Capture My Heart

by Bobbi Smith

"I'm, fine," she answered slowly. "I sent for you because it's time we had a talk . . . a very serious talk."

  Serad stiffened; he could never remember her acting this way. "What do you mean, Aunt Rabi?"

  "I want you to know that you are Alexander Wakefield, the future duke of Huntington," Rabi said quickly, sorrowfully, "and I cannot tell you just how disappointed I am over what you've done."

  Alexander . . . The name touched a chord in his heart. He remembered bits and pieces, but he knew there was a lot he'd forgotten. Still, he was a full-grown man now, a captain of a ship. He had a life he enjoyed in Algiers. Why should he care about the past? His life was here and now. His aunt's criticism hurt, though, and he had to defend himself. "What I have or have not done does not concern you."

  "But it surely does!" Rabi returned. He was still her nephew, and she had raised him. "I never thought that you would do to someone else exactly what had been done to me . . ."

  Serad looked confused. "I don't understand."

  "Twenty years ago, I was young and so very innocent. At the time, I lived at Huntington House with you and my father. It was a safe and wonderful existence. I was engaged to be married to Lord Gerald Ratcliff, the man of my dreams, the man I loved."

  "Why are you telling me this?" he ventured cautiously.

  "Because it's time you heard the complete truth."

  "The complete truth? I don't understand."

  Rabi told him everything, beginning with Avery's betrayal and how they'd ended up on the ship bound for France and then on to how Muhammed had captured them and taken them as prisoners to Algiers . . . and to Malik. When she mentioned their escape attempt from the palace after they'd been given to Malik as payment of tribute, she saw a flicker of remembrance in his eyes.

  "From that night on, after Malik found us and brought us back here, he forbid me to use our real names or speak of our past. He said that if I did, he would separate us and I would never see you again. It was a threat I took very seriously, and I'm taking a great chance even now by revealing all of this to you, but I feel the time has come when I must speak out. I cannot allow you to destroy the life of the young woman you are now keeping in your harem, and you will do that if you do not let her go home to her family. You must release her, Alexander. You must," Rabi deliberately used his English name to jar him.

  "Have you been that miserable here with Malik? Are you truly that unhappy?" he asked, his eyes dark as he reflected on her words. He had always thought Malik to be a fair and honest man, and this tale of behavior that was almost ruthless on his part was troubling.

  "No . . . no. Malik has always treated me with the utmost respect and kindness. But what I want you to understand is that I had no choice in any of this. I was forced to give up my life . . ."

  "Then you are unhappy," he concluded.

  "No. I am not unhappy, but who knows what kind of a life I might have led if I'd been allowed to go home. Don't you understand? My life, my family, and the freedom to choose my own future were all brutally taken from me. My happiness was stolen, and I was never given the chance to get it back." Her eyes reflected the longings of her soul, and the secret heartache she'd lived with all these years. She'd remained there in the harem as Malik's lover, but had always refused his offers of marriage, for she believed in her heart that she still belonged to Gerald.

  Serad was filled with conflicting emotions as he met her eyes. He wanted Tori. He didn't want to free her. Yet, his aunt's story had shown him another side of the situation, and the pain and suffering his actions could ultimately cause. He grew deeply troubled. When he'd returned from the oasis, he'd thought his life was near to perfect. Tori had come to him willingly, and they had made passionate love without restraint. Now, all that was changed.

  "Then you've never really loved Malik?" he challenged.

  "Don't you understand? Someone else planned my life for me. I was never given the chance to choose for myself," she answered slowly.

  "Is it really so terrible for you here?"

  "A cage, gilded or not, is still a cage. But it's not me we're talking about now, it's too late for me. But there's still Tori. Give her her freedom. Allow her to return to her family and her future. What you've done is wrong . . . so terribly wrong!"

  "But I want her, and she wants me," Serad defended himself.

  "And I'm sure you gave her a choice between sharing your bed and going home, didn't you?" she demanded of him fiercely, forcing him to see things from a different perspective. "What right do you have to take from her all she holds precious?"

  "Malik did that to you?"

  "He wanted me as you want Tori."

  Her statement was simple, but it filled him with turmoil. He had thought by making Tori want him that he had won a great victory, but his prize now seemed meaningless. Given the choice, would Tori stay or go? And, more importantly, was he man enough to give her the choice?

  Serad abruptly excused himself and left her. Rabi watched him go. Her heart was aching for him, but she knew she'd done the right thing.

  Hasim called out to Serad as he saw him making his way from the palace. He was startled when his brother gave him a surly look.

  "What is it?" he asked harshly. He had hoped to find someplace where he could think in solitude.

  "Father wants to see you. In fact, we've both been looking for you for a day and a half now."

  "Is there trouble?"

  "Yes. Our informants have told us that Muhammed has plans to assassinate Father. He's refused to pay tribute and has begun to attack our ships in the waters to the west," Hasim explained quickly as they headed for Malik's chambers.

  "Why now after all these years?"

  "No one knows for sure."

  "Does Malik have a plan of what he wants us to do?"

  "Yes, that's what he's been waiting to talk with you about."

  Serad nodded in understanding.

  Malik was pleased when the servant announced that his two sons had come to him. He met them in a small audience chamber and quickly filled Serad in on the details of Muhammed's treacherous villainy.

  "I've always known the man hated me and was my undeclared enemy, so his actions do not altogether surprise me. What does surprise me is that he waited so long."

  "What do you want us to do?"

  Malik outlined his plan. He knew Muhammed was operating out of a certain area off the coast, and he wanted the Scimitar to go after him.

  "Hasim will sail with you and take whatever else you think you'll need. How soon can you be ready to leave?"

  "I'll contact Tariq right away, and then once the crew is on board, we can sail immediately."

  "Fine. I will be looking forward to hearing of your success."

  "So will I," Serad agreed. As he spoke, a memory flashed in his mind of Muhammed looming over him and his aunt all those years ago. When he left Malik and Hasim to prepare for the voyage, Serad couldn't help but think that in bringing Muhammed to his just end, he would also, in a way, be seeking some revenge of his own.

  Tori was in the harem waiting eagerly for Serad to send for her. She had bathed and perfumed herself, and, with Oma's help, she'd donned a native dress just to please him. She wanted to look her best. Her spirits had been bright since they'd returned from the oasis, and any time a less than pleasant thought appeared on the horizon of her mind to mar her happiness, she pushed it aside. She loved Serad. He had been kind and attentive and wonderful, and she had thrown all caution to the wind and allowed herself to care for him. She could hardly wait to be in his arms again.

  Jonesey had been very worried about her while she'd been gone, but Tori had convinced her that everything was fine. Though the older woman had remained concerned, she'd held her tongue and decided to wait and see what would happen.

  Tori was sitting in her bedchamber, biding her time, when Oma appeared, carrying a dinner tray.

  "Where is Serad? Am I not going to dine with him tonight?" she asked in confusion, a little hurt by what she perceived a
s a rejection. She had imagined they would share a quiet meal and then spend another heavenly night in each other's arms.

  "No. He is leaving within the next hour and will be gone for some time," Oma replied.

  "What?" Tori was shocked. How could he be leaving? "Doesn't he want to see me?"

  "No. He did not request you."

  Her answer outraged Tori. How could Serad not want to see her after what they'd just shared? How could Oma stand there and tell her so calmly that he was leaving? For a moment, Tori knew a terrible sense of forboding, but she shoved it away. She was confident that there had to be some mistake, so she boldly announced, "Then I will go to him."

  "I do not think that would be wise . . ." Oma began, but she was too late, Tori was already out of the room and heading for Serad's bedchamber.

  "Serad?" Tori said his name as she came through the door without preamble. "Oma said that you were leaving and . . ." She stopped as she found him in conversation with the man she knew as Tariq from the ship. His servant was also there, packing a trunk for him.

  Serad, Tariq, and the servant all looked up in shock. It was unheard of for a woman to venture from the harem to seek out a man.

  "What are you doing here?" Serad demanded. Even though he was irritated by the intrusion, for it distracted him from concentrating on the deadliness of his upcoming mission, he couldn't help but think of how absolutely gorgeous Tori looked in the Algierian gown. He was sure she'd worn it just for him, and he suffered an immediate and potent jolt of desire. With an effort, he fought it down.

  "Serad . . . I . . ." Tori swallowed nervously. The cold-eyed man she faced was not the same man she'd spent several days making love with.

  "I did not send for you." He was worried about Malik and still feeling the pain from his aunt's story. The last thing he'd needed right then was to see Tori and be reminded of just how much he wanted her.

  "I know, but . . ."

  "I will take her back to the harem," the servant offered.

  "Fine, do that. Then return and finish what you were doing," Serad dictated.

  So abruptly and arrogantly dismissed, Tori suddenly felt violently ill. Her love for him had been a folly. He hadn't really changed. Serad was just what she'd always thought he was—a barbaric pirate and nothing more. She had romanticized him into someone who didn't exist. She was his possession to be used and discarded at his whim. He had told her that often enough. How could she have forgotten?

  Straightening her shoulders, Tori turned without another word and left Serad's chambers. She had come to tell him that she missed him. Now, she was leaving heartbroken in the knowledge that she'd never meant anything more to him than any one of his other servants. Biting her lip to quell her tears, she didn't wait for the servant to lead her, but returned to the harem ahead of him.

  Serad had seen her expression change from one of happiness to hurt, and though he longed to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right, he couldn't right then. Vowing to talk to her later, he turned his attention back to Tariq and went on with their planning.

  Rabi passed a troubled evening. She had no idea what effect her talk with Serad had on him, and while she hoped it would make a difference, she feared deep down inside that it wouldn't, for he had been under the male-dominated Algerian influence for far too long.

  When Almira confirmed for her later that night that Serad had left his home and was readying the Scimitar to sail on orders from Malik, she put her plan to free Tori and her companion into action. Knowing that it was essential her efforts be kept in strictest secret, she had Almira make all the necessary contacts to smooth the escape of the two Englishwomen to freedom. Fearful of putting anything into writing lest Malik discover her intrigue, Rabi sent her messages strictly by word of mouth.

  First, Rabi notified the Redemptorist Fathers, who worked in the city arranging for the ransom and return of Christian captives, that there would be two women coming to them soon and that they should be prepared to rush them out of Algiers as quickly as possible. When word came back from the priests late that very night that a ship would be leaving for London the very next afternoon, Rabi knew she had to press onward. She waited until after midnight and then sent Almira to Serad's home.

  Tori was lying on her bed, unable to sleep, staring off into the darkness with sightless eyes. She felt trapped and miserable. She had not spoken to Jonesey since returning from her ill-fated attempt to see Serad, and she was glad. She didn't think she would have been able to bear it if the other woman had witnessed her pain. A sound just outside her window drew her attention, and Tori rose from her bed to see what or who was there.

  "Are you Tori?" a woman's hushed voice called.

  "Yes . . ." Tori could make out the image of a woman dressed in the traditional Algerian garb, her face and head covered with her haik so that only her eyes showed.

  "I must speak with you. It is urgent."

  Tori was at a loss to imagine just who this could be or what she wanted. "Why?"

  "I've been sent here to help you escape from Algiers," the voice responded softly. "We must talk privately. We can't let anyone know . . ."

  Tori left the window and rushed outside to meet with the woman. She was careful to make sure she wasn't observed. She didn't know who this woman was, but she felt certain she was a godsend.

  "I know that you and your companion are here against your will, and I've come to tell you that arrangements have been made to help you leave here tonight and sail for home tomorrow."

  "Who would do this for me? And why?"

  "That is not for you to know. Only know that it is someone who understands your situation and wants to offer you comfort. Will you go?"

  "Yes." Tori needed no time to think about that decision.

  "What of your companion?"

  "She'll go, too. There's no need to even ask."

  "Good. Be quiet then, for we can't risk rousing any of Serad's servants. Dress as I am dressed so you won't draw any attention to yourself while we make the journey through the streets. I'll wait here for you, but we must leave quickly."

  "I understand, and I thank you."

  Tori went back inside, making sure that her movements were furtive and silent. She sought out the sleeping Jonesey and woke the older woman with care.

  "Miss Victoria! What is it?"

  "Shhh . . ." Tori held a finger up to her lips to silence her. "Keep your voice down. There's someone here who says they can help us escape."

  "What?"

  "She's waiting for us in the court, but we have to hurry and dress."

  "We're going home?"

  "That's what she said. Come on, we must go while we have the chance."

  Jonesey threw on her clothes and then followed Tori to her bedchamber, where she donned one of the robelike garments, too. That done, they crept from the harem and out into the court where the mysterious woman waited.

  Almira had secluded herself behind some foliage and when she saw the two women appear, she went out to get them. "Stay close behind me and look neither left nor right. Keep your eyes down as much as possible. You didn't forget anything, did you?" she asked as they moved quietly from the house.

  Tori cast one last glance back at the house. She thought of how happy she'd been when she'd returned from the desert, and she thought of the heartbreak that had been hers for daring to dream.

  "No. I haven't forgotten a thing," Tori answered flatly.

  But as she disappeared into the night, she couldn't help but question the empty feeling inside her and wonder if she'd left her heart behind.

  It had been four days since the Scimitar had sailed from Algiers, and Serad and Hasim felt certain that they were closing in on Muhammed and his band of traitorous cutthroats. The crew of the Scimitar was ready and willing to fight, for they loved Malik Dey and gave him their full allegiance. With speed and intent, they scoured the seas where Malik had told them Muhammed had been plying his devilry, and they were rewarded for their search late
that afternoon when the lookout spotted the other ship.

  Serad's orders were fast and succinct as he prepared to attack. Sails were set and the course laid out. Fleet as they were, they intercepted the evil pirate's ship and the fighting began. The struggle that ensued was a fierce and ugly one. When the smoke had cleared, Muhammed's vessel was mortally wounded and sinking fast. Darkness fell across the waters and hampered their efforts to find survivors from the other ship. By the time dawn came, there was nothing left to mark Muhammed's grave.

  The Scimitar had sustained some damage in the battle. Though she would be sailing home far more slowly than she'd sailed out, the general mood on board was good. Hasim was well satisfied with the outcome of the battle, and he knew his father would also be pleased that his arch enemy had been killed.

  Serad's mood, however, did not match that of the other men, and he had retired to his cabin for much-needed solitude. Now that the challenge of Muhammed had been met and dealt with, he had time to think. It was not a pleasant thing for him to have to face, this forfeiting of a treasure so valued. The more he considered the decision he had to make the more torn he became.

  Serad tried to tell himself that all women were alike, that Tori was no more special than the next, but he knew that was not true. She was special. She was wonderful. As he looked around the cabin he was inundated with memories of the days and nights they'd spent here . . . of her sleeping on the floor in defiance of him, of her bathing in his tub, and finally, annoyingly, of the moment when he'd torn the proof of the other man's claim upon her from around her neck. Even now he felt the pang of resentment for the unknown man, and he acknowledged that he had come to care deeply for her . . . that he had come to love her.

  That thought, so unbidden, struck Serad suddenly and forcefully. He was jarred to the very depths of his soul by the revelation and could only stare about himself in bewilderment. Love? He loved her?

  Serad felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he accepted the truth of his feelings for Tori. But at the very same time he felt even more confused, for his aunt's chastisements were still battering his conscience. If he loved Tori, and he knew now that he did, how could he not want what was best for her? If he loved her, wouldn't he have to be honorable enough to allow her to make her own decisions about her life?