Secret Harbor

by Barbara Cartland

  He stood looking at her and for the first time she was conscious of her own appearance and that her hair was hanging loose over her shoulders. She had made no effort to tidy it when she had dressed on Roderick Maigrin’s instructions.

  The Comte did not speak and Grania said the first thing that came into her mind.

  “I ... I cannot ... go back!”

  “No, of course not. But where is your father?”

  “He was not ... well enough to ... come with Mr. Maigrin.”

  She did not look at the Comte as she spoke, but they both knew it was because the Earl was drunk that he had stayed behind at Maigrin House.

  “Sit down,” the Comte said unexpectedly. “I want to talk to you.”

  Obediently and also gladly because her legs felt as if they could no longer support her, Grania sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs.

  There were two lanterns hanging in the cabin and she saw that the port-holes were covered by wooden shutters that she had not noticed earlier in the day, and she knew that no light could be seen from outside.

  The Comte hesitated a moment. Then he said, still standing looking down at Grania:

  “I want you to think seriously of what you are asking me to do.”

  She did not answer. She only looked at him apprehensively, afraid he would refuse.

  “You are sure,” he went on, “there is not somebody else on the island with whom you could hide from your father? And could also keep you safe from the rebels?”

  “There is ... nobody,” Grania said simply.

  “And nowhere on any other island where you could be with friends?”

  Grania hung her head.

  “I know I am being a ... nuisance to you,” she said, “and I have no ... right to ask you to ... protect me. But at the moment it is difficult to think of ... anything except that I am ... terribly afraid.

  She thought as she spoke she was stating her feelings very badly, and what she really wanted to do was to beg the Comte to keep her with him.

  Then she knew it was a very reprehensible way to behave when she had only just met him, and he had made it quite clear that she could have no part in his life.

  Because she thought he must know what she was thinking she looked up at him and said:

  “I am ... sorry ... I am very ... sorry to ask ... this of you.”

  He smiled and she felt as if a dozen more lights illuminated the cabin.

  “There is nothing to be sorry about from my point of view,” he said, “but I am trying to think of yours.”

  He paused before he went on:

  “You have your whole life in front of you and if your mother had been alive you would have taken your place in London Society. It is hardly a reasonable alternative to be the only woman aboard a pirate ship.”

  “But it is where ... I want to ... be,” Grania said almost beneath her breath.

  “Are you quite sure of that?”

  “Quite ... quite ... sure.”

  She felt an irresistible impulse to rise and go close to him as she had been a few minutes before. She wanted his closeness, his strength, the feeling of security he gave her.

  Then, because her yearning to do that was so intense that she felt the colour come into her face, she looked away from him shyly.

  As if she had told him what he wanted to know the Comte said:

  “Very well. We will leave here at dawn.”

  “Do you mean that ... do you really mean it?” Grania asked.

  “God knows if I am doing the right thing,” he answered, “but I have to protect you. That man is not fit to associate with any decent woman.”

  Grania gave an exclamation of horror.

  “Suppose he ... finds us? Suppose when he ... realises I am not in the house he comes ... here?”

  “That is unlikely,” the Comte said, “and if he does I will deal with him. But it will be impossible to sail before morning without a wind.”

  “He will not ... suspect there is a ship in the ... harbour,” Grania said as if she was reassuring herself, and if he does come this way, Abe will warn us.”

  “I am sure he will,” the Comte agreed.

  “When Mr. Maigrin has ... gone, Abe will bring my ... trunks from ... where he has ... hidden them.”

  “I will tell the man on watch to look out for him,” the Comte said and went from the cabin.

  When he had gone Grania clasped her hands together and said a prayer of thankfulness.

  “Thank you, God, for letting me stay with him! Thank You that the ship was here when I most needed it!”

  She thought how terrifying it would have been if to escape from Roderick Maigrin she had had to run off into the jungle alone and hide amid the tropical vegetation.

  She had the feeling if she had done so he would somehow have found her. Perhaps with dogs, perhaps instructing his own slaves to search.

  “Thank You ... God ... thank You for the ... Comte” she said as she heard his footsteps returning.

  He came into the cabin and once again Grania resisted an impulse to run to him and hold onto him to make sure he was really there.

  “There are still lights burning in the house,” he said, “so I imagine that your unwelcome visitor has not left.” As he spoke there was a faint whistle from outside.

  “I think that is to tell us that Abe is arriving,” he said. Grania jumped to her feet.

  “I hope he is all right. I am terribly ... afraid that when Mr. Maigrin finds me ... gone he will vent his ... rage on Abe.”

  She followed the Comte out on deck carefully shutting the cabin door behind her.

  It was however quite easy to see by moonlight and when she walked over to the side of the ship she saw Abe walking along by the water’s edge, carrying one of her trunks.

  When he came on board she was waiting for him. “What is happening, Abe?”

  “Everything all right, Lady,” Abe replied. “Mister Maigrin asleep.”

  “Asleep!” Grania exclaimed.

  Abe grinned.

  “Put little powder in last drink. He sleep now ’til morning. Wake with bad head!”

  “That was clever of you, Abe.”

  “Very clever!” the Comte agreed.

  “I bring luggage,” Abe said. “You go ’way, not come back ’til safe.”

  “That is what I want to do,” Grania replied, “but what about you? I am afraid Mr. Maigrin will whip you.”

  “I all right, Lady,” Abe replied. “He not find me.”

  Grania knew there were many places on the island where Abe could hide, and she knew that however much her father needed him it would be impossible for him to face Roderick Maigrin’s anger and the cruelty with which he treated all those who served him.

  “I fetch other trunks,” Abe said, “and Joseph take carriage.”

  Grania was surprised.

  “Where will he take it?”

  Abe’s smile was very broad and she could see the flash of his white teeth in the moonlight.

  “When Mister wake he think you go Master. Joseph leave horses and come back.”

  “That is a brilliant idea,” Grania exclaimed, “and even if he thinks I am hiding, Mr. Maigrin will look for me near his own house.”

  Abe smiled with an almost childish delight. Then he said again:

  “I fetch other trunk.”

  “Wait a minute,” the Comte said, “I will send somebody with you.”

  He spoke to the man up the mast who slid down onto the deck. The Comte told him what to do and he followed Abe across the gang-plank.

  The Comte picked up Grania’s trunk and carried it towards the cabin.

  She ran ahead to open the door for him but when they were inside she said:

  “I cannot take your cabin. There must be somewhere else I can sleep.”

  “This is where as my guest, you will sleep,” he said firmly, “and I hope you will be comfortable.”

  Grania gave a little laugh of sheer happiness.

  “Ver
y comfortable ... and very safe,” she said. “How can I thank you for being so kind to me?”

  He did not answer, but as they looked at each other she had the feeling that he was telling her that he was as happy as she was and there was no need for them to express what they felt in words.

  Because his expression made her feel shy Grania said quickly:

  “I must give Abe some money. I have some money with me which I put in one of my trunks.”

  She had hidden the money she had brought with her from England because she was afraid that her father would take it from her and she would be penniless.

  When her mother had become ill and then grown weaker and weaker, she had said to Grania:

  “I want, dearest, to draw out from my Bank all the money I have left.”

  “Why should you want to do that, Mama?” Grania had enquired.

  There had been a long pause as if the Countess was considering what she should say.

  Then as if she felt it was a mistake to tell Grania anything but the truth she said:

  “You must have some money of your own which is not to be thrown away on the gaming-tables or the drink your father finds indispensible. It will not only pay for your trousseau when you marry, but you will be independent—if things go wrong!”

  She did not elaborate on what she meant and because her mother was weak Grania knew how important it was to do what she wanted and not ask too many questions.

  “I understand, Mama. You do not have to explain to me. I will do exactly what you wish me to do.”

  She had gone to the Bank the same day, and drawn out the few hundred pounds that her mother had left.

  “Are you wise, My Lady?” the Manager had asked, “to carry so much money about with you?”

  “I will put it in a safe place,” Grania promised.

  She knew he thought she was being reckless, but now it was a joy to know that she could give Abe enough to support himself and pay old servants and the slaves who were still supposed to be in their employment, though they had probably received no wages.

  “Let me do that for you,” the Comte said.

  “Of course not,” Grania replied, “I have my pride. Actually I have some money and this is the way I want to spend it.”

  She thought as she spoke that when her mother was speaking of her trousseau she had no idea that her daughter might have been married to the man she had always despised and disliked.

  The Comte undid the straps of her trunk and opened it for her, and she found the money she sought at the bottom of it.

  She counted out fifteen golden sovereigns, and thought Abe would think that was a large sum and it would last him a long time.

  The Comte had left the cabin and when she placed the money in a small bag which had also come from the Bank she went on deck to join him.

  He was watching for Abe and when he appeared with the Frenchman also carrying a trunk, Grania had the feeling that the Comte had been anxious just in case Roderick Maigrin had not been asleep and might have followed them.

  The trunks were brought aboard and Grania took Abe to one side.

  “Here is some money for you, Abe,” she said. “It is for yourself and for anyone else on the plantation you think has earned it.”

  She put the bag into his hand and went on:

  “When Mr. Maigrin gives up looking for me get the slaves to clear the undergrowth around the nutmeg trees. When things are better we will plant more of them and hope to have a crop that will make more money than we have had in the past.”

  “Good idea, Lady.”

  “Take care of the house, Abe, until I come back.”

  “You come back—Master miss you.”

  “Yes, of course I will,” Grania answered, “but only when it is safe.”

  As she said the words she looked over her shoulder and saw that the Comte was not far away.

  “How will we know when it is safe for us to return?” she asked.

  “You will want news of your father,” he replied, “but we must be sure that the rebels have not taken St. George’s as well as the other parts of the island.”

  “If safe, Sir,” Abe said. “I leave sign.”

  “That is what I was going to suggest.”

  “If safe come here,” Abe said as if he was thinking aloud, “I put white flag outside entrance.”

  “And if there is danger?” the Comte enquired.

  “If rebels or Mister Maigrin in house, I leave black flag.”

  Grania knew the flags would be only white or dark rags tied to a stick, but the message nevertheless would be very clear.

  She put out her hand to Abe saying:

  “Thank you, Abe, you have looked after me ever since I was a child, and I know you will not fail me now.”

  “You safe, Mister Beaufort, Lady.”

  He shook her hand and turned to leave.

  “Please, Abe, take good care of yourself,” Grania pleaded. “I cannot lose you.”

  His smile was very confident and she knew that in a way he was enjoying the excitement and even the danger of what they had just passed through.

  Then as he disappeared amongst the pine trees the Comte said:

  “You are now under my command, and I am going to give you your orders.”

  Grania gave a little laugh.

  “Aye, aye, Sir! Or is that only what the English sailors say?

  “Tomorrow I will teach you what to say in French,” the Comte replied, “but now you are to go to bed and sleep. I think you have been through enough dramatics for one night.”

  She smiled at him and he walked ahead of her to open the cabin door. The man who had fetched the trunks with Abe followed and put them tidily against one wall.

  “Do you want me to open them now?” the Comte asked.

  Grania shook her head.

  “I have everything I need in the one you have opened already.”

  The Comte extinguished one of the lanterns which were hanging from the ceiling and lifted down the other to place it beside the bed.

  He undid the little glass door so that it was easy for her to extinguish it.

  “Is there anything else you want?”

  “No, nothing,” she replied, “and thank you. I am so happy to be here that I just want to keep saying ‘Thank You’ over and over again.”

  “You can thank me tomorrow,” the Comte said, “but now I think it important for you to rest. Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle, dormez bien.”

  “Bon soir, mon Capitaine,” Grania replied.

  Then she was alone.

  When Grania awoke it was to feel the rolling of the ship, hear the creaking of the boards, the straining of the wind in the sails, and somewhere far away in the distance the noise of voices and laughter.

  For a moment she could not think where she was, then she remembered that she was at sea, far away from Roderick Maigrin and from the fear that had been like a stone in her breast.

  “I am safe! I am safe!” she wanted to cry, and knew she was happy because she was with the Comte.

  She had gone to sleep very conscious that her head was on his pillow, that she lay on the mattress on which he had slept, and was covered by the sheet that had been his.

  She felt close to him as she had felt when she ran into him in the darkness and had hidden her face against his chest.

  She was conscious then of the warmth of his body even before she had known the strength of his arms and felt in her dreams, he was still holding her.

  She sat up in bed and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

  She was sure that she had slept for a long time and it must be late, yet it did not matter if it was.

  There was no Parson waiting for her, no Roderick Maigrin trying to touch her, no horrors lurking amongst the trees or in the house.

  “I am safe!” Grania said again, and got out of bed.

  By the time she was dressed she knew she was hungry. At the same time she did not hurry.

  She found a small mirror amongst he
r other things and took a long time brushing her hair and arranging it in the way she had worn it in London, and which her mother had thought was very becoming.

  Then she found a gown that was one of her prettiest, and only when the tiny mirror told her that she looked very elegant did she open the cabin door to the blinding sunshine.

  The deck that had seemed deserted before was now full of activity.

  There were men at the ropes, men climbing up and down the masts, and the sails were billowing out in the sea breeze.

  The sea was dazzlingly blue and the gulls were whirling overhead and making a great deal of noise about it.

  Grania stood looking around. She knew that she was looking for only one man and when she saw him she felt her heart give a leap as if she had been afraid he would not be there.

  He was at the wheel, and she thought that with his hands on the spokes, his head lifted as if he searched the far horizon, no man could look more handsome or more omnipotent, as if he was not only Captain of his ship, but master of everything he surveyed.

  She would have gone towards him, but he saw her and gave the wheel over to another man and came walking towards her.

  As he joined her she saw his eyes travel over her, and there was a faint smile on his lips as if he realised the trouble she had taken to make herself look attractive and was appreciative.

  ‘I am so very late,” Grania said because she felt he was waiting for her to speak.

  “It is almost midday,” he replied. “Would you wait for luncheon, or would you like to have the breakfast you missed this morning?”

  “I will wait,” Grania replied, because she wished to stay with him.

  He put his arm through hers and led her along the deck stopping every few steps to introduce her in turn to men working at the ropes.

  “This is Pierre, this is Jacques, this is Andre, and this is Leo.”

  Only later did Grania know that three of the men on board had been very rich when they left Martinique.

  Two were planters in the same way that the Comte considered himself one, and had owned a large number of slaves, the third, Leo, was a Lawyer with the biggest practice in St. Pierre, the Capital of Martinique.

  She was to learn that they showed their courage in the way they were never bitter about the fate that had swept their possessions from them, but merely optimistic that one day their fortunes would change and they would return home to claim what they had lost.