Captured

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Captured Page 23

by Beverly Jenkins


  “Let me go!”

  Clare wanted to fall to her knees and beg but knew it wouldn’t change things.

  The amused Sylvie told Clare, “Who knew that when Paul and I met in Jamaica and found we had a mutual dislike for your lover, that we’d both be able to extract our revenge on him through you? Now we can all sit back and laugh at the idea of him searching frantically for you, but not knowing where to look. I’ll bet his bastard heart will break.”

  “Speaking of bastards, she may be breeding,” Violet informed them while she placed the bag of gold in her small knit handbag.

  As he scanned what he could see of Clare’s still flat belly within her cloak, Vanweldt’s eyes took on an evil glow. “Even better.”

  No one noticed Dot edging towards the road that ran by the front of the shop. Suddenly she bolted into the thick midday traffic, dodging wagons and carriages.

  “Get back here!” Violet screamed and took off after her, but she was so angry and focused she didn’t look first, and ran directly into the path of a fast-moving wagon being pulled by four thundering horses. The impact threw her up in the air and then under their powerful hooves. By the time the surprised driver pulled back on the reins it was too late. Passersby hurried to the scene. Sylvie reached her first. The numb Clare watched Sylvie kneel over Violet’s broken corpse, ostensibly to check for vital signs, but in reality she was placing her handbag atop Violet’s. She deftly picked up both, keeping Violet’s smaller one hidden beneath her own. A man claiming to be a doctor came running up, and Sylvie quickly but smoothly backed free of the people now circling the kneeling doctor and the dead Violet.

  When Sylvie was again by Vanweldt’s side he said to her quietly, “You are a woman after my own heart.”

  “No sense in letting all that gold go to waste. What about the girl?”

  “Forget her. By the time she makes her way back to Savannah, if that is indeed where she’s heading, we’ll be halfway to Martinique.” With his hand still clamped on Clare’s arm, he forced her to accompany them away from the scene.

  They put her in a carriage driven by the giant dark-skinned mute Clare had last seen with Vanweldt on the deck of the Amsterdam. “Dominic will find me and he’ll kill you. Save your lives and let me go.”

  “Be quiet,” Vanweldt ordered shortly.

  “He wanted to kill you the afternoon he sank the Amsterdam.”

  He turned to her sharply.

  “Yes,” she assured him. “I was there on the Marie that day. You and what was left of your crew were lucky he let you escape with your lives. I doubt he’ll be so generous again.”

  “Quiet!” Sylvie snapped.

  “And you, poor, poor Sylvie. Maybe he’ll maroon you. Leave you all alone on a deserted island with only a pistol for comfort. You were his mistress. You know how deadly Dominic can be, especially if it involves someone he cares for, but he doesn’t care for you anymore, does he?”

  Clare was struck again, and blood oozed from her split lip, but she wasn’t deterred. “When Dominic finds me, you’ll both beg to be sent to hell.”

  The giant drove them through the city to the docks, where she was taken aboard a small ship. While Vanweldt and his crew members got them under way, Clare was below decks being bound hand and foot by the mute. Sylvie was holding a pistol on her, and once Clare was tied, Sylvie told the mute, “Force open her mouth.”

  Clare tried to keep her lips and teeth locked but the powerful hand grabbed her by the jaw and the great pressure made her mouth open in response.

  Sylvie smiled. “I doubt you can make trouble trussed up as you are, but just in case. This is something Vanweldt uses on difficult slaves.” She poured the foul-tasting draught past her lips, and the struggling Clare had to swallow or choke.

  Moments later the cabin began to spin, or was it her head, Clare couldn’t tell, but before she could make sense of it, the world went dark.

  A few hours past dark, Gaspar boarded the moored sloop followed by a young girl. The worried look he wore when he entered the cabin immediately grabbed Dominic’s attention. “What’s happened?”

  “I’m not certain, but she is anxious to speak with you.”

  “Your name, my dear?”

  “Dot. Please, sir, you have to help her!”

  “Who?”

  “Miss Clare. Miss Violet sold her. I tried to get here as fast as I could, but—”

  “Sold her! When?” He looked to Gaspar. “Gather the others.”

  Dominic gestured her to a seat in his cabin. She had tears in her eyes.

  “Now, start again and from the beginning.”

  Dot told him the story beginning with the early morning ferry ride to Charleston and ending with Clare’s sale and Violet being struck by the horses. “I don’t know how badly she was hurt. I ran. Once I got back to the dock, I convinced a fishing boat going to Savannah that I’d gotten separated from my master and needed to get home, and they brought me, so then I came here.”

  “You did well, Dot.” And she had. “You said the woman at the shop called the man with her Paul? Can you describe him?”

  She did. “He claimed to be a trafficker. The woman with him, she never said her name but she said she knew you and Miss Clare, and that she and the man Paul had met in Jamaica.”

  “Sylvie and Vanweldt,” Dominic spat. It had to have been they.

  By then, the others had entered and Dominic hastily filled them in. Their faces were torn between concern and fury.

  “Did he say where he might be taking her?” he asked.

  “Martinique. He said he knew someone who’d enjoy owning someone that you cared for.”

  “Eduard,” Gaspar bit out. “I’ll bet my share it’s him.”

  Dominic’s tightened jaw throbbed with emotion.

  Esteban said, “I’ll ready the sloop.”

  “Good.”

  He hastened back up to the deck.

  Dominic focused again on Dot. “We will find Miss Clare, but I don’t wish to leave you here in Savannah unprotected. Do you wish to sail with us?”

  “Will I be free?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then yes. I’ll sail.”

  “Richmond, you, Tait, and Sam stay here. Hide her well. Everyone else with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Gaspar asked.

  “To get the children. Then home for the Marie.”

  “You should have killed Vanweldt when you had the chance.”

  “I’ve no time for hindsight, brother, but you are correct.”

  They hurried to the livery for horses.

  Calhoun said, “You seem to be in an all-fired hurry, deMille.”

  “We are, but we’ll be returning shortly.”

  Once the horses were saddled, Dominic, Esteban, James, and Washington Julian tore out for the Hampton home.

  Dominic was sick inside. The woman he loved was in the hands of Vanweldt. He knew the Dutchman would take a perverse joy in inflicting whatever harm or terror he could as a means to strike back at him, and putting Clare in the clutches of his snake of a brother would be the ultimate revenge for both men, and for Sylvie. However, Dominic hoped they knew they would be paying for this perfidy with their lives because ultimately and eventually they would.

  Arriving at the Hampton home they saw no lights inside. Either no one was home or they were sleeping. Dominic thought the latter. The house was located on the edge of the property; the fields and, he assumed, the slave quarters were situated in the back.

  “Do we have a plan?” Gaspar asked.

  “No,” Dominic said, getting off his horse. “We go in, put a pistol to their heads, and demand the children. We’ve no time for politeness.”

  Gaspar grinned. “Aye, sir.”

  A sharp rap on the door brought a sleepy, middle-aged slave to the threshold. He raised the candle boat in his hand in an effort to see the visitors. A pistol pointed at his face appeared out of the dark. His eyes widened and his hand holding the candle began to shake.
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  “Get your master. Now. Do not tell him we are armed or it will cost you and him your lives.”

  He nodded, appearing too afraid to speak.

  Moments later the slave returned with a tall, aging White man.

  “Hampton?”

  His eyes widened. “Who are you? What is the meaning of this?”

  “We’re here for Ben and Sarah Sullivan. Where are they?”

  “Please,” the man voiced, trembling. “Take whatever you want, just don’t kill us.”

  “Ben and Sarah!”

  “Why?”

  James quickly put the bore of his pistol against Hampton’s temple and held it there. “Where are they?”

  His wife appeared at the top of the stairs. “Harold, what’s…” Her voice and words trailed off as she took in the men crowded in the foyer. “Oh!”

  “Ma’am. Sarah Sullivan. Where is she?”

  “Why, she’s sleeping.”

  “Get her. Now.”

  Before she could make sense of what might be happening, Gasper took the stairs two at a time. “Show me.”

  They disappeared, but returned a few moments later. Mrs. Hampton held Sarah’s hand.

  “Now, Mr. Hampton, where’s her brother?”

  “Slave quarters.”

  Dominic nodded at James. “Go with him. And Mr. Hampton, please refrain from alerting your overseers or anyone else that will cause me to shoot your wife.”

  His eyes widened. “You would shoot a defenseless woman?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  James forced him towards the back of the house and they disappeared.

  Dominic said softly, “Sarah, please come stand by me.”

  She looked up at the tearful Mrs. Hampton, who gave her a nod, and Sarah reluctantly walked over to Dominic.

  “What do you want with me and Ben?” she asked in a scared voice that although younger in tone was reminiscent of her mother’s.

  “We’ll talk once your brother gets here, but we’re not going to hurt you or him.” He could see she was afraid but holding up well.

  Hampton and James returned with a sleepy-looking Ben. When he saw Dominic and the others his steps slowed. He studied Dominic as if attempting to remember if and where he’d seen him before. His eyes suddenly widened as if he’d solved the matter.

  “Come stand by your sister, Ben, please.”

  He took a quick look back at the Hamptons, then crossed the foyer to comply.

  Still holding his guns on the couple, Dominic nodded at Gaspar, who took a few lengths of rope from inside his coat and tied up the arms and wrists of Mr. Hampton. Mrs. Hampton was gestured to a chair and given the same binding, as was the slave. They were then all gagged and left in the dark.

  Gaspar took Sarah up in the saddle with him and Dominic did the same for Ben, and lit out for the docks. They hoped it would take some time for the Hamptons to free themselves. The last thing they needed were the authorities holding up the departure of the sloop. Earlier, Dominic had ordered the remaining merchandise placed on board the sloop under the mistaken belief that they’d be raising anchor tomorrow as soon as Clare arrived with the children. Now they had the children, but no Clare. He prayed she wasn’t suffering and that he’d get his hands on her abductors as soon as the fates allowed.

  Once they were on board, they lifted anchor and sailed up the river and away from Savannah. Esteban then steered them south. Having to drop Sam the guide off in the Key Islands of Florida would further delay their reaching their home but it couldn’t be helped. Luckily, Martinique was less than a day’s sail from Liberté. The sloop had only a few guns and therefore would be useless in an assault, which meant more delay while they spent time readying the Marie.

  Up on the deck of the sloop, the moon supplied light to the nocturnal sail, and the wind was fair, but Dominic, standing by the stern, wished for wings so he could make the journey faster. Esteban was steering them as swiftly as the winds allowed but not swiftly enough for Dominic. The children were below deck and hadn’t said a word since coming on board. He supposed he should go down and see about them, but his concern for Clare had blinded him to all else. Suddenly, they were by his side.

  “May we speak with you, sir?”

  He looked down at Clare’s children. “Of course.”

  “Where are you taking us?”

  “To freedom.”

  The children exchanged looks.

  “Freedom, sir?” Ben echoed.

  “Yes. You won’t be captives anymore after this night.”

  “But why?”

  “Because that is your mother’s wish.”

  “Our mother?”

  “Yes, Ben. Your mother is very dear to everyone on the sloop and especially to me.”

  “Where is she?” Sarah asked.

  “On an island called Martinique. We, the crew and I, will sail for her once you are safe at the place that will be home.”

  Ben then said, “My sister is very sleepy. Is there a place for her to lie down on the boat?”

  Dominic nodded. He walked over and called below for Dot. When she appeared he asked if she would get Sarah settled, and she agreed with a smile.

  Once they were gone, Ben asked, “Mama is in trouble, isn’t she?”

  Dominic didn’t lie. “Yes, but we’ll rescue her. Don’t worry.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  Dominic studied him. “It might be better if you stayed with your sister.”

  “I can help.”

  “Can you climb the rigging, load a cannon, or even swim?”

  “No sir, but I’m strong, I can follow instructions, and she is my mother. I promise, you will not regret the decision if you agree.”

  Dominic smiled inwardly. He was a boy of heart and courage just like his mother. Dominic knew that if his mother, Marie, had been the one taken, no one in the world would have been able to deny him the opportunity to help return her to those she loved. “You may come, but you’ll do as I say or be chained in the hold, do you understand?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The brisk reply made him smile, and Ben did, too, before saying, “Tell me what has happened to her.”

  When he was finished, Ben looked out over the water. “These are bad people.”

  “Very bad.”

  “But we will get her back?”

  “Yes, we will.”

  “I will hold you to that, sir.”

  “I expect nothing less.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “That day on the wharf, you knew me?” Ben asked.

  “Not until you looked up and I saw your mother’s eyes.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Dominic LeVeq.”

  “Will that be our new name, Sarah and I?”

  “If you wish, but I have to marry your mother first.”

  “Then I hope we can get her back soon. I believe I will enjoy being a LeVeq.”

  Dominic simply smiled, and they both went back to watching the sea.

  When Clare awakened she had no idea if it was day or night, or where she might be. Her head ached and there was a terrible taste in her parched mouth. Heat seemed to be pressing down onto her from all sides and she fought to clear her mind. She sensed she was lying on a dirt floor. As she slowly became cognizant of the bindings on her wrists and ankles everything came rushing back: her sale, Violet’s death, Dot running, and the rest. The fear made her whimper.

  A man’s voice asked, “Would you care for some water, Clare?”

  Through her clouded vision she saw the outline of him standing over her.

  “Yes,” she croaked.

  He helped her to sit upright, and soon cool fresh water passed her lips. “Slowly now, my dear.”

  Her vision gradually cleared and she looked up into the brown eyes of a man she didn’t know. “Hello, we’ve never met, but my name is Eduard LeVeq. Welcome to Martinique.”

  Because she knew who he was, tears filled her eyes and slid d
own her cheeks.

  “Are those tears of joy, Clare?”

  “Should they be?”

  He shrugged. “It depends on what role you choose to play here, but we’ll get you bathed and rested up before I present your options.”

  “Dominic will be coming for me.”

  He gave her a cold smile. “You say that with such conviction, but alas, he doesn’t know where you are.”

  Clare knew he was wrong. Dot was a bright, resourceful young woman. Clare was certain she’d made it back to Savannah and Dominic, but she didn’t reveal her thoughts to Eduard. It would be better if he thought himself invulnerable. Pride goeth before the fall.

  “Bring her along, Yves.”

  For the first time she noticed the other man. It was Vanweldt’s giant. He picked her up and they followed Eduard out into the hot night.

  Chapter 15

  T

  he sloop reached Liberté in the wee hours before dawn. The island’s night watchmen armed with torches and weapons came down from the hills to greet the returning ship.

  Dominic told them, “Get a message to the drummers. Tell them I want all the men to meet me at the Marie as soon as possible.”

  “What has happened?” one of the men asked.

  “Clare has been taken.”

  Gasps were heard. Several men ran to relay his orders to the drummers.

  He told the rest, “Once everyone is here, I’ll tell as much of the tale as we know, but until then, I want you back at your stations. Keep an eye out for any passing ships. If you see one alert me.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  As in Africa, the drummers were positioned at various points around the island and they began pounding out their coded cadences from station to station.

  Dominic didn’t think Vanweldt would be foolish enough to be seen in the area again, but it would be just like him to sail by the island just to gloat. “Richmond, borrow a horse from one of the night crew and take Sarah and Dot to Anna, then get back here quickly. Everyone else, to the Marie.” He looked down to see Ben striding at his side. The determined set of the lad’s face made Dominic look to Gaspar, who was flanking the boy. The two men shared a quick smile but it soon faded as they set their minds on the battle to come.

 

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