The Bartered Bride (18 page)

"I saw on the chart that we're near a big island called Madagascar," Katie said. "Will we stop for fresh water and food?"

"No, Madagascar isn't safe for provisioning. Usually we stop at St. Helena, in the southern Atlantic. It would take longer, but we could stop in Cape Town instead. It has a lovely setting, as beautiful as Sydney." He glanced at, Alex. "Would you like to visit Cape Town, or would you prefer not to take the time?"

She hesitated. "I'd rather not. You have tea and spices to sell, and I'm longing to get back to England to see my family." Luckily, they hadn't known when she intended to return, so they wouldn't be worrying yet. She wanted to be home before they did.

"Captain! Look at the Dutchman!" A shout rose from Benjamin, who was officer of the watch. Alex looked also, and was surprised to see that square dark holes had appeared in a line below the gunwales. Surely not gun ports ...

Light flashed raggedly from the ports and smoke rolled out. As thunder boomed across the water, Gavin shouted, "Clear for action!" Moving with unbelievable speed, he scooped up Katie and grabbed Alex's arm to drag her to the nearby hatch. As he shoved her through and dropped after her, the Helena lurched under the impact of smashing cannonballs. Cracking, tearing sounds filled the air. Alex staggered and Gavin fell, protecting Katie from injury with his own body.

"Good God!" Alex gasped. Looking up through the hatch, she saw the top of the mizzenmast snap. Eerily slow, it fell toward the deck in a tangle of sails and cordage. "Why are they shooting?"

"That's no Dutch merchant," he said grimly. "You and Katie stay in the cabin until it's safe. Keep away from the stern windows."

She felt the blood drain from her face. "Pirates?"

"Of some sort." His gaze caught hers, his eyes flint-gray. "The Helena will not be taken, Alex. I swear it." Then he was gone.

Alex caught Katie's hand and they raced down the passage to the cabin as feet pounded above and behind them. Another volley of cannonballs struck, shaking the ship again, and this time there was a scream from a wounded man.

"Don't worry, Mama, everything will be all right," Katie said earnestly. "The captain says we won't be taken."

Alex was not so optimistic-she suspected that Gavin had meant that the Helena would fight to the death rather than surrender. That was not the same as saying that they'd come through this engagement safely. Glad Katie didn't realize that, she said calmly, "Whoever attacked us is in for a surprise. Suryo said the Helena has more and larger guns than most ships its size, and it's very fast, too. We'll be out of danger in no time."

She opened the cabin door and ushered her daughter through, wishing she believed her own optimism. From what Gavin had said, she guessed the attacker was a pirate using a captured European ship and flying the Dutch flag until it was within cannon range of prosperous merchant vessels. If the Helena tried to outrun the pirates, they'd have to come about, all the time under the guns of the other ship.

The pirates were trying to dismast the Helena so she could be boarded, since there was no point in sinking a ship with its cargo. But if the Helena looked as if she might escape-well, the pirates would probably rather sink a ship than let it survive to bear witness to their crimes. Cannon thundered, deafeningly close. Amazed, Alex realized that their own weapons were already firing back. She'd known that gun drills were held regularly, but that had seemed a matter of routine rather than because they might need to defend themselves from attack. In the Indies, pirate assaults usually involved stealth and hand-tohand fighting. Yet through all of these peaceful weeks, Gavin had kept his ship and men ready, just in case.

Acrid smoke began to seep into the room from the guns. As their cannon fired again, she embraced Katie protectively and sank to the floor against the interior bulkhead, guessing it was the safest place. Trying to keep her tone light, she said," You'll have no end of adventures to tell your cousins back in England. They'll be so impressed!"

Katie managed a smile, but she looked pale. "I'm glad the captain is in charge."

"So am I, darling. He's prepared for everything. That's why we were able to return fire so quickly." And he wouldn't be aiming for the rigging of the other ship-he could shoot to kill. Fiercely she hoped he'd succeed, and quickly.

Waiting seemed interminable as Alex cuddled Katie close and tried to keep fear at bay. Long, scarily quiet intervals were punctuated by horrendous noise and activity. Not knowing what was happening was the worst part.

Though she would prefer a fight to the death over captivity, how could she wish such a fate for her daughter? Yet if they were captured again, it was unlikely that Katie would fall into such kind hands as those in Sukau. The possibilities were so horrific that she forced herself to concentrate on the well-prepared crew and ship-and Gavin on the quarterdeck, in the line of fire. She hated being helpless.

A bang on the door was followed precipitously by Suryo. "Puan, do you know anything of medicine?

Men are injured and need care." Alex's fear cleared instantly. "Bring the wounded into steerage and I'll take care of them there."

As he swung out of the cabin, Alex rose and opened the cabinet that held the ship's medicine chest. On a merchant ship the captain usually acted as physician and surgeon, and Gavin was well supplied. Barely able to lift the chest, she grabbed the handle on one end and dragged it across the floor toward the door. "Katie, stay here. Don't for any reason go above deck unless the captain or I say it's all right." Following her down the passage, Katie said, "Let me help!"

For a moment Alex hesitated before remembering that she hadn't been much older when she'd helped her mother tend casualties from the Battle of Quartre-Bras as the soldiers staggered through the streets of Brussels. "Very well, but if it's too frightening or you feel ill, come back here. I don't want to have to worry about you."

Katie's jaw set pugnaciously. "I won't be scared." For an uncanny instant, Alex saw herself as a child. The nursing instinct ran strong in the women of her family.

They reached steerage and found two injured men already lying there. Alex opened the medicine chest and took swift inventory. Instruments, bandages, plasters, ointments, opium. "Katie, bring a pitcher of clear water and a glass. Offer water to the wounded men, then bring more for cleaning wounds." The nearest man, an American who usually had an infectious smile for Katie, lay beside a barrel of lemons carried to prevent scurvy. The bright citrus scent clashed with the metallic odor of the blood pouring from lacerations made by splintered timber. As she knelt beside him, he gasped, "I'm not so bad, ma'am. Take a look at Ollie there."

Seeing that his condition wasn't critical, she moved to the other man, a Cockney. His lower leg had been smashed by a cannonball and would need amputation later. But the bleeding must be stopped now, or he'd be dead in half an hour.

Calm descended over her as she remembered the field hospitals of the Peninsula, and the later years when she'd helped her mother nurse tenants on their estate. Alex was no surgeon, but she had plenty of nursing experience, wasn't afraid of blood, and had learned that common sense and basic care could do much to preserve life.

After applying a tourniquet to Ollie's shattered leg, she gave him a dose of opium and returned to the American, picking out jagged splinters and fabric scraps with painstaking care before cleaning and bandaging. When she was done, he lurched to his feet and limped off to rejoin his gun crew. She wanted to protest, but held her tongue. A merchant ship's crew was much smaller than that of a naval vessel. Every man was needed on the deck or at the guns.

Already two more walking wounded had appeared for a quick bandaging that would allow them to return to the battle raging overhead. Time blurred into cleaning wounds, pouring on raw whiskey, a favorite treatment of her mother's, and bandaging. Luckily few men were grievously wounded, but there were many lesser injuries. Katie worked silently beside her, offering water, bringing bandages and instruments, and functioning as an extra pair of hands as needed. What a wonder she was. Intent on her work, Alex blocked out smoke, fatigue, nausea, and painful cramping caused by kneeling for too long. She barely noticed when the guns stopped firing. Only that the stream of injured sailors slowed, and finally stopped.

She was bandaging her final patient when her shoulder was touched lightly. "Alex?" She tied off the bandage before glancing up at Gavin. Though weary and smudged, he was intact. Lightheaded with fatigue, she asked, "It's over?"

"The pirate ship sank. No survivors." His eyes were the icy gray of a winter sea. "Madagascar used to be a notorious nest of pirates. A mixed Asian and European crew apparently decided to revive the tradition with a captured ship."

She nodded, not surprised that enterprising pirates would try the rich shipping lanes between India and Europe. "May they all rot in hell."

"My sentiments exactly."

If Alex hadn't known Gavin, his expression would have frightened her. Reminded that weak men did not build merchant empires, she asked, "How much damage has the Helena suffered? " His expression eased. "We were lucky. Half the sails and lines must be replaced and two masts are damaged, but if we don't carry much sail in heavy weather, they'll make it to England." He scanned the steerage space, where four of the most severely injured men rested under the influence of opium. "No lives have been lost, either. I think two or three of the men would have died if you hadn't been able to treat their wounds quickly. Now ... well, at least they have a chance. You've done an amazing job-you and Katie both." His smile made Katie beam.

Infection was always a danger, but these were strong men. She had hopes they'd survive. "Ollie's lower leg will have to be amputated." Wearily she got to her feet. "I've never done one, but I've seen it done. I ... I'll do my best."

"You've done enough." He grimaced. "I've performed amputations a couple of times, so I'll do this one. They take a fair amount of brute strength, and you look done in. You've been working here for hours."

Now that her work was finished, she realized how weak and ill she felt. In fact, the cramping that had dogged her for hours was so acute that she pressed a hand to her belly to ease the pain. "I could use some rest."

She took a step, and found that her knees wouldn't support her. As she sagged to the floor, Gavin caught her. "You're bleeding!"

Just before she fainted, she saw the pool of blood on the floor.

She awoke slowly, rocked by the ship, feeling as gray and empty as an autumn husk. It was night, but a lamp burned somewhere to her left. Vaguely she recognized that she was in her own bed in the captain's cabin.

She turned her head a fraction to the left and found Gavin dozing in his heavy captain's chair a yard away, his face gray with exhaustion and his long legs stretched in front of him. She tried to speak but produced no sound. Moistening her lips, she managed a thin whisper. "Where is Katie?" His eyes opened. "Sleeping in my cabin. Suryo is with her in case she has bad dreams, but she's been a real trooper." He poured a glass of water and raised Alex's head from the pillows so she could drink.

"Thank you." She took small sips until the glass was half empty, then shook her head that she'd had enough. As Gavin lowered her to the bed, she whispered, "I lost the baby, didn't I?" He nodded. "Yes, along with a lot of blood. It's been over twentyfour hours since you collapsed."

"I suppose I should be glad, yet I feel so ... so empty." She closed her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to keep tears from running down her cheeks. "Was it possible to tell who fathered it?"

"No. It was too early."

"I killed it with my hatred. Dear God, when will it all end?" She began to sob helplessly. He took her hand, offering comfort through touch. "This wasn't truly a child, just the chance of a child. As ill as you've been, my guess is that you would have miscarried anyhow." After a heavy silence, he added, "Helena miscarried twice before she ... she carried a child to term." The child whose birth had killed Helena. Alex rolled over, pressing her cheek to his hand as she cried uncontrollably. She hated herself for her physical weakness, and for feeling both sorrow and relief at her body's loss. When she had no more tears left, she asked in a raw whisper, "What about you? You must be relieved that you won't have to raise a rapist's child."

"I don't know how I feel. This will be easier, yet I'm also ... disappointed. I kept hoping the child would be mine. And if not-well, every baby is a new hope. This one would have been our child no matter who the father was." His free hand stroked her back comfortingly. "The worst was the hours when I was terrified of losing you. But you survived, Alexandra. You must be the strongest woman on God's earth."

"The reason for our marriage is gone," she said, infinitely weary. "It's not a real marriage yet-maybe there's a way to end it."

"Alex, don't." His hand tightened on hers. "Marriage is more than intimate relations and the lost chance of a child. Our marriage is real. There's no turning back." She closed her eyes, shamed by the pain in his voice, too drained to talk rationally. She whispered,

"Will you lie down and hold me?"

He released his breath in a long sigh. "I'd like that."

She inched back to the bulkhead, leaving as much room as possible. He was already in shirtsleeves and stockinged feet, so he lay down on top of the covers, careful not to jar her. Though he took up far more space than Katie, his warmth and strength were soothing. Taking his hand, she rested her head against his shoulder, and once more slept.

Her sleep was haunted by dreams of a child with dark almond eyes. As awareness slowly returned the next morning, she recognized that Gavin was right-her chronic unwellness had probably been a sign that the pregnancy was doomed from the start.

Yet if that possible child had been strong and healthy enough to be born, she would have learned to love it, forgetting the pain of its conception. As Gavin had said, every baby was a new hope. Now that hope was gone. No wonder her body mourned.