Rather than intentionally shock the staff of the Owl's Eye, Hunter made his entrances and exits to the inn with such complete discretion, no one ever caught a glimpse of him. When Alanna returned their room key to the desk, the clerk was so curious about the pretty young woman and her mysterious mate, that he encouraged her to stop there again on their next visit to the city.
"Thank you, we certainly will." Alanna started to move away and then turned back. "I hope none of your other guests complained about sharing the inn with an Indian."
Confused by her comment, the clerk shrugged. "We have no Indians staying here."
"Other than my husband, you mean?" Alanna watched the clerk's complexion fade to a stark white several shades lighter than his heavily powdered wig. "Oh, dear, didn't I mention that my husband is a Seneca brave? I'll be sure to have him introduce himself, if we stay here again." She waved and left before the clerk recovered enough of his composure to respond, but she hoped he would be on duty the next time she came to rent a room, so she could remind him that no one's sleep had been disturbed by war whoops on their last visit.
* * *
The Sarah Rene was a brig engaged in the merchant trade between the colonies, the West Indies, and London. While Captain Michaels eschewed the lucrative slave trade, he was not above increasing his profits by ferrying as many passengers as his ship could comfortably carry. Just as Alanna had predicted, when Hunter boarded the ship first, and she arrived as the last of the visitors were going ashore, no one noticed they were together. It wasn't until they joined the other passengers for the noon meal that the captain realized the fetching blonde he had glimpsed only briefly, was Hunter's wife.
Understandably shocked, in the interest of maintaining harmony on a voyage he expected to complete in a few days, he treated the couple with good, if somewhat stilted, manners. Following his example, the other passengers kept whatever they thought about the striking pair to themselves. It was plain none had ever spoken with an Indian brave, and Hunter went out of his way to charm them, while Alanna smiled contentedly at his side. By the time they docked in Newport News, the travelers had become friendly, but now that a meeting with her aunt and uncle was only a few hours away, Alanna was so worried, she barely heard their fond farewells.
The other passengers had had only their hand luggage, but Alanna and Hunter had to wait for Elliott's coffin, and remained on deck after the others had all departed. Fidgeting nervously, Alanna tried to recall the explanation they had rehearsed so diligently. The news would be devastating, no matter how sympathetically it was delivered, but Alanna knew the announcement of her marriage would also be greeted as tragic, and she didn't think she could bear that.
"This is going to be so awful," she predicted darkly.
Hunter opened his mouth to argue, but then, fearing she was right, he remained silent. Distracted by a well-dressed gentleman waving from the dock, he touched Alanna's arm. "Do you know that man? He appears to be waving to us."
Alanna turned to find Randolph O'Neil striding up the gangplank. "Oh, no," she sighed.
"He's not a friend?"
"No, he is, and a good one." Alanna did her best to smile as Randolph reached them, but her lips still trembled slightly. "Hello, I didn't ex
pect to see you here today."
"I came to pick up a shipment," Randolph replied. "The Sarah Rene routinely carries merchandise for me, but if only you had let me know you'd be on board, I would have come to meet you." He then cast an inquiring glance toward Hunter.
"You're very kind," Alanna said. "Mr. O'Neil, this is Hunter, my husband." She knew Randolph to be a gentleman and, despite what had to be a deeply disturbing announcement, he did not disappoint her now. There was only a very slight widening of his eyes that no one else would have noticed, before he broke into a friendly grin and extended his hand.
"Please call me Randolph. Didn't I see you in Williamsburg last spring with the Barclays?"
Few white men had ever offered their hands to him, and appreciating the gesture of friendship, Hunter shook Randolph's before replying. "Yes, I visited them before serving as a scout with the militia."
"May I offer my congratulations? I envy you having such a lovely bride." Unwilling to reveal that he had had serious intentions where Alanna was concerned, he abruptly changed the subject. "Where's Elliott? Didn't he come home with you?"
Knowing how reluctant Alanna was to supply the answer, Hunter replied. "Elliott was slain by an Abenaki brave we'd fought last summer in the Ohio Valley. He shot Elliott in cold blood, but I'm proud to say he didn't live to brag about it."
Aghast at that news, Randolph moved to Alanna's side and reached out for the rail to steady himself. "I'm so sorry. What a terrible tragedy. Do John and Rachel know? Are they coming to meet you?"
Alanna shook her head. "We thought we would be here before a letter could arrive, but I didn't want to describe Elliott's death in a letter anyway."
"Well no, of course not. In addition to a wagon to transport my goods, I also have my carriage. Won't you allow me to take you home? We can be there by nightfall."
"That's very kind of you," Alanna said, "but we've brought Elliott's coffin home with us."
"That will be no problem," Randolph assured her. "I'll have it loaded in my wagon. Where do you wish to have it delivered, to your home or to the church?"
Alanna turned to Hunter. "Where do you think? I really don't know which to choose."
"Home then," Hunter suggested. "The coffin can be taken to the church for the funeral."
Alanna looked confused for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, that's a good plan. Let's do that."
In New York, Alanna had appeared confident, but once on board the Sarah Rene, Hunter had watched her anxiety gradually mount to the point that she now seemed no more able to cope than the day he had first met her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and hugged her tightly. "No one is going to blame you for Elliott's death. You needn't be so frightened."
While Alanna appreciated Hunter's efforts to raise her spirits, she knew they would both be blamed for her cousin's murder, and she could not help but feel that whatever accusations grew out of her aunt and uncle's pain, would be justified. Elliott's death was only one of her family's tragedies though, there was also Melissa's, to say nothing of the uncertain future of the dear baby she had left behind. Feeling faint, Alanna swayed slightly, and Hunter scooped her up into his arms.