Something caught his eye, and he realized suddenly that a jug was being passed around. He slammed his fist against the wooden railing. This was the reason he had wanted her kept below. A woman was bad luck on a ship, especially one such as his, and she did not realize how she was incensing his men.
He noticed that she appeared frightened and was moving sideways along the railing, away from the crowd of men. Good. Perhaps there would be no trouble. In a little while, he would send Garrís and his men down there to break up the revelry. For the moment, he would allow the crew to carry on since they were going to be punished anyway for breaking the rules about drinking on board.
He drew on his pipe thoughtfully, thinking how Julie's fright would make her glad to stay below for the remainder of the voyage.
The door behind him opened, and he turned to see Edsel Garris stepping up beside him. Scanning the scene, he sucked in his breath, shocked, then faced his captain to cry, "Sir, she left the dining room over an hour ago and said she was retiring for the night. I had no idea she'd slipped up on deck. And those men appear to be drinking—"
"They're drunk, most of them," Derek commented tonelessly. "Someone began passing the jug, and what started out as a quiet little song fest is now a bawdy party."
He had been facing Edsel, and now he turned his gaze back to the deck. Leaning forward, he cried, "Goddammit, she's struggling with someone. Get down there quick—"
But Edsel was already through the door, taking the thin plank steps two at a time. The first officer made his way down below, yelling for Watson and Justice to come quickly and bring their side arms. They answered his call, demanding to know what was happening, but he cried that there was no time to explain and urged them to hurry.
The three crashed through the opening onto the deck, pistols drawn. The crewmen, drunk though they were, saw them and immediately the revelry ceased, as though a giant, unseen hand had passed and dropped a shroud of silence over them.
Then they could all hear it—the muffled cries and moans as Julie struggled in the darkness beyond with Shad. The sailors moved aside as the officers picked their way over the riggings and ropes, making their way toward the sounds.
Edsel arrived on the scene first, swearing as he swung his booted foot to kick the side of Shad's head, sending him sprawling sideways with a startled cry of pain. Justice reached to scoop Julie quickly to her feet, and she sagged gratefully against him as he wrapped his arms about her.
"Take her to her cabin," Edsel ordered. "Make sure she's all right. Watson, help me get this bastard below. We'll put him in chains. I've a feeling this time his neck will stretch, for sure."
Julie kept her face pressed against Floyd Justice's chest as he helped her away from the scene. "Would you like for me to carry you?" he asked worriedly.
She murmured feebly that she could walk. She felt so foolish, so embarrassed.
Floyd felt her trembling and patted her awkwardly as they reached the steps leading below. "It's going to be all right," he tried to comfort her. "It's over. I just hope you aren't hurt."
Just as they were about to descend, the outraged bellow came, splitting the heavens with its vociferousness. They turned to see Shad struggling against Edsel and Watson as they held him between them.
"I'm gonna get you!" he screamed at Julie. And then he turned his face upward, in a direction beyond her view, and he bellowed once again: "I'll get you, too, you sonofabitch. I'll see you dead! Goddamn you, Ironheart...."
Then he slumped forward, making a grunting sound, and hung limply between the two officers. Julie knew one of them must have silenced his tirade. Her body quivering, she allowed Floyd to help her on down the steps, thankful to depart the scene.
Just as they reached the door to her cabin, the one opposite swung open. Her mother stood there, clutching her robe to her throat, mouth agape. "Oh, dear God!" she whispered, swaying, reaching out to steady herself against the door facing her. "Julie, what has happened?..."
Floyd helped Julie inside the cabin, where she slumped gratefully down to the bed. Her mother hovered nearby, demanding to know what was going on.
When he had covered Julie with a blanket, Floyd turned to her mother and told her as gently as possible about Shad's attack.
"I'm all right." Julie was surprised at the calmness with which she could speak. "He didn't succeed with what he was trying to do. The officers got there in time."
Her mother sat down and put her arms around Julie. "But what were you doing up on deck? You said you were going to bed a long while ago."
Wearily, she shook her head and sank back on the pillow. "It doesn't matter now. It's over. I just don't want to think about it anymore."
Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out the sounds of Mr. Justice telling her mother what little he knew of the incident, and that Shad Harky was being placed in chains. "There's no telling what the captain will do to him now. Mr. Garris says he'll probably hang."
Julie didn't want to think about that possibility, either. She just wished none of it had happened.
There was a soft rap on the door, and Floyd opened it and murmured, "Oh, Jenkins, it's you."
Julie opened one eye and saw a disheveled crewman standing just inside the cabin, looking quite uncomfortable as he explained to Officer Justice that Officer Garris had told him to come. "He says the captain insists on knowing if Miss Marshal is hurt."
Julie just wished they would all go away and leave her alone. "I've got a few bruises, probably, and I'm a bit sore, but I'll be all right if all of you would just let me rest."
There was an awkward silence, and the crewman repeated apologetically that the captain wanted to be sure.
Julie had closed her eyes, but she sensed someone leaning over her, and she looked up to see Floyd's slightly flushed face as he whispered tensely, "I'm afraid Jenkins will have to examine you, Miss Marshal. He used to be a doctor—"
"Used to be?" she echoed, stunned. "Mr. Justice, I'm afraid I don't understand."
"He was run out of the town where he was practicing, because of his drinking," he hurriedly explained. "A patient died when he bungled the man's treatment because he was drunk. The captain signed him on to have someone around when we need a doctor. It's all right. He's perfectly competent, since he's sober. He wasn't involved in the drinking tonight. Now he must examine you. I'm sorry."
Julie knew what they were thinking. "Shad Harky did not do that," she ground out the words. "And I will not be examined. Now will you all please leave me so I can get some rest?"
"I'll tell the Captain you refuse an examination, and I'll have some brandy sent to help you relax." He hurried out, the doctor right behind him.
Her mother helped her get into a nightgown, admonishing her all the while for disobeying orders. "I hope you've learned a lesson, dear. Let's be thankful it wasn't worse."
Edsel Garrís arrived with a bottle of brandy and insisted that Julie have a drink. "The captain is quite concerned, and I'm to report to him and assure him that you are all right."
"Concerned!" Julie snorted with disdain. "So he sends you. He isn't concerned enough to inquire personally. He sends his lackey."
Her lids grew heavy as the brandy made her relaxed and sleepy. She closed her eyes, the sounds of her mother's and Edsel's conversation drifting further and further away... finally disappearing completely as she dropped off into blessed oblivion.
* * *
She awoke with a start.
The dim grayish-rose light peeking through the porthole told her that night was almost over and dawn was breaking in the east. She had slept soundly, but what had awakened her? Trying to focus her eyes in the haziness, she sat up, apprehension making her flesh tingle.
And then she saw the shadow of a man. He was leaning against the little desk in the corner. Gasping with fright, she clutched the blankets tightly to her chin and cried, "Who's there?" as a scream bubbled deep in her throat.
A husky, mellow voice answered, "I thought I should prove my
concern by inquiring personally. I understand you stated your doubts to my first officer to the point of dubbing him my lackey." He sounded slightly mocking.
While Julie could not see his face, she could distinguish that he was a large man. The image of the captain she had conjured was of a withered, sour old creature who hated the world and everyone in it, including himself. The richly masculine voice that touched her ears did not sound like that of an old man, nor was he small and shriveled.
Propping herself up on the pillows, she took a deep breath and silently vowed not to let herself be intimidated. "I hardly call the middle of the night an appropriate time for a personal call, Captain."
"It's dawn, Miss Marshal. My ship comes alive at dawn, but of course you wouldn't know that since you sleep till mid-morning."
"And how would you know my sleeping habits?" she snapped. "You never come out of wherever it is that you hide."
He laughed. "I know everything that goes on around here. I know my men, too, particularly Harky, and perhaps now you understand why I didn't want you up on deck."
It was becoming lighter in the cabin, the sky turning a glowing watermelon pink. Julie could tell that the captain's arms were folded across his chest and his legs were slightly apart. His face remained hidden by the lingering shadows.
"All right. You've paid a personal visit. I thank you for your concern, but I'm quite all right, as you see." Then she asked what he planned to do with Shad Harky.
Again his tone was mocking, infuriating her as he asked, "What would you have me to do with him? You were his victim."
Flustered, she replied, "Well, my goodness, I don't know. He was drunk, and even though I'm angry and upset over what he tried to do, I don't want to see him dead. Mr. Justice said this time he would probably hang. Last time you scarred his face."
"I've always been a firm believer that a person must learn from his mistakes. If he's punished severely enough, he seldom repeats them. Shad Harky is a scummy rogue who'll never learn anything, no matter how many times he's beaten. He could just as easily have killed you last night. He's killed before, but that was before he signed on board my ship. Many of my men are guilty of heinous crimes, but I don't hold their past against them; I only consider their present actions." Grimly he added, "Harky's had too many second chances."
"Then you'll hang him."
"I should. If I don't, it will set a poor example for my men. They'll think they can break the rules over and over and get away with it. So I really don't have a choice, now, do I?"
Julie's mind was spinning. True, she was angry with Shad. She never wanted to see him again. But to see him die because of her? And yes, she would have to share the blame for what had happened. Too late, she realized how foolhardy it had been to go on deck and sing and mingle with the crew. Had she stayed below, none of it would have happened. "Can't you just throw him off your ship when you reach port?" she asked hopefully.
He was silent for a long time, and she saw that he was packing a pipe. He lit it, drew in the smoke, and exhaled. She found the aroma of the tobacco pleasant. And it suited him, somehow.
"I understand you have a very soft heart." He finally spoke. "That is commendable, but I've a ship to run. I can't tolerate last night's behavior. Every man who was drinking will receive three lashes. They all know I don't allow drinking on board my ship.
"Harky has been punished once for trying to rape a female passenger, and the punishment was quite severe," he acknowledged. "But I told him at the time that a repeated offense would mean his death. Obviously he didn't take me seriously, and my men must believe me when I speak."
"Oh, damn!" she cried in exasperation. "Why is it so important to you that the men fear you? Are you suffering from some feeling of inferiority that makes you want people to bow down to you as though you were God Himself? Does it give you a perverted delight to know they call you Ironheart behind your back, or perhaps you do indeed have a heart of iron, with no compassion for your fellow man!"
His tone did not change, and she knew she had failed in her attempt to goad him. "I've a ship to run. I can't do so efficiently without the respect of my crew. And it's their respect I demand. If fear must accompany that respect, then so be it."
He hesitated, then continued. "Tell me, Miss Marshal. What if Harky had been successful in his assault, and you had been ravished? Would you still plead for his life, or would you be demanding his death?"
She shook her head, blinking back the hot tears of frustration. "I don't know. I just wish none of this had happened. Please, just leave me alone."
But he made no move to leave. She jerked the blankets all the way up over her head and lay very still. She could feel him staring at her. When he did speak, she was stunned.
"There's no denying you have a lovely body."
She threw back the blankets and stared incredulously at him. Then she realized it was dawn at last, and the cabin was light enough for her to see him and make out his features. She was startled to find him handsome. His hair was dark, the color of rich, warm coffee. Long, thick lashes fringed eyes as black as the murky swamp waters of the Savannah marshes.
He was quite muscular, with brawny arms and shoulders. The shirt he wore was open to the waist, and his chest was covered with thick, curly hair that trailed down to his waist and seemed to ripple with each breath he drew.
Her eyes moved downward to tight pants stretched across strong, hard thighs. She sensed something quite fascinating about him, his lips slanted in a mocking smile, the long, straight nose with nostrils that flared ominously, the penetrating gaze as though he could see to the very depths of her soul. He looked dangerous and feral, and despite her determination not to be intimidated by this man, she fought the impulse to wither beneath his almost impudent stare. He exuded strength, as though he could easily crush the breath of life from a man with his bare hands.
Finally she found her voice once again, and choked out her indignant reaction. "How dare you say such a thing?"
He smiled lazily. "From where I stood last night, even I could appreciate such a fine figure of a woman."
He moved quickly, like the sleek black panther she had once glimpsed in the swamps. He was beside her, and she shrank back into the mattress as he towered above her. "I knew you'd have green eyes," he murmured, "as green as the cold, dark currents of the deepest waters. But I see a fire in them, a warmth, and when your passion is aroused, I'll wager they blaze like the sea at sunrise."
She could only stare at him, her lips parting and closing in surprise.
He chuckled. "You think me some kind of monster, don't you? I have my men beaten, keelhauled, and I possess the power to take their lives. You find all this repugnant. That shows the stupidity of women. You've no knowledge of how brutal and dominant a captain must be to run his ship and keep his men under control."
"I... I don't find you anything," she said nervously, not liking his nearness, the way his eyes kept moving over her as though she were naked. "You're nothing to me. I wish you would just go away—"
"But what about Harky?"
There was that mocking smile once more. He drew on his pipe thoughtfully, then set it aside on the desk. He took a deep breath, and the hairs on his chest rippled once more. "I will tell you what I intend to do. I'll have him kept in chains till you decide his fate. Since you're the one who was attacked, and you seem to find my methods of punishment so harsh, then you will be judge and jury. Do you find that fair?"
"Fair?" She sputtered angrily, "I want no part of it. I only want to be left alone. I can assure you I won't go on deck again till we reach Bermuda, when I'll gladly take my leave of this ship. Until then, I want nothing to do with you or your men, and that includes your officers. I'll take my meals in my cabin, and—"
But he was not listening to her outburst. He moved closer, his arms wrapping about her to pull her against him, his lips crushing down upon hers.
For an instant she was so stunned by his movements that she could do nothing but l
ay there, frozen. His lips were warm, teasing, and his tongue thrust inside her mouth and moved about deliciously. Suddenly she came alive and began to beat upon his back with her fists, but she was no match for his strength.
A powerful hand moved to caress her breasts. She felt herself yielding despite her fury over his boldness. Her brain screamed that it was insane, yet she acknowledged he was awakening in her a hunger she had not known existed so intensely, so fiercely. She could feel a warmth in her loins, and fought wildly within herself to keep from melting against him and reveling in the pleasure that she felt in every pore of her skin.
Abruptly he released her, staring down with those ebony eyes. "You liked that, didn't you? You may not admit it to me, but you can't hide the truth from yourself. And that's certainly no way for a woman to behave when she's betrothed to another man."
"You—you savage!" She shoved at his chest with both hands but felt as though she were pushing against stone. "You had no right...."
"You needed that," he said quietly, moving away. "You need a lot more. But you're lucky. When it comes to ladies, as strong as my needs are, I try to control myself."
"You do have a heart of iron," she screamed in rage. "Get out of my cabin... now!" She reached out for the first object she could fasten her hands about—the brandy bottle—and sent it sailing through the air. He ducked as the glass shattered against the wall just above his head.
"Perhaps you could melt my heart of iron." He cocked his head to one side, a smile playing on his lips as his dark eyes twinkled mischievously. "But I will go now and let you rest. We'll meet again."
He paused at the door. "Remember. Shad Harky's fate is in your hands, not mine. Send me a message when you decide what that fate will be."
And then he was gone. Julie stared at the closed door, trembling. He had aroused her. There was no denying that fact, just as she could not deny that she found him quite handsome. Still, there was something about him that incensed her to the point of near-hysterical rage. It was best, she decided, that she remain secluded, for she would not relish another encounter with him.
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