Authors: Bonds of Love
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Nineteenth Century, #Civil War
"Well,
I shall have a talk with that young man."
"Oh,
no, please don't. He won't listen to you, and I'm afraid he might harm you to
keep you from helping me. I think you ought to just leave the ship, and when
you get off, get the police and come back. They won't engage in combat with the
English, surely."
"All
right, Katherine. Don't worry—we will rescue you. I will leave now, before
someone sees me here talking to you. Stay calm."
"I
will," Katherine said, triumph surging through her. She snapped her
fingers at the room as if he stood there—that would show him, all right. She
would outwit him, after all. She laughed with delight and threw herself onto
the bed, where she lay back and happily contemplated her victory over him.
The
doctor was not quite as cheerful. He realized that it would not be as simple as
Katherine thought. He did not think the English police would be too eager to
board the ship of one nation to recover a citizen of a second nation that was
at war with the first. Or would it be a matter for the military? Certainly the
Americans would not be allowed to board it in a neutral port. It had all the
makings of an international incident, especially with two such hotheads as
Hampton and Miss Devereaux involved. He imagined the British would enjoy having
it dropped in their lap about as much as if it were a hot potato.
He
decided to approach the captain first and feel out the situation. Perhaps it
was not as bad as the young lady had painted it. He went to search out Hampton
and found him near the bow of the ship.
"Well,
Captain," he said cheerfully. "Almost there, eh?"
"Yes.
We should dock late this afternoon."
"Good.
Good. I shall be more than happy to escort Miss Devereaux to London."
"Oh?
That is very kind of you, but it won't be necessary."
"Ah,
then you are escorting her yourself?"
"No
one is escorting her; she's not going to London."
"Indeed?
Why not? You can't be planning to force her to remain here!"
"But
of course not," Hampton replied coolly. "She has decided not to
leave."
"She
has?"
"Women
do change their minds, you know, even ones like Katherine. I think she has
realized how little she has to return to."
"Oh,
I see." Rackingham fell silent. To confront his lie, Rackingham would have
to reveal that he knew the truth. Katherine was probably right; if he was
capable of kidnapping and ravishing her, the doctor doubted that he would
hesitate to incapacitate one old man in order to save himself. And it would do
Katherine no good at all if he was out of operation. The best thing to do was
to pretend to believe the captain's story and execute Katherine's plan. So he said,
"Well, then, I guess that I will leave the vessel by myself. You have been
a most considerate host, even though rather forced on me. I shall look forward
to meeting you at some future time, when we are no longer at war."
"I,
too," Hampton replied politely. "I have enjoyed your company and am
most grateful for your medical assistance."
The
older man bowed and moved away. Hampton watched him return to his cabin and his
gray eyes narrowed in thought. He did not trust the doctor. The old man had
accepted the story too quickly, without even a murmur of protest or a demand to
hear it from Katherine herself. And he had not even mentioned a desire to bid
Katherine farewell. The good doctor was up to something. It would be prudent to
have him watched.
"Peljo!"
he roared and when that grinning little man appeared, he said, "I think we
may need to impede Rackingham somewhat. Nothing serious. Just a light tap on
the head perhaps as he leaves the docks and a few days shut away in a room
somewhere."
"Will
do, Captain. I have a friend in Liverpool who's just the man for the job."
"I
am sure you do," Hampton said dryly. "But, remember, no harm is to
come to him."
"Aye,
Captain."
Matthew
and Katherine spent an uncomfortable evening together in the midst of the
fruits of her destruction. Katherine maintained a cold silence, but Hampton
thought he detected a hint of smugness in her stance that confirmed his
suspicions that something was afoot. He simply kept his face stripped of all
expression. They slept the night in the same bed, but coldly and separately.
Dr.
Rackingham spent a more unpleasant evening, however. First Hampton delayed
him—quite unnecessarily, he thought—on the ship for over an hour. Then he had
to wend his way through the crowded, noisome Liverpool docks at dusk. Suddenly
a large, hard, painted old woman stepped into his path and swayed her hips in a
pathetic attempt at seductiveness.
"
'Ey, mister, wanta 'ave some fun?" she cawed.
Just
as he started to step around her, he felt a sudden crack of pain at the back of
his head, and he slumped to the ground.
When
he came to, he found himself lying on a lumpy bed in a cramped, dirty room. He
groaned and sat up slowly, trying to collect his scattered wits. Cautiously he
edged off the bed and tottered to the door. It was locked from the outside.
Turning, he went to the small window; it, too, would not budge, and it was so
coated with grime that he could not see out. He sighed and returned to the bed
where he ingloriously passed out again.
Katherine
found that she was much more able to make Peljo suffer than his captain.
Heretofore, her relationship with the monkeyish little man had been warm and
friendly. He was very fond of her and thought her the first woman he had ever
met who was suitable for Matthew. They had joked and laughed; he had taught her
to use a knife. He would have sworn himself to die to protect her if need be.
But now he was her jailer, commanded by one to whom he had greater loyalty, and
Katherine turned against him the wrath she usually reserved for Matthew. Every
time he unlocked the door and brought in her tray of food, she greeted him in
icy silence, despite his jocular efforts to converse with her. She simply
looked at him as if he had turned into a toad or a snake. He cajoled her, made
excuses, cut jokes, all to no avail. After three days of this treatment, he
revised his estimation of Hampton—he had more courage than Peljo had thought to
have been able to stand this sort of treatment for so long.
However,
after three days, Katherine was getting so worried, she decided to unbend in
order to pump Peljo for information. She was afraid that something had happened
to Dr. Rackingham. Otherwise, surely the police would have been here by now to
rescue her. It occurred to her that perhaps the doctor had been stupid enough
to confront the captain with his knowledge. If that were so, it wouldn't
surprise her to find that Hampton had callously done away with the old man. She
spent many hours worrying about the condition of his health and regretting that
she had involved him in her troubles; she should not have asked anyone else to
fight the captain when she had such a difficult time of it herself. After a
time, though, she realized that the doctor's absence, whatever the reason,
meant that she was once again on her own. If only she knew for certain what had
happened to Rackingham—
"Peljo."
For the first time since docking in Liverpool she addressed him when he brought
her supper. "How long will Captain Hampton be gone?"
"Dunno,
Miss Kate," Peljo replied, happy to be back in her good graces.
"Depends on how long it takes him to get us a ship."
"Oh,
is he going to steal a British ship now?" she couldn't resist asking.
Peljo
grinned. "No, ma'am, not unless he has to."
Katherine
had to laugh, in spite of herself.
"He
has to get some instructions if he can and hopefully the ship they was building
for us before we got caught. It's like piloting in a fog, you see—can't get
word in or out of the South. The captain's always fighting his own little
war."
"I
am sure that is the way he prefers it." She paused, frowning. "Peljo,
has he done anything to Dr. Rackingham? Has he hurt him?"
Peljo
assumed an air of innocence. "Dr. Rackingham?"
"Peljo,
please tell me. Did he kill that dear old gentleman?"
"Good
God, no, Miss Kate. Don't you know the captain better than that?"
"No,
I don't. It seems to me very much like something he would do."
"Oh,
Miss Kate, you're too hard on the captain. He wouldn't kill the doctor, after
the way he worked to help save our wounded, and knowing what a special friend
of yours he is."
"I
think he is in danger
because
he's my friend."
"Then
you did have a plan cooked up!"
"Peljo,"
she said sternly, "for Heaven's sake, tell me."
"The
old doctor's all right, ma'am; he's just where he can't get to the authorities.
As soon as he got off the ship, a ruffian just happened to kidnap him, and he's
sitting very safe and sound right now in a locked room."
Suddenly
her knees felt like rubber and she sat down heavily in a chair. It was true,
then, what she had suspected—there would be no help coming. She was all on her
own against him. Despair washed over her. She could not hope to escape him; he
defeated her at every turn.
Peljo
felt a little frightened at the pale, broken look on her face.
"Ma'am—" he began tentatively.
"I
hate him," she whispered. "I hate him. Why does he torture me so? I
can't stand being locked in here; I shall go mad. He despises me; he does
nothing but abuse me."
"Miss
Kate, that's not so!" Peljo exclaimed, shocked.
"Isn't
it? He knows what it's like to be imprisoned; he knows how locking me in here
would make me feel. Can you call that anything but cruel?"
"This
cabin is hardly like the prison me and the captain was in."
"It's
a prison nonetheless!" Katherine flared. "How can you defend him? He
treats me as if I were his possession, his property, like a horse or a piece of
land or a slave. He stole me! He raped me! And now he refuses to release me,
locks me in here like a dog in its kennel."
"Oh,
no, ma'am, he didn't
want
to lock you up like this!"
Katherine
gave him a withering look. "I suppose someone forced him to?" she
said bitingly. Her rush of anger had given her back her strength, cleared her
head. After all, it wasn't Hampton she had to overcome; it was Peljo. The
captain was far away in London. By the time he learned of her escape, she would
be safe with the police, and he would not be able to get to her. All she had to
do was overcome Peljo. Her mind raced while outwardly she kept her face set in
weary, bitter lines.
"He
just couldn't let you go, ma'am. I have never seen him so taken with any other
woman."
She
got up and began to pace the room distractedly, glancing around her in a
seemingly vague and distraught way. In reality, her sharp eyes were searching
for some heavy object to use to stun her jailer; her gaze fell upon the heavy
crystal decanter on Hampton's desk. She moved toward it slowly, keeping up her
act of despair.
"Then
why treat me so? Oh, Peljo, I am at my wits' end." She turned to face him
and stealthily slipped one hand behind to grasp the heavy bottle.