Gregory, Lisa (19 page)

"Damn
you, I ought to break your neck," he whispered into her ear.
"Fortunately, they did not heed you. But, believe me, I'll take care of
you later."

She
gave up her struggles as futile. How did he always manage to get the best of
her?

"Good
girl," he said, but he didn't relax his hold.

Although
she could not see, she could hear the steady slap of the oars, then a man
calling, "Ahoy there! Identify yourself!"

"We
have no name yet," Hampton called, giving a fair imitation of a nasal New
Englander's twang. "We were taking her out for a trial run."

Now
she could hear them climbing up the rope ladder over the side of the ship.
Those fools!

"Captain
Sloane, the
Susan Harper
," a man said, coming toward them across the
wooden deck. There was the sound of more men coming over the side.

"Captain
Hampton," she heard him say above her head, his voice reverting to his
Southern drawl. "C.S.N."

There
was a shocked silence and Hampton released her. She staggered back from him,
red with anger, and whirled on the luckless clipper captain.

"You
idiot!" she said furiously. "Why did you think I screamed? Just for
the fun of it?"

The
men from the clipper blinked at her, still stunned. Hampton chuckled.
"Please, dearest, they are not used to your way of expressing yourself, as
I am," he said, amused.

"Oh,
shut up."

"What—what
is going on here?" Sloane managed to ask.

"Oh,
nothing," Katherine said bitingly. "You have just been captured by a
Rebel pirate, that's all. A Rebel pirate who, by the way, happens to be sailing
a fisherman that you could sail circles around, and who has no cannon, only a
few handguns, and who—"

"Katherine,
for heaven's sake, calm down. Don't berate the man so. After all," he
winked meaningfully, "he is not the only person I've tricked into coming
aboard."

"Oh,
you—" she fumed helplessly.

"Now,
Captain Sloane, I'm afraid you and these men are my prisoners. Moreover, we are
about to get back in your boat and return to your ship, which your men will
turn over to me."

"Don't
count on it," Sloane said stoutly.

"Well,
for your sake, I hope they do." He turned to the civilian. "And who,
sir, are you?"

"Dr.
Edward Rackingham. We thought perhaps your crew was ill."

"Well,
I am happy to have a doctor aboard. I certainly hope I don't have to shoot you.
Now, gentlemen, if we may proceed to your ship?"

Hampton
climbed over the side and down to the longboat and held a pistol on the clipper
crew as they got in. Then Peljo and two other men with guns and manacles
climbed in also. Katherine watched them row across to the other ship. She had
no doubt that he would succeed. Her only hope now was that the delay would be
costly. She watched Hampton standing in the boat, his pistol at Sloane's head,
calling up his demand to the first mate. Apparently he won, for Peljo went
scrambling up the side of the ship, then Mason, and they began putting the
irons on the crew. Then Hampton and his hostages went on board, and Mason and
the other Southerner rowed back for more men to search the other ship for
hiding crew members and weapons.

Katherine
and the prison guards were transported last, after Hampton was sure the clipper
was completely subdued. Fighting for delay, she made a great fuss climbing down
to the longboat, pointing out how extremely difficult it was in her wide skirts
and how frightened she was of trying it. Fortner, who had been assigned to
bring her over, seemed nonplussed and plunged into begging and cajolery. Peljo,
however, simply tossed her medicine kit down to the men below, then picked her
up and unceremoniously threw her across his shoulder like a bag of meal.

"You
wretch!" Katherine hissed at him. "How dare you manhandle me this
way! You're as bad as your wicked captain. When the Navy catches up with you, I
hope they flay you alive."

Peljo
just laughed and scrambled down the ladder into the boat. She kept up a steady
stream of vilification all the way across the water until Fortner began to look
quite pale and weary, but Peljo merely grinned through her abuse and when they
reached the clipper swung her over his shoulder once again to carry her up on
board.

On
deck she scrambled out of his grasp and slid to the deck. "Captain
Hampton, did you see what he did to me? Are you going to allow your men to
treat me like that? I have never been so humiliated in my life!"

"Ma'am,
he did precisely what I would have done had I been there."

"I
don't doubt that, for you are the lowest creature imaginable."

"Please,
what will our guests think if you talk that way?" he mocked.

Furiously
she stamped her foot. "Damn you! You selfish, maniacal, murderous,
traitorous pirate!"

"She
sure has a tongue on her, don't she, Captain?" Peljo said admiringly.

"Yes,
she does. But I am greatly shocked to hear a lady curse so. What would your
Great-Uncle Ebenezer say?"

"Who?"

"I
thought all Bostonians had a Great-Uncle Ebenezer—you know, the one who wrote
the book of edifying essays for Christian boys."

"Don't
be so frivolous," she said severely.

"Come,
come, now, my girl, don't be a poor loser. If it's any comfort to you, had it
been I approaching, your scream would have warned me off."

"Had
it been you, you wouldn't have been stupid enough to have rowed over in the
first place!"

"Why,
thank you. I didn't realize I was so highly esteemed."

"Don't
make me laugh." Suddenly her attention was caught by the longboat
returning to the fisherman. "Why are they going back?"

"We
no longer need it, so they are setting it afire."

"You're
going to burn it?" she asked incredulously.

"Certainly.
Why not?"

"But
you built that ship!"

"We
built it to escape in, and now it has served its purpose. I don't intend to
leave it around for the Yankees to use in any way. Even a fishing vessel
destroyed is some loss. Nor do I wish to leave such an obvious indication of
what we have done lying about."

She
watched the figures scurrying about lighting fires and then clambering down the
ropes to the longboat. Something clutched at her throat as the flames began to
climb. She felt some sort of an attachment to that craft. She hated to see it
destroyed, although it was no more than one of her father's ships. Yet he, who
had actually built the thing, could burn it without a qualm.

"What
a heartless man you are."

"So
I have been told. Now, if I may escort you to your cabin?"

"I
would rather stay on deck," she said quickly.

"Now,
now. We have too much to do and you will only get in the way. Besides, I don't
want you pulling another one of your tricks on us."

He
grasped her arm firmly. For a moment she hung stubbornly back, but he jerked
her forward roughly. He led her to the captain's cabin and ushered her inside.
"As you can see, the accommodations here are somewhat nicer.
And
the
doors lock. Sorry to lock you in, but I haven't the time to play hide-and-seek
with you again. I am sure you will be quite comfortable," he said and then
left quickly.

Immediately
she ran over to the door. There was no inside latch; it locked only with a key,
inside and out, and he had the key. Sighing, she turned back to face the room.
The cabin was small, but pleasant. It contained a comfortable-looking bed, a
desk, a small table and chairs, a wardrobe, and a short chest of drawers with a
mirror above it. At the foot of the bed was a large trunk. All the furniture
was fastened to the floor. A small stove by the desk warmed the room. Grateful
for the heat, she removed her cloak and muff and tossed them on the bed, then
began to explore the room.

The
wardrobe contained a few shirts and suits, a uniform, and a pair of boots. The
captain's desk held the usual paraphernalia of instruments, charts, maps, and
logbook, as well as pens, ink, paper, a bottle of whiskey, and a bachelor's
sewing kit. A shelf above the writing area held several well-thumbed books and
a traveler's chess set. Katherine ran her index finger along the spines of the
books: the Bible, Shakespeare, a set of Sir Walter Scott novels, an English
naval history,
Tom Jones,
and
Vanity Fair.
Then she moved away
and sat down on the bed. There was nothing left to explore; she could not bring
herself to look in the trunk—that was too personal.

Her
mind whirled. What was she to do? A poor loser, he had called her. Well, she
had a lot to lose. She was in a worse position than before. Any delay she had
caused and the time spent trapping this ship would soon be made up by the
clipper. It might be only sail, but it was built for speed, light and sleek.
With good winds, they might be able to escape the Navy entirely; certainly, it
would give Hampton several more hours. There was no hope that he might relent;
he had already shown himself a ruthless, selfish man. And her trick about
jumping overboard had enraged him. Now he was more determined than ever to make
her submit, to hurt her. She longed to throw herself on the bed and indulge in
a fit of tears.

Sternly
she reminded herself that she could not be so weak. All she could do now was
wait for the Navy and hope. Perhaps it would be calming to read; perhaps it.
would even bolster her courage. She went back to the desk and paused for a
moment. Suddenly a half-grin flickered across her lips. No doubt she ought to
reread
Ivanhoe,
just to refresh herself on the noble example set for her
by the virtuous Deborah. Determinedly, she sat down in a chair and opened the
book.

Above
her the deck swarmed with activity. While the fishing vessel burned steadily,
some of the
Susan Harper's
new crew scrambled up the masts to set full
sail. Others secured the prisoners in the hold and stacked the arms they had
discovered so that they would be ready for immediate use. When the sails were
set, the men were put to making Quaker guns after the fashion of Captain
Read's. Spars were cut off and painted to resemble small cannon, then lined up
at portholes below deck. The ship was already equipped with two real
six-pounders on deck. Finally the men were able to eat and then go to their
quarters to sleep in shifts, with only a skeleton crew on deck.

Hampton,
after issuing orders and supervising the work, had to check the work on
completion. He had a new crew, and he could not take chances until they established
their reliability. So as the sun gradually inched down over the horizon and
night came, he continued to work, checking, supervising, charting an immediate
course. He paused only to eat and to have some food sent down to Katherine.
When finally he was through, with the ship on course, watch set, and everything
seemingly secured, he went down to his cabin to join the girl.

She
was sitting at the table, every hair in place, calmly reading a book. He
grinned; she could be cool, certainly enough.

"Good
evening, my dear," he said, locking the door and tossing the key onto the
desk. "Have you had a pleasant evening?"

"Quite,
thank you," Katherine said coolly and turned a page, not even glancing up.
Inside her stomach knotted. She had been waiting in fear for several hours, not
really reading, just staring at the pages while her mind raced. Every minute
had seemed an eternity, waiting, hoping, dreading, until she was almost anxious
to get it over with.

Nettled
by her indifference, he searched for something to say to spark her temper. It
occurred to him that that was silly: he wanted to bed her, not fight with her.
So he stopped the taunts that sprang to his mouth and instead searched the room
for liquor. He found the bottle of Irish whiskey in the desk and poured himself
a stiff drink. Katherine watched him out of the corner of her eye, keeping her
head resolutely bent over her book. She did not look up when he sat down across
the table from her and placed his glass and bottle on the table. He downed his
drink, then poured himself another, never taking his eyes off her. The whiskey
spread warmth along his veins. Slowly his taut nerves and muscles began to
relax; for the first time that day, he had a moment in which to luxuriate in
his new freedom. No chains, no guards, no ever-present enemy. He was back at
sea, once more in command; free, and in the company of a desirable woman. His
eyes roamed over her face and body; it was exquisite pleasure to have the time
to slowly appreciate her, to know that his desire could run its full course
without the fear of someone's interference.