The couple were unable to shake their guard until the night of the party. The party was successful despite the hurried preparations. There was no gap where the Miller family should have been, since Amelia’s tearful apologies and pleadings and Katherine’s own more formal apology (combined with Amanda’s consuming curiosity) persuaded Amanda to attend with son and husband in tow. The guests were pleasantly amazed at how lovely Katherine suddenly seemed. Dressed in a rich peacock-blue satin and with her hair swept softly upward and back in a mass of gleaming curls, she looked elegant. Her sailor, as Amanda called Perkins, felt his pulse race at the mere sight of her, and he spent the rest of the evening trying to maneuver the two of them away from all the other guests. After the announcement of their engagement, however, they were besieged with congratulations and, being the center of attention, it was extremely difficult for them to disappear.
When the guests finally departed and Perkins thought that he, too, would have to take his leave without having had a chance to be alone with Katherine, he was surprised and pleased to see Mr. Devereaux take Aunt Amelia by the arm and firmly lead her off toward the stairs, quelling her protestations with a stern look. Katherine smothered a giggle at the outraged expression on her aunt’s face. William seized her hands and held them tightly between his own. He discovered, now that his opportunity had finally come, that he had nothing to say—or maybe too much to even begin to express it. So he stood gazing down at her, drinking in her loveliness, as if he wanted to memorize every line of her face.
“Katherine,” he said finally, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she responded, wondering inwardly if she were telling the truth.
“I had a farewell all thought out to say, but now I can’t remember it. Oh, Katherine, I only know that I shall miss you unbearably. For the first time I am very reluctant to put out to sea. I want to stay here, to marry you, to live the life we plan.”
“It’s what I want, too, William. I shall pray that the war will be over soon and always, always that you will be safe.” She realized suddenly that whether she loved him or not, she cared for him very much and that he might be killed. “Oh, William, keep safe. Come back to me. I’m so very frightened for you.”
“I will,” he said, gratified at her concern. “Very soon, I promise.”
He bent to kiss her, and she flung her arms around his neck. He pulled her to him and kissed her hard, their mouths opening against each other. Finally he pulled away from her shakily.
“I must go. I can’t bear this,” he said.
He raised her hand and kissed it fiercely, then turned abruptly and left. Katherine stared after him for a few moments, then covered her face with her hands. Why didn’t his kiss affect her as that man’s had? Whatever was the matter with her?
Hampton was afraid that he had frightened her off again, so it was a great relief to look up and see her dishing out food at the head of the line. It was disturbing to realize, however, how intense his desire for her was. The risk he took had been foolish, with her father and two Yankee officers lurking about the yards. But he guessed, considering everything, the questioning about Charleston Harbor that he had been put to was worth the chance it had given him to see her, to kiss and caress her. Perhaps that opportunity had even been worth the tremendous risk he had taken. Had he been discovered with her locked in his arms, it would have meant solitary confinement for the duration—and the complete destruction of his plans for escape. He would be more careful in the future to avoid her, but when the escape was made, he was damned sure going to reward himself by taking her with him.
Dreamily he contemplated her. What a lovely, changeable creature she was. Out here in the sun, her hair blazed golden; indoors it seemed a rich red-brown; and her eyes, changing from a clear gold to a hard, dark amber. Those spinsterish clothes and beneath them those full breasts. Her tart, brisk manner and that passionate yielding the other morning. He smiled, remembering her little whimpers of desire and her eager, questing tongue. Given a little time with her, he knew he could turn her into a passionate creature who wanted to give and receive pleasure. And he would dress her more fittingly—deep, vibrant colors with low necklines to show off her flawless ivory shoulders and breasts. Diaphanous nightgowns that would be for his eyes alone.
Bitterly he shook himself back into reality. Once he could have showered her with such clothes, with jewelry and trinkets, with anything she desired. But the Hampton fortune had vanished in the War, lost in their merchant ships moldering in the harbor and their rice and indigo crops lying ruined in the fields. The blockade had crushed them, as it had so many, crippling the Jackton Shipping Line and leaving no outlet for the export of the Soames plantation’s crops. Thinking about it, his hatred flared. Damn them all, including this lovely golden girl, smugly sitting out the War, well-fed and far away from battle. While his country starved and bled, while his mother and sister were forced to make do with mended dresses and too little food, while even his mistress had been reduced to waxing ecstatic over occasional black net stockings or French lace petticoats that he brought with him from Nassau when he managed to slip through the blockade.
It was in this frame of mind that he stepped up to receive his plateful of food and, glancing down at her left hand, saw the ring on her third finger. Quickly he looked up at her face and saw it confirmed in her face.
“May I congratulate you, Miss Devereaux?” he murmured.
“Thank you, Captain Hampton,” she replied stiffly.
Irrationally he was furious. What a two-faced bitch she was! To respond as she had to him when she was on the point of becoming engaged. He did not stop to consider that if anyone had a right to feel betrayed, it was her fiancé rather than he. Angrily, he found a place to sit by himself and began to devour his food without really seeing it. He had no feeling for her except physical desire, he told himself, for she was a cool Yankee bitch. It was just that he felt somehow used; she had merely been trying out her powers on him, teasing him, indulging in a little virginal curiosity, knowing that he was chained, powerless, at her mercy, knowing that with the officers nearby he could not satisfy the desire she aroused. He had seen the same sort of thing done by a Southern belle to a slave—leaning forward to innocently expose a view of her breasts, showing more leg than necessary when entering a carriage, laying a soft little hand on the arm while giving instructions—all in an attempt to provoke a frustrated desire in him which he knew would be death to fulfill. It also showed itself in the way a young lady teased her devoted beau. In more objective moments, he was prone to think that it was women’s way of revenging themselves against men for having all the power over them, using the one weapon at their disposal. Now, however, he was simply enraged to think that she had been taunting him. No doubt she felt smugly sure that he would burn without fulfillment; no doubt she felt quite pleased with herself for putting a Rebel through a little agony. Damn her; he’d show her soon enough that she was unable to pull her tricks on him. It would not be long now until he was able to satisfy his craving for her.
Fortner squatted down beside him and said, “I see the woman of your dreams has become engaged.” Cheerfully he shoved a fork of potatoes into his mouth.
Hampton answered him with only a noncommital grunt.
“Guess you’ll never get to taste her charms,” the young man teased.
“I wouldn’t count on that, Ned. I’m taking her with me when we leave.”
“What! Sir, you can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he replied coolly.
“But to kidnap her! To—to—you can’t really mean to take her by force.”
The captain shot him an amused glance. “I can—and shall, if force is needed.”
“But, Matt—I mean, Captain—even though she’s a Yankee, still she’s a lady—gently reared, no doubt a virgin.”
“More trouble, I’ll admit, but I think she’s worth it.”
“Really, sir—” Fortner spluttered, unable to express his outraged ch
ivalry.
“Come, now, Fortner, don’t be childish. I am not your vision of a Southern gentleman. Normally this is not the sort of activity I engage in, but the circumstances are extraordinary.” He looked at the young man, his eyes hard and implacable. “Don’t cross me, Ensign. When I want something, I get it, and time and circumstances don’t permit me to play leisurely chivalrous games with Miss Devereaux. I plan to take the lady with me, and I fail to see how it concerns you.”
The young man gulped at the steel of the other’s gray eyes. “Of course, sir, there is nothing I can do since you’re my superior officer. But I must protest; I think it’s very unwise. She’ll impede us, sir. This is a very dangerous and uncertain enterprise to drag a girl along on!”
“Ensign, I am the captain of this crew, and I think that I have proved that I am quite capable of planning and directing this venture. I am quite aware of the hazards involved.” Suddenly he grinned to soften the rebuff. “I prefer a few dangers in war—and love.”
Fortner had to return the smile. “I’m sorry, sir. I know I’m out of place trying to tell you what to do. It was just that, well, she’s been rather kind to us, you know.”
“I know, Fortner. Believe me, I don’t plan to harm the girl. She may even enjoy it.” He winked and laughed.
The time passed slowly for Katherine after Lieutenant Perkins sailed. She found herself something of a minor scandal for becoming engaged to a nobody. Lillian Stephens said maliciously that, considering her age and unmarried state, Katherine had had to accept the only thing that came along. Others came to call on Katherine to quiz her on her reasons for marrying him. Aside from these annoyances, her days were monotonously uneventful. Amanda maintained a huffy silence, and Captain Hampton kept his distance. Pegeen talked of nothing but the wedding and her Jimmy O’Toole. The wedding was too indefinite for Katherine to begin any preparations, and it was too early for any bridal parties. The only thing she found to do was choose and be fitted for a wedding dress. Even the daily routine of the office grew dull, particularly after the new ship was moved from dry dock into the water for testing and final touches, and she could no longer see the workers. The days and weeks crept by, as February drifted into March; and slowly the weather showed signs of warming.
One day in early March, as the prison wagons pulled into the yards, Hampton knew that the time had come. The ship was seaworthy now, though lacking final graces; soon the prisoners would be taken off it. What decided him in favor of this particular day was that four barrels of fresh water stood nearby on the docks, waiting to be used in cleaning the decks of another ship. He and his men had to have water on board ship to make good their escape.
Casually he turned to Fortner and said, “Tell the men to overpower the guard as soon as we reach the ship. We have only an hour before the civilian workers arrive.”
Former gaped at him in astonishment, then gulped and said, “Yes, sir.”
“You and I will take Gunther. Peljo and Emerson will get Jackson; Mason and Carter take Bannion, and Jenkins and Puryear take Sanderson. Remember, no noise, and all of them at the same instant. I’ll give the signal.”
Fortner quietly passed the word as the men jumped from the wagons and walked toward the ship. Hampton could feel the familiar tightening in his stomach, the sudden lightness of head and rush of adrenalin that he always felt before battle.
“Tippins,” he leaned toward one of his men as they walked up the gangplank. “Start a fight aft—enough to bring the guards.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Tippins purposefully headed toward the rear of the ship, Hampton and Fortner hung back by their guard.
“Say, Sergeant Gunther, when we gonna move to another ship, you think?” Fortner said conversationally.
“Dunno. You boys just get to work.”
Hampton kept one eye on the brewing quarrel, and just as Tippins swung, he said lightly, “Sure would like to get back up to where I can keep my eye on that Devereaux girl.”
“Why, you—” The Yankee turned on him wrathfully, as the other guard ran toward the fight. His back was now to Fortner, who quickly dropped his chains around Gunther’s neck and jerked back, choking off his breath.
Hampton swept one arm up in a signal and with the other grabbed the guard’s rifle. Quickly he took the guard’s pistol from his holster and the keys to the irons. He glanced toward the knot of struggling men and hurried toward them, but by the time he reached them the three guards had been knocked unconscious and disarmed.
“Strip ‘em,” he said. “And four of you men put on their uniforms and pretend to stand guard. Mason, here are the keys. Unlock everyone’s chains and put irons on these guards and take them below. Peljo, come here.”
He drew the dark little man off to one side. “Peljo, you know Miss Devereaux?”
The earringed man grinned and nodded.
“Good; go up to the office, very excited. Tell her there’s been a fight here and one of the men has been hurt badly.”
“You, sir?”
“No, not me,” he grinned ironically. “She might not come. Say Fortner. Tell her we need her assistance immediately. Don’t let anyone else come. Bring her down to the captain’s quarters. Got that?”
“Yes, sir.” He took off at a run.
Turning back to his men, he assigned stations and had them draw up the anchor. Mason undid his chains, and Hampton rubbed his chafed wrists. God, it felt good to be able once again to spread his arms wide.
“Are the guards taken care of?” he asked Mason.
“Yessir. In the hold. Shall I dump these chains below decks?”
“Yes. We may need them later.”
“Sir—,” came a worried hiss. “MacPherson’s coming.”
“Damn. I had hoped we wouldn’t have to take him. Any of the other workers coming yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, let him on board. Have the guards hit him on the head as soon as he steps on. No noise—and try not to kill him.”
MacPherson came up the plank and was rendered unconscious before he had taken two steps across the deck. Hampton stationed men at the moorings and gangplank, ready to untie the ship and pull up the plank as soon as Miss Devereaux was aboard. Anxiously the captain kept glancing toward the yards. Where the hell were they? What if she was late to work today? Or perhaps had decided not to come in at all? He sincerely hoped Peljo wouldn’t be fool enough to wait for her if she wasn’t there.
Then suddenly they came into sight. Though both were hurrying, they were slowed by her skirts and Peljo’s chains to an awkward gait. Hampton sighed in relief and turned away.
“Get ready. As soon as she’s aboard, we sail.”
Katherine had leaped up in alarm when Peljo burst into the office. “What in the world!”
“Ma’am, he’s hurt; the ensign’s hurt. Down at the ship. Mr. MacPherson said to fetch you and your medical kit. Right now.”
“Of course. Teddy, get the first-aid kit. It’s in the third cabinet, bottom shelf.” She quickly wrapped her cloak around her, tied on her bonnet, and grabbed her muff.
“What happened?” Teddy asked excitedly, pulling out the metal box which housed their bandages and ointments.
“Fight,” Peljo said succinctly. “I’ll take that, lad. The foreman says no one but the miss here is to come.”
“But I wouldn’t get in the way—” Teddy protested.
“You certainly would,” Katherine said briskly, already heading for the door. “You stay right here. Come along, Peljo.”
“Is he seriously hurt?” she asked as they hurried toward the ship.
“Lots of blood. I don’t know how bad.”
She concentrated on trying to run, tightly corseted as she was and with her hoop swaying wildly. She felt scared and, strangely enough, excited.
“He’s below deck, ma’am, in the captain’s quarters,” the little man panted as they neared the gangplank.
She swept up the plank, hardly glancing at the guards
, and hastened across the deck and down the steps to the captain’s quarters. Flinging open the door, she rushed inside. Just as her mind registered that there was no one there and then that everyone on deck had looked somehow wrong—no chains—an arm encircled her from behind and a hard hand was clamped across her mouth. Wildly she began to struggle, but the arm was like a steel band pressing into her, and, already short of breath from her run, she slumped into a faint. The room went suddenly black and spinning, and when it finally righted itself, she found that her hands were bound and tied to a small post in the center of the room. The dark figure of Captain Hampton loomed above her. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to scream, only to have Hampton stuff a piece of cloth in her mouth and quickly anchor it with a handkerchief bound around her head.
“I was afraid you might try that,” he said genially. “I can’t stay to talk to you now, but I promise to explain all this later. Soon we’ll be out to sea where you can scream to your heart’s content, and I’ll remove that gag. But for now, you must be patient. Goodbye, my dear.”
He placed a light kiss on her forehead and left the room. She rested her head against the post, trying to recover her breath and her scattered wits. What on earth was happening? The men without chains … the captain had spoken of the open sea… . She could feel the ship begin to move… . They were setting sail, and the only explanation could be that they were escaping! Escaping—and for some reason taking her along with them.
THE SEA
Chapter 6
Quietly, easily, the fishing vessel slipped out of the harbor. The few who noticed the ship presumed that it was being tested. As Hampton anticipated, the familiarity of seeing prisoners aboard made their sailing the ship appear natural. Moreover, the sight of blue-uniformed guards quelled any suspicions that might have been aroused. Until out of sight of the harbor, Hampton gave every indication of going south, but once concealed from view, the ship made a wide sweep and sailed north. No one would expect them to go north, and so that gave them a slight advantage.
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