Gregory, Lisa (15 page)

Fortner
squatted down beside him and said, "I see the woman of your dreams has
become engaged." Cheerfully he shoved a fork of potatoes into his mouth.

Hampton
answered him with only a noncommital grunt.

"Guess
you'll never get to taste her charms," the young man teased.

"I
wouldn't count on that, Ned. I'm taking her with me when we leave."

"What!
Sir, you can't be serious."

"I
am," he replied coolly.

"But
to kidnap her! To—to—you can't really mean to take her by force."

The
captain shot him an amused glance. "I can—and shall, if force is
needed."

"But,
Matt—I mean, Captain—even though she's a Yankee, still she's a lady—gently
reared, no doubt a virgin."

"More
trouble, I'll admit, but I think she's worth it."

"Really,
sir—" Fortner spluttered, unable to express his outraged chivalry.

"Come,
now, Fortner, don't be childish. I am not your vision of a Southern gentleman.
Normally this is not the sort of activity I engage in, but the circumstances
are extraordinary." He looked at the young man, his eyes hard and
implacable. "Don't cross me, Ensign. When I want something, I get it, and
time and circumstances don't permit me to play leisurely chivalrous games with
Miss Devereaux. I plan to take the lady with me, and I fail to see how it
concerns you."

The
young man gulped at the steel of the other's gray eyes. "Of course, sir,
there is nothing I can do since you're my superior officer. But I must protest;
I think it's very unwise. She'll impede us, sir. This is a very dangerous and
uncertain enterprise to drag a girl along on!"

"Ensign,
I am the captain of this crew, and I think that I have proved that I am quite
capable of planning and directing this venture. I am quite aware of the hazards
involved." Suddenly he grinned to soften the rebuff. "I prefer a few
dangers in war—and love."

Fortner
had to return the smile. "I'm sorry, sir. I know I'm out of place trying
to tell you what to do. It was just that, well, she's been rather kind to us,
you know."

"I
know, Fortner. Believe me, I don't plan to harm the girl. She may even enjoy
it." He winked and laughed.

The
time passed slowly for Katherine after Lieutenant Perkins sailed. She found
herself something of a minor scandal for becoming engaged to a nobody. Lillian
Stephens said maliciously that, considering her age and unmarried state,
Katherine had had to accept the only thing that came along. Others came to call
on Katherine to quiz her on her reasons for marrying him. Aside from these
annoyances, her days were monotonously uneventful. Amanda maintained a huffy
silence, and Captain Hampton kept his distance. Pegeen talked of nothing but
the wedding and her Jimmy O'Toole. The wedding was too indefinite for Katherine
to begin any preparations, and it was too early for any bridal parties. The
only thing she found to do was choose and be fitted for a wedding dress. Even
the daily routine of the office grew dull, particularly after the new ship was
moved from dry dock into the water for testing and final touches, and she could
no longer see the workers. The days and weeks crept by, as February drifted
into March; and slowly the weather showed signs of warming.

One
day in early March, as the prison wagons pulled into the yards, Hampton knew
that the time had come. The ship was seaworthy now, though lacking final
graces; soon the prisoners would be taken off it. What decided him in favor of
this particular day was that four barrels of fresh water stood nearby on the
docks, waiting to be used in cleaning the decks of another ship. He and his men
had to have water on board ship to make good their escape.

Casually
he turned to Fortner and said, "Tell the men to overpower the guard as
soon as we reach the ship. We have only an hour before the civilian workers
arrive."

Former
gaped at him in astonishment, then gulped and said, "Yes, sir."

"You
and I will take Gunther. Peljo and Emerson will get Jackson; Mason and Carter
take Bannion, and Jenkins and Puryear take Sanderson. Remember, no noise, and
all of them at the same instant. I'll give the signal."

Fortner
quietly passed the word as the men jumped from the wagons and walked toward the
ship. Hampton could feel the familiar tightening in his stomach, the sudden
lightness of head and rush of adrenalin that he always felt before battle.

"Tippins,"
he leaned toward one of his men as they walked up the gangplank. "Start a
fight aft—enough to bring the guards."

"Yes,
sir."

As
Tippins purposefully headed toward the rear of the ship, Hampton and Fortner
hung back by their guard.

"Say,
Sergeant Gunther, when we gonna move to another ship, you think?" Fortner
said conversationally.

"Dunno.
You boys just get to work."

Hampton
kept one eye on the brewing quarrel, and just as Tippins swung, he said
lightly, "Sure would like to get back up to where I can keep my eye on
that Devereaux girl."

"Why,
you—" The Yankee turned on him wrathfully, as the other guard ran toward
the fight. His back was now to Fortner, who quickly dropped his chains around
Gunther's neck and jerked back, choking off his breath.

Hampton
swept one arm up in a signal and with the other grabbed the guard's rifle.
Quickly he took the guard's pistol from his holster and the keys to the irons.
He glanced toward the knot of struggling men and hurried toward them, but by
the time he reached them the three guards had been knocked unconscious and
disarmed.

"Strip
'em," he said. "And four of you men put on their uniforms and pretend
to stand guard. Mason, here are the keys. Unlock everyone's chains and put
irons on these guards and take them below. Peljo, come here."

He
drew the dark little man off to one side. "Peljo, you know Miss
Devereaux?"

The
earringed man grinned and nodded.

"Good;
go up to the office, very excited. Tell her there's been a fight here and one
of the men has been hurt badly."

"You,
sir?"

"No,
not me," he grinned ironically. "She might not come. Say Fortner.
Tell her we need her assistance immediately. Don't let anyone else come. Bring
her down to the captain's quarters. Got that?"

"Yes,
sir." He took off at a run.

Turning
back to his men, he assigned stations and had them draw up the anchor. Mason
undid his chains, and Hampton rubbed his chafed wrists. God, it felt good to be
able once again to spread his arms wide.

"Are
the guards taken care of?" he asked Mason.

"Yessir.
In the hold. Shall I dump these chains below decks?"

"Yes.
We may need them later."

"Sir—,"
came a worried hiss. "MacPherson's coming."

"Damn.
I had hoped we wouldn't have to take him. Any of the other workers coming
yet?"

"No,
sir."

"Well,
let him on board. Have the guards hit him on the head as soon as he steps on.
No noise—and try not to kill him."

MacPherson
came up the plank and was rendered unconscious before he had taken two steps
across the deck. Hampton stationed men at the moorings and gangplank, ready to
untie the ship and pull up the plank as soon as Miss Devereaux was aboard.
Anxiously the captain kept glancing toward the yards. Where the hell were they?
What if she was late to work today? Or perhaps had decided not to come in at
all? He sincerely hoped Peljo wouldn't be fool enough to wait for her if she
wasn't there.

Then
suddenly they came into sight. Though both were hurrying, they were slowed by
her skirts and Peljo's chains to an awkward gait. Hampton sighed in relief and
turned away.

"Get
ready. As soon as she's aboard, we sail."

Katherine
had leaped up in alarm when Peljo burst into the office. "What in the
world!"

"Ma'am,
he's hurt; the ensign's hurt. Down at the ship. Mr. MacPherson said to fetch
you and your medical kit. Right now."

"Of
course. Teddy, get the first-aid kit. It's in the third cabinet, bottom
shelf." She quickly wrapped her cloak around her, tied on her bonnet, and
grabbed her muff.

"What
happened?" Teddy asked excitedly, pulling out the metal box which housed
their bandages and ointments.

"Fight,"
Peljo said succinctly. "I'll take that, lad. The foreman says no one but
the miss here is to come."

"But
I wouldn't get in the way—" Teddy protested.

"You
certainly would," Katherine said briskly, already heading for the door.
"You stay right here. Come along, Peljo."

"Is
he seriously hurt?" she asked as they hurried toward the ship.

"Lots
of blood. I don't know how bad."

She
concentrated on trying to run, tightly corseted as she was and with her hoop
swaying wildly. She felt scared and, strangely enough, excited.

"He's
below deck, ma'am, in the captain's quarters," the little man panted as
they neared the gangplank.

She
swept up the plank, hardly glancing at the guards, and hastened across the deck
and down the steps to the captain's quarters. Flinging open the door, she
rushed inside. Just as her mind registered that there was no one there and then
that everyone on deck had looked somehow wrong—no chains—an arm encircled her
from behind and a hard hand was clamped across her mouth. Wildly she began to
struggle, but the arm was like a steel band pressing into her, and, already
short of breath from her run, she slumped into a faint. The room went suddenly
black and spinning, and when it finally righted itself, she found that her
hands were bound and tied to a small post in the center of the room. The dark
figure of Captain Hampton loomed above her. Taking a deep breath, she opened
her mouth to scream, only to have Hampton stuff a piece of cloth in her mouth
and quickly anchor it with a handkerchief bound around her head.

"I
was afraid you might try that," he said genially. "I can't stay to
talk to you now, but I promise to explain all this later. Soon we'll be out to
sea where you can scream to your heart's content, and I'll remove that gag. But
for now, you must be patient. Good-bye, my dear."

He
placed a light kiss on her forehead and left the room. She rested her head
against the post, trying to recover her breath and her scattered wits. What on
earth was happening? The men without chains ... the captain had spoken of the open
sea. . . . She could feel the ship begin to move. . . . They were setting sail,
and the only explanation could be that they were escaping! Escaping—and for
some reason taking her along with them.

Quietly,
easily, the fishing vessel slipped out of the harbor. The few who noticed the
ship presumed that it was being tested. As Hampton anticipated, the familiarity
of seeing prisoners aboard made their sailing the ship appear natural.
Moreover, the sight of blue-uniformed guards quelled any suspicions that might
have been aroused. Until out of sight of the harbor, Hampton gave every
indication of going south, but once concealed from view, the ship made a wide
sweep and sailed north. No one would expect them to go north, and so that gave
them a slight advantage.