Book Three
Chapter Eighteen
"Alexander ... Alexander," a young female voice called from outside the blacksmith shop. Suddenly the head of a ten-year-old girl peaked around the corner. "Alexander, come see what I have."
"I'm working right now, Lizzie," Alex looked over at her as he plunged the red-hot piece of iron into the cold water.
"It's alright son," an older man put his hand on the tongs Alex held, "take some time for lunch and see what Lizzie wants. Things are hard for her since her mom died, and she needs a friend."
Alex tried to look like it was a chore to spend time with the girl, but actually they had become very close friends and he enjoyed their times together. Elizabeth's father, Mr. Quinn, was a man of some wealth and employed Mr. Lockwood and his son to tend the horses and serve as blacksmith for the area. Mr. Quinn had been good to them, but was very stern and hard on his only child. Since her mother died of the fever several months before, Elizabeth had little time to herself as her father forced her to work along with the help. Mr. Quinn had left that morning on business. Alexander had harnessed the best black team so he knew her father would be away at least one night if not two. When packing his own lunch Alex packed a little extra hoping that with her father away Elizabeth may be stopping by.
"We'll be down by the creek father," Alex said as he grabbed the sack lunch off of the shelf and went out the doors.
Around the corner stood Elizabeth holding a new little lamb, "Look what Henry gave me. One of the ewes had three babies so he gave me this one to take care of."
He touched her nose leaving a small streak of soot, then rubbed the little lamb's head, getting soot on it too. "You're so dirty, Alexander," she complained.
"I'll wash down at the creek," he said, walking down the path, "you like to share my lunch?"
Without saying anything she followed, this was getting to be almost a routine when her father was away.
The next scene showed Alexander washing in the creek, and as he turned around he looked to be about five years older. Elizabeth was sitting near the water, on an old quilt, on which the sack lunch had been emptied. Another lamb grazed peacefully behind her. Alex removed his shirt and dried his face and hands on the inside of it leaving more soot marks, then rinsed it in the creek and left it hanging on a bush to dry. He walked over to Lizzie and lay down on the blanket placing his head on her lap. She brushed the hair out of his eyes as he slowly chewed on a piece of cheese. "This winter you will be sixteen. We'll get married and go to the colonies, and there I'll become a famous silver-smith and we'll have lots of babies together."
"Alexander, you dream too much," she kissed his forehead, "Father will never let me leave, or marry you. Everything is about money and power to him."
"We'll run away then," he ran his finger over her nose following the soot mark he had left earlier. "Everything will work if we can be together, right lamb?"
"You're teasing me, again."
"No, you love your lambs, and I love you. You are my lamb."
"I love you, too," she said running her hand over his firm, muscular chest. Being a blacksmith was hard work and Alex obviously had built himself to fit the job.
He sat up, "We better eat this lunch so I can get back to work. Your father could be back soon, and he wants that new mare ready for the feast."
"You're right, I better get back home, the wash should be dry and I have to start supper."
"Does he still hit you, Lizzie?"
"Only when I deserve it."
"You don't deserve that. I'm going to take you away from here, so far away he won't be able to find us," he lay down on the blanket and pulled his love on top of himself. "I'll never hit you lamb, I'll make love to you." He rolled her over on to her back and kissed her the way that made her heart melt.
The feast was an annual event that took place in the autumn after harvest was done. Mr. Quinn owned a large amount of land and the first day of the feast brought the many tenants in to pay their rent, which usually was paid in livestock, grain or wool. Elizabeth had to help in the kitchen preparing food for the tenants. They all thought that their landlord was a fair, honest, good man - only those closest to him knew the truth. She hurried with her work, as she knew Alexander would be there with his father to pay the rent on the blacksmith shop. In her haste she dropped and broke a large bowl of potatoes, which could not be salvaged because of the broken pottery. As she was bent over cleaning up the mess a cane came down hard across her back and sent her sprawling on the floor. "How the hell do you think we can feed our tenants if you are so clumsy? Get out of here!"
Elizabeth made her way out of the back door, but was unable to go much further. Alex had seen her come out and was heading her way when Mr. Quinn stopped him, "Alexander, do you have the mare ready for tomorrow? She is to be a gift to a very important guest."
"Yes sir, she's in top form."
"Good, good. I'll send for you to ride her up to the house tomorrow when he arrives."
After Mr. Quinn walked away Alex started to walk to the back door again, but Lizzie was nowhere to be found. He couldn't ask after her, their relationship had to be kept secret, but he knew something was very wrong. The last time they had spoken was a week before and she had been excited about seeing him at her home on the first day of the feast. She knew she would have to work hard in preparation and seeing Alexander would be her reward.
He went into the kitchen offering help carrying out the prepared food. He knew his offer would be declined but if Lizzie were not there he would have to find her. He quickly walked down to the stables and after silently searching he discovered her out the back door standing at the fence with her chin resting on the top pole railing. She appeared to be watching the beautiful white mare Alexander had broke for her father, but as he stood beside her and put his arm around her she pulled away and he saw her cheeks were wet with tears.
"What's wrong?" he asked, but the only answer she gave was her tear filled eyes, which continued to overflow. Lizzie had learned at a very young age to cry in silence so as not to anger her father. Alexander pulled her to himself but as his hand went down her back she gave a moan of pain and the tears fell faster.
"What has he done to you?" he demanded as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt and uncovered the welt that was at least ten inches long and four inches wide. Where the cane had met her back, it had turned black and the surrounding area, a dark blue and very swollen.
"I'm going to kill him." The only time Lizzie saw Alexander angry was when he found the marks left after her father had beaten her.
"No, you can't do that!" she said weakly.
"Well, I am taking you away from here, next week. We'll go to London. He'll never find us there and when we can we will go to the new land and live in the colonies."
For the first time Elizabeth didn't refuse to leave. She knew that the time had come because if Alexander didn't kill her father, her father possibly could kill her. To leave was the only way to avoid either one.
Alexander removed his shirt and rinsed it in the cold water from the trough. He rolled it into a ball and held it over the wound. She shuttered at first, but welcomed the coolness of the wet shirt against the burning of the bruise. She leaned into him and they stood that way until the stars looked down upon them.
"You've always been there for me, Alexander, as long as I can remember. You must be my guardian angel. Mom said that everyone has an angel who watches over him or her. You must be my angel."
"And you're my little lamb."
It was late when he walked her most of the way back to the house. He waited in the shadows until he saw the signal of a lantern in the window. Every night she set it there to tell him she was there and safe. At least he hoped she was safe. Soon he would be able to keep her away from harm.
Jennifer, Mr. Quinn's personal maid walked into Elizabeth's room early the next morning, throwing open the drapes to let in the morning light.
"What's happening?" Elizabeth asked, trying to sit up, but the pain that went through her back was excruciating. She had to roll out of bed in order to get to a standing position.
"Your father wants you ready to greet Mr. Hamilton when he arrives this afternoon."
"Who's Mr. Hamilton?"
"He's the guest of honour at the feast tonight. Your father visits him often when he's away." Jennifer opened the closet door and Elizabeth was amazed at the gowns that were inside. Never before had she been allowed to wear such a dress. "Your bath water is ready in the kitchen, and I am to help you ready for his arrival."
Elizabeth was ready and standing by her father waiting for Mr. Hamilton. Jennifer had done an excellent job of preparing her and was complimented by Mr. Quinn, although Lizzie was not. The corset Jennifer had tightly tied around her waist caused great pain over the bruise and the stays made of bone seemed to dig into her skin. The corset held her breasts high and the dress was designed to show as much as decently possible. She was beginning to feel like she was on display and if it had not been for Alexander's promise to take her away she would have been worried.
Mr. Hamilton arrived exactly on schedule. He was a small heavyset man with a look that frightened her. His complexion was very red and his eyebrows were bushy and curled up into little horns. Elizabeth wondered if maybe he was the devil himself.
"Welcome to our home, Charles." Mr. Quinn grinned shaking his hand, "This is my daughter, Elizabeth."
Mr. Hamilton took her hand in his and gently kissed it. "You are very beautiful, my dear. I have heard so many wonderful things about you." Lizzie was shocked; her father said good things about her? It sounded impossible.
Alexander rode in on the beautiful white mare as he had been instructed to do. She was very high spirited and had to be kept under control at all times which he did expertly. He rode the mare up to the steps of the house and his father followed with Mr. Quinn's black gelding. The two dismounted and held the horses' heads.
Mr. Hamilton was obviously very thrilled with the gift and eagerly mounted the horse and kept it under control with little effort. Mr. Quinn mounted his horse and turned back to Elizabeth, "You're eating in the banquet room tonight."
Jennifer came over to her and demanded, "Be back in your room by midafternoon so you can change into your dinner gown. You best rest, it will be a late night."
Elizabeth felt wonderful to be able to wear the elegant clothes, but she was also scared of this new experience. She caught Alexander's eye before he went back to the stable to take the team to be rubbed down. His mouth dropped open - he had not even recognized his love. Her long blonde hair had been pulled back and tied tightly at the back of her head. She looked at him and motioned toward the creek then slowly walked through the flower garden she had worked so hard on that summer.
Her back was still very sore as she walked down the path to the creek. There waiting for her as she hoped was her angel. He too, had been dressed in his finest white shirt and black pants, and his long dark hair was neatly tied back with a ribbon. Mr. Quinn had made sure everyone and everything was perfect for Mr. Hamilton's arrival, which made her think that this guest must be a very powerful man.
She ran her hands over his strong back. "You are very handsome in your Sunday best, and your hair glistening in the sun."
He turned and pulled her to himself being careful to avoid her injury. "And you're very beautiful dressed in money's finest, maybe you won't want a poor blacksmith any more?"
"All I want is you," she pulled his head down to her and kissed him, "we'll leave this week?"
"Your father is going away Wednesday, we'll leave after he does. Father will go back to his family in the east. It won't take long for Mr. Quinn to realize that you and I are missing at the same times and he may take his anger out on my father." He looked down at her breasts, which seemed to be pushed into place to suit the observer and not the owner. He leaned down and kissed each, then said, "When we are married, no more dresses like this one. I won't share you with anyone else's lustful eyes."
"When we are married Alexander, then I will share all of me with you, and only you." They parted with a kiss, both eager for Wednesday to come.