“I’m sorry, Captain, but you have mistaken me for someone else,” India said in her plumiest tones.
“India, you are somewhat grown since the last time I saw you,” Tom Southwood said grimly, “but you have your mother’s look about you, and that fetching little mole she sports between your nostril and your upper lip, and you are wearing the Lindley signet ring your mother gave you. Now, what is this all about, and why are you masquerading as an old lady? Although I believe I know the answer to my own question.”
“Then you need nothing from me, Tom,” India said angrily.
“Is he your Italian tutor, this Signore di Carlo?” the captain demanded of her. “You’re eloping, aren’t you, and you chose my ship to do it on? I had heard you had grown into a little hellion, but I never thought you would cause a scandal like this! If anyone finds out what you have done, you will be ruined. No decent man will have you.”
“But Adrian is a decent man!” India cried out, defending her love. “He isn’t my Italian tutor, Cousin Tom. He is Viscount Twyford, the earl of Oxton’s heir. We were eloping to his uncle’s house in Naples to be married because Papa would not be reasonable. I love him, and he loves me! I chose your ship because I knew we would be safe, and I came aboard in disguise for obvious reasons.”
“Knox, move Lady Lindley’s things to my cabin, and see that her gentleman is confined to his quarters for the duration of the trip,” Captain Southwood said.
“Tom! You cannot be so cruel,” India sobbed.
“Cousin,” he told her sternly, “if we are fortunate, there will be one of our company’s vessels in Marseilles going west to England. If there is, I intend putting you on it, and seeing that you are returned home to your parents. If there is not, you will remain aboard my ship and return home with me. As for your swain, he has paid his passage to Naples, and he shall disembark there, but without you!”
“Noooo!” she wailed. “No!”
Grasping her lightly by the arm, Tom Southwood literally dragged his young cousin from her cabin to his. As they passed the cabin housing Adrian Leigh, they could hear him pounding on the door in furious frustration. Shoving India into the day room of the great stern quarters that were his, Tom Southwood said, “I will speak with your viscount, and explain to him that things have changed, India. You are going home, young lady!”
“I hate you, Thomas Southwood!” India shouted, and she flung a wine carafe at him. “I hate you!”
He ducked, and, beating a hasty retreat, exited his cabin, locking the door behind him. Now he returned to the passenger deck and let himself into Viscount Twyford’s cabin. The young man leapt up from the bunk upon which he had been sitting. “Well, my lord, you are found out,” Captain Southwood said grimly. “The game is up, and you will be put off in Naples. My cousin, India, however, will be sent home. You will be confined to your cabin until we reach your destination.”
“You have no right . . .” Adrian began pompously, only to be cut off.
“Aye, my lord, I have every right. As captain of the Royal Charles, I am the master of this small seagoing domain upon which you currently reside. You do not have the duke of Glenkirk’s permission to marry his daughter. You have cajoled and lured an innocent young girl away from the safety of her family. You are a cad, my lord. Now I will leave you to consider the seriousness of what you have done. I think it will be a long time before you dare to show your face in England. We are a large family, my lord, and we protect our own. I pray to God this has remained a private matter, and that India’s reputation is yet intact. Do you understand me?”
“May I at least say farewell to India?” Viscount Twyford asked.
“You have said all to my cousin that you should, and probably a great deal more,” Captain Southwood replied. “And do not bother trying to speak with India through the cabin walls. I have moved her to my quarters. She, too, will be confined even as you are, until she leaves this vessel. Now I will bid you good day, sir.”
Thomas Southwood then found his first mate, Mr. Bolton, and explained to him what had happened.
“ ’Tis a right bad coil, sir,” Mr. Bolton said, shaking his head. “There’s advantages to being a bachelor, I’m thinking. Pray the lord the lass hasn’t ruined herself with a scandal.”
India was so angry with her cousin that she refused to eat that evening. “I shall starve myself to death,” she told him dramatically. “You shall return to England with my withered body in a coffin, and then Papa shall kill you!”
Thomas Southwood swallowed back his laughter. He had a younger sister, Laura, who at India’s age had also been given to similar histrionics. “Suit yourself,” he said mildly, “but this fish is really quite delicious. It was fresh-caught by Knox earlier today, and the artichokes came aboard at Cadiz. Would you like a fresh orange? They are very sweet.”
“Go to hell!” India spat angrily, her hand inching toward a pewter goblet, a dangerous look in her eye.
He was quickly on his feet, and before she might throw anything at him, he dragged her up from her chair and across the cabin. “You may sleep in my bed, India, and I shall take Knox’s trundle out here.” He pushed her into his smaller sleeping cabin, locking the door behind her. “There is water for bathing and drinking, my dear,” he called to her, and then returned to the table to finish his meal while she shrieked at him from her prison.
In the morning it was Knox who opened the door to let her out. “Captain says you may have the run of his quarters during the day, m’lady,” the steward said pleasantly. “Can I get you anything to eat? Some fruit, perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” India said politely. “Where is my cousin?”
“Captain don’t sleep more than four, five hours, m’lady. He be up on deck, and has been since before dawn,” Knox said. “Well, if I can’t be of any service to you, I’ll go tend to the young gentleman.”
“Knox! Wait! Will you take a message to Viscount Twyford for me?” India pleaded. “I will make it worth your while.”
The steward shook his head despairingly, edging toward the door, for he knew of India’s penchant for throwing things. “I’m sorry, m’lady, but you know I cannot.” Then he was out the door before she could argue with him, or pitch a missile at him.
India heard the sound of the key turning in the lock once again, and almost snarled in angry despair. She had not come this far to be denied. Setting herself in the window seat of the cabin’s great window, she looked out. No escape here. The window looked onto the sea itself, and, peering down through the glass, she could see there was no ledge. The little sleeping cabin had no access to the deck. Only the door in this cabin itself had entree to the main deck. But she would find a way. She would! And she was certain that her beloved Adrian was also seeking a means of escape. Perhaps when they got to Marseilles, and her interfering cousin attempted to transfer her to another ship, she could escape them. And while they were looking for her she would sneak back on board and help Adrian. Then they would travel on overland to Naples. She wasn’t going to be stopped now.
“Sail ho!”
She heard the call out on the deck. Looking out the great window, India could see another vessel in the distance.
“Put on more sail!” came the command.
India could hear the creaking of winches as additional canvas was raised, but the ship didn’t seem to be gaining any speed. She looked back out the window again. The other ship was gaining on them rather quickly. It was a narrow, sleek vessel with scarlet-and-gold-striped sails. She turned as the cabin door opened and her cousin entered, a worried look upon his handsome face.
“Be quiet and listen,” he told her. “In a few minutes we are going to be boarded by pirates from one of the Barbary States.”
India paled, and gasped. “Can’t we escape them?” she asked.
“Under ordinary circumstances, yes, but the bloody wind is dying on us, and without the wind we can’t outrun them. Now hear me very carefully, India, for what I am going to say may s
ave your life. My grandmother was once in a similar situation. If you are asked to convert to Islam, agree and save your life. Don’t be a little fool and refuse. We need no martyrs in this family. Agreeing means you will be given, or sold, to a highly placed man, and not thrown into the common slave bagnio where you would be raped and forced into whoredom.”
“But can’t we be ransomed?” she asked him, horrified.
“Neither of us is important enough, Cousin,” he told her. “One day I may be able to get a message home, and then perhaps . . ” He stopped, and looked at her. “You may not be able to go back then.”
“Ohhh, Tom!” India cried. “Not to see Mama or Papa ever again?”
“This family has a history of troublesome and adventuresome women, who usually end up surviving quite nicely, India. Listen, learn, and for God’s sake remember that from the moment of your capture you are no longer the duke of Glenkirk’s daughter but nothing more than a beautiful slave. You will be at the mercy of your master, whoever he will be. Keep your temper in check, Cousin, and a civil tongue in your head, or you could find that tongue yanked out. The Barbary pirates are fierce men.”
“I would rather be dead than submit!” India cried dramatically.
Tom Southwood grasped his young cousin by the arms, and shook her hard. “Don’t be an idiot, India,” he said, and then, releasing her, he was gone out the door again. To her despair she heard the key turning in the lock. Did he never forget?
The corsair ship drew skillfully alongside the Royal Charles. She could now see the reason for its speed. While the ship had sails, it was also propelled by banks of oars, which had given it a great advantage over the larger merchant vessel, caught in a dying wind. India wished she could be out on the deck. What was her cousin doing? Was he going to fight?
“The crew stand ready to defend the ship, sir,” Mr. Bolton said.
Tom Southwood shook his head. “Resistance would be futile,” he told his first mate, who had already known it. “Look at their guns. Besides, I want the ship intact. Eventually we’re going to steal it back, Francis Bolton.” He chuckled. “You’ve told the crew what I said?”
“Aye, sir, but two of them is Irish papists, and half a dozen are hard-nosed Puritans. The sailmaker is a Jew, and the cook says he don’t believe in anything. They won’t convert,” the first mate replied.
“Well, I’ve warned them, and hopefully enough of the lads will so we can sail this ship home one day,” the young captain replied. “Heads up, Bolton, here they come!” He stood straight, his green eyes sweeping over the corsair’s vessel. It was the largest of the galley class, with twenty . . . -four, -five, -six, -eight . . . benches of oars. Each bench would hold four or five men. This particular ship had an enclosure over the stern, which meant it carried janissaries. The rest of the deck was open to the sky. There was a large fixed cannon located on a low deck area, and several swivel guns sat amidships.
Then a large, tall man was standing before him. He spoke accentless French. “I am Aruj Agha, a captain in the royal Ottoman janissary Corps, based in El Sinut, and sailing under the command of its dey. Who are you, sir?”
“Captain Thomas Southwood, out of London, commanding the Royal Charles, under the aegis of the O’Malley-Small Trading Company. We are usually allowed unmolested in these waters, Aruj Agha. Why have you stopped us? Did you not see the pendant we fly?”
“It means nothing to me, sir,” came the polite reply. “Whatever meaning it might have had once, it obviously no longer has that meaning. You and your ship are fair game, and now belong to the dey of El Sinut. What cargo do you carry?”
“Wool, Cornish tinware, hides, fruit, and barrels of sherry,” was the response. “I also have two passengers, both of whom can be ransomed. One is the son of the earl of Oxton, and the other, who happens to be my own cousin, is the daughter of the duke of Glenkirk. Her younger brother is King Charles’s bastard nephew. Her father will pay a fortune to regain her custody. I was taking her to visit her grandmother in Naples.”
“If you are familiar with our world, Captain Southwood, then you know the rules on captives. I hope for your cousin’s sake that she is an ugly little girl.”
Thomas Southwood grimaced, and Aruj Agha laughed.
“No? Well, then, you had best let me see her,” he said.
“I have locked her in the main cabin as I feared for her safety, sir. Please follow me.”
“Very wise,” Aruj Agha agreed. “We’ll be taking your ship in tow, and so you, your passengers, and a few of your crew may remain until we reach our destination. I shall put my own men aboard to sail this vessel. We are three days out of El Sinut.”
“And the rest of my crew?”
“They’ll come aboard my galley, to be put in chains, of course. The dey will decide their fate once we arrive,” Aruj Agha said.
Tom Southwood was not surprised. It was to be expected. The dey would give the men a chance to convert to Islam, and those who did would sail aboard his ships. Those who did not would be sold, go to the dey’s ships as galley slaves, or go to the mines. It was a well known and common practice. Reaching the main cabin, he unlocked the door, calling to India as he did, “Cousin, it is I.”
She stood in the center of the cabin, a sword in her hand. “You gave up without a fight,” she accused him.
“We are a merchant ship, India. The corsair has guns,” he explained. “Where the hell did you get that sword? Put it down. Now!”
“I cannot. I must uphold the family’s honor, Tom, which you have so easily besmirched. I found the sword beneath your bunk. I will not give up without a fight,” India declared.
Aruj Agha looked admiringly at India. The girl was a dazzling beauty. She wore a dark claret-colored velvet skirt and a man’s full shirt. A large black leather belt surrounded her tiny waist. Her long, dark curls were loose, and her eyes flashed fire. She was utterly magnificent!
“En garde, infidèle!” India taunted, waving her weapon at him.
“Jesu!” Tom Southwood swore helplessly. How could he have forgotten the weapon beneath his bed?
Aruj Agha, however, burst out laughing. “Come, my beauty,” he cajoled her with a friendly grin. “Your cousin did the right thing. It would have pained me to have to blow this lovely ship to pieces and kill all aboard. You will not be harmed. Indeed, I foresee a wonderful life ahead of you as the favorite in your master’s harem. Give me the sword.” He held out his hand. India slashed wildly at it. Fortunately, the agha pulled his hand back swiftly, receiving only a glancing blow that nonetheless opened a small ribbon of blood across his fingertips.
Then India leapt forward, flaying at Aruj Agha wildly. The janissary captain was no longer in a mood to coax the girl. He met her attack, yanking the weapon from her hand and shoving her rudely to the floor, where he held her down with his booted foot. Tom Southwood never moved a muscle. He knew that the agha would not seriously harm India. She had too much value as a captive, but if she didn’t learn the place she held in this strange new world, she was going to get herself killed.
“Tom! Are you going to let him do this to me?” India shrieked. “Help me!” She squirmed beneath her captor’s boot.
“I warned you, India,” he told her in their own tongue. “Now, shut up before he has you whipped, and don’t say he wouldn’t because he would. That is how recalcitrant slaves are dealt with here. I hope by now you realize the danger you are in.” He turned to the jannissary, speaking French once more. “I have told her to behave herself, Aruj Agha, but she has always been very spoiled. I cannot guarantee she will listen.”
“I’ve handled wild mares before, Captain. I am ashamed to have been taken off guard by a mere, unskilled girl. She is a virgin, of course. They are always more skittish in an unfamiliar situation.” He looked down at India. “Are you prepared to be a bit more docile, my beauty.” He lifted his foot from the small of her back and pulled her up.
“Go to the devil!” India spat at him. “I’ll kill you give
n half the chance. I’ll be no man’s slave, damn you!”
Aruj Agha chuckled. “A spirited filly is always the finest,” he announced. “Is she always this sweet-natured, Captain?”
“I’m afraid so,” Tom Southwood replied.
“Where is Adrian?” India demanded of her cousin. “If they have harmed him, they will pay dearly!”
“Shut up, India!” he cautioned her. “You will only make it worse for your friend. He may be ransomed if this dey is generous of heart and greedy of spirit. Now, just do as you are told, Cousin.”
“If he can be ransomed, why can’t I?” she insisted.
“Because you are a beautiful virgin, and more valuable as a concubine. These people cannot imagine any father paying what you would otherwise fetch on the block, when, having been captured by pirates, you will be considered spoiled by our own people. Now, India, just be quiet and do as you are told. With Aruj Agha’s permission, I will come and see you later.” He concluded the last sentence in French so the janissary captain could understand him.
“Of course,” Aruj Agha replied. “We want the girl content. Fear spoils a woman’s beauty.”
The two men exited the cabin, locking India in once again. Outside the door she could hear the orderly sounds of activity as the majority of the Royal Charles seamen were transferred onto the pirate galley where they would be shackled. The voices outside her door were now foreign, and indistinguishable but for an occasional English voice. She was frantic for Adrian’s safety, and Tom had told her nothing. Her head was throbbing, and she had bruised her hip when Aruj Agha had thrown her to the floor. India suddenly felt like crying.
She heard the sound of the key, and the door opened again to admit Knox, the steward. “Captain wanted me to tell ye what is happening, m’lady, and bring you something to eat. Ye ain’t touched a morsel since last night, and that ain’t good. You’ve got to keep up yer strength.”
“Where is Adrian?” India asked the steward desperately, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
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