Chapter Eleven

‘Michael?’

She stared at the strong features softened by lovemaking and took a swift heartening breath. ‘About Fulton’s. My father really does only have the Conchita left.’

‘I see.’ His expression became carefully blank, shuttering his thoughts on the matter. Yet she didn’t think he was displeased. Perhaps because she’d told him the truth right from the beginning?

‘I hope you are not too disappointed.’

He raised her hand to his lips. He turned it over and kissed her palm, his lips warm and dry, his gaze on her face. ‘How can I be disappointed when I have you?’

A soft velvet touch. A shiver ran down her spine. Her body tightened with yearning. She fought the insidious longing, forced her mind to ignore the clamouring of her body for his touch. He still didn’t know about the debts. But those were Father’s and not hers to discuss. ‘I will do everything I can to help restore the business.’

Regret flickered in his eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

But it did, she could see that it did in the way his gaze seemed to turn in on itself. ‘Your entry into society is assured,’ she said almost wildly.

A knock sounded at the door. ‘Cap’n? Mr Wishart needs you on deck.’

He glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back to her.

‘Cap’n.’ Simpson again. ‘Mr Wishart says it’s urgent.’

‘Blast,’ he said and rushed out of the door.

Bugger Wishart, Michael thought, closing the cabin door. Surely he didn’t need Michael’s help at every turn? He glanced at Simpson’s oddly serious face. ‘What is it?’

The ship yawed beneath his feet. A quick glance up revealed the men scrambling aloft to make more sail. Hell.

‘Simpson, ask Lady Selina to help Miss…my wife dress.’

‘Aye, aye, Cap’n,’ the little man said. ‘And, Cap’n?’

Michael raised a brow.

Simpson grinned. ‘Congratulations. She’s a fine young lady.’

Lady. Aye. Therein lay the problem. The lady had been honourable to a fault, leaving him feeling like the worst of curs. ‘Stir your stumps.’ He headed for a frowning Wishart beside the helmsman.

‘About time,’ David said.

‘What blows?’

‘The wind backed around an hour since, we’ve barely made any headway.’

Wishart should have let him know, but Michael appreciated his friend’s forbearance.

‘What’s our heading?’

‘North by nor’west. But that’s not the problem.’ He gestured over Michael’s shoulder. ‘We’ve got company. Kale, blast his eyes, said he didn’t see it.’

Michael cursed. He strode to the bulwark and Wishart handed him a glass.

The sail was low on the horizon, but even so, Michael knew in his gut what sort of ship he would see. He climbed the ratlines, hooked one foot in the ropes and looked again.

‘Ship of the line,’ he muttered. ‘Seventy-four guns.’

‘Altering course,’ the lookout sang out from his perch on the yard. ‘She’s seen us.’

‘Hurry up, you bastards,’ Michael yelled. ‘Unfurl those sails. Wishart, bring her round. Let’s get the wind at our backs.’

Silence rang in Alice’s ears. The shots followed by crashes and the trembling of the ship like some startled filly had ceased as suddenly as they began. ‘What is happening?’

Anderson pressed his ear to the door of their prison, then shook his head. ‘I do believe we are heaved to.’

When Michael had rushed her down here, he’d said nothing except not to mention their wedding. Not to anyone. When she’d tried to ask why, he’d cut her off and asked her to do his bidding. His gaze had asked her to trust him, although he hadn’t said the words.

So she’d said nothing and had quelled Selina’s questions upon her arrival in the gown she’d worn last night with a cool look and a glance at her brother. But she couldn’t help wondering. Couldn’t help going over the marriage ceremony and wondering if it had been real.

Richard, who’d also been forced to join them in the hold, had expressed confidence that the Gryphon would easily outrun the naval frigate. Then the cannon fire had started. And none of them had said a word about anything.

Selina uncovered her ears and placed her hands flat on the table. ‘What is going to become of us?’ Her voice quivered with tears. ‘They’ll leave us here to die.’

‘Rubbish,’ Richard declared, putting his eye to the crack in the door. ‘The fighting is over. Someone will be along in a moment.’

If Alice hadn’t been quite so worried, she might have laughed at how disconsolate he sounded. She could not help but be glad that Michael had not permitted him to take part in whatever battle had taken place above their heads. She just wished she knew who had won. Hopefully Michael.

But the sounds above their heads, the shudders of the ship left her fearing the worst. She put an arm around her trembling friend. ‘Richard is right. Someone is sure to be along in a moment. Captain Lionhawk won’t let any harm come to us.’ Did she really believe that?

The sound of marching feet thumped overhead. Minutes later a key rattled in the lock and the light from several torches spilled into the hold like dawn into a cave. She blinked to clear her vision. Red jackets adorned with white piping of Royal Navy Marines poured into their prison, their boots clattering on the bare planks.

‘British lobsters,’ Richard shouted, his face full of excitement. ‘Hooray.’

Alice’s stomach plummeted as the red-and-white tide formed a line. Michael had lost. An American privateer was unlikely to receive a warm reception from the Royal Navy. Was this his reason for asking her not to speak of their marriage? Knowing they might be captured, had he feared they’d treat her badly as his wife?

Or had the wedding been a sham after all? There it was. Out in the bright daylight. The fear that once again she’d been played for a fool. The worst part was the hope she was wrong.

A mist blurred her vision and prickled hot behind her nose. She sniffed and inhaled a deep gasping breath. They’d made a bargain. Until she was proved wrong, she would trust him to stand by his word. And in the meantime, she’d say nothing.

An officer, a young man with red cheeks and a magnificent moustache, saluted. ‘Lieutenant Liversedge at your service, ladies and gentlemen.’ He bowed. ‘Captain’s compliments. You are to board the Essex.’

Alice took a deep breath. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant. I am Alice Fulton. This is Lady Selina Albright, my brother, Richard Fulton, and Mr Anderson, the Fulton business agent.’

‘The Essex?’ Richard said, pushing forwards, his face alight. ‘Wasn’t she at Trafalgar? Do you think I can look around?’

The officer’s jaw slackened. ‘I…er…I am sure it can be arranged, sir. Now, if your party would follow us, we’ll get you transferred.’

Mr Anderson urged Selina and Alice forwards. Richard sidled up to the lieutenant, plying him with questions. The troop of soldiers fell in behind.

Up on deck in harsh sunlight, the ravages of the fighting made her heart ache. The aft stateroom where she had spent her wedding night was naught but a splintered wreck. The mainmast trailed in the sea like a broken wing. The smell of gunpowder lingered on the warm breeze flapping the idle sails on the remaining mast. Beside the smaller Gryphon, his Majesty’s Essex sat fat and wide, like a huge goose next to a wounded seagull. At the stern, ten or so redcoats encircled the dispirited crew. With his blond hair and massive height, Wishart stood head and shoulders above his comrades, but where was their captain? Where was Michael? Alice craned her neck to see around her accompanying guard. There. Smeared with soot, a livid bruise on his forehead, hair wild around his shoulders, he was kneeling beside a man stretched out on the deck.

‘Someone is injured.’ She pushed forwards. A marine barred her path with his musket. ‘Stay away from the prisoners, miss.’

‘They’ll be cared for, Miss Fulton,’ Liversedge said at her elbow. She didn’t believe him. There was too much indifference in his voice.

A marine prodded the clearly furious Michael to his feet with the point of a bayonet. One of the soldiers shoved him into line, locking his wrists and ankles into manacles joined by chains to Wishart and the others.

Bile rose in her throat. She couldn’t bear to look and yet she couldn’t look away. Don’t argue, she wanted to call out. Please don’t. You’ll only antagonise them.

The marines closed ranks, blocking her view.

‘Over the side, ladies and gentlemen,’ Liversedge said. ‘The sergeant and his men will help you into the longboat. If you’ll excuse me, I have prisoners requiring my attention.’ He saluted and marched off.

Feeling rather like an ewe being worried by a collie, Alice allowed the sergeant to chivvy their little party to the side of the ship. She looked back for Michael and saw that Kale had been pulled out of the line of prisoners and was in deep conversation with Liversedge. Every now and then the lieutenant’s gaze shot to Michael.

Kale meant no good, she was sure. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach.

‘I can’t,’ Selina wailed, bringing Alice’s attention back to her own party.

‘Sorry, miss,’ the sergeant said. ‘It’s the only way.’

Below them, a very long way below them, four sailors worked their oars to keep the waiting launch steady, while a midshipman in the stern directed their efforts.

The marine hoisted himself over the side, climbed nimbly down the rope ladder and jumped into the bobbing boat. He steadied himself, then held the ladder taut.

Alice recalled with fondness the bo’sun’s chair Michael had provided to get her from the Conchita to the Gryphon. It began to look luxurious compared to the swinging ropes against the side of the ship.

‘Over you go, miss,’ said the soldier at her side.

Alice smiled at Selina through gritted teeth. ‘We have no choice.’

Selina shuddered. ‘Why can’t I just go home on this ship?’

‘It’s a piece of cake,’ Richard said, grinning. ‘I’ll go first and make sure you don’t fall.’

‘Buck up, Selina, it’s quite safe,’ Alice said, with more bravado than her pitching stomach warranted. The sooner she was on the other ship, the sooner she could find out what would happen to Michael and his crew.

Selina peered down at Richard below, shrugged, and let the sergeant help her over the side. To Alice’s amazement, she climbed down as if she’d been doing it all her life, despite her hampering skirts. Richard, young gentleman that he was, kept his gaze firmly fixed on the planks in the bottom of the boat.

If Selina could do it, there were no excuses for her. The sergeant gripped her arm. ‘That’s it, miss. Don’t look down and you will be all right.’

Wonderful. The ladder swung with the rhythm of the ship on the swell. Alice bit down hard on the little scream in the back of her throat. Her stomach knotted. She couldn’t do it. She hated heights. She took a deep breath. Then another. This was no different to mounting a horse or climbing up a set of stairs. Calm good sense and a careful approach were all she needed. Tell that to her pounding heart.

Gritting her teeth, she found the first rung with her foot and staring at the hull in front of her nose, her trembling legs worked their way down rung by rung. The side of the Gryphon soon towered over her head and Richard’s hands were around her waist helping her to a seat in the boat.

She let go an unsteady breath and collapsed on the bench beside Selina. The launch pushed off. She gazed across the water to a similar boat departing from the stern. Michael caught her eyes and stood up and bowed with a devil-may-care smile. His men laughed.

One of the soldiers swung out with his rifle stock. Michael crashed to his knees.

Alice bit back her cry of outrage. How could they be so brutal to a man in chains? Anger rushed hot through her veins. She wasn’t sure who annoyed her most, the brutal soldier, or Michael and his ridiculous gallantry.

‘What will happen to them?’ she asked the sergeant seated on the facing bench.

He grinned. ‘Don’t worry about that lot. The navy always needs experienced sailors. Of course, they’ll try the ringleaders the moment we reaches port,’ the man continued with far too much glee in his voice. ‘Bleedin’ pirates they are. Begging your pardon, miss. They’ll hang ’em fer sure.’

Nausea filled her throat. Her stomach heaved. The gentle sea seemed to pitch the boat like a cork. She swallowed hard.

This was not the time for a fit of the vapours.

Alice and Selina stared at each other from their respective bunks in the cramped officers’ cabin.

‘Nothing but excitement on Fulton Shipping Lines,’ Selina said in a dry little voice. ‘Remind me to travel with you again.’

‘Perhaps we should start a new venture—adventures on the high seas, battles included,’ Alice replied in kind. Anything to take her mind off what might be happening to Michael and his crew.

Selina laughed. ‘Gentlemen walk the plank at sword point, while the ladies are seduced by the handsome captain.’ She sobered. ‘Talking of handsome captains, you were gone all night. Did he seduce you?’

She stared at her friend’s concerned face. Selina had proved herself a true friend over Andrew. Having discovered from his brother Andrew’s plan of seduction to keep her from crying off, she saved Alice before she made the worst mistake of her life. The seduction was done. But she’d cried off anyway. She might have stayed the course, if she hadn’t learned the poor boy loved his childhood sweetheart, but was prepared to make the sacrifice to save his family.

When she’d confronted him and returned his ring, he’d been scathing about the way she’d thrown herself at him, and there had been some gossip. Selina had stood by her.

Would Selina be as supportive now, if she thought Alice had made the same mistake with Michael? ‘I married him.’

‘What?’ Only Selina could make one quiet word sound like a shriek.

‘There was a ceremony conducted by Mr Bones, last night. I signed a document. Michael told me not to speak of it, but I had to tell someone. Promise you won’t tell anyone.’

‘But why marry him?’

‘He wouldn’t agree to forgo the ransom without a contract. There’s nothing more binding than marriage.’ She couldn’t help the doubt creeping into her voice at her friend’s worried expression. She winced and put her fear into words. ‘I’m not even sure it was a proper wedding.’

Selina’s jaw dropped. ‘But that means…Alice, you spent the night with him.’

A blissful night. Her body warmed. Her face felt hot, all the way to her hairline.

‘Alice,’ Selina said, her eyes popping open, ‘you look…besotted.’

No hiding things of that nature from Selina. She lifted her chin. ‘It was lovely.’

‘So, you hope you are married.’

‘Yes.’ She pressed cool palms to hot cheeks. ‘But please say nothing until I’ve spoken to him.’

Selina’s fair brow wrinkled. For a stomach-clenching moment, Alice thought she’d balk.

‘Oh, very well,’ Selina said. ‘I don’t quite see where all this is leading, but you can trust me to follow along.’

There weren’t many true friends in a life and Selina was one. But even friends had lines beyond which they would not pass. And this was asking a lot. Alice reached out and took her hands. ‘Thank you.’

‘So now what do you plan to do?’

‘First I want to find the surgeon.’ At least one of Michael’s men had been injured in the fighting and she wasn’t sure the navy would bother to provide medical attention. Then she needed a word with the captain of the Essex.

Selina swung her legs up on the bunk and put her hands behind her head. ‘Liversedge said we weren’t to leave here without an escort. For our own safety.’ She mimicked the fussy voice of the lieutenant. ‘Why not speak to the surgeon when we dine with the officers?’ She sounded as if she felt it was the right thing to say, even if she knew it was hopeless.

‘If I wait, it might be too late. I don’t trust the lieutenant.’

‘I agree. There is something about him one cannot quite like.’

Selina’s instincts about men were infallible. The echo of her own feelings about the lieutenant served to deepen her fears. Alice kept her face cheerful. ‘I won’t be gone long.’

‘Perhaps I ought to come with you. As a chaperon.’

‘No.’

Selina’s elegant brows rose at her abruptness.

‘You wandering around the ship is sure to attract attention. No one will notice me.’

Selina grimaced. ‘Be careful, Alice. You don’t want to make things worse than they are for Captain Lionhawk.’

Alice drew in a deep breath. ‘I know. But I can’t sit here not knowing if he is all right.’

‘Ah, now we get to the heart of the matter. After all your talk of bargains, you’ve fallen for the man.’ Selina tapped her lip with her forefinger. ‘Tell me, was it love at first sight?’

Alice couldn’t restrain her grin. ‘You are impossibly romantic.’

‘Me? Not likely. Find your pirate. But, Alice, don’t let him break your heart.’

Hearts were not involved. Definitely not. She was just worried about his health and that of his men.

She opened the cabin door and peered out. The stink of pitch and the smoke from lanterns along the length of the dim passageway filled her nostrils. No one in sight. At least Liversedge hadn’t placed a guard at their door. Why would he? In his view, they were guests, not prisoners.

With a quick wave to Selina, Alice closed the door. Surgeons usually operated their sick berth on the gun deck, which meant she had to go down. She took a few hesitant steps in the direction of the bow. Where was Richard when she needed him? Having a good time following a new captain around, no doubt. No confined-to-quarters order for him. Because he was male.

‘Pardon me, ma’am’

Heart in her mouth, Alice spun around to face a red-haired boy of about Richard’s age in the uniform of a midshipman.

He saluted smartly. ‘Permission to pass you, ma’am?’

Ma’am. She must have the appearance of some ancient crone to this youth. She stepped back. He ducked his head and hurried past.

‘Wait,’ Alice said.

He halted and turned.

‘Can you direct me to the infirmary?’ she asked, smiling.

‘Seasick, miss?’ The boy’s squeaking adolescent voice held sympathy.

Memory of Michael saying much the same thing only two days before struck a painful nerve. She shook her head. ‘Can you point me in the right direction?’

‘Aye, miss.’ He pointed back the way she came. ‘If you take the first turn to starboard, go down the last companionway before you reach the stern, then two turns to port and one to starboard, you will find Mr Smollet’s surgery.’

Alice must have shown her instant confusion because he grinned. ‘May I escort you, ma’am?’

‘Thank you.’

The boy squeezed passed her and trotted ahead.

‘Have you met my brother, Richard?’

‘The civilian? He’s berthing with the middys. Seems like a good sort. Of course, he’s under the care of one of the older men.’

‘And the prisoners?’

‘They got them safely in irons.’

Alice held her impatience in check and kept her voice light and easy. ‘I’m glad to hear it. And just where would they be?’

‘Just below the marines’ wardroom. They mount a guard day and night.’ He dived into a companionway. ‘This way,’ he called back. When she reached the bottom step, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘The lobsters’ berth is that way.’

Men’s voices and laughter emanated from an open door. ‘They ain’t got nothing to do all day except play cards.’

‘And guard the prisoners.’

‘Hah. They’re all locked up. They only need one man down there. Get off with it light, they do.’ He forged ahead.

Alice followed him. Away from the marines and away from Michael. Alice glanced over her shoulder, trying to memorise the wardroom’s location.

The midshipman knocked on a door and opened it. ‘Visitor, sir.’

A tallish man with thinning sandy hair swung around, wiping his hands on his bloody apron. His gaunt long face set in a frown, he glared at the intruders over his eyeglasses. ‘Shut the bloody door, Mr Tib.’

‘Aye, aye, sir,’ Tib replied, ushering Alice in.

Tib saluted. ‘I’ll be off now then, sir.’

‘Damn your eyes, boy. You’re here and here you’ll stay until I’m done with you.’

‘Aye, aye, sir, but Mr Meadows wants me on deck.’

‘I’ll deal with Meadows,’ Smollet muttered. He turned to Alice. ‘I lost my middy over the side last week and didn’t bother to replace him.’ He picked up a bottle from amongst his bloody instruments and took a deep swallow then squeezed his eyes shut before giving Alice a sharp look. ‘Now, young lady. What brings you to my corner of the Essex?’

She smiled. ‘I came to ask about Mr Anderson, my father’s employee.’

The doctor shook his head.

‘He had a broken arm.’

‘Oh, aye. I remember him. He didn’t need my attention. Whoever did the work on him did a good job. As good as I could do, if not better. He’s berthed with the officers.’

Alice’s gaze skimmed over the bloody plank table behind him. ‘Were a great many men wounded in the fighting yesterday?’

‘Five. A cannon broke loose. Curse it.’

‘At least one of the men of the Gryphon was also injured.’

Smollet grimaced, the lines on his face deepening. ‘I don’t know anything about the prisoners. Only when I have finished attending to every sailor on the Essex will I spend my time assisting a bunch of cutthroats.’

Alice swallowed the angry reply that raced to her lips. Honey, not vinegar, she reminded herself. ‘They do have their own doctor. He was the one who set Mr Anderson’s arm. Perhaps I could take him some supplies?’ She held her gaze steady with the brown eyes observing her. The man looked exhausted.

‘I could come back and give you some help,’ she added, sensing a refusal on the tip of his tongue.

‘I don’t need females fainting all over my surgery, thank you kindly.’

Alice glanced down at his apron. ‘I don’t faint at the sight of blood, I assure you.’

‘All right,’ Smollet said in grudging tones, ‘if you help me here, I’ll give you some supplies for the blasted prisoners.’

Alice nodded. ‘Agreed.’

‘Here.’ Smollet turned and pulled bandages from a cupboard. ‘I’ll spare what I can. But, young lady, I warn you, be very careful. Those men are cornered and dangerous.’

‘I understand.’

‘Do you? Then you are more intelligent than most females I know.’ Smollet hauled out a couple of blankets and spread them on the floor. He dropped bandages and swabs in the centre and added basilica powder, unguent, needles and thread to the pile. He tied the four corners. ‘That should do.’

‘I’ll take some of that rum,’ Alice said, pointing at the row of flasks on the bottom shelf.

‘You drive a hard bargain, Miss Fulton.’

Alice smiled. ‘So do you, Dr Smollet. Thank you.’

‘Hmmph. Tib, take Miss Fulton to the prisoners.’

Tib, who had watched the exchange with a rather bemused expression, snapped to attention. ‘Aye, aye, sir.’

‘I want you back here on the double. No lolly-gagging with the prisoners, boy.’

‘I’ll have to ask Lieutenant Liversedge for the key, sir,’ Tib said a mite anxiously.

‘Nonsense,’ Smollet said. ‘Get the key from the wardroom. They’ve a spare. Look smart, boy. Don’t stand there or I’ll put you on a charge.’

A flush stained the lad’s cheeks. ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ He dashed out of the door with the bundle in his arms. Alice hurried after him.

‘Miss Fulton, take this.’ She looked back to see Smollet holding out a battered leather bag. ‘Some spare surgical instruments. If he’s got shot to deal with, he’ll need it.’

Clearly Smollet’s bark was far worse than his bite. She smiled her thanks and hustled after Mr Tib. She didn’t dare lose sight of the boy. She’d never find her way through this rabbit warren of timber.

At the end of the passage, Tib dived into the wardroom. The smoke of strong-smelling cigars curled out of the door along with the noise of men in a rollicking mood. Tib ducked out a second later, gleefully holding a key aloft like a prize. ‘Got it,’ he whispered.

‘Where was it?’ she whispered back.

Tib jerked his head. ‘Hanging on the wall just inside the door. They never even looked up.’ He grinned. ‘They’ll never notice it’s missing.’

Alice peeped through the door at the group of men engrossed in a game of dice at a large wooden table. At the other end of the room a series of hammocks were slung between upright posts. ‘Surely it is better to seek permission if Dr Smollet gave instructions?’

The boy glowered. ‘He might outrank Liversedge, but the lieutenant’s a stickler for the rules. No one crosses him. Not if he knows what’s good for him. Come on, miss, or the old sawbones’ll be after my hide.’

Tib lit a torch and plunged ahead.