Chapter Twelve

“It was nice of you to hire a buggy to take me for a ride.” Destiny tried to sound enthusiastic. Inside, she was dying by slow, painful inches. She’d agreed to this outing for one reason, to tell Nathan her heart belonged to another.

The day after the picnic, James had called on her. He’d humbly apologized and explained his business trip to Tampa had been postponed. His mother had already committed their family to accompanying the Browns to the picnic. He claimed there had been no way he could get out of it.

She had accepted his apology but on one condition; she wanted to be presented to his family. He’d agreed to do so, but unfortunately, his parents had left for Tampa for the delayed business trip and to visit friends. When they returned, he promised to present her to them. In the meantime, he’d invited her to a dinner party at the home of his married sister, Jennifer Shaw.

Once James had promised to introduce her to his family, she’d made up her mind. She couldn’t keep Nathan dangling. After all, the man wanted to marry her. The sooner she told him, the sooner he would forget her and find another.

But when she thought about not seeing Nathan again, she experienced a sharp pain in the general region of her heart. She liked and admired him a great deal. He’d been a good friend and loyal champion. She would miss seeing him, miss talking with him. She blushed to think about it, but she would miss his kisses as well.

Nathan smiled at her and snapped the reins, urging the matched bays forward. “I have another surprise for you; I’m taking you to see my ship, the Columbia. She’s in port being refitted, and the crew has shore leave. This is a perfect time for you to look around.” He cleared his throat. “Without prying eyes watching.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” She wanted to seem enthusiastic, but she didn’t know how long she could keep up the charade.

When would be the best time to tell him? Not yet. She knew how much his ship meant to him. The least she could do was let him show her his ship. And she didn’t want to tell him on the Columbia, either. It might jinx his ship. Having been raised by a seafaring family, she knew how superstitious sailors could be.

When then? She couldn’t put it off forever, though her cowardly inclinations urged her to do so. Sighing, she decided to tell him when he brought her home.

“I can’t wait to show you my ship, but we’ll have our buggy ride first. It would be a waste if we just drove to the wharf and back. Don’t you think so?”

Destiny gritted her teeth, realizing he had already planned the afternoon. She hadn’t wanted to drag this thing out, but she didn’t see any other option.

She smiled stiffly and nodded.

He turned onto Duval Street and went east, heading away from the wharf, to the less populated part of the Key.

Once they’d cleared the town, he snapped the reins again and urged the bays into a fast trot. Destiny grabbed at her straw bonnet, holding it on her head so it wouldn’t fly off. They skimmed along the beach on the Atlantic side at a fast clip. She struggled to tie the ribbons of her bonnet tighter. When she had the hat secured, she dropped her hands and enjoyed the golden-colored beach and the white-tipped, turquoise waves as the carriage went faster.

A sense of exhilaration shot through her. It was if they were flying along behind the horses. The feeling took her breath away and made her heart pound—almost like being kissed. She hadn’t ridden in a proper buggy with a matched set of horses in a long time. The Key was so small, she and Gramps usually walked. She’d forgotten what it felt like to go this fast.

Nathan grinned and took her hand, tucking it in the crook of his elbow. She grinned back, enjoying herself and savoring the touch of his strong, calloused hand. With her hand tucked in his arm, it wasn’t long before they rounded the Key and reached the wharf from the west side.

The bays stopped when Nathan pulled back on the reins, but they were still wound-up. The horses sidled alongside the wharf, snorting and tossing their heads, their dark red coats covered with a light sheen of lather.

“Here we are, Destiny,” he declared. “We’ll let the horses cool a bit while we’re on board. If you want to go fast again after we see the Columbia, I think the horses are ready.”

She nodded, agreeing without thinking. She’d thoroughly enjoyed their madcap ride along the beach and had managed to forget the painful task ahead. But with the buggy ride over and Nathan’s ship looming before her, she remembered. As soon as they were finished looking over the ship, she’d insist he take her home by the shortest route.

The Columbia, a United States Navy revenue cutter, looked sleek and rigged for speed. Nathan explained the sixty-foot, double-mast steamship cutter had to be fast and maneuverable to catch smugglers on the high seas.

He led her up the gangplank and aboard the upper deck. They strolled the length of the cutter, and she realized how small it was compared to the schooners her grandfather and the other wreckers used. Nathan told her his crew consisted of only twenty to twenty-five sailors.

The covered paddle wheel bulked at the back of the ship and provided the steam power for the cutter to sail against the wind. For someone raised around wind-driven ships, the paddle wheel looked incongruous and out of place.

The other thing she noticed was the guns. Gramps’ schooner had one ancient cannon for emergencies. The Columbia carried ten nine-pounders, strategically located for maximum firepower. There were four guns on the starboard side and four on the port, with one gun at the bow and one aft.

Gazing at the ominous-looking guns, she trembled, realizing what a dangerous occupation Nathan had. But then, she knew he was a brave man. When she remembered how he’d championed her at the ball, her heart expanded. Giving him up was going to be one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.

After they’d toured topside, he took her below and showed her the cramped quarters, complete with hammocks and foot lockers, where his crew lived. The galley and storage rooms were little bigger than closets, but she was accustomed to tight quarters on board ship. Her grandfather’s ship, though larger in bulk, had miniscule rooms below deck, too.

He opened the door to the engine room and gestured at a welter of pipes and gauges. This room was completely foreign to Destiny and smelled awful with the stench of grease and burnt coal thick in the air.

Nathan saved his cabin for last. When he threw open the heavy brass door, he did so with a flourish. Glancing up at him, she saw the pride shining in his eyes. He was honest and forthright, and like her, he wore his feelings on his sleeve. If it hadn’t been for James…

He bowed low and ushered her inside. His cabin was as she’d expected, small but functional and neat as a pin. One area did catch her attention, though. He had fitted a long row of bookshelves around the perimeter of the room, and the shelves were crammed with books.

“I didn’t know you liked to read,” she said. “Are all these books yours?”

“Yes, they’re mine. Next to the sea, I like nothing better than reading.” He paused and tugged at his collar. “Except, of course, to be with you, Destiny.”

He leaned forward, and she realized he meant to kiss her. But she couldn’t allow it—not now. Not when she was going to tell him she didn’t want to see him again.

Slipping past him, she made a slow circuit of the cabin, studying its contents, from his astrolabe to the official papers on his desk. At the opposite side of the room, she stopped to test the hardness of his bunk’s mattress. She ran her hand over the coverlet, tucked tightly into the bunk. She sat on the edge and then bounced on the mattress. She’d grown up bouncing on her Gramps’ bunk. It was fun especially when the ship was moving, rolling from side to side.

But when she looked up and caught his gaze, she saw the bright flare of desire in his eyes. She realized, belatedly, what she was doing and how it must look. She flushed and scrambled to her feet.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” the old saying reverberated in her head. She’d avoided kissing him, only to crawl into his bed!

What must he think of her?

They stood at opposite sides of the cramped cabin. Their gazes snagged and held. The air in the close cabin crackled, vibrant with sexual tension, humming with unfulfilled desire.

“You have a lovely cabin, Nathan. And so many books! Do they ever fall out when you hit rough seas?”

He closed his eyes and gulped. The cords of muscle in his neck stood out in stark relief. She knew what an effort it took him to retain his gentlemanly demeanor. If she’d read the frank desire in his eyes correctly, he wanted nothing more than to grab her and throw her onto the narrow bed.

And her body responded, too. Her skin flushed hotter, and her heart accelerated. Her breasts felt full, and her nipples incredibly sensitive, rubbing against the fabric of her chemise. And lower, she experienced a pleasurable tightening between her thighs.

She craved his kisses—even now. Yearned for his strong, muscular arms to embrace her, holding her close and safe. Desire simmered in her veins, and she longed for his touch upon her skin, feather-light and gentle. Touching her as only he knew how to do.

He cleared his throat. “If you look closely, the shelves have a wooden lip on them, top and bottom. The books seldom slide loose. Once, we were caught in the tail-end of a hurricane, and then all the books came flying out. Luckily, I was topside, manning the decks, trying to steer clear of the weather, not down here.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She turned and skimmed her hand over the wooden lip on the shelf. “How clever. Well, the books must be a great comfort to you when you’re at sea.”

He shifted from one foot to the other. “Any time you want to borrow a book, just let me know.” His arm swept the narrow confines. “I’ve plenty to choose from.”

Nathan attracted her without trying. She’d never felt this way about James. She welcomed his kisses and gloried in his affection, but her body had never craved his touch or longed for…

In fact, when he’d tried to touch her in the swamp, she’d been offended. Why was that? What was wrong with her? She loved James; she’d loved him since she was a child. But it was Nathan who relentlessly drew her, filling her thoughts with erotic images, commanding her body’s response as easily as he commanded this ship.

Was she making a mistake, giving up Nathan?

But it couldn’t be. She’d dreamed and plotted to have James, not Nathan. Maybe she felt this way because she’d never been in a man’s bedroom before—Gramps’ cabin didn’t count. It had to be the reason. If she’d been with James in his bedroom, she’d have experienced the same sensations, the same desire. As it was, the horrible swamp had hardly been conducive to romance.

Frightened by her conflicted desires and feeling guilty, she blurted out, “Nathan, I can’t see you again. I love another.”

****

Destiny dabbed at her mouth with a snowy-white napkin and took a sip of wine. Lifting her spoon, she dipped it carefully into the tortoise soup and brought it to her mouth. She’d thought her table manners were impeccable, having learned them at Miss Prentiss’ finishing school. But after watching Jennifer Shaw, James’ sister, stare at her throughout the first two courses, she wasn’t certain.

She sighed softly. After waiting almost two weeks, the big night had come when James introduced her to his sister and brother-in-law. She’d been ready to charm his relatives, wanting to be accepted, but she’d found Jennifer’s reception chilly and distant.

Jennifer’s husband, Charles, hadn’t made the evening any easier. He’d been obviously drunk when they’d arrived and much too solicitous of her, almost to the point of embarrassment. With Charles leering at her and practically sticking his nose down her décolleté, was it any wonder his wife hadn’t taken to her?

Glancing up, she noticed the Shaws’ English butler enter the dining room. He’d greeted them at the door but hadn’t taken part in serving dinner. Not that she’d expected him to. He’d looked down his long nose when they’d arrived, and she’d had the distinct impression his position was largely ornamental.

But now he appeared to be agitated and decidedly out of place, standing at attention to one side, as if waiting for his employers to notice him.

Jennifer, who’d been holding forth on the outrageousness of current Parisian fashions, stopped with her spoon midway to her mouth. Her eyebrows flew up, and she frowned. Her soup spoon clattered to the plate beneath the bowl.

Instinctively, Destiny cringed.

“Pickering, what is it?” Jennifer addressed the fidgeting butler.

Pickering shook his head. “There is a servant at the door. I believe she belongs to Miss Favor, and she’s quite insistent—”

His words were eclipsed by the sliding wooden panel to the dining room being thrown open. Tilly stood in the doorway; her dark face was ashen, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

Her gaze fastened on Destiny.”Miz Destiny, come quick! Miz Angelina, she’s been taken by men agin ’er will.” Tilly thumped her chest. “Ah’s seen it. They grabbed ’er and throwed ’er in a wagon.”

Destiny rose to her feet, scarcely able to believe Tilly. She tossed her napkin on the table. “Tilly, what are you saying? What has happened? How did you see this? Explain to me.”

Tilly’s chest bobbed up and down. “You ’member Miz Angelina said she needed to go back to the factory ’cause the workers were goin’ to finish buildin’ tonight?”

Destiny nodded, remembering. At the time, she hadn’t thought it wise for Angelina to go out at night, but she hadn’t paid proper attention. She’d been too busy, worrying about meeting James’ family.

“What did you see, Tilly?”

“Well, I was goin’ to take ’er a basket of supper, and ’fore I got to ’er factory, a wagon pulled up an’ two men grabbed Miz Angelina an’ threw a bag o’er ’er ’ead an‘ tossed ’er in a covered wagon. She was struggling, Ah’s seen that. An‘ dat wagon was ’eaded toward the dock.” She bobbed her head up and down. “They’s was takin‘ ’er to a ship, Ah’s think.”

Destiny rounded the dinner table, but before she could reach Tilly, Pickering grabbed Tilly’s arm and shoved her back toward the doorway. “My good woman, you can’t break in here and cause a disturbance.”

Destiny couldn’t believe the snobbish butler’s audacity. Furious and frightened for Angelina, she shoved, too, pushing Pickering to one side and taking Tilly’s arm.

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed James. He’d also risen from his seat. “Destiny, return to this table at once! And let go of Pickering!” He fisted his hands on the dinner table. “I can’t countenance your behavior. You’re humiliating me in front of my sister and her husband. How can you allow this to happen? Your servant must be disciplined.”

Shocked by his selfish and uncaring attitude, she hesitated for only a second. She didn’t have time to argue with him. If he couldn’t understand Tilly’s dreadful news took precedence over a dinner party, she didn’t have time to convince him.

“I apologize for the interruption.” Her gaze swept James and his sister. “Thank you for inviting me. But something terrible has happened to my friend, and I must get help.” She avoided looking at James and grabbed Tilly’s arm. They ran out of the house, and Destiny headed toward the wharf.

Tilly, running alongside, huffed and puffed to keep up. “Miz Destiny, whut ’bout yer granfader?”

“I want to find Captain Rodgers first. I know he can help. Then we’ll get grandfather.”

Breathing hard, Tilly nodded.

Several minutes later, they stood on the wharf. Destiny’s gaze riveted upon one spot—where the Columbia had been moored a few days ago. But the space was empty; the cutter gone. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Nathan had told her the cutter would be in dry dock for several days, finishing repairs.

Fisting her hands, she rubbed her eyes, wondering if the wine she’d drunk at the Shaw’s had affected her vision. But when she looked again, she saw the same thing, an empty expanse of water, gently lapping at the wharf’s pilings.

Groaning, she turned to Tilly. “We’ve got to get Gramps and his ship…and…” Her mind somersaulted. Her hands trembled, and her heart pounded. She sucked in her breath; and an idea formed.

“Señor Estava.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s it! He has an office here with quarters in the back. He’ll help Angelina, and he’ll know where to find Nathan.”

She crossed the wharf and headed for a row of offices. She looked for Alejandro’s underwriting office. Ships’ lanterns gave fitful illumination. She moved along the row, trying to read the signs.

Finally, she saw a sign, “Medrano and Company, Ship Underwriters.” If her memory served her, this had to be his office. Peering inside the small window, she glimpsed the glow of a light from within. Hope filled her, bringing tears to her eyes.

She curled her shaking hand into a fist and pounded on the wooden door. “Señor Estava, are you in there? Please come out! Señor Estava, please. It’s about Angelina—she’s been abducted!”

She heard movement from within and then a figure passed between her and the light. The door flew open, and Alejandro stepped out. “What has happened? Señorita Destiny, why are you here?”

“It’s Angelina—someone has taken her. Tilly saw it. I don’t know the details. I rushed here to find Captain Rodgers because Tilly believes Angelina was abducted and taken away on a ship. But Nathan’s ship is gone. He’d told me they were doing repairs. Do you know where he is?”

Alejandro reached out and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go slowly, Destiny. One thing at a time. You say someone took Angelina. Against her will?”

Destiny gulped, wrenched by her mounting panic. She inhaled and tried to calm herself; she needed to give Alejandro a coherent account. She turned and faced Tilly. “Tell him what happened. Exactly what you saw.”

Tilly recounted what she’d seen on Frances Street.

Alejandro listened and then asked, “There were two men, correct?”

Tilly nodded.

“But the first man, who grabbed Angelina, was he stocky and short?”

“Yes’sah.”

“The torches were burning when you got there, but no workers were around? And when the wagon came up, Angelina went to it?”

“Yes’ sah, dat’s whut ’appened.”

“What does it mean?” Destiny asked, frantic to understand and desperate to help her friend. All she could think about were the seconds ticking by and Angelina being in danger.

Alejandro turned to Destiny. “I have a pretty good idea who took Angelina. Now we’ve got to get her back. And for that, I’ll need your Captain Rodgers.”

“But where is Nathan? Do you know?”

“Yes, I spoke to him late this afternoon. I was surprised he was leaving port, too, but he said they’d completed the repairs ahead of schedule. He took his crew to the other side of the Key to do night maneuvers. I’ll need a horse to get to him quickly.”

“The stables. Mister Frick knows me—he’ll open for an emergency. I came to get Nathan because…I…” Destiny couldn’t finish the sentence.

“You were smart to look for Captain Rodgers because we’ll need a ship to get her back,” Alejandro said. “There was a sailing vessel, bound for Cuba that left about half an hour ago. I thought it strange to be sailing at this time of night. And if I had to place a bet, I’d wager Angelina is on that ship.”

Destiny put her hand on his arm. “How do you know that? Are you certain? It’s Angelina’s life that is at stake?”

He patted her hand, wanting to console her, but she saw the fear and desperation in the depths of his eyes. “I can’t explain now. We’ve no time, but I’m certain she’s on the ship.” He gave her hand one last pat. “Quickly, take me to the stables. We’ve no time to waste.”

****

Angelina tried to lie perfectly still because each time she moved or tried to turn her body, brought on fresh agony. They’d doubled her arms and legs behind her back and bound them together, trussing her like a chicken ready for roasting. The scratchy burlap bag still covered her head, obscuring her vision.

But it shouldn’t matter. It was as dark as a tomb in the hold of the ship. And they’d gagged her with a bandana so she couldn’t cry out. Her throat was like a desert, parched and raw. She tried to swallow the hot lump there.

She could scarcely believe what had happened or divine the reason why. She should have been suspicious when López said the crew wanted to continue working by torchlight, to make up for lost time during a rainstorm. But she hadn’t questioned him because she’d been too eager to finish the factory.

And she hadn’t even bothered to take her derringer to the work site, so intent was she on the construction. The last thing she’d expected was to be abducted by López. Cortez must have given the order. But why?

Voices from above stopped her feverish thoughts. The hatch door slid open. Through the chinks in the burlap bag, she glimpsed shimmers of light and heard footfalls on the ladder. Tensing, she realized someone was coming down. What would they do to her now?

The footsteps stopped above her head, and the distinctive sound of Cortez’s voice said, “Good job, López. And you know where to take her for the reward?”

“Sí, mi jefe. Your suspicions were correct about the señorita. She isn’t who she claims to be. Her father is rich and willing to pay handsomely for her return. When you sent me to Havana, I saw the handbills advertising for a Señorita Ximenes. The handbills showed her likeness, and I knew it was she, though her last name is different.”

“Muy bien, López, you’ve done well. Half the reward is yours. And when you return, as I promised, the cigar factory is yours as well. This is much easier and more profitable than ruining her business and foreclosing. You’re to be commended on your initiative.”

“You’re too kind, jefe.”

“I like to reward a job well done.” There was a pause before Cortez’s voice continued, “You must take care of her, though. Once you’re out to sea, loose her bonds and allow her to clean herself. We want her father to be pleased with the merchandise and pay readily. Eh?”

“Sí, sí, mi jefe. I will handle her with care as soon as it’s safe.”

Then the sound of retreating footsteps reached her ears, along with more muttered conversation she couldn’t quite make out. But it didn’t matter. She slumped back, not realizing she’d been straining forward to overhear their words. And they’d meant for her to hear them, she was certain of that.

So, her father had offered a reward and even printed handbills with her likeness. She groaned behind the filthy bandana. She should have known her father would move heaven and earth to find her. When she’d fled to Key West, she hadn’t gone far enough.

Cortez hadn’t even mentioned using her factory to hide smuggled goods. No, he’d had a much uglier purpose. He’d planned on ruining her business and foreclosing. He’d never really wanted to help her.

Again, men were her downfall. Between her father and Cortez, she hadn’t stood a chance. Men controlled everything, and they weren’t above using force and committing crimes to get their way.

But not Alejandro…the name rose unbidden to her lips. Alejandro had tried to warn her about Cortez. He’d badgered her to not get involved with the man. He’d even offered to fund the building of her factory. Alejandro was a good man, honorable and decent. Why hadn’t she listened to him? Why hadn’t she allowed him to help her?

Because she’d been too proud and…too afraid. Because she hadn’t wanted to let any man into her life, not even one as good and decent as Alejandro. And because he exerted a strange power over her, commanding her body at will, transforming her strong-minded purpose into a welter of desire.

She gulped back the tears crowding her throat. With the bandana suffocating her, she knew it would be foolish to cry. Besides, her tears were prompted by self-pity, an emotion she could ill afford. Even if she cried an ocean of tears, her desperate attempt at freedom was over. She would be delivered to her father like a prize, and he would force her to marry that awful planter.

Her life was over, over, over… The chant rounded in her head, keeping time with the waves slapping against the ship’s hold.

She felt the rolling movement now. The ship must have set sail. She was on her way to Cuba. Even the thought of López loosening her bonds and allowing her to clean up didn’t hearten her.

Then she heard a scratching sound and the scurrying of tiny feet. Rats! They’d left her in the hold with rats! She despised the filthy creatures with their long, slimy tails.

Shuddering, she curled herself into an even tighter ball. Now she wanted to be free, was desperate for López to loose her bonds.

She strained her ears, listening for the rats, praying they’d leave her alone.