Souls Aflame (15 page)

She held out her hand, and he took it without hesitation, grinning broadly. Then he said he’d go and awaken her mother. Julie was glad to leave that task to him.

A few moments later, hair falling loosely about her shoulders, her mother hurried into the cabin, wrapping a pink satin robe about herself. Mammy Sara was right behind her, looking very frightened.

“Tell me what this is all about,” her mother commanded, sinking into a chair as Lyman took his position next to the door.

Julie told her as briefly as possible, and Mammy Sara rolled her eyes and kept saying, “Oh, Lawdy…Oh, Lawdy…” over and over.

“I don’t believe it.” Her mother pushed her hair back from her face with trembling fingers. “You helped rescue the captain…there’s going to be another fight. I wish now we had just stayed in Rose Hill and let the damn cotton rot! We may all die now!”

Julie stared at her in wonder. She had never heard her mother curse before.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” Mrs. Marshal said quickly. “It’s just that this trip has become such an ordeal. I wish we could turn around and go home. Virgil would understand.”

“Ma’am, don’t you fret,” Lyman spoke up confidently, and they all turned to look at him. “The captain is a smart man, and brave too. He’ll save us and the ship. You’ll see. All we gotta do is sit tight. I’m going to block the door, shove the desk in front of it, and I’ll do my best to keep all of you safe.”

“I wonder how long we’ll have to wait,” her mother murmured as they watched Lyman position the desk. “I suppose I should have dressed—”

“It’s all right.” Julie forced a tight smile, wondering how it could matter what they were wearing. Despite Lyman’s faith in Derek, in reality they could all be dead by morning. There were many Yankees, but only a few of Derek’s followers. He’d lost many to Harky.

Her mother perched on the edge of the bed and began to rock to and fro, hands locked about her knees. “We’ll think of pleasant things, not about what is happening above us. We’ll think of how soon we’ll be in Bermuda, then on a nice ship bound for England. And when we get there, Virgil will be waiting, and you’ll have a beautiful wedding. Then the war will end, and we’ll all come back to Rose Hill, and Myles will come home too, and…”

On and on she went, and Julie fought the impulse to scream. If it made her mother feel better to ramble that way, then so be it, but she would have preferred to just sit in silence and pray for safe delivery from their present peril.

“Did you hear me, dear?”

Julie’s head snapped up. She’d been lost in thought, thinking about Derek, about the way her body betrayed her whenever he was near.

“No, Mother. What did you say?”

“I know you’re going to be happy as Virgil’s wife, even though you might not think so.”

“I suppose,” Julie commented absently, not wanting to discuss it. Once the decision had been made, she’d found she did not want to talk about it. It was going to happen, and that was the way it was. There was no need to dwell upon it.

“Are you sure you aren’t marrying him solely because you know he can save Rose Hill and make it possible for Myles to come home?” her mother persisted.

Without realizing it, Julie looked Sara in the eye, and saw the old Negress give her a piercing glare. This she found surprising, and it was with a feeling of guilt that she lied to her mother when she answered, “I—I think I’ll be happy with Virgil. We can have a good marriage.”

“But do you love him?”

Again Julie locked eyes with Sara, who pursed her lips and frowned.

“I suppose.” The words almost choked her.

It was a lie. She knew it and Sara knew it.

Time dragged by slowly. Lyman extinguished the lantern, saying he was sure that the captain would want the ship in total darkness. So they waited, with only the sound of their harsh, anxious breathing to break the tense silence in the inky blackness that surrounded them.

The cracking sound of a shot split the stillness, then another followed. Julie’s mother screamed, covering her ears as Lyman hissed for her to be quiet. Julie crouched down beneath the porthole, covering her own ears against the sudden rain of gunfire all about them. Men were shouting, cursing, feet pounding on the deck above as they ran. The ship quivered and shook.

Julie felt a movement. Something hard and cold was being pressed into her hand.

“If I’m killed, use this.” Lyman’s voice cracked as he handed her the knife. “Defend yourself as best you can. God be with you.”

He was afraid. For all his brave talk about duty and dying, if need be, in following his captain’s orders, the boy was scared, Julie knew. And in between the shouting and screaming and shooting, she could hear her mother crying.

How ironic,
she thought, dazed,
that at such a time, I am the only one in control.
But then she allowed as to how she was probably only in a state of shock, for she could feel her body tremble, knew that deep inside she was terrified…for at any moment, death could come.

And then silence fell.

For a long time, no one spoke, then Lyman said tersely, “We’ll know soon. Someone will come down here. Pray it’s the captain.”

The captain! Julie felt a hot flush surge through her body. That taunting smile on those handsome lips, the way his strong hands could perform magic upon her body—she had never known anyone like him. And she hoped she never encountered such a perplexing personage again. He had a mystifying hold on her; this she could not deny. Her body, her will, combined to betray her in his arms. And even if he did not possess such powerful, feral strength, he had other ways of making her helpless, she knew.

Suddenly the sound of hard sure footsteps descending the steps made everyone turn fearful, anxious eyes toward the door. Her mother’s fingertips went to her trembling lips as Lyman raised his musket, pointed, aimed, ready in the first rosy hues of dawn that streamed through the porthole.

Julie could only hold her breath, hands clenched tightly together. She could hear Sara murmuring a barely audible prayer.

“Let me in, Anastor. It’s over!”

“Praise God!” Sara screamed.

Julie let her breath out, swaying slightly as Lyman laid his musket aside to hurriedly shove the desk from the door.

Derek’s huge frame seemed to fill the open doorway, and he stood with legs apart, a triumphant grin on his sweaty, grimy face. “We took them,” he said quietly, his eyes searching for Julie.

He opened his titan arms, exposing his bare, rock-ribbed chest. So relieved was she that the Yankees had been defeated, Julie forgot everything and everyone and flung herself against him, sobbing with relief as he folded her tightly in his embrace. Instantly she was washed over with waves of emotion, knowing that as long as he held her, she was safe from any harm.

He rubbed his hands up and down her back comfortingly, affectionately, as he attempted to answer Lyman’s anxious questions. “We lost a lot of good men,” he said reverently, quietly. “We took them by surprise, but they were a large number. If we hadn’t had the advantage of catching them off guard, I’m sure the story would have had a different ending.”

Pressing his lips against Julie’s forehead, he whispered, “Are you sure you aren’t disappointed that it wasn’t Captain Guthrie at your door?”

“Derek, how dare you…” She jerked away from him, hating herself for losing control, as she always did in his arms. Then she saw it—the angry, bleeding slash across his chest. “My God, you’re hurt!” she cried.

“It’s not deep. Just a scratch. I’ll have Jenkins take a look at it later.” He turned to Lyman. “We slipped on board their ship and sabotaged their guns just as Harky’s friends did ours. We had most of their men overpowered before an alarm was sounded.”

“Captain Arnhardt…”

They all turned to see Julie’s mother getting shakily to her feet. “Please spare us the gory details. Now that the battle is over and you’ve won, what we’re interested in hearing is how long it will be before we can be on our way to Bermuda.”

“We won’t be putting into port at Bermuda,” he replied matter-of-factly. “You see, word spreads, even at sea. The Yankees are going to be looking for us, because we
are
blockade runners. So now we’ve no choice but to turn back and head for port in Wilmington. I can get through there, and we can dock for awhile till things cool down. Then I’ll decide which course the
Ariane
will take.”

It took a moment for his words to register, and then Mrs. Marshal gasped, “Are you mad, sir? You were paid to deliver us and our cargo to Bermuda. We can’t turn back. My daughter is to be married, and—”

“That’s the way it’s going to be,” he snapped, rubbing at his wound with the back of his hand, smearing the blood as he winced with pain. “I’m the captain. I make the decisions. We’ll sink the Federal ship, set the survivors adrift, then turn and head north at once.” He told Lyman to go topside, as there was much work to be done.

Derek kissed Julie’s cheek and turned to go, but her mother had a conniption. “Will you stop trifling with my daughter? I will ask you to respect her state of betrothment. She belongs to another.”

He released her at once, stunned by the woman’s outburst.

“I’ll pay you anything you ask,” she went on in a rush. “Anything! Do you understand? I’ll divide the profit from the sale of my cotton. I’ll give you anything you want, but you must take us on to Bermuda.”

“Are you insane?” He was bewildered. “I’d be captured and hung. The Yankees would consider me a pirate now. I have to go into hiding for awhile. There’ll be a price on my head. In Wilmington I’ll be safe till I get both my crew and ship ready to sail once again.”

“Virgil will be worrying himself sick.” Mrs. Marshal turned to Julie. “We have to go on to Bermuda.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she wrung her hands in despair. Mammy Sara stepped forward and placed a plump arm protectively around her shoulders.

Julie bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to go to Wilmington. And she didn’t want to return to Rose Hill. Not now, with Savannah blockaded soundly by the Yankees. To continue on to England would mean a reprieve from the ravages of war. She would worry over Myles, but for the moment, she could do nothing to help him, and he would want her safely away from the conflict and strife.

“Take Mrs. Marshal to her cabin,” Derek was saying to Sara. “It’s been a trying night for all of us. I’ll send in some brandy.”

“You just don’t understand,” the woman sobbed as she was led away. “We have to go on…”

When they were alone, Derek turned to Julie, his eyes devouring her. “I think I should save you from yourself,” he murmured.

Shaking her head, she replied, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Roughly he yanked her against him once more, smearing her with his blood but not caring. “You don’t love Virgil Oates, and you know it. And I’ve told you he’s an impostor. You’re a fool if you think he’s got wealth and power. He’s marrying you for what he thinks
you’ve
got, in addition to your beauty. I damn well can’t fault him on
that
point.”

She managed to speak over the tremulous pounding of her heart. “That is no concern of yours. What we had…did…was wrong. We must forget it ever happened.”

“We can’t, and we won’t.” His laugh was short, bitter. Then he gave her a gentle shake and commanded, “Tell me the real reason you promised to marry him. You bared your body to me. Now bare your soul.”

She could only look at him, helpless.

“You can’t tell me you love him.”

She was weary from the agony of sleepless nights. Now her brain was trying to whirl, function, but she felt only exhaustion. “Please, I don’t feel like discussing this. I just want to go on with my life.”

He went on as though she had not spoken. “I know you don’t love him, and I know why you’re marrying him. You’re trying to make up to your mother for the way your father betrayed her with his sister-in-law. You told me all about it in your feverish ramblings, Julie. But you must understand that it’s not your place to do this.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gasped.

He nodded grimly. “Oh, yes, I do. You’ve got this fierce, insane devotion to your mother because you feel guilty carrying the secret about your father’s adultery. You’re feeling the shame that was buried with him. That’s crazy. It isn’t your place to make anything up to your mother.

“And,” he went on, eyes blazing like the morning sun streaming through the round window, “you’ve got this equally insane loyalty to your brother, and you don’t realize that it’s based on guilt. In this case, your own. You blame yourself for his being forced to run away. You were the one attacked by those men, and he was avenging your honor.”

She tried to protest, but he would not allow her time to speak as he continued his tirade. “I’ll tell you something else too. You think that marriage to Virgil Oates will ensure a trade relationship with buyers in Europe. You think all your problems will be solved. But you’re wrong. They’re just beginning. He can’t work miracles.”

“I’m not going to stand here and listen to this.” She tried to pull away, but he continued to hold her tightly.

“You
are
going to listen, dammit. It’s time you faced reality. You’re throwing your life away for your mother, your brother, and your goddamn precious land.” Then he flung her away from him, and she fell upon the bed.