Forgotten Fragrance (23 page)

‘Miss Charlotte and the God-botherer are on their way to the beach already. She was a bit weak so he said they'd take their time.'

‘And what about Catz and Bristol? Are we going to have a problem with them?'

‘Nah, Capt'n! Once they see you back in command and him,' Cookie gave Henk's body a prod with his gun, ‘they'll know which side their bread's buttered.'

‘I hope you're right.' Christian kept his eyes away from his handiwork. ‘I want to get out of here and back to sea as quickly and quietly as we can. We need to return to Sydney before any information leaks out.'

‘Think we should do the quickly bit, Capt'n, not so sure we can do the quietly part. Looks like you left your calling card.'

Christian turned back to the wool store. Bright red, yellow and orange flames illuminated the interior, each individual door and window highlighted by the inferno licking hungrily through the grease-soaked timbers.

‘Jesus bloody Christ! The lamp.' Christian grabbed Henk's upper body and nodded to Cookie. ‘Let's get the hell out of here. Run!' Together they lifted the dead weight and dragged it down the beach. The girls needed no encouragement; they raced over the sand dunes to the two boats resting in the shallows.

The flames grew sickeningly higher encompassing the looming skeleton of the three-storey building. Dark figures scurried like ants above the beach, converging on the inferno.

‘Wool grease,' Marcus stated flatly. ‘Does it every time, fuels the flames, heats the fire and destroys everything in its path. A body can incinerate in a matter of moments. Trapped inside no one would have a chance.'

‘Marcus!' Charlotte covered her mouth with her hand to prevent the bile from rising, the thought of Mina and the girls as charred remains turned her stomach. And Christian. What of Christian? She'd sent him back to rescue the girls. He couldn't be snatched from her again. Not now.

‘They're comin'.' Catz's laconic voice stopped Charlotte's heart.

A raggle-taggle jumble of people, arms and legs waving like puppets, streamed down the sand dunes.

A rush of euphoria surged through her. She leapt to her feet setting the boat rocking in the shallows.

Marcus grabbed at her skirt. ‘Sit down,' he hissed, ‘you don't know who it is.'

Charlotte shook him away. ‘It's the girls. I know it is.' She threw her arms above her head and waved. Jinks slithered and slid down the sand dunes herding the panic-stricken girls. With her heart in her mouth she scanned the rise praying Christian and Cookie would appear. Had another fight caused the fire? A lamp tipped in the straw could easily have started the blaze. The greased timber floor would burn like a cauldron, as Marcus said.

‘Oh shit! Looks like you were right, Miss Charlotte. The Capt'n and Cookie have Henk's body between ‘em. Should've left him to burn.' Bristol vaulted over the side of the boat and waded through the water dragging the other boat up the beach. ‘We'll put the girls in this one and the Captain and Cookie can come with us.'

Charlotte sank back down onto the seat, her bones like jellied eels. All but convinced Christian had perished in the flames she now had no doubt who it was lugging Henk's body down the dunes. Then Bristol's words registered:
The Captain and Cookie.
Fickle as the wind the crew had changed their allegiance once more.

‘Mina!' Charlotte cupped her hands around her mouth. ‘Over here, Mina.'

Jinks shepherded the first of the girls into the whaleboat and Charlotte reached out her hand towards Mina. ‘Mina, come here with me. I am so happy you are safe.'

‘We are happy, too,' Mina cried, splashing through the water. ‘Your Captain, he rescued us.'

Charlotte felt a tug of warmth at her words.
Your captain.
A tingling warmth hit the pit of her stomach and she smiled up at Mina. ‘Come and sit down here next to me. Marcus, move along a little bit.'

Mina settled next to Charlotte. ‘Your face!' She clasped her hand and examined the bloody mess. ‘It was the Dutchman.'

Charlotte nodded. ‘It's all over now.' As she spoke Christian and Bristol tipped Henk's corpse into the whaleboat like a bundle of dirty rags at their feet. Her stomach heaved and she welcomed Mina's arm around her shoulders.

‘Bristol! Catz! Time to cut and run. I don't think we will have any problems, they're too busy with the fire.' Christian tossed a look back at the burning building. ‘Can you handle the other boat?'

‘Yes, Capt'n!' Bristol said. ‘And it's good to see you back, Capt'n. Way it should be.'

‘We'll see about that when we get back aboard, Bristol.' Christian vaulted into the whaleboat. ‘We've got some talking to do.'

Charlotte eyed Henk's crumpled body lying at her feet and tentatively touched her swollen face, refusing to dwell on what might have been. She'd think about Henk back on board. Not a trace of doubt remained in her mind about the captaincy of the
Zephyrus.
With Christian back in command she and the girls would be safe. She clutched Mina's hand as the boat rocked. ‘I shall be so pleased to get back on board.'

‘Ready?' Christian lifted one of the oars and pushed the whaleboat into the deeper water. Catz and Bristol heaved the other out into the surf, clambered aboard and together the two boats headed out to the solitary silhouette of the
Zephyrus
.

Mina's face contracted and she gestured speechless at the burning building.

‘Oh Mina, I'm sorry. You know even less of your fate than you did last time you were on the ship. Don't worry, I am sure Christian will do his best for you.'

‘I hope so. We must go home. Do you think your Captain will take us home?'

‘I'm sure he will,' Charlotte said, watching the taut play of muscles across Christian's back as he rowed them across the bay. He could arrange anything. So much would have to be sorted out. Not only Henk's death, the mutiny and the blackbirds, but also her future. In her heart of hearts she knew what she wanted.

Marcus peered across the water as if gauging the distance to the
Zephyrus,
studiously ignoring Henk's crumpled remains at his feet. Charlotte's gaze roamed from Christian to Marcus. What to do? Christian held her heart and Marcus her liberty.

Relishing the wind in his hair and the worn timber beneath his hands Christian guided the
Zephyrus
up the coast. He belonged here, on the water with the high cobalt sky above him and the ocean crashing beneath him. With Henk's body consigned to the deep the crew settled under his command and only the scars on his back remained of Henk's attempt to take the
Zephyrus
. Far more importantly the scars would be a keepsake of Charlotte, of the touch of her hands on his skin, the look of love in her eyes and the passion burning bright in her soul.

‘Here Capt'n, wrap your face around that.' Cookie handed Christian a mug of scalding tea. ‘We've had a bloody good run, there's the Heads.'

The towering cliffs of Sydney Heads, the entrance to the harbour beckoned. Christian grinned down at the old man. ‘Makes up for the bloody mess of the first few days.'

‘Have you decided what you're goin' to do? The crew's with you. All of us. You know, don't you?'

‘Yes, Cookie, I know. We'll sort it out once we hit land.'

‘What're you going to do about the bloody Dutchman?'

‘He led a mutiny. It's the price you pay.' The words left a bitter taste in Christian's mouth. He didn't relish the role of judge and executioner but no matter what happened he would keep Charlotte out of it this time.

Cookie's face paled. ‘What about the rest of us?'

‘You'll be fine. The man was a bully and a fool and you all got tied up. He did what bullies do. He turned the pack. Now he's gone I've got no doubt about the crew's loyalty. We all make mistakes.'

‘Too bloody right we do. Don't know what came over me.'

‘I've written up the log — everything's recorded from the time we left Hobart Town until now, including Henk's contribution. He stuffed himself with the log entry of the keelhauling.'

‘What about the blackbirds?' Cookie flicked his head in the direction of the gaggle of women chattering behind them.

‘They're going to be a bit harder. There's no record of them in the log or on our cargo manifest. I know what I'd like to do and I think we can make a go of it. I'm going to take them home. If everything goes according to plan that'll be our next voyage. We're going to have to keep them out of sight and quiet once we hit Sydney. If the authorities get wind of them we'll be in more trouble. We'll off-load the whale oil at Mosman Bay, see if we can pick up some trading goods, axes, nails, fish hooks, you know the kind of stuff.'

‘And supplies. We're going to need them.' Cookie rubbed his hands together with glee.

‘We'll sail to the Loyalty Islands and take the girls back. Once we've taken them home we'll fill the hold with anything the Islanders want to barter. Maybe even pick up a couple of passengers.'

‘No more of those God-botherers please, Capt'n. I've had enough of them, what with him.' Cookie flicked his head in the direction of the cabins where Christian had no doubt Marcus pored over a mass of tattered papers, scribbling away at his version of events.

‘We'll see, Cookie. We'll see. We'll head for China then, trade the goods for tea and decide what to do next. I have a hankering for India.'

‘Like the sound of that.' Cookie stuck his hand out to relieve Christian of his empty mug. As he did the
Zephyrus
hit the cross current marking the approach to the Heads. The wheel spun free. Swearing, Christian dropped the tin mug and grasped the wheel with both hands. With a clatter the mug rolled across the deck and came to rest against a coil of rope. Cookie scuttled after it while Christian wrestled the ship back, regretting his lapse of concentration.

He'd let it happen once too often. His carelessness allowed Henk to get the blackbirds aboard the
Zephyrus
in the first place. He bore the responsibility for taking them back. From here on in he would follow the old man's wishes and continue to trade and carry passengers. He wanted no more bloodshed on his account, neither whales nor humans. That part of his life was over and regretfully so was his time with Charlotte.

He would give the
Zephyrus,
even his very life, to have her by his side but it could not be. Marcus might be an erratic buffoon yet he could offer Charlotte security, respectability and most of all, peace. She deserved it, and a family. Someone to replace the sister he'd stolen from her. One life sentence already hung over his head and if Marcus saw fit to inform the authorities of the circumstances surrounding Henk's death he could well lose the ship and face the gallows again. It would be a brief visit to Sydney.

‘Capt'n?'

‘Now what, Cookie? Get below and do your job. We'll be through the Heads in a matter of moments.'

‘Thought you might want to have a look at this.'

Before Christian even turned he recognised the scent.
Lily of the Valley
.
Charlotte
. Had his imagination conjured her? She was nowhere to be seen.

‘Cookie?'

The old man stood, legs braced, his hand held high swinging the fine gold chain. The tiny bottle hung ominously loose but the golden Angel clung in place.

‘Where the hell did you get that?'

‘Down there on the deck. Tucked under the big coil of rope. The mug rolled over and there it was. What is it?'

‘It's Charlotte's.' Christian's mind raced. Nothing would make Charlotte part with her necklace. Her talisman. How on earth did it get there? Why would she throw it away?

‘I'll give it back to her. She might be missing it,' Cookie said, the chain swinging with the motion of the ship and the blue of the tiny bottle refracting the light.

‘No.' Christian took it and slipped it into his pocket. ‘I'll do it. When the time's right. You keep your mouth shut about it.'

‘But she —'

‘But she nothing. Do what you're told. And get the blackbirds below decks before we hit the Cove. I want them out of sight.'

Apart from the sentimental value of the little bottle, the Angel coin represented Charlotte's security. She might need it if Marcus didn't honour his word. Left alone to fend for herself its monetary value would provide her with opportunities. As a free woman she would be set for life.

Zephyrus
rounded the Heads, the wind settled and the water calmed. In an hour or so they would drop anchor in the relative safety of Sydney Cove.

‘Jamie.'

Distracted he jumped, patting the pocket of his trousers to ensure the necklace remained safe, and turned.

The swelling on her face had all but disappeared and her hair streamed behind her in the wind. His gut twisted at the thought of the damage Henk's knife might have inflicted. Her eyes glistened with excitement as she gazed at the steep, rocky shoreline.

‘Jamie, are we there? Is this Sydney Cove? It's nothing like I imagined. There aren't many buildings and it's almost uninhabited.'

With a pang the truth hit him. While he'd roamed free, travelling the high seas, Charlotte had served her sentence. Not behind bars but at Marcus' beck and call. She'd never set foot outside Hobart Town. What did she know of the wide open spaces and the beauty the world had to offer? And all because of her involvement with him.

‘We're not in Sydney Cove yet. This is only the beginning.' He indicated the point marking the entrance to the inner harbour. ‘Once we round the headland you will see Sydney. It's a big place now, much, much bigger than Hobart Town. It's a city.'

Charlotte pulled her hair back from her face and gazed with her wide storm-cloud eyes at the vista before her. A little squeal of joy escaped her lips throwing him back to a time when such moments were his to treasure.