Smuggler's Kiss (2 page)

‘I nearly drowned!’ I told him indignantly, my voice hoarse. ‘I can’t help it.’

Speaking made me cough again, a hacking, gagging fit. The man grabbed me and clamped his hand over my mouth. I thought I was going to suffocate and squeaked my protest.

‘Stow it or we’ll ’ave to knock you on the ’ead,’ he ordered fiercely.

I tugged uselessly at his hand, but made no more noise, drawing the air I desperately needed through my nose only. I was angry and confused. What was a rowing boat doing out in the bay after dark? And what on earth did it matter what noise I made out here?

The rowing boat bobbed up and down in the swell while the wind chilled my wet garments. None of the men in the boat were actually rowing, just sitting quite still, oars at the ready. All had the same blackened faces. They seemed to be waiting for something. It was very strange. I wondered if perhaps they were fishing, and this was how it was done. How would I know?

One of the men gave a hand signal; the others went to work with the oars. The small boat stopped bobbing idly and shot forward. We headed along the coast, the swell making me giddy as it pitched us about. We reached the furthest end of the beach as far as I could make out. Dark cliffs were looming over us. We turned about and headed straight for the shore. A breaker picked us up and shot us forward in a roar of foam and spray. I moaned with fear. The hand, which had relaxed a little, tightened over my mouth again.

Then the water dropped away beneath us and we crunched onto the shingle. Three men leapt out and heaved the boat out of the churning waves.

Everyone looked around, staring blindly into the darkness. I could feel the tension in the man who was holding me. At last there was a slight movement in the shadows. One of the men growled: ‘Cousin Jacky’s arrived.’

‘He’s hearty welcome,’ was the response, and a dark-lantern was unshuttered to our right. A collective sigh of relief rose up. I was abruptly released and collapsed in a heap in the bottom of the boat, breathing heavily. I thought about climbing out of the boat and running away, but when I tried to get up, I found my legs were completely tangled up in the heavy, soaking layers of my petticoats. I couldn’t move.

By the light of the single lantern, the men in the boat shipped their oars and started hauling heavy, roped barrels out of the boat and passing them to the men ashore. It was all done with practised speed, efficiency, and almost no speech.

‘More boatloads on the way, but the Philistines is lurkin’,’ growled the man who’d been holding me.

‘We’ll give ’em a little distraction,’ responded a man on shore, barrels slung over his shoulder. ‘Over beyond the door. Make ’em think we’ve warned you off. Meanwhile we’ll get clear by way of Scratchy Bottom.’ Their words meant nothing to me. They might as well have been speaking Latin. ‘What you got there?’ he asked, pointing to me. ‘Mermaid?’

‘Maybe,’ said the man who’d been holding on to me. ‘Jacob just fished her out the sea. Can we leave her with you?’

The man looked appalled. ‘We can’t have no dainty wench screeching and holding us up!’ he whispered fiercely. ‘The place is crawling with Philistines!’

‘You deal with her,’ said another man on the shore in a hoarse whisper.

Then men were all around the boat, pushing her out into the waves once more. She lifted, climbing the crest of a wave and dropping down the far side of it. The wind was bitterly cold. I started to shiver uncontrollably in the bottom of the boat as the men pulled on the oars. Water slopped about, drenching me each time the boat tilted. If I’d expected any sympathy, I’d have been disappointed. None of them so much as spared me a glance.

Facing the stern of the boat, my eyes adjusted gradually. I watched the shore draw steadily further away. Across to my right, high up, I saw golden flames shoot up suddenly, licking the darkness. Somewhere below the fire, a shot was fired and voices came faintly to us.

‘That’s the decoy,’ called a man in the prow. ‘Signal the other boats they’re safe to go ashore.’

I turned and watched as another man lifted a lantern aloft and sent a beam of light out to sea. Once, twice, thrice it flashed and then he covered it again. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘You’ll see soon enough.’

I pulled my knees in to my body and wrapped my dripping arms around them, in a vain attempt to stop the violent shudders of cold that were passing through me. It crossed my mind that I had indeed drowned in the sea, and was now being ferried to hell for my crime. But I soon dismissed this. I was bitterly, bone-chillingly cold, and ravenously hungry besides. My throat was raw with coughing. I was certain that a dead person would feel none of these things.

Other rowing boats passed us silently in the darkness. At last a dark shape loomed above us, and the men shipped their oars, fending off against the towering side of a wooden ship. Above me in the gloom I could make out the white lettering that bore the name of the ship:
The Invisible
. It sounded like a ghost ship. I shivered.

A rope was thrown down to us and made fast. A barrel was lowered from above. ‘Hold hard!’ my captor called up. ‘A mermaid to come aboard!’ The men around me guffawed. I bit my lip. As far as I was concerned, I was in the middle of a tragedy and all they could do was laugh.

Faces were hanging over the side of the ship now, staring down at me through the darkness. A rope ladder unravelled, and was caught deftly by one of the men in the boat.

‘Up you go,’ said the captor. I stared at it. The ladder dangled precariously, swaying to and fro against the slimy side of the great wooden ship. It was a very long way to the top.

‘I can’t!’ I objected. My voice shook. ‘I can’t climb up that thing!’ I was out on the sea in the dark, surrounded by rough men. I ought to have been terrified. But the whole scene seemed unreal; dreamlike.

‘Course she can’t climb it,’ said my captor, slapping his forehead and pulling a face. ‘Mermaids ain’t got no legs, ’ave they, lads?’

There was more muffled laughter. Another head leaned over the rail far above us. ‘What’s this racket?’ he demanded in a low voice that was vibrant with anger. ‘Haven’t we got the Preventers after us? You should be keeping silence.’

The largest man in the boat stood up, broad shouldered and bearded, swaying easily with the rocking motion of the boat and said quietly: ‘Pass her here then. I’ll take her up.’

‘No, please, I … ‘ I began. The fear I should have felt before rushed over me now as I was picked up, tipped upside down, and slung over the giant’s shoulders. I shrieked with terror as he swung himself onto the bottom rung of the ladder.

Someone grabbed my hair and twisted it. ‘Silence from you!’ he hissed in my ear. ‘Or you get knocked on the head and dropped back in the sea. And don’t think I don’t mean it!’

‘ ’Old on, pretty mermaid,’ added the man who was carrying me. ‘Me hands’ll be on the ladder, so it’s up to you to cling fast.’

And then he swung himself up and out of the boat, climbing with astonishing agility up the swaying ladder. I clutched at his coat with the last of my strength, terrified he would drop me.

I was dumped unceremoniously on the wooden deck and crouched there, terrified. Three pairs of eyes were watching me, while the other men lowered cargo down to the rowing boat. The giant of a man who had carried me up the ladder was still looking at me, stroking his beard thoughtfully, as was the fierce-eyed man who had hushed us from the ship’s rail. Besides those two, a much younger man, scarcely more than a youth, was regarding me suspiciously. He was smaller and slighter than the other two. For a moment, I thought he was a gentleman. He was dressed like one, in breeches, a white shirt, and a waistcoat. However, as he turned away briefly to check on the men lowering the barrels, I saw I must be mistaken. He wore his own fair hair caught back in a ponytail in the nape of his neck. No gentleman would be seen in public without a wig.

‘What’s this then, Jacob?’ barked the man in charge, his voice as fierce as his eyes.

‘A mermaid, we reckon, skipper,’ responded the giant. ‘We found her in the surf. Me and Kit hauled her out.’

‘More fools you,’ snapped the skipper. ‘You should have left well alone. She’ll bring trouble on us.’

‘But she were drownin’, skipper,’ objected Jacob. ‘We couldn’t leave ’er.’

‘She can’t be a mermaid then, can she?’ The fair young man had a cultured voice, quite different to the others around him, which confirmed my first impression of him. ‘Mermaids don’t drown.’

‘I don’t have time for this nonsense,’ cried the skipper. ‘You take charge of her, Jacob, or she’ll have to go back over the side. You’ve five minutes then I need you back to work.’ He turned abruptly away and joined the men at the rail.

I turned my eyes apprehensively on the man called Jacob, my heart hammering in my chest. ‘Please,’ I whispered, my voice shaking. ‘Don’t … ’

The giant chuckled, a rich, reassuring sound. ‘Don’t you worry. Come along of me now!’

He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. I tried to follow him across the rocking deck. After only a few unsteady steps, my chilled, shaking legs tangled in wet fabric and gave way under me. Seeing this, Jacob scooped me up in his arms and carried me in through a doorway into a tiny cabin. It was lit only by an oil lamp, burning faintly, suspended from the ceiling. He pushed the door shut behind us, and abruptly the noise of the wind and waves vanished. My ragged breathing sounded harsh and loud in the comparative silence. The only other sound was the soft creaking of timbers around us as the ship rolled in the swell.

‘You need to get out of them wet clothes afore you gets sick,’ said Jacob, lowering me onto the floor, his voice startlingly loud in the confined space. A new danger reared its ugly head. I backed away into the wall, still shivering violently, wrapping my arms tightly about me.

Jacob chuckled again, and stepped past me. ‘Don’t take that the wrong way,’ he said. ‘You’re safe with me.’ He pulled a rough wooden chest out from under the bottom bunk, opened it up and started rummaging through it. ‘We’ve got no ladies’ togs aboard, o’ course,’ he muttered, pulling various items from the sea chest. ‘I reckon this’ll have to do. Here you are!’ He held out a pile of clothing to me. When I didn’t take it, he put it on the floor next to me. ‘Get dry,’ he ordered me. ‘Get wrapped up and warm. I got to go now, but I’ll be back.’

He left the cabin, letting in a blast of wind and noise. I shuddered again. I was so cold. I reached out one shaking hand and touched the bunk next to me. The wood felt solid enough. So did the walls and the wooden lid of the chest too. I rested my fingertips on the garments Jacob had left for me. They were coarse and yielding to the touch.

I wasn’t in a dream then. Nor did this seem to be a ghost ship. Everything was too substantial. Shudders of cold racked me again and I twisted round, trying to reach the hooks on the back of my gown.

I don’t know how much later it was that a sharp rap sounded on the cabin door. When I made no reply, the door opened and the fair young man blew in from the deck, letting the door bang shut behind him. He stood and stared down at me.

‘What the devil are you doing lying on the floor and still in that wet gown?’ he demanded.

I tried to speak, but the lassitude that had stolen over me was too strong. I’d stopped shivering and got warm at last. What was this young man doing disturbing me? I just lay there, letting my eyes sink shut again.

Footsteps made their way to me. I forced my heavy eyelids open again when I felt my hand taken. The young man was on one knee beside me, a frown on his face. ‘You stupid girl, you’re half frozen! Do you
want
to die of an inflammation of the lung?’

I tried to tell him that I didn’t care; I just wanted to be left in peace. All that came out of my mouth was a sleepy mumble. To my annoyance, he took hold of my arm and began rubbing it briskly. I tried to ignore him, and recapture the stillness. ‘Rouse yourself, girl!’ he ordered me loudly, shaking me. ‘You’ll die if you lie here like this!’

‘Warm … now … ’ I mumbled.

‘You’re no such thing! That’s death speaking. Your lips are blue!’

Hadn’t I been
trying
to die earlier? I could barely remember any more. I couldn’t think what I wanted. But not this dreadful, painful awakening. Anything but this.

The young man pulled me upright, shook me and chafed at my hands. They tingled and burned unpleasantly, waking me up thoroughly. I began to cry, softly at first and then noisily, as a sense of unfairness and of misery swept over me. I was shivering and cold again.

‘For pity’s sake, stop crying! Why didn’t you get out of these wet clothes as Gentle Jacob told you?’ demanded the sharp, insistent voice.

‘I can’t … reach the … hooks,’ I managed to reply, my voice slurred.

‘Don’t be so stupid! How do you usually undress?’ he demanded, his voice impatient.

‘I
don’t
!’ I cried; properly, uncomfortably awake now, my indignation as great as his. My hands and feet were burning. ‘My
maid
undresses me … of course!’