Forgotten Fragrance (24 page)

‘Bring her round,' he shouted as the wind changed direction and they tacked to negotiate the entrance to Sydney Cove.

Once the
Zephyrus
returned to an even keel he sneaked another look at Charlotte. She hung over the deck rail pointing with excitement at the mass of masts reaching skywards. Warships and whalers, schooners and skiffs — every kind of ship imaginable nestled in the magnificent harbour.

‘And look, there are windmills and churches, so many churches. Look at the spires. You could climb every one of those.' She threw him a grin and his breath caught. What he wouldn't give to have her with him always, but it was far more important to keep her safe — safe from his murdering hands.

‘Isn't it beautiful?' Racing along the deck with her skirts clutched in her hands, showing her long strong legs, Charlotte ran away from him to the prow of the ship. He wanted nothing more than to pull her back to his side and keep her there forever. It could not be. In Sydney they would say goodbye. Goodbye to each other and goodbye to all that had gone before.

Marcus paced the small cabin, six paces and turn, another six. It made Charlotte dizzy. He ground to a halt and faced her, rubbing the case of his pocket watch between his fingers. Already he'd rubbed a spot through the silver plate with his nervous habit, soon there would be nothing left of his precious timepiece.

‘Charlotte, before we disembark we have matters to discuss. I want our first steps on the mainland to herald our new beginning. I have thought long and hard and through the kindness of my heart and the effort I have already spent on your behalf I am prepared to forgive your transgressions. I will repeat the offer I made to you.'

Marcus' words washed over her as she peered through the small window at the mass of buildings clinging to the cliff side. The shouts and screams of the bustling port hung in the breeze. Her excitement shrivelled and fell away, taking with it her dreams and hopes.

‘I will have the banns called as soon as we settle. Your sentence will be over in a matter of months and you will be a free woman and may become my wife.'

Charlotte turned her head and scrutinised the man standing by the desk, his pocket watch now clasped in his hand as he caressed the chain. Did he know what he was saying? Marriage to Marcus would be a life sentence.
No!
She clamped her lips tightly together, swallowing the word so determined to escape.

Marriage to Marcus was nothing she wanted. The intimidated, lost soul who had boarded the
Zephyrus
in Hobart Town no longer existed. She wanted Jamie; she wanted Christian, the man who made her blood sing and her heart pound. She wanted freedom. The vision of Henk with his knife waving in front of her face continued to turn her blood to ice, yet it didn't justify what she had done. If she hadn't pushed him away onto Christian's knife he would still be alive. As horrifying as Henk's attack had been, she had no right to take a man's life. That was for God alone.

Tears blurred her eyes as she scrambled for the door wanting to put Marcus and his proposition as far behind her as she could. To lose Jamie would be more than she could bear and to be shackled to Marcus, a man she no longer liked, trusted, nor admired, a travesty. She would rather take her chances than settle for the dubious security he offered.

‘Charlotte! Where do you think you are going? I require an answer immediately.'

She turned to him and shook her head slowly. ‘Marcus, I can't. I —'

‘If you see fit to reject my offer I will inform the authorities. As a bonded servant, you have the remainder of your sentence to serve if you are no longer in my employ. There is also the question of the part you played in the murder of Henk.'

The threat in his words lingered in the air. Charlotte sensed her final opportunity and still she couldn't bring herself to accept. More from habit than anything else she reached to her neckline, searching for the comfort of her golden chain. Her hand came away empty. It was not there. Marcus had seen to that. He'd ripped away every link she shared with the past and this was his ultimate attempt to bind her. ‘So be it,' she said with as much dignity as she could muster. She closed the door quietly behind her envisaging another court appearance and a further sentence.

Charlotte clambered deck-side once more, her mind made up. Nothing could be done. She would take her chance with the courts again if she must and serve the remainder of her sentence. First though, she needed to know if Jamie's earlier promises still held firm. Once she'd served her sentence, would he come back for her? There was no golden Angel now to secure their future, but what did it matter if they were together?

Nestled amongst the numerous sailing ships the
Zephyrus
swung on her anchor, the wheel fastened and the sails furled signalling the end of her journey.

Charlotte peered over the side of the ship at the boat moored alongside containing a party of official-looking men, their uniforms marking their authority. For a moment her breath caught and her heartbeat quickened. Had they come for her already? She swung around searching for Christian.

Her panic subsided when she spotted him with his arms folded and his face devoid of expression, watching a boat making its way across the waves to one of the tiny islands in the harbour.

From the set of his shoulders and his rigid back she could tell he battled a thousand emotions, none he would share. Henk had come close to killing him, taking the ship and involving him in slave trading. How he'd managed to control himself and not kill the Dutchman at the first opportunity Charlotte had no idea. In his position most men would not have shown such restraint. How she wished she hadn't screamed, hadn't called him to her defence.

She crossed the deck and reached out her hand to him. His muscles tensed and his fists clenched but he made no other move. She touched his bronzed arm. ‘You must not blame yourself.'

After an elongated silence Christian muttered, ‘Perhaps.'

Charlotte dropped her hand and moved until she could look directly into his eyes. ‘Perhaps?'

‘Perhaps Henk was my conscience. Perhaps he was right.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I am a murderer. I am certain it is the reason I was thrown overboard from the
Lord Petre
. They say the first time is the hardest and after that…' He shrugged. ‘I should be on my way to Cockatoo Island.' He indicated to the island prison in the middle of the harbour. ‘I have a life sentence and I have murdered for a second time, maybe a third.'

‘Christian, you were never a murderer.'

‘I murdered Henk.'

‘Henk fell on your knife. Don't hold yourself responsible for his death. I am to blame. I pushed him away, onto your knife.'

‘You are not to blame for Henk's death any more than you were to blame for Elizabeth's death.'

‘And neither are you.'

‘But I don't know. I cannot remember!' He slammed his fist down, oblivious to the pain it must have caused. ‘I was sentenced to transportation for the murder of your sister. Isn't that proof enough?'

‘Christian. You didn't murder Elizabeth. I don't know what happened aboard the
Lord Petre
but I know you didn't murder Elizabeth.'

‘How do you know? I remember standing over her, covered in blood and a knife in my hands. Just the same way I stood over Henk. No man has the right to murder. I killed him, Charlotte.' He groaned, scrutinized his hands. ‘My hands were covered in Elizabeth's blood the same way my knife was covered in Henk's blood. I stood over her body, I remember her white skin and staring eyes. Your eyes…' He shook his head and closed his eyes, locking her out.

Charlotte raised her hand to his cheek, and despite his protest turned his face to hers. ‘You did not murder Elizabeth. You were with me and we found her body in the laneway behind St Martin's.' She gritted her teeth, willing back the anguish as the picture haunting her dreams for so long became a reality once more. ‘She was propped against the buttress and when you touched her she fell. She was already dead. You were searching for a pulse. Her neck had been cut. That is why your hands were covered in blood.'

‘But I was sentenced — accused of murder.'

‘Yes, accused and sentenced to transportation for life because no one could prove you had killed her. They lifted your sentence from murder to manslaughter. If you'd been guilty of murder, they would have hung you there and then, not transported you.'

The tension leached from Christian's body and he sank down onto the pile of crates stacked on the deck. ‘What else?'

‘You were taking the chain from around Elizabeth's neck. The chain I hung our Angel on, and the perfume bottle. My chain. Marcus ripped it from my neck and threw it overboard.'

The horrors of the past snatched her breath away and she clutched at her throat. She'd tried so hard to help him remember the past. The pain of the memories, Marcus' threats. The loss of her only possession. And Jamie… The tears welled and poured down her face. Not gentle tears. Great gulping sobs wracking her body and stealing her breath.

‘I lost everything,' she sobbed. ‘I lost Elizabeth. I lost you.' Charlotte's shoulders heaved as she dashed away her tears. ‘And now I've lost my only keepsake.'

‘Not everything, my angel.' Christian pulled her into his embrace and she dropped her head to his chest, revelling in his warmth and security. Then he tilted her chin and she gazed up at him. Her chain swung above her, just out of reach. The tiny cobalt bottle and coin dangled catching the sparks of sunlight and reflecting them onto his face.

With a shuddering sob she reached out her hand and clasped the chain in her damp palm. ‘Where did you find it?' She sniffed and wiped her hand across her face. ‘Marcus threw it away.' She brought the necklace to her lips.

‘And Cookie found it.' A dazzling smile lit his face and the promise in his nutmeg eyes stilled her tears.

Hiccupping back her sobs she slipped the chain over her head, relishing the familiar touch as it nestled between her breasts. She covered the bottle with her hand and Christian pulled her closer, his chin resting on her head, her cheek against his chest. The sun played on her back as the gentle swell of the ocean rocked her. All she'd searched for finally hers; this was where she belonged and where she wanted to be. She closed her eyes, the horrors of the past slipping into oblivion, washed away by the strength of his body and warmth of his love.

‘We have almost reached the end of our journey, Charlotte.'

‘Or maybe it is just the beginning,' she murmured. Now was the moment, now she would tell him. She plucked at his shirt, her forehead resting against his chest. ‘Christian, I don't want to disembark in Sydney with Marcus. I want to stay here with you aboard the
Zephyrus
. Come with you and take Mina and the girls home. I cannot marry Marcus. I have told him.'

Christian stretched out his arms and held her away from him, his eyes fixed firmly on her face. No crinkled laughter lines framed his eyes and his mouth made a grim determined line across his sun-darkened face. Try as she might she couldn't read his expression. He dropped his arms and sat down on the crates, his eyes level with hers. Something cold and hard settled in her chest and she reached for her chain, willing the tiny blue bottle and the Angel to keep her safe.

‘It cannot be.'

The three words sank into her consciousness and ripped her world apart.
It cannot be
. He didn't want her? ‘Why can it not be?' She swung around, searching to see who or what could have changed his mind. There was no one. Nothing. ‘I love you.' Her voice faltered. ‘We are meant to be together.'

Christian shook his head, once, and concentrated fiercely on jabbing the point of a rigging knife into the wooden crate he sat on.

A flash of anger streaked through her. ‘You promised me we would be together.' All her hopes and plans shattered by a single shake of his head. ‘You promised when we had served our sentences and were free we would never be parted, and we would use this…' She pulled the Angel coin up and dangled it angrily at him. ‘You said this would buy our future, our future together.' The volume of her voice rose, laced with an edge of hysteria. She loved him. She wanted to be by his side. For too many years she had waited for this moment and now it was not to be.

‘The Angel
will
buy your future, Charlotte, and as soon as your sentence is served you will be free to make your life in Sydney with Marcus, or return to England. I will bear the responsibility for Henk's death.' Christian sat up straight, studying some point beyond her right ear. ‘Now go and tell Marcus you are ready to go ashore. Bristol will row you to the wharf.'

‘And if I refuse?'

His lip quirked. ‘If you refuse I shall pick you up and sling you over my shoulder then dump you in the boat. You are going ashore, Charlotte. You cannot stay aboard.'

‘But Christian, Jamie...' Her voice rose to a scream as the cold wash of his words doused her.

‘No, Charlotte. Do as I say.'

She lifted her chin. The past meant nothing to him. Jamie
had
died. Christian did not want her. Not the way she wanted him. Taking one last long look at him, Charlotte tried to imprint on her mind the man Jamie had become. He stood legs apart, balanced and centred, his lean muscular body tensed, his sun-bleached hair blowing in the sea breeze and his nutmeg eyes, no longer crinkling with laughter, hard as mahogany and blazing with resolve. With her head held high and haughty she accepted her fate. ‘Christian, will you do one thing for me?'

‘What?'

‘Promise me you will return Mina and the girls to the Loyalty Islands.'

Charlotte didn't wait for his answer. He'd broken so many promises in the last moments she doubted he would do as he had agreed.