed to disappear in the darkness. As she pulled her horse to a halt, she looked around her, but she didn’t see him. She heard a bird whistle, but there were few other sounds. In the next moment, she heard a horse’s hooves pounding on the road, and when the man appeared, even with all the hair on his face, she could see that he was angry.

  Marveling at his ingratitude, she moved her horse into the bushes at the side of the road, and dismounted.

  “Ah thooght ’at coz ye coods kin me, ye micht hae a wee bit ay sense tae ye, but nae, yoo’re as dumb as a bairn.”

  “I can understand every word you say,” she said, “and I don’t like any of it. When I get back—”

  “Quiet, girl,” he growled as he pushed her to the ground, his arm across her back.

  Cay was about to protest when she heard the horses approaching. As she lowered her head, she felt the man’s arm slide up over her. He smelled vile, and she wondered if he had lice and other vermin on him. If he did, she’d never get them out of her hair.

  Four horses and riders stopped not far from them, and she held her breath as she waited for them to go on.

  “I tell you, it was
that red-haired girl staying with T.C. Connor. I saw her face when she looked back,” one of the men said loudly, and Cay gasped.

  The Scotsman put his hand over her mouth. He was very close to her, his long body pressed against hers, one of his shoulders over hers, holding her to the ground.

  She moved her head to get his hand off her mouth. He removed it, but he gave her a warning look to be quiet.

  “A girl?” one of the men said. “Why would a girl help a murderer escape?”

  “She’s probably the reason he killed his wife, and now they’re runnin’ off together. Everyone knows he married Miss Grey for her money.”

  “What a fool to have killed a beauty like her.”

  “You two sound like old hens discussin’ the gossip. I think we should go back to Connor’s and see if the girl is there. If she ain’t, then I say we should ask him some questions.”

  With that, they turned their horses and left.

  Instantly, Cay moved toward her horse, but the man grabbed the bottom of her cloak and pulled her back down.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to my godfather’s house to warn him.”

  “And that means T.C.’s house?”

  “Of course.”

  “You do that and they’ll catch you and put you in jail for helping a murderer escape.”

  She glared at him as he got up. “I guess that means you’re not planning to give yourself up to protect your benefactor?”

  After giving a snort, as though to say she was the dumbest person alive, he got up and went to his horse. “Connor can take care of himself. From what I’ve heard of the man, he’s outrun Indians, bears, and a shipload of pirates. I think he can handle a few locals looking for a pretty girl to terrorize.”

  “Yes, but . . .” Cay didn’t want to take the time to argue with him. “All right, then I’ll go home.”