Forgotten Fragrance (7 page)

‘One more night might make all the difference. Please. I beg of you, fetch a lantern and at least let me see if the crew have done as Captain Charity asked and provided food and clothing.'

With a tiresome groan Marcus disappeared, returning moments later with a lantern. Charlotte backed down the ladder, one careful step at a time. The hold was eerily silent except for the quickening beat of her heart. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she made out the cage where the girls were imprisoned. Before she'd reached the bottom step fractured beams of light spilt into the hold from above. Marcus lowered the lamp down through the open hatch and she grasped the thin metal handle and swung it around.

Someone had taken the Captain's orders to heart and a bundle of clothes and thin blankets sat next to the open doors of the cage. A flurry of movement rippled through the crumple of bodies. Dark eyes wide with fright gazed up at her, and then the same low pitiful wail filled the confined space.

Resisting the temptation to cover her ears Charlotte crept closer and moved the pile of blankets revealing several hard dry hunks of bread and a pitcher of water. She stepped gingerly to the slatted gate of the cage and crouched down, offering a slab of bread in her outstretched hand. Long brown fingers reached out, snatched it from her and retreated into the stack of bodies then, slowly, the conglomeration of limbs untangled.

‘Don't be afraid, I am here to help you.' She tried to beat back the tremor in her voice.

Crawling on all fours like a beaten dog, a body wrapped in a tattered cloth moved forwards, blinking in the light. Charlotte reached for a blanket and offered it. The woman grabbed it from her and pulled it around her naked shoulders.

‘What is your name?' Realising her foolishness in expecting the woman to understand she reached for a second blanket.

‘Mina.'

Charlotte turned around. ‘Mina,' she murmured, breaking off a piece of bread and passing it to her. Mina tore in with her nimble fingers and chewed.

‘Where is your homeland?' Charlotte said, settling the lamp on the floor. In the light she could see Mina clearly and contrary to her expectations she was indeed a woman.

‘Loyalty Islands,' she replied, wiping the remaining crumbs of bread into her mouth. ‘Loyalty Islands the missionary men call them.'

Charlotte nodded. Marcus talked of the work of missionaries all over the South Seas and New Zealand. ‘I'm here to help you. I have clothes and blankets for the hammocks.' Determined not to make any sudden movement and jeopardise the fragile truce she'd established, Charlotte stood.

Reaching up she hung the lantern on one of the beams and then stooped to pick up a damp blanket from the pile on the floor. She placed it in the hammock and swung it gently. ‘You can sleep here.'

Mina's white teeth flashed and she called something in her own tongue. In a matter of moments a dozen girls surrounded her.

‘What in God's name are you doing down there?' Marcus' voice filled the hold and the girls stilled like startled fawns, pulling the blankets over their frail shoulders.

‘Marcus, everything is fine. I will be up in a moment.'

‘I'm coming down.' His footfall echoed on the ladder, breaking the tense silence.

Stooping, his turtle-like head protruded below the hatch and he issued a pained guttural sound, then moved rapidly down into the hold and grasped one of the girl's arms. She let out a small cry.

‘Poor unfortunate,' he murmured.

‘Marcus, be careful, you are hurting her.'

‘Rubbish. I am doing no such thing; they don't feel pain as we do. Watch!' His hand pushed aside the blanket and snaked down the girl's body, around the curve of her bottom, pinching her heavily. Despite her struggles he dragged her flush against his body.

The girl's knee shot up and landed with a sickening thud against Marcus' groin.

He dropped her like a hot coal and bent double. ‘Heathen bitch!' With one hand clutched between his legs he flayed the other in the air. So close to the girl's face that Charlotte grimaced, her own cheek throbbing in sympathy, then he bent double again groaning loud and low. He deserved it.

A stunned silence filled the hold and no one moved until Marcus straightened up, his face devoid of expression save for the sweat glistening on his brow. He unhooked the lantern and made for the ladder without a backward glance. Darkness descended.

‘Charlotte! Come now. Enough is enough.'

Mina's fingers squeezed her hand gently. ‘Thank you, Missus,' she whispered.

In the all-encompassing darkness Charlotte groped her way up the ladder. Marcus had vanished, concerned for his own safety no doubt. The moonlight lit her steps to the top of the ladder. She sucked in a refreshing gasp of clean fresh sea air. Such a relief to be out of the hold. With food, water and blankets the girls would be safe enough until morning and if the kick Marcus had received was any example, they were better able to defend themselves than she was.

‘Oof!' The breath flew out of her lungs. Her heart thundered as strong hands pulled her up the last remaining steps onto the deck. Christian's warm arms wrapped around her and she found her face pressed to his chest. Her pulse raced and she melted against him, drawing comfort from his big, masculine form. A long shuddering sigh raced from her lungs as she relaxed against him.

‘Stay away from him.' He cupped her chin in his rough hand and tipped her face up to his. The seconds hung like sea spray as though she stretched for something beyond her reach, something she couldn't find, an echo of a long forgotten cry. A wave lifted the ship and she rocked against him. Steadying her with his arm around her waist he led her to the wheel.

‘I'll take it from here, Catz,' he said, dismissing the pot-bellied seaman. ‘Take hold of the wheel, Charlotte.'

Charlotte curled her shaking fingers around the smooth teak polished by hundreds of hands and thousands of miles. He reached around her to the wheel, the heat of his body chasing away the last remnants of her fear.

‘You've stopped shivering. Are you warm now?'

‘I didn't know I was shivering.' Charlotte smiled into the darkness, relishing the heat of his body at her back and the unexpected security he provided. She'd never stood this close to a man. To a boy…to dear Jamie when they had hidden behind walls and lurked in dark alleys waiting for the Bobbies to pass, but never this close to a man, least of all Marcus.

‘What were you doing down there in the dark alone. I thought Marcus was accompanying you to the hold.'

‘Marcus was with me but he left and took the lantern with him. One of the girls kicked him.'

A laugh rumbled in Christian's chest. ‘So you have tended to our passengers?'

‘Yes. I've given them the blankets and food and shown them the hammocks. They will at least be warm and comfortable tonight, but Captain —'

‘Christian…' His smooth deep voice cloaked her like down. ‘Call me Christian.'

‘Christian.' She tried the word and as before it stuck on her lips. It didn't belong to this unconventional man. She glanced down at his arms, strong, corded and tanned, so different from her own. Even his hair was unlike anything she'd seen before, wild and untamed, every colour from darkish brown to almost white, a lion's mane. Different, different to anyone she'd ever seen, yet nestled in his arms she was more at ease than she could ever remember. A mass of contradictions.

‘You can't allow those poor children to be sold into a brothel. They're hardly old enough to have left home. Never mind being thrown into a world of rough seamen to have their bodies abused. There must be an alternative.'

‘We will find one. I will either arrange for some sort of transport from Boyd Town back to their homeland or we will take them with us to Sydney and solve the problem there. Whaling ships call into the South Sea Islands all the time.'

‘Loyalty Islands.'

‘Loyalty Islands?'

‘Yes, they are from the Loyalty Islands. One of the girls speaks passable English and she told me.'

‘Ah yes — the missionaries. They started making their mark in the South Seas a few years back.
Zephyrus
called in there often to take on supplies and sometimes…' His words petered out and his arms stiffened on the wheel. ‘Jonas would never have condoned slavery. Henk is wrong.'

Henk couldn't possibly be right. After six years aboard the
Zephyrus
Christian would have known if Jonas traded slaves. Until this voyage the ship functioned as a whaler, at sea for months on end, calling into port only for repairs or when their supplies of fresh water ran low. The sea provided food aplenty and even a bay whaler was a self-sufficient factory set up to process the whale from oil to bone. The only time they'd been in port for more than a fleeting moment was the recent refit in Hobart Town.

And Jonas! The old man knew every breath taken aboard ship no matter how insignificant. He would never trade a human cargo.

‘What are you going to do?' Charlotte's voice broke into his thoughts.

‘I'm going to make sure they are returned to the Loyalty Islands and that's the end of it. Henk is not the captain of this ship. I make the decisions. When we reach Port Albert and the convicts disembark I shall speak to the authorities, make arrangements.'

Lulled by the mood of companionship and Charlotte's closeness Christian relaxed. Chance had thrown them together, pure blind chance, or had it been God's will as Jonas' believed? Blind chance had thrown him in the path of the
Zephyrus
; blind chance had led Charlotte to his ship.

‘I'd think again, Capt'n, if I were you.'

Charlotte's explosive intake of breath made the skin on his neck prickle. He pulled her closer.

‘Do it and your trading licence will be revoked for slaving.'

Charlotte shrank against him at the menace in Henk's voice.

‘And no one will make any money from this voyage. I won't be happy and nor will the crew.'

‘I don't care whether you are happy or not Henk. It is what I am going to do.
Zephyrus
is not a slave trader.'

‘It's time we took a vote then.'

Releasing his hold on the wheel Christian turned. In the flickering lamplight the crew ranked behind Henk, their mood anything but pretty.

‘You can take all the votes you like, as captain I have the right of veto.'

Henk gave a derogatory sniff, hawked and turned to the men behind him. ‘What do you think, boys?'

A flash of light on metal registered in the corner of his eye. Feet shuffled against the decking. With their knives and harpoons resting in their hands his crew proved formidable foes. Charlotte had frozen, she wasn't even breathing. To move would endanger her.

‘We're not ‘appy.' Bristol broke the charged silence. ‘Six months careening and caulking was bloody hard work and no pay. Two passengers, a few sacks of potatoes and the rates from a couple of dozen convicts — it's not looking good, Capt'n.'

‘And the additional whale oil we'll pick up in Boyd Town,' Christian added in a conciliatory tone, though knowing it would be insufficient to pacify them. He had to get Charlotte back to her cabin; even Marcus would be safer than this bunch of seething sailors. ‘You all knew it would be difficult to start with. I'm not going against Jonas' wishes.'

‘Jonas ain't here no more. It's our wishes that count.' Catz stood alongside Bristol.

‘Yeah and we
wish
for some more,' Jinks said, his eyes unwavering.

‘You too, Jinks?' Christian asked.

‘Yeah, me too.'

‘And me.'

One by one his crew lined up alongside Catz and Bristol, their weapons grasped in their hands. The night air chilled Christian's spine as he registered their worsening mood. With the stakes raised dissatisfaction would give way to insurgence.

‘Charlotte, go to your cabin.'

‘No.'

‘Do as I say and do it now. I will deal with this.' Christian kept his gaze trained on the mutinous mob. Charlotte had to go below decks, out of harm's way. Anything Marcus subjected her to tonight would be nothing compared to the assault of these very angry men.

Christian ignored the look of despair she threw at him as he pointed in the direction of her cabin. ‘Go!'

Keeping his eyes trained firmly on Henk's seditious glare Christian shifted his feet, centring his balance. He ignored the cold clammy prickle on his skin as every muscle tensed in readiness.

Charlotte followed his instructions and once she disappeared from sight Christian's full attention focussed on the men before him. ‘I'll tell you what is happening and you can accept it or leave the ship when we dock in Port Albert — unless you'd like to leave now?' He raised one eyebrow and shifted his gaze along the line of men. Not one of them responded, not a flicker of emotion.

‘We won't be leavin', Capt'n. We'll be calling the shots because right now you're outnumbered.' A group growl emphasised Henk's words. ‘You go quietly to your cabin and stay there and we'll take the ship into port, unload the convicts and then we'll be on our way to Boyd Town, and no one'll be any the wiser.'

‘You seem to have forgotten something.'

‘Yeah! What's that?' Catz's belly shook as he drew his shoulders back and lumbered a few paces closer to Christian, his chin jutting. ‘We want what's owed to us and without those blackbirds we ain't goin' to see it.'

‘My cabin is currently occupied and those passengers are part of the money you're so keen to get a share of.'

‘Yeah well…in the mate's cabin and the girl can go in with her man.' An assortment of dirty sniggers greeted Henk's words.

‘The God-botherer'll enjoy it.' Catz smacked his lips and leered.

‘Give him the chance to get what he's been hankering for.' Bristol's words gave voice to Christian's fears. The last thing he wanted was Charlotte anywhere near Marcus, even sending her to the cabin next to his was closer than he would have chosen.