Wings of the Morning (Kensington Chronicles) (20 page)

find Harvey Blanchard approaching. Dallas took the space of a

heartbeat to cover his surprise and extend his hand

"Hello, Harvey. What brings you out this cold day?"

"I take a walk along here most days. Sometimes I stop to

take time to think." Harvey stopped speaking, and both men

stared at the ship in silence.

"Will you ever be in operation again?" Harvey voiced the

question he had often pondered in the past.

"I hope to be," Dallas answered and turned slightly to

study the younger man without appearing to do so. He remembered

him of course, but seeing him brought back a

clearer picture. He was tall and slim, with keen brown eyes

and a serious brow. He and Kathleen had been several years

behind him in school, but Dallas did recall that Harvey had

been more than a little precocious.

"In fact," Dallas continued, "I sail next week, and when I

return I hope I'll be in better shape to assess that possibility."

"Great," Harvey told him sincerely. "If you've a need for

investors, my uncle is always looking for opportunities."

"Thanks, Harvey, but I'd like to continue on my own for as

long as I'm able."

"I can understand that. I'm the same way."

The men fell silent, and Dallas prayed How could he bring

Kathleen up without looking obvious? He quickly concluded

that uncomfortable or not, he had to give it a try.

"It's a bit ironic that you came by today, Harvey. I mean,

Kathleen mentioned you when I saw her a few weeks ago."

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"Are you still seeing Kathleen?" Harvey asked, and Dallas]

wondered if he detected a note of sadness in his tone.

"Actually, we're just friends. But she mentioned you with

fondness, and I thought it was funny that after she said something,

you came by."

"It's unfortunate."

"What is?"

"I don't know exactly. I cared for Kathleen, but there were

some things I couldn't get comfortable with."

"Sometimes things are not exactly as they appear," Dallas

told him softly. Harvey stared at him. "I know she misses you."

"Are you saying she might welcome a visit from me?"

"She talked about going to see her aunt, but if she's home, I

know she'd like to see you."

Again Harvey stared "And you're sure I'm not stepping

t>etween the two of you?"

Dallas smiled "I'm sure. There's someone else, and Kathleen

knows all about that."

A small smile lifted the corners of Harvey's mouth as his

hand came out. The men shook. "Best of luck to you when you

sail, Dallas, and with your someone else. Thanks for telling

me about Kathleen."

Dallas nodded and shifted his eyes back over the water

when Harvey moved away. He answered even though Harvey

was already out of earshot many yards away.

'You're welcome, Harvey. I hope you and Kathleen work

things out." He fell silent then as his thoughts turned to his

own "someone else."

london

"We're loaded, Captain," Robby reported to Smokey and

waited for her orders.

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"Thanks, Rob. Tell Pete and Nate they're on watch and tell

rsey I want to go to Clancy's Place."

'Will do," Robby replied and shut her door. She threw the

ibolt and began to change. She was feeling rather tired, but it

would be some time before she was back here, and even

though they were running behind schedule, she wanted to see

Bart and Meg.

An hour later the group left the ship. The men knew very

well they were welcome to go elsewhere, but they loved

Clancy's, so following Darsey and Smokey was more than Just

habit.

The usual exchange of conversation and coin took place

inside, and before long, Smokey and her crew were seated

around the back table with plates of food and mugs of tea or

ale.

Halfway through the evening, Meg reappeared She dropped

her considerable bulk down at the far end of the table and

beckoned to Smokey with one finger.

"AVe told Bart he can 'andle things for a spell. I want to

talk with me girl."

Smokey smiled at her friend, who wasn't really old enough

to be a mother to her but had always treated her with maternal

care.

"Where's that good-looking sailor ya had with ya last

time?"

"Dallas," Smokey supplied "He was just with us for the

one voyage."

"More's the pity. I thought there might be something a

cookin' there."

"Oh, Meg," Smokey laughed "You're a hopeless romantic"

Tm romantic! 'ear her talk!" the older woman exclaimed

"/ wasn't the one a gawkin* at ya with calf's eyes the whole

evenin'."

"He was not," Smokey told her and laughed at Meg's

round-eyed expression.

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'Ya spend too much time in the salty air, love. He could

barely keeps 'is eyes from ya. In truth, he didn't even try."

"Do you mean that, Meg?" Smokey had grown as serious as

her hostess.

"I've been working in this tavern for many a year, love, and

I know a smitten man when I sees 'im. He was gone, I tells ya."

Meg reached and tugged the braid that fell down Smokey's

back "And you've never worn your 'air down afore this bloke

sailed with ya. I says ya feels the same for 'im."

Ahuge smile broke across Smokey's face, and Meg cackled

with glee. They talked on, run talk, girl talk, until Bart shouted

for Meg from the main room.

"'is lordship bellows," Meg said and rolled her eyes, but

she rose without further ado and went to him. Smokey had j ust

stood to move back to her place with the men when she

realized her tea was visiting her and she would need to excuse

herself for a moment.

"Are you ready to go?" Darsey asked

"No. I hope Meg will come back in, but right now I need to

step out."

"Watch yourself," Darsey called to her, but Smokey's head

was in the clouds. The mate watched her go before turning

back to listen to Scully. When five minutes passed and she had

not returned, he began to study his pocket watch. When two

more minutes passed and there was still no sign of her, Darsey

came to his feet in a flash. He checked Meg's private rooms

and found them empty. He and the crew hit the main tavern at

a full run, and on his shout the room quieted.

"Smokey!"

A murmur went around the room before a man cried out.

"That table in the corner is empty, and there were two

men sitting there not five minutes back."

Darsey didn't answer. He ran for the door and out onto the

docks, many men behind him. Frustration rose within him

over the moonless night, but still he ran, telling himself he'd

find her if he had to tear those docks apart.

the sack that had been thrown over Smokey's head, as

well as the sweet-smelling cloth that had been held over her

mouth, were suffocating. Only moments passed before she

lost consciousness, making her unaware for the remainder of

the night that she had been carried and deposited onto a

strange bed in a strange cabin on a ship she'd never seen

before

When she did awaken, it was getting light--that much she

knew without having to look. Her head was pounding, and she

didn't want to open her eyes, but she told herself she must try.

Something wasn't right.

Trying to sort out what felt so wrong, she realized she must

have dozed off before telling Darsey that she wanted to go to

Clancy's. Smokey's eyes flew open with a start. She'd already

been to Clancy's and talked with Meg. On her way back from

the "necessary," someone had grabbed her!

From her place on the bed, Smokey let her eyes roam. She

was in a huge cabin; it was at least four of her own and garishly

decorated in red and black. She'd never seen anything like it.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she caught sight of a

nearly life-size statue in the corner. It was anaked woman, her

arms raised seductively over her head

Realizing the entire room was full of such "art," Smokey

sat up slowly. On the wall opposite her was a painting of a man

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and a woman in an intimate scene. Smokey's face flamed as] she looked at it, and her heart fought down the panic rising:

within her.

She tossed off the quilt someone had lain over her and

swung her feet off the side of the bed Aglance out the window

told her they were docked, but before she could think to call

for help, her head began to hurt so badly that she was forced to

close her eyes again.

Questions as to where they might be, and who had taken

her and why, swarmed her befuddled mind. Her head pounded

on until she knew she would have to lie back down or be sick.

Even after her head hit the pillow, questions surfaced, but no

answers followed Fight as she might, sleep was crowding in

once again.

f _ .*.-

ourrcu again many hours later. "I had begun to despair of ever

seeing your eyes; they are as lovely as I imagined"

Smokey had come fully awake at the sound of that voice

and moved herself backward on the bed until she was pressed

stiffly against the headboard

A huge man with sandy brown hair and a boyish smile sat

in the chair nearest the statue. He seemed as composed and

pleased as if he were entertaining a close friend and not a

woman he had abducted

"Who are you?" Smokey managed

The big man's eyes twinkled, and he stood Bowing from

the waist, he spoke.

"Haamich Wynn at your service, my dear. I'm sorry our

first encounter had to be so rough, but I promise to make it up

to you." This said, he again took a seat.

"Haamich Wynn?" Smokey asked "The pirate?"

Inordinately pleased that she had evidently heard of him,

his grin widened

"One and the same. Now, my dear, you have me at a

image. I know your nickname is Smokey, but I wish to

your real and full name."

"Why?"

"Well, my dear," he spoke as if it were obvious. "We're

going to become intimately acquainted, and I want to know

'what I should call you."

Smokey was silent.

"Oh, my dear," the pirate spoke, his voice tender, almost

hurt, "you're not going to talk with me? How can we ever

be.. .friends--" he said the word with a malicious grin--"if

you don't talk to me?"

"Friends?" Smokey questioned flatly, not at all impressed

with his smooth tone.

"Oh, yes, my dear," the pirate chuckled, "we'll be very good friends."(

It was all said with such smooth confidence that Smokey's

fear escalated until she thought it would choke her. He was

serious, dead serious.

"Now," he went on in that same easy tone. "Most women

do not like surprises, so I'm going to tell you about the

remainder of the evening. You're going to tell me what I want

to know, and then I'm going to leave and give you some time to

get used to the idea of our friendship"

"Speak plainly." Smokey's eyes smoldered with disgust.

"It is not for friendship that you keep me here."

An amused smile turned up the corners of the pirate's lips.

"As you can see," he nodded his head toward a tray of food,

ignoring her words, "I've ordered some food for you, but I

imagine you're too upset to eat. After I leave you, I'll want you

to change. When I come back, we'll continue to talk, but at that

time we won't be separated by the space of this room; in fact

there won't be anything separating us at all.

"And one last thing," Haamich's voice dropped, and his

eyes lost their sparkle. "I want you to keep in mind that I can force you to do anything I wish... but I'd rather not."

142

The pirate fell silent to allow his guest to digest this

was satisfied with the fear he saw in Smokey's eyes.

"Now about those questions. Well, first I wish you to stand]

up. Come now," his voice grew persuasive. "I'll not touch you,

yet. Just get off the bed and let me see you."

Smokey, still shaking so badly she thought she might be

sick, came stiffly off the bed She watched his eyes move

slowly over her and when she would have folded her arms

over her chest, forced them back to her sides at the slow

negative shaking of his head.

"Take the tie off your braid," he instructed her. Smokey

looked down to see that the braid had fallen over her shoulder

to lay across her breast. With trembling fingers, she complied

"That's it," he encouraged "Now shake your head so your

hair falls free. Oh, yes, I guessed that your hair would be one

of your lovelier assets, although I'm sure you have many. Now,

you may sit down again if you wish and tell me your name."

Smokey did sit, her hair now a riot about her shoulders and

back, but she did not reveal her name.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you I want to

leave this ship."

"You're right, no good at all. Your name?"

"What if I were to offer you money?" Smokey tried

Haamich Wynn laughed in true amusement. "I've found

you, Smokey, and you're mine. Now for the last time, your

name" His tone changed just slightly and the smile evaporated

Smokey saw no hope for it.

"Victoria Simmons."

'Victoria. I like it, but I also like the name Smokey, so

while you're changing I'll decide what I'm going to call you.

How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"Really," he seemed truly amazed "I'd have guessed younger.

And an innocent, no doubt?"

Smokey's breath caught in her chest, and she blushed to

the roots of her hair. Her captor's smile became very tender as

did his voice. "That more than answers my question."

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*Without giving her time to say the angry words that were

Icaught in her throat, he stood. Smokey stiffened, but he did

loot approach. Going to one of two wardrobes, he opened the

-

Smokey could see, even from a distance, that it was very near

her size.

"Now," he spoke as he laid the dress across the chair he

had vacated "I'll leave you to change. When I return, I will

collect the clothes you're wearing, so don't bother trying to

hide them. I actually like you in trousers, but I prefer my

women to look like women."

"How many of us are there?" Smokey finally spat in fury,

which oddly enough seemed to please her companion.

"There have been many, I will admit to that. But after

seeing you, my dear; well, I have quite frankly lost my heart."

"So I'm supposed to be flattered by this abduction?"

"Indeed," he told her sincerely. "Now, do change, my little

love, because if you don't put the dress on, I'll put it on you

myself, and I don't think you want that."

He gave her no further chance to reply, but exited. Smokey

heard him lock the door from out in the passageway. She

stared at the door before her eyes fell on the dress. Bile rose in

her throat.

"I don't know what else to do," Smokey began to sob, even

as she unbuttoned her tunic. "Please help me, Lord," she cried

as she undressed and quickly slipped into the dress. She had

left her trousers on, but the dress was so tight-fitting around

the waist that she couldn't button it without removing them.

She felt utterly bare in only the dress, her underdrawers,

and boots, but she feared what he might do should he come

back and find she had disobeyed. As she buttoned the last

button at the neckline, she stared in horror at her front,

lugging and pulling, she searched for more fabric that might

be hidden, but it was no use. It was the most revealing gown