Enchantress (10 page)

“My mistress will not like that. Cleanliness is important to her.”

“Do you never tire of catering to that woman’s slightest whim?”

“I do not find her unreasonable. She is unaccustomed to rough ways.”

“Need I remind you that I am captain of this ship,” Thorn drawled. “Your mistress should have thought of the discomfort she would encounter before she snuck on board. In the palace of the Grand Vizier, she may have been treated like a
princess,” Thorn continued, “but on board my ship, she is just a passenger, and not even a welcome one. Tell your mistress that for me.”

“I shall not tell her that, Captain. She is here through no fault of her own.” Achmed bowed. “I will inform my mistress of your decision.”

After Achmed returned with the captain’s message, Brittany was so angry that she did not stop to consider her actions but stormed out of her cabin and up one deck to the captain’s quarters. She did not wait for an answer to her knock, but pushed the door open to find Thorn Stoddard seated at his desk. When he glanced up at her, there was shock on his face, but it was quickly masked by a look of anger.

Brittany moved quickly over to Thorn and stood with her hands on her hips. “Captain Stoddard, I am told that I cannot have a bath. I have given up much to be on this ship, but I will not give up cleanliness.”

He was not only startled that she spoke English, but that she spoke it with the same clear distinction of the upper class British. Thorn stared at the veil, unable to see the face behind it.

“I do not see that you have any choice, madame. You will find that the rules here on this ship are not so much governed for your comfort as for your safety and the safety of my men.”

“All I ask of you is common courtesy. I would not keep an animal cooped up as you have kept me. I will have my bath if I have to go swimming in the ocean.”

A slight smile tugged at his lips. “It’s a long swim back to Turkey, madame.”

“You are a hateful man, and I do not like you at all well.”

“And you, madame, are spoiled and pampered. In the past, I am sure you always had your own way. That will not be the case on board the
Victorious.
”

She leaned against the desk, propping the palm of her hands on the smooth surface. “You are arrogant and impossible,
Captain Stoddard. I suppose you blame me for the battle with the Turkish Navy.”

The daintiness of her hands drew his attention, and he took notice of how dark her skin was. He realized she was much younger than he had supposed. Although he could not see her expression, he could feel her glaring at him from behind her veil of secrecy.

His eyes narrowed. “You
are
the reason for the battle, and you know it. I have known women like you, who only consider their own needs and not what consequences their actions might have on other lives. I should think you would appreciate the battle that was fought on your behalf.”

“I do appreciate what you did that night, Captain. But I do not appreciate that even though we are not acquainted, you have formed an opinion about me.”

“I have seen enough of you to know what you are like, madame.”

“Oh—are you such an expert on my kind of women, Captain Stoddard?”

“Yes, I know your kind of woman,” he ground out. Then his gaze suddenly clouded. “I have often met your kind.”

She straightened and moved back a pace, not understanding the anger in his voice. But he was not looking at her—he was looking through her. “Will…you allow me to have a bath?” she dared to ask again.

He stood up towering above her, his eyes closed. “Say please.”

“Never!”

“Is please such a difficult a word to say? Have you never said it before?”

“I will see you in hell before I beg anything of you, Captain.”

His laughter was filled with amusement and his eyes sparkled. “Very likely, madame, very likely. On thinking it over, I have decided to be generous and allow you to have your bath. Go to your cabin and send your slave to me. I will give him all you require.”

She moved to the door and turned back to him. They were both aware that she had not won a victory over this man just because he was allowing her to have her bath. “Achmed is not my slave,” she said in a heated voice.

“Your lap dog then?”

“You are a hateful man, Captain. I do not like you at all.”

“So you have already pointed out to me. But be assured that I will not wither away and die from your lack of regard for me.”

She turned away and rushed through the door, not wanting to be near that man one moment longer than necessary. He was the most arrogant, self-assured, and hateful man she had known. Of course she had not known many men, but she doubted that anyone could be worse than Captain Thorn Stoddard.

On returning to her cabin, Brittany unpacked her satchel and surveyed her meager belongings. There were several robes and veils, and a dancing costume that must have been placed in the satchel by one of the harem women, as well as three of her own gowns and undergarments and three pairs of shoes.

Brittany picked up the wooden chest that had been her mother’s. She opened the lid and fingered the jewels and gold that filled the chest to the brim, knowing her mother had given her the jewels. Suddenly she saw the edge of a paper and discovered the letter at the bottom of the chest. She recognized the handwriting as her mother’s.

“My dearest Daughter,

Please know that my prayers are with you, even as you read this note. I pray that God, in his infinite mercy, will see you land on safe shores. Know that it breaks my heart to send you away from my protective arms, but I can no longer keep you safe. Take care of yourself and rely on Achmed as I have all these years, and as soon as conditions permit, we shall be reunited. God bless and keep you, my dearest.”

For a long moment Brittany held the letter to her breasts, while tears of despair washed down her cheeks. “Oh, Mama. I am so confused and alone. I wish you were here.”

The halls of the Grand Seraglio rang with the sultan’s angry voice. He ranted at the poor, unfortunate Admiral Kainardji who had brought him news of defeat at the hands of the American captain.

“Am I surrounded by addle-brained imbeciles? How can you, Admiral Kainardji, allow one ship to out-maneuver and outfight the best of my navy?”

Admiral Kainardji lowered his eyes. “The weather was against us throughout the battle, and this Captain Stoddard struck at us at night. Like all Americans, this one did not fight by any rules.”

Selim’s eyes became dark pools of rage. “I want this man’s head brought back to me. No—better still, bring him back to me in one piece. I do not care how this is accomplished, just do it!”

Admiral Kainardji’s eyes closed against the fury he saw etched on the sultan’s face; he trembled because that rage was directed at him.

“But, Majesty, the American, Captain Stoddard, will by now be out of our territorial waters. How can I pursue him in open sea?”

“Fool! Find him wherever he goes, and bring him to me. We will see how strong he is when he is confronted with a real man, like myself.”

“And the daughter of the English Rose?”

“She is not to be harmed—is that understood? Bring her to me, and do it as quickly as possible. But if you have to subdue her, take care that you leave no lasting scars. It will go hard with you if my orders are disobeyed this time.”

Admiral Kainardji bowed low. “Yes, Your Majesty, it will be as you command.”

“Sails in the distance, Captain,” the watch called down from his lofty perch. “Looks like it’s a Turkish vessel, and she’s closing on us fast.”

“Damn,” Thorn muttered under his breath. “Look sharp and man all positions,” he called out as he ran across the deck to take the helm. “Get Cappy up here on the double, and have all cannon made ready.”

“Aye, aye,” the watch called out, sliding down the rope and landing with both feet upon the deck.

The afternoon was tense as the Turkish ship matched the course of the
Victorious.
Thorn kept a wary eye on the distant sails, while his men stood by the cannons, ready for their captain’s command.

By sunset, the enemy had closed the gap between them, and the crew of the
Victorious
were primed and ready for battle. Just as the enemy vessel came near enough to fire her port cannon, she lowered her sails and turned back to sea.

Thorn called down to his men. “We are within sight of the Canary Islands, so the Turks dare not engage us in warfare. Rest easy men, they are sailing away. Make ready to come into port by sunrise.”

“Looks like we bested those devils again, Captain,” Cappy observed with a grin. “The bastards have turned tail and run. We’ve seen the last of them.”

Thorn turned the wheel against the wind. “Don’t be too sure, Cappy. They wanted the woman bad enough to send their fleet against us; it isn’t likely they will give up without another go at us.”

“We can’t let them get their hands on the woman, Captain.”

Thorn looked long and hard at his first mate. “How do the other men feel about this?”

“They think it’s a matter of pride, Captain. We didn’t run from them before, and we won’t run now. They hope the Turks will give us another chance to fight.”

Thorn chuckled. “What kind of bloodthirsty crew have I here?”

“The best damned crew that ever sailed, Captain,” Cappy announced with pride.

“Aye, Cappy, that they are.” Thorn glanced at the sky and saw the high, fleecy clouds. “Go below and get some sleep, Cappy. I’ll take the first watch. I don’t anticipate any trouble tonight.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The view of the Canary Islands was shrouded by the morning mist that had closed in around the
Victorious
just before sunrise.

But by noon, a strong trade wind had blown the mist away and the tall mountainous peaks and volcanic cliffs of the island of La Palma appeared to rise up from the ocean floor like dark phantoms.

A fresh breeze touched Thorn’s cheek as he brought the
Victorious
windward. It was a bright afternoon without a cloud in the sky as Thorn rounded a wide cove and the village of Santa Cruz de la Palma came into view.

Thorn called his crew together and informed them that they would be on the island for a week since the ship needed several repairs. Here they would also unload crates of dates, almonds, and olives, then take on a cargo of bananas, oranges, and coffee to transport to America.

Thorn skillfully manuevered the
Victorious
with the tide and anchored her in four fathoms of water so his crew could easily perform the needed repairs.

His eyes ran up the tall mast, where he observed that new
canvas would have to be stretched; that would keep the sailmaster occupied for several days. One of the masts had splintered, and the railing and part of the deck on the lee side needed to be replaced.

The clinking of the anchor sliding into place blended with the cry of noisy sea gulls that hovered above the ship. Thorn tied off the wheel, and the
Victorious
danced on the surface like a cork bobbing in water.

Thorn glanced down at the main deck to see Achmed lumbering up the steps toward him. In a strange way, Thorn had begun to admire the big eunuch. He had certainly never seen anyone with the black man’s capacity for devotion to such an unworthy individual as the Grand Vizier’s woman. Thorn could only imagine what hell Achmed must live through, trying to cater to the demands and whims of that spoiled female he served.

“Captain Stoddard,” Achmed said, smiling, “will it be possible for my mistress and myself to go ashore today? I believe it would be good for her.”

Thorn sighed. The woman’s demands had already started.

Against his will, Thorn was beginning to be intrigued by the mystery that clung to the woman. He resented the fact that she was often on his mind.

Thorn quickly nodded in agreement. Perhaps the woman could use a respite from her cramped quarters, he thought, and, besides, it would be good to be rid of her for a while.

“The
Victorious
will be under repair for several days. Perhaps the noise will disturb your mistress, and she might find it more pleasant staying in the village. I can recommend the Casa del Oro, an inn where I have stayed on occasion.”

“I am certain my mistress will agree to this. She will not want to be a burden to you and your crew while the vessel is being repaired.”

Thorn gave the man a doubtful glance. “Tell your mistress to make ready at once. I will be going ashore in exactly twenty minutes, and I do not intend to wait for her.”

“She will be ready, Captain Stoddard, you have my word on this.”

“Very well, but I want it understood that I will not be responsible for the woman’s safety while she is off my ship. And when I am ready to sail, she had better be back on board, for I will not be delayed because of her.”

“You will not have to worry about her, Captain. She will do what is expected of her.”

Thorn’s deep-blue eyes clouded with skepticism. “Just keep her close to you, and see that she doesn’t come to any harm. I have enough to worry about without indulging your temperamental mistress.”

“You will have no trouble from her, Captain.” Achmed knew that Thorn Stoddard had completely misjudged Brittany, but there was no reason to enlighten him. Perhaps it would be best that no one knew how young and unspoiled Brittany was—especially not the handsome young captain.

Brittany was seated in the longboat, her veil in place, making her anonymous, or so she thought until she caught the four men who were rowing the longboat casting inquisitive glances her way. They apparently thought her something of an oddity. However, their captain, who was seated directly across from her, did not even look in her direction.

She studied Thorn Stoddard’s profile. She liked the clean sweep of his brow, and the manner in which his dark hair fell across his forehead. She was not certain if she approved of the arrogant tilt of his chin that suggested impatience and a ready temper—but of course she already knew that about him. He was insufferable, yet intriguing.

Suddenly Thorn raised his eyes to her, and her heart skipped a beat. Brittany found it was hard to breathe, for it felt as if his piercing gaze could see past the thick gauze of her veil—but she knew that was impossible.

When she could bear his scrutiny no longer, she turned
away and refused to look in the captain’s direction, although she could still feel his glance on her.

Thorn watched the delicate hand that pulled the veil into place, and cursed his growing fascination with this woman. She was mysterious, and he found himself wanting to rip the veil from her head and look upon the face that made the sultan want to possess her and had driven the Grand Vizier to desperate means to keep her from him.

The rising tide propelled the longboat forward on swift frothy waves, and with the help of the four able seamen who plied the oars, the boat soon reached shore. One of the men leaped onto the pier and secured the boat.

When Achmed swung Brittany onto the pier, her legs felt as if they had no substance, and he laughed as he aided her up the steep slope. As they moved away, she could hear Captain Stoddard issuing orders to his men, and she urged Achmed to hurry to the carriages that were waiting to transport passengers into Santa Cruz de la Palma.

As Achmed assisted Brittany into the carriage, many of the local inhabitants cast inquisitive glances their way. Apparently they were curious about a woman who covered her face, and was accompanied by a big colorfully dressed eunuch.

Brittany longed to rip the veil away so she could feel the sun on her face. Glancing back over her shoulder, she was glad to see that Captain Stoddard and his men had moved in the direction of the warehouses on the other side of the pier. Although she told herself she was glad to be away from the captain’s searing glance, her eyes followed his movements until he was out of her view.

As the horse-drawn carriage moved forward with a sudden lurch, Brittany soon became interested in her surroundings. This was a land of vibrant colors. The carriage moved past orange groves, where the trees were so ripened with fruit that the branches dipped toward the ground. Banana trees displayed their golden bounty beneath a clear blue sky. The houses were whitewashed, with red tiled roofs. Beautiful
multicolored birds sang from treetops, and a gentle breeze brought with it the smell of the sea. Barefoot children played in the narrow streets with joyous laughter. The people were very dark-skinned, and Brittany felt certain that with her darkened skin and hair, she could easily be mistaken for one of them.

Achmed appeared to be taking in the scene with equal interest.

“I have never seen anything so lovely, Achmed,” Brittany told him. “Surely this is a paradise.”

“You say that only because you have seen so little of the world.” He drew himself up with proud dignity. “I once traveled to Paris, France, with Lord Simijin, and that city was indeed wondrous to behold. But this is indeed a lovely village, little mistress. It might be pleasant to live here.”

“One would have to be a Spanish citizen, Achmed, for the Canary Islands belong to Spain.”

“Then it might not be so pleasant after all.” He smiled broadly. “Much better to go to America, where you may have a grandmother to welcome you with love.”

“A woman I do not know. I believe she was never kind to my mother, although my mother has not said so. It is just a feeling I have. Mama once told me she wrote my grandmother and her father in England about my birth, and yet, she heard from neither of them.”

Achmed looked at her gravely. “If your grandmother is not kind to you, do not fear, for I shall take you somewhere else.”

Her eyes clouded with distress. “I wonder what America will be like. I know that it was once at war with England but that the two countries are at peace now.”

“I do not know about such things, although I have heard it said that there is much to admire in America.”

“I hope so, but it sounds like the end of the earth to me, Achmed.”

“It will not be so bad, little mistress, and I will be with you.”

She laid her hand on his. “That is the only thing that makes this all bearable, my dear friend.”

The Turkish man-of-war sailed into a secluded cove. With a satisfied smile, Admiral Kainardji adjusted his spyglass. Yes, there was the
Victorious.
Her crew was unsuspecting that they were being watched.

He slammed his spyglass down, and laughter filled the air. To capture Thorn Stoddard might prove to be easier than he had hoped. He could not attack the
Victorious
outright, for they were both in Spanish waters. No, he would wait and find the captain alone at sea.

First, he had to locate the daughter of the English Rose. It was unlikely she was on board the ship since it was under repair. Most probably she had moved into the village—or so he hoped. It would be easy enough to find out.

Kainardji aimed his spyglass at the shore and saw a carriage making its way to the village. Excitement throbbed through his body. Yes, there could be no mistaking the woman draped in veils and accompanied by the eunuch. It must be the woman he had been sent to find.

Satisfaction gleamed in his dark eyes when he saw she was not guarded. He would soon have her in his custody. Captain Stoddard might be harder to capture, but Kainardji would have the advantage of surprise on his side.

The night was dark. Brittany stood at the window of her small bedroom, looking down on the square below, hoping to catch a glimpse of Achmed. He had insisted that she remain in the room while he purchased food for them both.

The air was suddenly filled with music, and the small square across the way was alive with flickering candles. People were beginning to gather, so Brittany leaned out, trying to see what was happening.

Brittany was not aware that dark, hostile eyes watched her from the shadows below. Admiral Kainardji slipped behind
a flowering bush and motioned for his four companions to join him there.

“See the woman there at the window? You must bring her to me at once, but do not harm her in any way or the sultan will see you punished. Go now to capture her before her eunuch returns!”

Admiral Kainardji’s men moved swiftly toward the Casa del Oro. Unnoticed, they slipped inside the inn and silently climbed the stairs.

Brittany tapped her foot, keeping time with the music. It appeared the island people were fond of music, for a crowd had gathered in the square to dance and join in the merrymaking.

Unconsciously, she swung her hips in rhythm with the music, for she had been taught by Juanita to dance to Spanish folk songs.

Because of the heat, Brittany had removed her veil and was now dressed in her own pale-pink muslin gown. She hummed to herself and tapped her heels, then whirled around the room with wild abandonment, the tempo filling her senses and her feet tapping out the rhythm.

When the knock fell on her door, Brittany laughingly opened it, expecting to see Achmed standing there. “I have just been dancing, Ac—” She broke off in horror when she saw the four Turkish sailors, and knew they had been sent by the sultan.

Rough hands pulled her into the hallway, and she would have screamed but for the hand that clamped painfully over her mouth.

Brittany kicked and fought against her assailants, but she soon realized she could not win against them. Twisting and turning, a silent whimper caught in her throat, and she felt tears sting her eyes.

“Be still,” a voice warned as one of the men spoke to her in the Turkish language. “You will not be harmed if you come with us without a struggle.”