by Rose Pearson
Harmonia shook her head, her eyes wide with fright. “No, she was afraid of Lord Slate and even though we knew he had gone, Jacintha was determined to stay in her room with the door locked. She wanted to ensure her packing was going smoothly.”
Henry put his hand on the doorframe to steady himself, his mind scrambling to think of where Jacintha might be.
“I saw Lord Slate leaving,” he said, looking over at Harmonia. “Do you know where he went? Has he returned?”
A deep sense of foreboding filled him as Harmonia shook her head, her hands clutching his arm. The fact that Lord Slate’s staff appeared to be entirely absent only added to his concern.
“Go and care for your father,” he said, trying to smile at her. “You need not worry. I will find Jacintha. Do not tell your father if you think it will only make him worse. Resume your packing. Once I return with her, I shall take you all to my uncle’s home. Trust me, Harmonia. I will return with her.”
She nodded, her eyes wide and filled with fright. “Thank you, Henry,” she whispered, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “Godspeed.”
He hated leaving her when she appeared so pale and wane, but having no other choice, he clattered down the stairs and raced back outside, running to the stables to find a horse. Within minutes, he was riding flat out across the sands, coming to a sudden stop when his uncle appeared at the other end of the beach, waving to him frantically.
“Where have you been?” his uncle demanded, as Henry jumped down from his horse. “I’ve been looking for you!”
“Lord Slate left so I went in search of Jacintha,” Henry gasped, his heart racing. “Why? What’s happened?”
“One of the men came to find me,” his uncle replied, glancing behind him as some men rushed past towards the shore. “They saw a figure walk out into the waves towards a small boat with two men in it. They picked him up before heading towards the caves.”
“The cave with the tunnel?” Henry asked, his body growing taut with tension.
“Yes, the very one,” his uncle replied. “There are two boats being prepared. One of the scouts informed me that there is a larger ship waiting around the headland.” He paused and put one hand on Henry’s arm. “Only a few minutes ago, we saw that boat leaving the cave – just as you rode towards us. They had one more person on board than when they entered.”
Henry looked at his uncle, a slow dawning realization coming over him. “You think that extra person is Jacintha.”
“I do,” his uncle replied, leading him towards the shoreline. “Hurry now. The boats are being prepared.”
Henry felt sick to his stomach, a knot of fear tightening in his gut. Lord Slate had taken Jacintha through the tunnel and onto the boat, evidently determined to marry her whatever it took. He couldn’t think of what to do, the anger he felt over Lord Slate’s cruelty making his hands curl slowly into fists.
Looking out across the sea, he saw the boat moving away from them, urgency filling him.
“Quickly now!” he called, springing into action and hurrying towards the boats. “We cannot lose them!”
“And we won’t,” his uncle assured him, stepping into one of the boats and gesturing for Henry to climb into the other. “Don’t worry, Henry. This all comes to an end today.”
The boat rocked on the waves and, as the other men climbed aboard, Henry grasped the oars firmly, pulling them through the water with as much strength as he could muster. The oars dug deeply into the water and, within a few minutes, they were away from the beach and heading towards the ship. Henry twisted his head around to see the smaller boat already beside the larger ship, hearing the sound of faint shouts coming across the waves.
He couldn’t lose her, not when he was so close. If that ship made headway, then they’d never catch it. Despite his uncle’s promises, Henry knew that there was a chance Lord Slate might just slip through their fingers. They had to reach the ship before it weighed anchor. He had to get to Jacintha in time.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jacintha shivered violently as she was hauled up onto the ship, finding herself almost too weak to stand. All around her stood men of different ages, each leering at her as they laughed at her terrified expression.
“Leave her be,” Lord Slate shouted, as he climbed aboard just behind her. “She’s mine, understand? No-one else is to touch her.” Grasping her arm roughly, he gave Jacintha a slight shake, pointing at each of the men. “I’ll have you thrown overboard if you so much as lay a finger on her.”
A little relieved that she would, at least, be protected from that, Jacintha let out a long, shaky breath, her eyes lifting just a little to look out over the horizon. There were boats in the distance, but she supposed they were just more of Lord Slate’s men. Clearly, she hadn’t known this man at all. He had been leading an entirely different life, one she hadn’t even known about.
“We need to go, Captain,” Lord Slate stated, firmly, as the last of the men climbed aboard. “I’ll be taking her to my cabin. Weigh anchor.”
The captain stepped forward and nodded, shouting out orders which sent the men scrambling across the deck at once. Jacintha had no choice but to follow him, her heart pounding with fright as Lord Slate dragged her across the deck and down some small wooden steps into what she presumed to be his cabin. With a hard shove, she stumbled inside, only for him to slam the door hard, although he did not lock it.
Jacintha tried to get her bearing, looking all around the large cabin and finding that there was nowhere for her to hide. There was a large bed on one side, and a table and chairs at the other, with only a few other pieces of furniture.
“You’re not going anywhere, Jacintha, so you can stop trying to find a place to hide yourself,” Lord Slate chuckled, as he threw his coat over the back of one of the chairs. “You’re going to have to learn how to be my wife, although I’m happy to teach you all you need to know.”
The gleam in his eyes made her shudder, moving away from him to put the table and chairs in between them both.
“Come now, Jacintha,” Lord Slate said lazily, as though he knew she would have to give in to him eventually. “This isn’t going to work. There’s nowhere for you to go. I’m the only friend you have in the world now.”
“Why are you doing this?” Jacintha asked, hoarsely. “What have I ever done to you to deserve this?”
He shrugged, sitting down on the bed and studying her. “You seemed perfectly eligible,” he replied, calmly, as though discussing the weather and not her kidnapping. “I needed a wife, you see. The heir and all that.”
“But you didn’t want me to know who you really were,” Jacintha interrupted, clinging onto the back of a chair for dear life. “You didn’t want to tell me the truth.”
His eyes darkened and his lips flattened into an angry line.
“Did you really think that once I came here, I would be induced to marry you?” Jacintha continued, her words becoming a little stronger as she spoke, attempting to gather some courage.
Lord Slate snorted. “You were never meant to come here until we were wed,” he exclaimed, pointing at her. “It was you that made this happen! You told me your father was thinking of returning to the country so how else was I to get you here? Whether you were induced or forced to marry me, I did not particularly care…as you see.”
“But why?” Jacintha asked, feeling almost numb with fear and cold. “Why did you choose me? I am sure there are plenty of other eligible women who would have very little concern for your behavior, who would overlook it.”
He shook his head, a grim smile playing around his mouth. “Because I have already made more than enough of an effort to claim you as my bride. I will not do so again.”
Jacintha sagged against the chair, hot tears burning in her eyes although she refused to let them fall. “So that is what I am to you, is it? Nothing more than a project.”
“I needed a wife, Jacintha. I chose you. That means I expect to have you. I will not go back to London and repe
at the process all over again. It is simply not worth it. Not when I have you. Besides, even if I had thought to let you go, I could not have done so, given that you sneaked through my house and discovered the tunnel.”
“Please,” Jacintha replied, desperately, knowing that her explanation was more than useless at this point and yet finding words tumbling from her mouth. “I tried to find the library and came upon it by accident. I had no idea of any of this!” she finished, gesturing to the ship. “I don’t even understand what it is you are involved in!”
“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Lord Slate growled, his eyes narrowing. “I know your sharp mind. You can try and play the fool all you like but I know you worked it out – and even if you did not realize it at the time, you would have told someone eventually.”
“So you are a smuggler, then?” Jacintha asked, a faint stirring of anger amongst her fear and confusion. “Why do it, Lord Slate? Why bother when you are already a wealthy man?”
“Because one can never have too much wealth,” he replied, with a dark glint in his eye. “And because, once I discovered the tunnel in the old place, it seemed foolish not to get a share of what was being brought in.”
“You are meant to be a pillar of society,” Jacintha retorted, angry with herself over with how easily she had been duped by him. “You are meant to be upstanding, an example to the rest of us – and yet you engage in such illegal activities as this?” She did not mean to anger him, did not mean to upset him when she was in such a precarious situation but her frustrations and confusion tore from her lips, desperate to know who Lord Slate truly was.
He got to his feet, striding towards her and, much to her fright, threw himself over the table and grabbed her arm as one chair fell, crashing, to the floor.
“Don’t start getting yourself all high and mighty with me, Jacintha,” he spat, his fingers digging cruelly into the soft skin of her arms. “This is a very different world you’ve come into now and if there’s one thing you need to learn, it’s not to question me. Never question me.”
She looked back at him, her eyes burning into his as she battled with the fear that was racing all through her. She did not want to simply curl up and give in, even if she was about to set sail for an entirely different land, an entirely new world. Lord Slate was not going to have a quiet and obedient little wife. She would endure what she had to, in order to make him as miserable as she could.
There would be pain and suffering, but she would not shirk from it.
His mouth landed on hers and Jacintha felt her courage die almost immediately as she tried to fight him off, realizing that his strength was simply too much for her. Her gown tore, his hands scrabbling at the neckline of her gown, but Jacintha did not give up.
Lifting her knee high, she rammed it hard into him, only for him to stagger back with a howl of pain. She darted away from him, seeing the anger in his eyes as he struggled to breathe enough to shout for help.
The door handle slipped under her fingers. Jacintha did not know what she was doing, for to leave the cabin now would leave her to face a group of hostile smugglers, but everything was screaming at her to get away from Lord Slate however she could. Her heart beating wildly, she opened the door – only to see men climbing over the rail of the ship. There were wild shouts and harsh cries – but Jacintha did not wait. There were some steps to her left, steps that led deeper into the body of the ship, and Jacintha hurried down them at once. Three other men ran past her but none of them seemed to notice her. The shouts and clash of swords caught her ears as she made her way below deck, her fright rising steadily.
Turning this way and that, Jacintha tried to find somewhere that could hide her. If there had been any way to jump out into the sea, with something she could hold onto to help her float, she would do it in a moment but everywhere she looked, all she could see was gloomy darkness.
The air was stale, the smell penetrating her nose and making her stomach roll with nausea. She found the kitchens, complete with the cook who glared at her and started towards her, only for her to scurry away in fright. The shouts and cries of the men above her filled her with fear, worried that she was caught in the middle of some kind of smuggler attack. If they found her, would she be taken away as a prize for the victor? Would she be seen as nothing more than merchandise, sold to the highest bidder? Would there be a ransom sent to her father in exchange for her life?
Shivering violently, Jacintha continued to search the ship, knowing that her search would, ultimately, be hopeless. She would hide for a time but Lord Slate would find her eventually. There was no escaping from him.
Weakness filled her limbs as she continued to search, eventually coming across a room with a small, sputtering lantern on one wall and a small porthole window at the other.
The small room was at the very back of the ship, filled with barrels and containers. Lifting the lid, Jacintha realized that this was where the food for the journey was stored. There was nowhere else to go but here, for she could not just keep searching until she was caught. Her body was tired. She needed to sit down.
At least there was ample space to hide without being seen and, given that she had few other options open to her, Jacintha scurried to the smallest, darkest corner she could find and sat down on the wooden floor.
No footsteps came after her, no-one called her name. For the time being, at least, she was given a slight reprieve.
The barrels and containers hid her well but, as she sat there alone in the gloom, tears began to pour down her cheeks. Trying her best to keep her sobbing at bay, she buried her head in her hands and wept, feeling trapped and alone.
There was no-one here to save her. She had nowhere else to go but here. Lifting her head, she looked out of the porthole window and saw nothing but the sea. There was not even a glimpse of land. She was completely and utterly trapped.
Pounding feet above her made her cringe with fright, her heart beating so loudly she was certain it might give her away. Not that it mattered, she supposed for, in time she would either be caught or be forced to leave the quiet room in search of water.
“Oh, Henry,” she murmured, leaning her head back against the wall and allowing her thoughts to turn towards him. “If only we had allowed that to happen,” she whispered, thinking of that day all those years ago when he had held her so closely in the gardens. “What would have become of us now?”
Their future might have been so very different, their lives stayed on the same path instead of growing steadily more separate. She might never have convinced herself to choose a marriage of convenience instead of love, might have listened to her heart and chosen Henry over everyone else.
And now, it was much too late.
Would she ever see Harmonia and her father again? What about her other sisters and their children? She would become nothing more than a memory, a sad story told amongst family as they wondered where she was, desperately praying for her return. Jacintha did not even know if she would survive whatever it was Lord Slate had planned for her. His violence and temper left her in no doubt that he would use his strength in whatever way he wanted in order to get her to obey. She might be as strong and as resolute as she could but, in time, that determination would be broken. She would be broken.
Closing her eyes, Jacintha let tears fall down her cheeks, crying for what she had missed and for the family she would never see again. Her hope and courage flickered and died, shrouding her in darkness and defeat.
All hope was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Hurry, men!” Roderick shouted, as the two boats surged forward towards the larger vessel. “We are almost upon them.”
Henry felt as though his entire body was on fire, his limbs screaming in pain as he dug the oars into the water again and again. He could not stop, despite the agony, knowing that he had to reach Jacintha.
If they lost the ship now, then she would be gone forever.
“They are preparing to attack!” one man shouted, unsheathing his swo
rd and moving to stand near the front of Henry’s boat, his balance impeccable. “Get ready men.”
Henry looked over at Roderick, seeing him take his boat around to the opposite side of the ship, so that they would divide the men onboard. Aware that he did not have his own sword with him, Henry was more than relieved when another man put a sheathed sword down over his knees, just as they drew level to the ship.
Henry was not quite sure how he managed to climb on board, such was the hubbub and the fray going on all around him. Somehow, the men with him managed to secure their small boat to the larger one and, with their swords in their hands, they climbed aboard, battling their way as they did so.
He was the second last to leave the boat, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he held his sword in one hand and carefully climbed his way up onto the deck.
A battle was raging all around him, the sounds of clashing swords and screams of pain filling his ears. From the other side of the deck, Henry saw his uncle fighting hard, his sword glinting in the sunshine.
A howl of rage caught his ears and, in a moment, Henry found himself in the middle of it all. Glad that he had endured years of training with the sword, Henry put into practice every last thing he had learned, managing to disarm more than one of his opponents. They fell in front of him, the rest of the men doing the same. He did not know how long he fought, sweat trickling down his back as he slashed wildly at two men who came to attack him at once.
And then, just behind them, he saw a glimmer of movement.
Anger burned in his veins as he saw Lord Slate was slowly making his way out of a cabin, his own sword in his hand. He was not fighting, nor was he making any attempt to join his smugglers in the fight. Did he have Jacintha inside? Where was she?
Another man fell in front of him and, turning his attention to the second, Henry quickly knocked him to the ground, leaving him to the rest of the men to deal with. The battle was slowly being won, and he was not about to let Lord Slate escape from what he had done. He saw the man hurry towards the side of the ship, realizing what he intended to do. Slate wanted to use one of the boats in an attempt to get away, to save his own hide.