Swept Away (51 page)

By late March of 1864, the morale of the crew of the
Southern Knight
was at an all-time high, and Raven was as eager as the rest of them to continue their destruction of United States shipping. President Lincoln had promoted Ulysses S. Grant to the rank of lieutenant general and given him command of all the Union armies, but the men on board the
Southern Knight
neither knew, nor cared.

When they sighted a schooner flying the Stars and Stripes off the New Jersey coast, Raven announced that he intended to be among the boarding party. “But how can you?” Michael argued. “Captain Sinclair’s uniforms fit you well enough, but as soon as you open your mouth, they’ll know you’re British.”

Raven regarded his executive officer with a slow smile. “On the contrary, they will believe me to be Captain Nathan Sinclair,” he responded in a perfect imitation of the Virginian’s gentlemanly drawl. “I meant what I said my first day as captain of the
Southern Knight.
I’m taking Nathan’s place, and even in the unlikely event that we’re all taken prisoner, no one will ever learn I’m not he.”

Michael shrugged helplessly. “You sound just like him.”

Not needing the lieutenant’s approval, Raven turned back to observe the schooner. He had announced to the crew that he would not sink any ships nor take prisoners, but that he had come up with an idea he thought would be equally effective in discouraging the merchant trade. Predictably, the schooner surrendered without putting up any resistance and Raven went on board as planned.

“This is a fine ship,” he complimented the captain in the dulcet tones of a Southerner. “I’m going to give you a choice. We’ll take you and your crew prisoner and scuttle her, or if you give me your solemn promise you’ll not sail her again until the War’s end, you may dump your cargo overboard and return to port.”

Astonished the captain of a Confederate raider had offered him a way to save his ship, the captain of the schooner had the hold emptied within an hour. Raven stepped close and lowered his voice to a threatening whisper before bidding the grateful man farewell. “This is a favor I’ll not repeat,” he warned. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, that I do.”

Raven stared at the now quivering man, certain his imagination was providing far worse punishments than he would ever inflict. He was confident that the fact the ship had lost what was undoubtedly a valuable cargo would be enough to discourage the owners from attempting another voyage to Europe anytime soon. With one last evil grin, he and his boarding party returned to the
Southern Knight,
where they were heartily cheered.

The next day they repeated their success by capturing a bark in the morning and a brig in the afternoon. By the time a dozen ships had been forced to dispose of their cargoes and return to port, Raven decided they had pushed their luck far enough. Certain the Union must already have warships out searching for them, he had no intention of allowing the
Southern Knight
to be found, and he set a course toward Virginia, where they were to receive their new orders.

Shortly before dawn on the appointed day, a sloop appeared out of the mist and Raven waited at the rail as a messenger came aboard the
Southern Knight.
He did not like bringing the ship so close to shore and had no intention of extending their stay beyond the few minutes it would require to read and acknowledge the receipt of whatever the new mission might be. When the cloaked messenger came toward him, then drew back, he greeted him impatiently.

“I’m Captain Sinclair. If you have papers to give me, then hurry up about it.”

While Sarah could make out the silhouette of a man of Nathan’s height, the timber of his voice wasn’t right and she wasn’t fooled. “You are most certainly not my husband, and I’ll speak with no one else.”

Raven stepped forward then, and dropped the Southern accent. “Sarah? Is that you?”

Sarah could see him clearly then, but that a total stranger knew her name frightened her, and thinking she had stumbled into a trap of some kind, she turned to flee. When she slammed into Michael Devane, who had stepped up behind her, she cried out and then, recognizing him, demanded an explanation.

Michael looked to Raven. “I didn’t know it would be her. I swear I didn’t.” “What’s going on?” Sarah asked again. “Where’s my husband?”

Raven took the precaution of searching the mists for signs of another ship and, seeing none, gave Michael a terse order. “I’ll need no more than five minutes with Mrs. Sinclair. Tell Mr. Owen to be ready to give us all the speed he can when I give the order.” Raven reached out for Sarah’s arm then and hurried her back to his cabin.

Raven scarcely knew where to begin but decided he should attend to business first. “You do have the new orders, don’t you? I think I should read them first”

“Well I don’t, not until you tell me just who you are and where Nathan is.”

Raven inclined his head in a mock bow. Sarah had thrown back the hood of her cloak and he found her resemblance to her daughter striking. Not only were their features nearly identical, but Sarah also had the same honey blond hair. Her eyes were different, though. They were a cool, bright green rather than golden-brown.

“If you insist. I’m Raven Blade, your son-in-law. Your husband is recuperating from an injury he sustained last month. Both he and Eden are at my plantation on Jamaica.”

Sickened by that distressing news, Sarah sank into the closest chair. “How badly was he hurt?”

“He should be completely recovered in just a few weeks.” Raven could readily understand Sarah’s concern for her husband, but that she seemed not to care that he was Eden’s husband both confused and hurt him. She was holding a leather pouch, and assuming it contained his orders, he reached for it. “May I?”

“Yes, of course.”

Raven found an unmarked envelope inside. He tore it open and scanned the contents. The
Southern Knight
was to proceed at once to California and continue their mission of disrupting shipping on the Pacific Coast. That was most definitely not a voyage he would undertake in Nathan’s place and he shoved the brief message in his pocket.

“We’ve got to be under way before sunrise. Come on. You’ll have to leave.”

Sarah looked up at the dark-eyed young man. Other than her own dear Nathan, he was easily the handsomest man she had ever met. “You’ll be returning to Jamaica soon, won’t you? I want to go with you.”

Before Raven could reply, Michael came to the door. “There’s a ship approaching and I have little hope it’s one of ours. You’ll have to leave now,” he urged Sarah.

“Oh no, I’m going to stay,” the determined woman replied.

“That’s not a good idea,” Raven declared, and again taking his mother-in-law’s arm, he escorted her up on deck. The mist now only partially hid their identity. They could make out a steamship approaching and knew they had been seen. Before he could stop her, Sarah waved to the men in the sloop and they pulled away, heading for shore without her.

The steamer hailed them then. “What steamer is that?”

“I want full speed now,” Raven ordered, and as Michael conveyed that message to the engineer, he responded to the call to identify the ship himself.

“This is Her Majesty’s ship
Princess Royal.
What steamer is that?”

“The Sarah asked in a hushed whisper.
Princess Royal?
”

“A Raven responded with a sly wink.
ruse de guerre,
”

“This is the United States steamer” The name was lost when the engines of the
Southern Knight
came to life and the whole ship shuddered as the twin propellers began to turn. Raven then sent men into the rigging to unfurl the sails to give them additional speed. The Union ship overtook them, however, before the
Southern Knight
could gain sufficient speed to draw away.

Raven had been hoping to avoid firing on a Union vessel, but now he had absolutely no choice and they managed to get off the first round of cannon fire. The volley hit the steamer broadside and echoed with a hollow ring that loudly proclaimed the ship was built of iron. He had no time to argue with Sarah as a hail of rifle fire came their way, but she did not need to be told to get below deck and ran back to his cabin of her own accord.

Raven knew none of the crew would accuse him of cowardice for attempting to outrun a heavily armed iron ship rather than coming about to fight. Luck was with them, and as they gathered speed, the mist thickened into a blanket of fog that veiled their retreat. The Union vessel doggedly pursued them but the Confederate raider had been built for speed and the Yankees had no opportunity to use their cannon. With Raven changing their course repeatedly, they soon escaped unscathed into the open sea.

After ascertaining there had been no wounded, Raven congratulated his crew for their fine work. He then wiped his brow on his sleeve and returned to his cabin. As he came through the door, Sarah looked up at him, her glance filled with the curiosity he had expected her to show earlier.

“As I said, I’m Eden’s husband and I think it’s a good thing we’re bound for Jamaica as it may take me until we get there to tell you our story.”

Sarah sighed with relief. “I really didn’t plan this. I had hoped only to see Nathan for a few minutes. That was all.”

Raven nodded, then began to search his mind for a way to begin. Because he had already decided to tell Eden the truth, he thought for once he ought to use it. After all, he could certainly use the practice.

Chapter Twenty-Five

April 1864

Rebecca admired Eden greatly and had eagerly accepted her invitation to talk with her each evening before she went to bed. Perched on the edge of the blonde’s four-poster, she found it easy to converse about subjects she dared not broach with her brother.

“You and Raven seem to be very happy together,” she began shyly.

“We have had our problems, as I’m sure all couples do.” Eden had not had such an opportunity in their previous discussions, but seized it now. “Have you ever considered marrying again?”

Rebecca’s cheeks filled with a bright blush. “Oh no, one marriage was more than enough for me.”

“You weren’t happy?”

“Raymond was a wonderful man, but, well, there were certain aspects of marriage to which I just didn’t seem suited.”

“You didn’t enjoy keeping house?” Eden teased.

“No, it wasn’t that,” Rebecca admitted, but she knew Eden had not been serious. Certain her confidence would be respected, she asked the question that troubled her most. “Raven is such a handsome man, but despite that, don’t you find marital relationships rather distasteful?”

Eden did not think she dared admit just how greatly she enjoyed making love. “In what way?” she asked instead.

“Well, I know all men enjoy it, but how can a woman feel anything but humiliated to be used in that way?”

“Raymond did not hold you, kiss you, make you feel as though you were being loved rather than used?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I think he sensed I didn’t like his attentions, and just got them over with as quickly as possible.”

For a moment, Eden considered what that must have been like, then reached out to touch Rebecca’s hand with a fond caress. “It’s unfortunate that Raymond didn’t know how to please you, but I think you ought to give another man the opportunity to try. All of our patients like you. Is there one of them you consider special?”

Rebecca tried to hide her smile, but failed. “They are all sweet boys, but Dr. Endecott is the only man I’ve met since Raymond’s death who, well, who seems to share my interests.”

“He’s very nice, isn’t he?” Eden paused to cover a wide yawn. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk about him again tomorrow night, shall we?”

“I didn’t mean to tire you.” Rebecca rose to her feet, then turned as she heard the door open.

Yadira entered the room carrying a cup of warm milk for Eden. “You know Dr. Ryan wants you to be asleep long before this, my lady.”

The housekeeper had been wonderfully considerate of late, but Eden still felt uncomfortable around her. Each night Yadira brought warm milk, and knowing it would be good for the baby, Eden always drank it without argument. “We had just said good night,” she explained as she took the cup.

“Good. I left some warm milk in your room too, Mrs. Yardley,” Yadira explained as she walked Rebecca to the door. “You’ll feel far more rested in the morning if you drink it.”

“Why thank you, Yadira. That’s very sweet of you.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Eden bid them good night as they left her room, then began to drink her milk. After several sips, she noticed it had a peculiar taste, but thinking Yadira had added an herb or spice flavoring, she took several more mouthfuls before deciding she did not want any more. She set the half-empty cup aside and settled down among her pillows. It was not all that easy to get comfortable, but curled up on her side, she usually did not have too much difficulty falling asleep. When Yadira came into her room half an hour later, she stirred lazily before opening her eyes.

“You didn’t drink all your milk,” the housekeeper scolded gently. “You must finish it now.”

“No thank you. Did you put something in it tonight? It didn’t taste as good as it usually does.”