The Jezebel (16 page)

Beth shook her head. “No. We cannot go on this way. Neither of us will be safe. I’m ready, and I am weary of this life. All I wanted was to watch you grow. You’re a fine young woman now, so I am at peace to say goodbye to this life of mine.”

The ache in Maisie’s chest grew. Tears spilled from her eyes.

“You must go now. Please. I will pass on peacefully, knowing you are safe.”

Maisie couldn’t force herself to rise to her feet.

“Please, child. Go quickly.”

“I cannot.”

“You know you must. Hush now, be strong. Go to your kin, find them. They will keep you safe.”

My kin. Are they even alive?
Beth had said the right thing, for Maisie had to know. She forced herself to her feet, then bent to kiss her adoptive mother on the forehead. “I love you, Mama Beth.”

“And I love you. Make haste, my girl. And forgive me. I loved you very much, and I am guilty, too, for I didn’t want to lose you, either.”

It was hard to walk away from Beth’s bedside, but with her words echoing in her mind, Maisie managed those difficult first steps.

I did not want to lose you, either.
Cyrus didn’t want to lose her. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. That was his way. He had groomed her, and now it appeared he might even have assisted his wife’s untimely passage to the grave in order to have her.

Instead of going to the opera, she had to leave that very day. She couldn’t meet Cyrus and be seen on his arm like a jewel he had secretly been polishing until he could bring it out and show it off to London, while his wife died alone in her bed.

Maisie dressed in her plainest gown and covered it with a somber cloak. She’d already decided it would be too risky to hire a carriage to take her north, for it would be a long, slow journey and Cyrus would be fast on her trail. She might never reach Scotland and her kin if she went that way. Instead, she determined that the best way, the quickest way, was to go by sea.

That afternoon she set off on foot and then hired a carriage to take her to the docks. There she sought word of vessels that were bound for Scotland.

She heard mention of the
Libertas
at the dockyards. She made note of the captain’s name. The vessel was due to sail on the late tide, but she could find no one who would tell her if it would take a passenger. She couldn’t afford to wait and secure passage, and she couldn’t return to Cyrus. He would not be happy, for he had invested much in her, years of his time, including his future. But she couldn’t be part of it.

Forced to act quickly, she returned to the house to avert suspicion. The closer to the turn of the tide she waited, the safer it would be.

After her maid dressed her for the opera, Maisie gathered together a few cherished possessions, what little jewels and coin she had, thanks to Beth, and the sacred objects that would keep her magic safe and rich. Then she pulled on her cloak and made her way out of the house, leaving by the servants’ entrance before the coach could be called to take her to Cyrus.

If the
Libertas
had already sailed, or the captain refused to take her, she would have to go back, attend the opera and find another way to leave, another day.

Maisie could scarcely bear to consider that option, and fixed her hopes and her will on escape. Not since the day of her mother’s death—the day she’d been taken from Scotland—had Maisie Taskill known such intense fear and dread.

For the first time she would be without her protector, alone with her forbidden craft and vulnerable to discovery. The unknown path ahead loomed dark and foreboding, with danger lurking at every hidden turn. And yet it was eminently preferable to staying at Cyrus Lafayette’s side.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“It’s true enough, that Jezebel did something ungodly down there.” Brady shook his head and looked at Roderick with a warning in his eyes.

The fact that Brady had adopted Clyde’s name for Maisie annoyed Roderick almost as much as the fact that they were accusing her of witchcraft. “Caring for an injured man is ungodly?”

“She did more than care for him. She sang awhile, but there were words in there that none of the men understood. And Adam...why, he scarcely breathed at all, let alone cried out when she straightened his hand.”

The captain sighed. The men were troubled, and a large group of them had gathered on deck to confront him, for the word had passed quickly amongst them about what Maisie had done. As if they hadn’t troubles enough. The lad could have been killed, the rigging had been damaged, and Roderick had only just set the sails to rights. Now this nonsense.

While he was busy overseeing repairs he’d caught sight of Maisie emerging from the hatch that led to the men’s quarters. He’d assumed—correctly, it seemed—that she’d gone to Adam’s aid. Yet now the men were doubting what she’d done, and her intentions. As he thought back on it he recalled that she’d scurried off to his cabin immediately after the accident, without seeking him out, which had struck him as odd.

Not odd enough to cause this mood amongst the men.

“Adam gave himself a fright, and he probably fell dumb when he thought about what he’d done and what might have happened,” Roderick clarified. “He was too eager, and realized what a fool he made of himself. You should be grateful he isn’t as badly hurt as we thought.”

Roderick didn’t like the way they were talking about Maisie, and he’d heard one of them whisper something about getting rid of her. It troubled him greatly, because when something stirred them up this much it was difficult to keep them in check.

“Witchcraft is what it is.” Brady shook his head. “It’s not right, I tell you. Gilhooly said he saw her wrap Adam’s hand in some strange dark thing, and there were whispered chants, words that had no known meaning to good God-fearing folk. What does that tell you?”

“We woke the lad from his slumber after she’d gone,” one of the other men added, “and an unnatural sleep it was, too. He remembered her being there and thought it a dream. When we asked him about it, he remembered nothing of his hand being fixed, but said he dreamed he was in a beautiful place. He’d felt the sun on his face and warm grass at his back, and he wanted to stay and sleep there.”

“Dream?” another man stated. “A nightmare is more likely, if she is what you say she is.”

Roderick sighed again. How quickly the whispered suspicions grew into so much more than what they first appeared.

Brady’s frown grew. “We had to reassure Adam that it was not a dream. It took some amount of rum for him to be able to rest.”

Roderick’s patience was wearing thin. “If he hadn’t had so much rum the previous night the lad wouldn’t have been so reckless in the first place.”

He glared at his crew. As he looked over the crowd, he noticed that Clyde was there, but said nothing. He was the one who’d started this speculation about Maisie, and yet he was observing the other men while remaining silent. Roderick wondered what thoughts were in his mind.

That could wait. His first responsibility was for the safety of the ship, and for that he needed the men content.

He took his responsibilities seriously, and he was concerned on many fronts. The young Dutchman should likely have been given a bit more responsibility earlier, for he’d grown bored and hotheaded doing laundry and peeling potatoes. Moreover, Roderick now felt he should have supervised the tending of Adam’s injury himself, then all this nonsense would have been put to rest. Most worrying of all, he felt the wild urge to put up his fists when anyone made suggestions about Maisie’s good intentions. That was no way for a ship’s captain to act, and yet he could not help himself. It was because she was his responsibility, as well. As captain, that was the way of it. Reasoning with himself, he paced up and down.

“I order you back to your duties. I will quiz our passenger on this matter. Meanwhile, we will have no more of this nonsense. The injury was minor, and he is young and healthy and will heal. Now rest your heads and I’m sure by sunrise you’ll see there is no cause to worry. If not, we will convene again then and I will hear you out. Those of you not on duty go below deck and be ready for your watches.”

With a few grumbles here and there the men dispersed.

Clyde remained.

“Clyde?”

“Captain.”

“You have something to say now. I noticed you said nothing before.”

Clyde considered him at length. “You care for the lassie.”

Roderick couldn’t tell if it was a criticism. The man’s tone gave nothing away. The comment did, however, make him think on it, which was perhaps the old sailor’s intention. In that moment he couldn’t answer with conviction, so he answered by logic. “She is a passenger. Therefore she is my responsibility, every bit as much as you men are.”

“If she is practicing witchcraft on this ship, we are carrying more than a passenger.”

Roderick’s gut knotted. “You clearly think the accusations are true.”

Again Clyde thought on his words. “If she is, it does not mean her intentions are wicked. If I thought they were, I’d be the first one to have her walk the plank.”

“No one will be walking the plank while I’m running this ship.” He spoke between gritted teeth and his chest grew tight.

Clyde lifted his shoulders and for the briefest moment a smile passed over his mouth, as if something had been confirmed in his mind. “Many healers hail from the Highlands, is all I am saying.”

Roderick calmed somewhat. “A healer, is that what you think?”

Clyde nodded. “And many of our men have begged for healers when we have been in foreign lands, regardless of what magic and strange potions might be used on them.”

“True enough. You’ve made a good point. Thank you.”

“Whatever happens, be careful not to let your affections cloud your reasoning, Captain.”

Roderick was about to respond when Clyde turned and limped away.

With a few well-chosen comments, the old sailor had sent him into a pit of confusion. The argument about healers was a good one, though. Healing was a gift. Clyde meant well and was a canny observer.

For some time, Roderick remained rooted to the spot, wondering if he’d developed affections for Maisie, and if that was indeed clouding his judgment.

He wasn’t able to deny it.

She did call to him, but that was because he’d never known a woman like her in his life, and she made him feel vital, as if his course in life was clearer. Was that the nature of a woman’s lure? It troubled him greatly. Why, he’d even warned Gregor Ramsay to be wary of a woman’s lure when Gregor had left the ship six months earlier. And yet he’d now forsaken his own advice.

I am the captain of this ship. I will not fail.
No woman was going to make him lose his good sense and his command of the men. His brain was addled because of the pleasurable tousles they shared, that was all, and Roderick knew he must keep his head. Yes, that was what Clyde was telling him.

Roderick stayed above deck overseeing the night watch for a full hour before he retired, filling his thoughts with matters of ship routine. But as soon as he prepared to make his way down to the cabin, caution ran alongside the rife curiosity that was always in his blood. What would he say to her? Would it be necessary to quiz her about what she had done?

He paused to collect some provisions from the locked store, realizing that she mustn’t have eaten since they left Lowestoft. Even that caused him to worry over her. It was nothing he had experienced before, this concern for a woman’s welfare. The sooner he delivered her to her destination the better.

Maisie rose from the bed, where she’d obviously been sitting, awaiting his arrival. When he held out the apple and the hunk of cheese he’d brought for her, she nodded and thanked him, but did not reach for the food.

He could see the tension in her expression, and he longed to hold her in his arms. There it was, unbidden and instant. His inability to step away from her remained, despite the unrest going on all around them. “I’m sorry I didn’t come down earlier. There was much to see to above deck.”

“I’m afraid it was all my fault, what happened with Adam.”

Roderick frowned. It was the last thing he expected her to say, and it unsettled him greatly. He set the food down nearby, hoping she would eat later. “Why so?”

“I encouraged him to leave me with the cooking pot until it had to go below, and that meant he was tempted to try other tasks that appealed to him.”

Relieved she meant nothing more sinister than that, he stepped over to her and wrapped his hands around her shoulders so that he might study her while they talked. “It wasn’t your fault, don’t think that. Adam is often ahead of himself. I should have taken charge of his supervision myself weeks ago. It was time to give him some mannish work to engage him.”

Studying her, he could see that particular worry was not the only thing on her mind. She seemed fretful and the glance she gave him was beseeching. It took him back to their first encounter. She’d been so much stronger since then, and he hated to see her look this way again. Was it because she sensed the crew mistrusted her?

A chill went up his spine, a feeling of fear for her. Even if it were true what they said about her, he could not believe she would harm them. “Why so fretful, my lady?”

“What did they say about me?” She blurted out the question and wrung her hands together as she spoke.

“Fear not. It’s only the men growing restless about your presence. I did warn you.”

Her expression did not change.

He smiled, attempting to put her at ease. “You’re a woman, and you made them feel inadequate with your good and kind care, tending Adam’s injury the way you did. Having a woman aboard is no easy thing. It is a betrayal to some of the men. Many of them will mistrust you. Most of them will desire you.”

His gaze drifted over her body, and he imagined how he might feel if he was watching and wanting, while only one man amongst them was able to take her to his bed. It was little wonder the mood was tense.

“Roderick, please do not think badly of me. I care very much for your good opinion.”

“Hush now, I don’t think badly of you.” It was important to her that he hadn’t been turned against her. Roderick knew why: he was her protector aboard this vessel. He didn’t flatter himself it was more than that. This woman had been desperate to travel to Scotland when she offered herself to him. He couldn’t believe that she might ever harbor any affection for him or care for him. It was a lucky encounter, for him. He had enjoyed her immensely. For her it was only a necessity, a bargain struck. The mystery surrounding her actions and her reason to leave London in such haste was something he might never fathom. Almost everything about her had remained a mystery. Unless her secret was indeed witchcraft... He wasn’t afraid of her, even though some of the crew thought he should be.

“What did the men say?” she repeated.

She would not rest until she knew.

He kissed her forehead. “You should sing more.”

“Roderick...”

“I’m serious. When you sing to them above deck you have their hearts.”

“And when I do not sing to them all?” Stubbornly, she pursued the subject.

“It’s something and nothing. Some of the men have it in their heads that you used Pictish words, and that’s not a good sign.”

Her eyelids dropped and she pulled free of his embrace, stepping aside. “It’s only because they are words my mother said to me.”

Roderick wondered how old she was. It was the first time the question had occurred to him. He had the suspicion she was younger than he’d at first assumed. Her solemn eyes and her serious approach—and that wily bargain coming from her lips—had made her seem older. “Are you going back to your mother in Scotland?”

She shook her head. “My mother died when I was a child. It was a cruel death, too, one that my siblings and I were forced to witness.” Maisie took a deep breath and met his gaze again. “The old words make me feel closer to her, and to my beginnings. That is all.”

Her eyes flickered and for a moment Roderick had the odd feeling that she was not telling him the whole truth. He wanted the truth. He also wanted her. The two combined to make his lust ruthless, and he felt as if he truly could fuck the truth out of her, given long enough.

Ashamed of himself for such a base reaction, he turned aside and reached for the bottle of rum that was wedged between the maritime books on one of the lower shelves. Swigging heavily from it, he offered it to her. When she declined, he had her portion, as well.

She pushed her hair back from her face. “Do they think it means I am bad in some way? Because I know some of the old Pictish songs and sayings?”

Would she confide if he was more honest? “It raises their mistrust.”

His own level of trust was far from stable when it came to this woman, and yet Roderick still wanted her. Wanted her with a passion. The movement of her fingers through her hair as she eased it back made him want to do that, to have her sitting in his lap while he studied and explored her.

“And you? Do you mistrust me?” Her expression was challenging in its intensity, almost as if she wanted him to confess he did.

“I know nothing of you, Maisie, not even your family name. And when I try to understand you, you battle me every step of the way. That’s what makes this situation difficult for me.”

Her lower lip trembled. “Forgive me. My family name is Taskill. Maisie Taskill. I didn’t tell you before because I thought it would be safer for you that way. A powerful man wanted me for his own, and if he discovers who it was that aided my escape from London, he will show no mercy. I said nothing about myself because I didn’t want to endanger you or your men.”

Their gazes locked, and it seemed as if nothing else existed to him, only her and the way she looked at him, as if his good opinion of her was the most important thing in the world. He felt that way, too. While the circumstances that brought them together had been uneasy, he had managed them well enough. Now it felt as if everything around them was in danger of fracturing. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but even if he kept the crew in check until he could get her ashore in Scotland, the men did not trust her and wanted rid of her, and that tore him apart.