“Looks that way; we must find a way to alert the magistrate from here.”
“Thomas, look out!” Devin yelled, watching in horror as a sailor hit Thomas over the head with a small wooden plank.
Both knocked unconscious, the two men were tied up, gagged and sent to a cell beneath the lower deck.
When Thomas awoke, he instantly knew where he was—the magazine storeroom—only his father never used to carry canons and ammunition and this particular area was stocked full. He turned to his friend and eyed him trying to get his knots loose. He motioned for him to turn around so he can aid him with his teeth and after a few moments of restrained accomplishment, Thomas finally untied Devin’s gag.
“We’re moving Thomas,” Devin immediately declared, tearing at Thomas’ gag with his own teeth.
Thomas freed himself of the bind and spat out the restriction, “I know.”
“So we are headed out to sea?”
“Seems that way.”
“Katrina will be upset.”
“Katrina was going to be shaken anyway,” Thomas managed to say without looking Devin in the eye.
“Why?”
Thomas met Devin’s hostility, “Because I was going to break my pledge.”
Devin tried to get up on his knees but was unable to from the tense chains that bound him to the floor, “Why you filthy—rotten—scoundrel! I will tear your head off! Cut you down to size, you bloody bastard!”
“Seems I should have left your gag on,” Thomas replied, trying to alleviate the tension.
“You compromised my sister for months, Thomas—and I have been such a fool; I should have insisted your marriage from the very beginning! I allowed your continual liaison because I knew you would do right by her! And now, this bird flies back into your life and openly flirts with you and you’re willing to throw away loyalty for a wench you haven’t seen since you were a lad?”
Thomas bowed his head in shame, “Yes,” he voiced regretfully, “I did compromise your sister and I feel unwell because of it. Your sister has been a good companion and I will always care for her. But,” Thomas voiced, feeling humbled at the moment, “I never allowed myself to love her.”
Devin was livid, “Who said anything about love?! Why, there are countless marriages thriving without it, literally hundreds of lonely wives out there searching for comfort; case in point, Evelyn Moore for one, why I don’t know where I’d be without her sharing my bed.”
Thomas met Devin’s anger and tried to solicit compassion, “And you would have allowed your sister to become one such lonely wife?”
Devin tried to compose himself, “Yes! No!”
Thomas lowered his head, “I love her Devin…I’m in love with Gwendolyn.”
Devin calmed down, and shook his head, “Nonsense Thomas, no one falls in love that fast.”
“Remember when we were twenty and you were infatuated with Lady Anne of Fellows? I remember when you would have done anything to be by her side, including kissing her feet and the ground she walked on. Well, that is how I feel about Gwendolyn, only my obsession for her goes beyond the physical…I would love her even if she had no feet a’ tall.”
“You are breaking my heart Thomas,” Devin stated mocking him.
“I have always loved her is that so hard to believe?”
Devin sat back down onto the ground and bowed his head, “Yes,” he spat out angry, “No,” he said instead, bobbing his head up and down. “I knew it,” he replied, yanking the chains with him as he tried to stretch out his limbs. “I knew it the moment I walked into the library and saw you two together. The way you looked at her Thomas, I have never seen you look at another female that way—and I have been your partner in many a female raid.”
Thomas grinned, “Yes, you have been just like a brother to me Devin, and you know me well enough to know that what I say is the truth. My intentions were worthy when I thought Gwendolyn was deceased, but now that she is alive, how can I walk away from the one person I have always dreamed of being with?”
“Never thought I’d hear another man spew sonnets of love for his lady fair.”
Thomas and Devin tried to focus on the voice approaching in the darkness, gasping at the sight of a man coming into view; he was small but hefty and unaffected by their predicament.
“Sir, you are intruding on a private conversation,” Devin demanded of the stranger.
“My ship,” he stated in his baritone voice, sitting down on a chair just outside the steel bars.
“My ship,” Thomas retorted.
“Your ship?”
“The Junia was stolen ten years ago, sir; and I am here to retrieve it.”
The man bellowed off the top of his lungs, “And it seems yer in a very good position to accomplish the task!”
Thomas’ blood began to boil.
Devin sat unfazed, “And you are?”
“Captain Hummel.”
“Hummel Hobart, the notorious pirate?” Devin asked in shock.
“Everyone gets my name mixed up. It’s Hobart Hummel,” he corrected, puffing on his pipe.
“Last I heard, you turned privateer,” Thomas included.
“Aye, the very one.”
“You stole my ship Captain Hummel and when we return to Britain, I will make sure King George hangs you for the murders of my family.”
He puffed on his pipe before staring straight at Thomas, “Young Hollinger?”
“And the Duke of Norwin, now I demand you let us go!”
“Heard stories yew were alive, lad, but it was not I. Oh, I was on the ship when yer family perished though, but under the direction of Captain Porter.”
“Captain Porter!” Thomas yelled angry, “But I spoke to Captain Porter on his death bed. He said that the pirate Red Retropé was responsible.”
Again, the bandit laughed at the simplicity of the explanation, “Aye, how noble of him to confess his crimes. Captain Porter was Red Retropé, his name merely spelled backwards with French stimulus.”
Thomas gaped at the stranger and then closed his eyes, feeling foolish to his proven point. “He lied to me, even on his death bed, he lied.”
With a chortle still in his scratchy voice, Captain Hummel said, “He contrived his story of vengeance upon the Hollinger’s because he needed usage of the vessel to smuggle trade for King Louis XVI.”
“My family died for that futile obese monarch?”
“Aye.”
Thomas bowed his head in disbelief. “And how is it that you have the Junia?” He asked suspiciously.
“Mutiny, son,” he remarked ominously, “And noble diversion to gain entrance to French waters.”
Thomas did not understand. “Why?”
“To retrieve me daughter.”
“Daughter?” Devin asked now.
“Aye, I too hold devotion to a woman, only this beautiful creature is me one and only offspring. Seven years, I have waited for her to become free. Since that blackheart Bonaparte has been off fighting his many wars throughout Europe, I plan to take back what’s mine.”
“And what of the smuggling we found happening at port?”
“No smuggling on this ship, just a threat to elude questioning eyes.”
“And what is to become of us?” Thomas asked sternly.
“I will use yer peerage to me advantage.”
“And if we refuse?” Devin questioned harshly.
“Then suffer the same consequence as the Hollinger clan,” he barked, staring Devin in the eyes.
Thomas and Devin both shot looks at one another. “When we get to France,” Thomas voiced firmly, “You will surrender the Junia?”
“I never agreed to that…but I will agree to yer safe freedom.”
“On French land!” Devin howled, flabbergasted.
“Or do yew prefer salmon?”
“What does salmon have to do with anything?”
“We’re on our way to Kristiansand, lad.”
“Norway! Whatever for?”
“F
ish, son; have to keep up the merchant trade, then back to Le Havre.”
Thomas closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall in back of him. Three months? It would take nearly three months up to Norway then to France back to English shores, three long months without seeing Gwendolyn. Even a minute felt like an eternity. “What do you want us to do?”
“Go to Versailles and demand yer cousin passage back to Britain.”
Thomas perked up with assuredness, “And who is my supposed cousin?”
“Lady Anne of Fellows.”
“Hold her Charles, hold her,” Phyllis demanded, walking with him, pulling up her skirts and rushing him inside the cottage.
Mary had been playing outside when she caught sight of the carriage and ran behind to greet it. Alarmed at the sight of her mother within Charles’ arms, she shrieked, “What is wrong with Mummie? Why is she like that?”
At ten years of age, Mary Hollinger was a striking child. With long black ringlets surrounding a heart shaped face, her gripping green eyes commanded immediate notice. “Hush now dear, don’t you worry; your mother just needs some bed rest.” Phyllis goes to her side and pats down Mary’s hair, shoulders and motions for Charles to walk with Gwendolyn up the staircase. “Take her to her room Charles, lay her down on the bed, I will get Dr. Peabody.”
Mary pounced on the steps behind Charles, “What is wrong with her? What is wrong with Mummie? If someone does not tell me now, I am going to resort to violence.”
“Dinna go worrying yar little head lassie, yar mother will be fit as a fiddle in a coupla days,” Charles reassured her, making his way towards Gwendolyn’s room.
He laid her onto the bed and instantly knew something went terribly wrong. Gwendolyn’s hair was damp from continued sweat, her tresses pasted to her face, neck and shoulders. She was burning with fever the moment they arrived back in Kettlewell. Gwendolyn could barely stand and fainted on her way out of the carriage.
Mary flew to her mother’s side and held her hand, “Oh Mummie, please, please wake up, please do not die. What will I do without you? I will be all alone, please Mummie, please.” Mary buried her head into her mother’s breast and felt Gwendolyn’s hand reach for her head.
“My darling daughter,” Gwendolyn barely spoke, “Get me some water.”
Mary immediately reacted and ran towards the vanity. Pouring her mother a cup of water, she ran back with it and aided the drink to Gwendolyn. “Here Mummie, now gently, there now, drink Mummie, drink.”
“You do…you do look like him,” Gwendolyn breathed, trying to reach out to touch Mary’s cheek but fell short of doing so.
“Like who? Oh Mummie!” Mary rested her mother’s head back down on the pillow and watched in horror as Gwendolyn closed her eyes and seemed to drift back to stillness. “Mr. McMillen, why is Mummie like this? Why is she so hot?”
Charles scooped off his cap and held it in front of him, “Unsure child, we all ate the same food, slept in the same inns on the way home…and yar mum, yar mum twas the only one tae come down with the fever.”
“Then she is ill then? She needs a cool cloth to her head? That’s what Mummie does for me when I do not feel well,” Mary stated, running towards the basin again. She pulled out a nappy from within a drawer and submerged it in the water. Wringing it twice within her hands, she hurriedly went back to Gwendolyn and gently placed it across her mother’s forehead. “I love you Mummie, I am going to take care of you,” Mary whispered tenderly brushing aside locks of hair that adhered to her cast.
“That’s so sweet of ya Mary, yar mum loves ya so,” Charles remarked, feeling guilty for being so selfish in his haste to make Gwendolyn his wife. “I shouldna taken her,” he gushed, feeling his heart soften, “Shouldna left her there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Captain Hummel instructed his men to set his prisoners free, insisted the two men have supper with him to discuss the plan to free his daughter. Devin was released first, while Thomas was still bound and chained. As soon as his hands were free however, Devin immediately punched Thomas square in the gut.
“That was for getting me into this mess,” Devin sneered, and then punched him again only this time, between his legs. “And that was for my sister.” Thomas hunched over and fell to his knees; Devin counted to five and then came directly to his aid helping him back up to his feet wrapping both arms around his shoulders.
“Well warranted,” Thomas heaved, trying to find his bearings.
Laughing off the top of his lungs, Captain Hummel patted the two lords on their backs as he approached. “I must say lads, I do get a kick out of watching yew two destroy yerselves.” Captain Hummel shoved the two men in front of him playfully, but then Thomas and Devin turned around firm, erect and stared the Captain down. “Oh my, yew lads are tall. Six foot, three? Four? Aye?” He questioned, shifting looks from one to the other, “Come—come, let’s eat—I bet yew boys are famished.”
Inside the first class dining room, Devin noted that the area was planned for meals taken in heavy seas: benches were set in the walls; bottles and glasses were held in racks. Captain Hummel had a generous meal prepared for the three, with roasted meats, hot bread and fresh fruits with an endless supply of rum and wine.
The three of them were in good spirits, until Captain Hummel shed some light on the past. Captain Hummel was no lord. After losing his wife to typhoid, he promised his love that he would take care of their only child. He wanted the best in life for his little girl, giving her everything she ever wanted on a seaman’s salary. Practically raising her aboard ship, he felt Anne required more than merely sea life. She was oftentimes alone, and at eighteen, Captain Hummel decided that he would arrange a mock title for his daughter and present her properly.
Anne was a raving beauty, with dark brown hair and eyes of jade. Stealing practically every bachelor’s attention her first season out, Captain Hummel knew he would have no worries for his daughter catching a husband. Several bachelors approached her, but none as smooth and debonair as Monsieur Antoine Bruneau. Captain Hummel instantly warmed up to his knowledge of the sea and Anne could not take her eyes off him. Thinking the gent was going to propose to his lovely daughter, Captain Hummel granted Monsieur Bruneau a moment alone with Anne. The scoundrel took advantage of the freedom however, and kidnapped Anne as a substitute. Captain Hummel was livid, incensed, he had never encountered a man with such devious intentions and he was once part of a notorious pirating brigade! Unable to set foot on French land due to a bounty on his head, Captain Hummel last heard that his daughter was a house servant for the Empress Josephine.
Devin could not believe what he was hearing. What irony! What a quirk of fate! One his way to France to free the Captains daughter only to be given free passage towards Monsieur Bruneau’s intended doom? He would kill him and as soon as he laid eyes on the slimy weasel, he was going to slice off his tongue, making sure the suave Frenchman would never seduce another young maiden for the rest of his wretched life.
“Have yew ever wondered lad what exactly ensued that fateful eventide?” Captain Hummel eerily asked Thomas who was in mid drink.
“Undoubtedly,” Thomas quietly voiced, sipping the rest of his rum. “Yer brothers gave up such a fight. The elder one managed to untie his knots and grabbed a blade from one of the men and stabbed four men in their guts wit’ it.”
Dare To Love Page 19