Gregory, Lisa (26 page)

She
looked at him, startled, and saw that his eyes were twinkling. "Must you
always be making fun of me?" she said coldly.

He
smiled. "If Dr. Rackingham were not at least sixty years old, I would
probably be deadly serious."

"I
can't imagine what you mean."

"Only
that I am very possessive, and I want no other man sharing your favors."

"Well,
since I was obviously happy and enjoying myself, you can be assured that he did
not do the sort of things you do to me."

He
winced exaggeratedly. "A direct hit, Miss Devereaux." He ate in
silence for a moment. "She's gotten close enough for me to make her out.
Peljo's right—she's military."

"What
kind of ship?"

"Sail.
Very sleek, built for speed. Faster than we are and sailing full speed ahead.
Several years old, I think." He went on to describe in detail the sails,
masts, body design, and equipment.

Katherine
listened interestedly, building a picture of it in her mind. "If it's out
of Boston, I know of only three like that, the
Pandora,
the
Susquetack,
and the
Dorsey."

"Do
you know their captains?"

She
shook her head slowly. "I don't know who commands the
Dorsey.
The
Pandora
's
captain is a New Yorker, I forget his name—something Dutch. I don't know
anything about him. But that's the best ship; we built her ten years ago—she's
solid and fast."

"What
about the
Susquetack?"

"I
know her captain—Harold Camberton. He's professional Navy. Lieutenant Perkins
thinks highly of him."

His
gray eyes turned icy. "And am I to trust Lieutenant Perkins's
judgment?"

"It
matters not at all to me whether you do or not. Whatever you may think of him
personally, no matter how stupid you may think he is to want to marry me, he is
a very good sailor and he knows ships. I think he's a fairly good judge of men
also."

"Then
what does Lieutenant Perkins say about him?"

"That
he's strong, solid, steady, tenacious, respected by his men. He's not
flamboyant. He's conservative in battle, but not prone to making mistakes.
Slow, but persistent. He doesn't dazzle, but he's tough."

Hampton
looked at her, weighing her comments. Finally he said, "Then I guess
perhaps I should hope it's not the
Susquetack."
He rose. "I
have to get back on deck. Thank you for your information; you never cease to
amaze me. Come here." He put his hands on her shoulders and she tensed at
his touch. "Don't be so stiff, girl. I only want to kiss you."

He
bent and kissed her full on the lips; his mouth felt warm and soft against
hers. His kiss was neither passionate nor gentle, but a sort of firm, warm
reassurance. She wasn't sure whether the reassurance was for her or for him.

"I
must go," he said, paused as if to say something, then shrugged and said,
"Come up if you like."

Katherine
picked up her cloak and followed him out the door. He allowed her to look at
the ship through the telescope.

"There
is one bad thing about the sea," he said. "There's no place to
hide." He clenched his fist. "If only I knew whether they intercepted
that ship."

"It's
not a heavily armed ship," Katherine said. "It's too light and
speedy."

"Yes.
It won't be so bad if I have to do open battle with it. But I prefer to avoid
that. Too chancy, as poorly armed as we are. And I can't afford to lose any
men; my crew's too small. Worst, these men have very little experience
together—tricky maneuvers might be difficult."

"How
do you feel when you go into battle?"

"Tense,
excited, scared to death. How do you feel?"

"I've
never battled with anyone but you."

"I
know." He smiled down into her face, his eyes shooting into hers.
"That's what I mean."

Her
stomach began to dance. "The same, I guess." Her voice was small; she
could hardly get it out.

"Foolish
girl. I won't hurt you. Don't you know that you have only to surrender to
conquer me?"

"I
don't understand."

Lightly
his fingertips grazed her cheek. "Someday you will."

Nervously
she turned away and returned to the subject of battles. He followed the change
without comment, and they passed some time discussing ships, wars, and
maneuvers. Katherine was so interested in the subject that she forgot her
animosity and questioned and listened to him eagerly. He found that he enjoyed
explaining things to her, for her questions were bright and knowledgeable, her
understanding excellent, and her interest flattering. It helped to ease the
tension of waiting as the other ship crept closer.

As
the afternoon wore on, the naval vessel gained steadily. When it came within
signaling distance, Hampton decided to go on the offensive. He signaled to
them, stating the name of his ship and requesting them to identify themselves.
The answer came back U.S.S.
Susquetack.
Hampton raised his eyebrows and
made a faint bow toward Katherine.

"It
seems your fiancé's captain is upon us."

"Do
you think he knows?"

"If
we presume that he is one of the ships sent after us, doesn't it seem strange
that he wouldn't question us about whether we had seen the stolen ship? That
would seem to indicate he knows we are what he is looking for. On the other
hand, perhaps he is not one of those ships, knows nothing about us, and then it
isn't odd at all."

"Why
else would he have chased us all day?"

"I'm
afraid you're right." Decisively he turned and began snapping orders to
his men. They raced to do his bidding. The ship turned gracefully and swooped
back toward the
Susquetack.

"What
are you doing?" she asked, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Attacking,"
he replied calmly. "We shall see how well a good conservative sailor can
fight against unusual tactics. And you, my dear, are going below."

"I
most certainly will not," she answered heatedly. "I am staying right
here, where I can see everything."

His
brow contracted thunderously. "You'll do as I say. I won't have you hurt.
And I can't afford to have my mind wandering to how you're faring. Besides,
you'll get in the way."

"I
won't," she pleaded. "Please let me stay. I promise I'll stay out of
the way and I will not get hurt."

"How
can you promise that you won't get hit by a shell?"

"Please."

"Absolutely
not. Now get below."

She
glared at him, not moving.

"Katherine,
I haven't time to fool with you. If I have to pick you up and carry you down
there and lock you in, I shall do so," he threatened.

She
turned and flounced away. Hampton turned his attention to other things and
didn't notice that she got no further than the stairs, then hid herself behind
a pile of ropes and boxes to watch the battle.

The
Susan Harper
ran down her U.S. flag and replaced it with a makeshift
Confederate flag, then fired a neat shot with the six-pounder which hit the
other ship broadside. Hampton fired on the run, made a graceful sweep, and got
off a second round before the enemy gunners were ready to fire. The
Susquetack
's
first shot went wide, giving the
Susan Harper
a few spare minutes in
which to circle and attack from the other side. Katherine sucked in her breath
in admiration of Hampton's skill.

Suddenly
Hampton swung, presenting a narrow target to the other's next broadside, and
scurried away. Within two volleys they were out of range, with little damage
incurred. The
Susquetack
gave pursuit, but as it came within range, the
Susan
Harper
again turned and engaged battle. This time, however, a broadside
smashed into it, shaking the ship and sending wood flying. Again Katherine's
ship twisted out of range, and the deadly dance continued.

Katherine
realized what Hampton was doing. He was slapping at them, darting in and out,
keeping control of the battle in his hands, and eating up valuable time. No
doubt he was hoping to elude them when dark came. Also, he Was attempting to
inflict enough damage to keep them from following or at least to slow them down.
Hence he was using his limited firing power on the masts. While the
Susquetack
's
captain was good, his nature nullified the advantages of his ship. His
craft was smaller and speedier, but his methodical slowness lengthened the ship's
reaction time too much; he could not counter Hampton's quick, wasplike darts
and retreats. He was caught off-guard by the other's unorthodox approach; he
was puzzled, uncertain. He shot to cripple, not to slow, but the
Susan
Harper
was larger and could withstand more punishment. What Camberton
didn't realize was that Hampton did not intend to settle down to a full-scale
fight, that he was just trying to escape.

One
of the
Susan Harper's
balls hit a mast directly and it toppled.
Katherine wanted to cheer, then realized she was supporting her enemy. She
heard her name called and turned reluctantly, fearing the captain's wrath. But
it was Dr. Rackingham signaling to her. She quickly made her way to him.

"Have
you ever done any nursing? I need help with the wounded," he shouted above
the roar of the wind and guns.

"No,
I haven't, but I have a strong stomach and won't faint."

"You'll
do. Come with me."

Katherine
followed the doctor around, carrying his supplies, holding broken limbs as he
set them, handing his instruments to him, swabbing gently at wounds. At first
she thought she had been too confident in her estimation of her abilities, but
she forced down her nausea and steeled herself to the awful cries of pain,
knowing that a display of her sensibilities would not help. Time crept by. She
kneeled, pulled, crouched, shoved, carried until her muscles and joints ached.
Her head pounded from the vibration of the guns. Her face had frozen into a mask
of concerned reassurance. She soon felt infinitely weary, but there was no
rest. Beneath her the deck shuddered as they were hit; the guns pounded; the
ships swerved and turned and raced; the air reeked of gunpowder. But she was
oblivious to the battle, oblivious to everything but the wound of the man in
front of her, oblivious even to the blood splattering her dress or the gash in
her arm where a flying splinter had hit her. Hampton, catching sight of her,
felt the anger flare in him—didn't she realize the danger she was putting
herself in?—and almost went to snatch her away. But he stopped and gave a
rueful shrug. She was needed and making herself useful, and it just would not
be Katherine not to be in the midst of things. He might as well tell the wind
not to blow.

It
was not until she turned to the next patient, only to see there was not another
one waiting, that she realized it. was over. Somewhere along the way it had
grown dark; the guns had stopped booming. She looked dazedly up at Dr.
Rackingham. He smiled wearily.

"Is
it over?" she said. "What happened?"

"We
are giving them the slip," said Matthew behind her.

She
whirled to face him. "We've escaped them?"

"It's
night and difficult to see us; cloudy, no moon or stars. And we are sailing
south instead of in our original direction. We will lose them by morning. We
cut their speed in half, and by the time they repair mast and sails—if they
can—we will be very far away."

Peculiarly
she almost felt relieved. "And what of us? Are we damaged?"

"A
few holes in the hull; we'll make it. As for the men, well, that is what I came
to see the doctor about."

"You're
lucky. No dead. Only one critically wounded—a gut wound. I'm afraid he will be
gone before long. A couple of fractures. Several cuts from flying wood or
pieces of shell. Probably three of them will be out of commission for a while.
The others will be able to do at least some work."

"You
mean we tended no more than that?" Katherine asked, astounded. "It
seemed like hundreds."

"No,
Miss Devereaux, there were only about five or six serious cases. But here, you
are cut yourself. Let me see that."

Numbly
she extended her arm to him. She saw him clean the wound and swab it with
antiseptic as if she were very far away from him and quite unconnected with the
injury. He bandaged it carefully with clean white gauze. Peculiarly he and
Hampton seemed to move away and grow smaller. They were talking but she
couldn't hear their voices, only a faint roaring in her ears like the sound in
a seashell. Suddenly they and the ship began to tilt crazily, and then darkness
rushed in on her.

"My
God!" Matthew cried, catching her limp body before it hit the deck.
"She's fainted."

"She's
had a rough day," Rackingham said. "I suggest you put her to bed.
Here are some smelling salts."

Hampton
swung her into his arms and carried her like a child back to his quarters, where
he carefully laid her on the bed. He waved the bottle of salts beneath her
nose, and her eyes fluttered open. She wrinkled her nose and coughed, pushing
the vial away.