Mistress Below Deck

by Helen Dickson

  Suddenly there was a shot and a puff of white smoke from across the water, from the British man-of-war, then another, and white fire struck Mason between his shoulders. Then, with a look of immense surprise on his face, dropping his sword, he fell to his knees before he slumped forward on to his face. Blood spurted from his back, spreading in an immense red stain across his shoulders.

  Glancing at the naval vessel that had drawn level, Tobias saw several musketeers on board firing at the pirates. Looking down at Mason, he nudged him with his foot. He did not move. With her eyes wide in her stricken face, Rowena could not believe that the man who had brought so much misery to her family and others was dead. She wanted to go to him and hit him, to slash his vicious face with a knife, to cut out his evil heart and feed it to the gulls screeching and squawking overhead as they circled the three vessels.

  But, no, how could she? She had not been raised to be a defiler of the dead. Pain rippled through her. Slowly she rose to her feet, and, looking around, saw the carnage on the decks of the corsair vessel. The fighting had stopped and the crew of the Cymbeline were rounding up some of the defeated pirates. Others had fled to their own vessel and taken to the longboats, pulling away from the badly damaged ship with all their strength, their frantic exertions carrying them swiftly towards the north African coast three miles distant.

  Trembling uncontrollably, a weariness was in Rowena like a weight, pressing intolerably upon her heart. She thought her terror must have driven her mad after all, for there, in front of her, was Tobias, and she thanked God with all her being that he wasn’t dead.

  Tobias fell to one knee and looked at her. Her hair was matted, her skin filthy and encrusted with salt, her face tense and deathly pale. When she raised her eyes and gazed up at him, tears clumped on her long black lashes, her beauty caught him like an unexpected blow to the chest, for never had she looked lovelier than this.

  ‘Rowena?’

  She stared dumbly at him, and although she tried to speak her lips made no sound. Tears prickled in her eyes and the sheer weight of what she had been through—the excruciating terror of the hours she had been held captive and then watching Jack Mason die—overwhelmed her and seemed to eat into the deepest recesses of her mind. Tobias’s kindness sharpened it almost beyond bearing. She wanted to thank him, but her throat was choked.

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ Tobias murmured gently to reassure her. ‘Mason cannot harm you now.’

  She nodded and began to shiver violently.

  Taking her hand, Tobias drew her away from curious eyes. The sun warmed her. She was grateful.

  ‘Rowena… Answer me, I implore you. Are you all right?’

  Again she nodded.

  ‘What happened?’ Panic stiffened his face as his blue eyes searched hers. ‘Dear Christ! Am I too late?’

  She fumbled hopelessly for words. Unable to see the suffering in her eyes when she raised them to his, Tobias could not resist doing the thing that seemed most natural—to take hold of her and wrap his arms around her. His heart was emotionally exhausted after the extremes of rage, anguish and guilt that he’d experienced ever since he had found she’d gone—and the vengeance he’d exacted on Mason could not erase any of it. The fear he had felt when he’d discovered her gone, that any harm could come to her, made him enfold her more tightly.

  ‘It’s over. I’ve just had a brush with death and it tends to put everything into perspective. Jane is returned to you and Jack Mason is dead. He cannot hurt you or Jane or your father any more, so let us put all this behind us and concentrate on getting you home.’

  At last Rowena found her voice. ‘Oh, Tobias. Thank God you came. He’d been waiting for me in Sale, ever since he saw me that day—you remember?—biding his time. He knew why we were there.’

  The pain in her voice cut sharp as a knife. He felt a surge of deep compassion as she huddled against him. He held her more tightly, trying to communicate some of his male warmth to her and to still her trembling. Holding her a little away from him, he regarded her closely and she felt her thoughts probed by careful fingers.

  ‘My lovely Rowena,’ he whispered. She gazed up at him and his heart clenched at the world of vulnerability behind the blue-green blaze of her eyes. Drawing her back into his arms, he placed his lips against her hair. A dark rage filled him that she should have been made to suffer. ‘It doesn’t matter. Mason is dead and you are alive. That’s the most important thing. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I am here to look after you.’

  She buried her face in his chest. ‘Tobias—he—he…’

  ‘Don’t. Not now,’ he said hoarsely. He wanted to soothe away her fears as he would a frightened child. Somehow he must help her to rebuild her self-esteem, but it was hard for him to talk quietly, rationally, when mounting passion was making his own heart beat fast, drawing him to her. ‘It’s over. You are safe. When I realised you were gone, I did everything I could to find you. It wasn’t until I saw the Seadog, which I knew was Mason’s vessel, that I realised he must have taken you.’

  ‘He—he tried to…but…’

  Tobias pulled away and looked down into her face, hope lighting his features. ‘He—he didn’t—’

  ‘No,’ she cried with a shudder, ‘but I thought he would.’

  ‘Thank God,’ Tobias murmured softly, relieved to see her beginning to relax as the tension left her. ‘But you are safe. Take heart. Your ordeal is over.’ Placing his fingers under her chin, he tilted her face up to his and smiled, his piercingly blue eyes soft with warmth. ‘I hope I don’t offend your feminine sensibilities by suggesting you hoped I would come to your rescue?’

  A tremulous smile quavered on her lips. ‘What kept you?’

  ‘The fact that I didn’t know what the hell had happened to you, and a sea fret that almost swallowed us up. But come, I’ll help you back on to the Cymbeline and then I must meet with the commander of the naval vessel. Jane has been out of her mind with worry and will be relieved to see you returned unharmed.’

  ‘I can’t think of anything I would like more that to see Jane—apart from a bath. I must look awful and smell even worse.’

  He grinned. ‘That’s more like the Rowena I know.’

  She looked down at Jack Mason. ‘He has got what he deserved. Is revenge sweet, Tobias?’

  ‘Do not be misled, Rowena.’ His voice was quiet and subdued. ‘There is revenge, then there is justice. Sometimes the two must be dealt with as one.’

  The cold logic of his statement made her shudder. Almost fearfully she enquired, ‘And your revenge—or justice—is it still directed at my father?’

  He countered her question with one of his own. ‘Has he not done wrong against me?’

  ‘I don’t know any more, Tobias. I can only hope that, when we reach England, all will be resolved.’

  * * *

  An official-looking naval officer, Captain Ryan, climbed aboard the Cymbeline to speak to Tobias. After making his acquaintance, he looked down at Mason with distaste. ‘I’ve been after this devil for months. He’s been cruising the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, preying on legitimate shipping for long enough. Got his consort a while back. And you?’

  ‘Mason and I had—unfinished business.’

  ‘Well—I hope it’s done with now. You’ve been to Sale?’

  Tobias nodded. ‘And Meknes—to pay ransom for a captive in the sultan’s harem.’

  ‘You were successful in getting her out?’

  ‘Aye, thank God. You know about the treaty signed by his Majesty King George?’

  Captain Ryan’s lips twisted with derision. ‘I do. It won’t last. Treaties have been drawn up and signed by Moulay Ismail before. This treaty will be no different. He will renege on the agreement. In no time at all he’ll tear it up—as he did the treaty he signed with Queen Anne. Where do you go next?’

  ‘Back to England, but I intend to stop at Gibraltar on the way.’

  ‘Then allow me to escort you. We’ll have a drink toget
her—toast the demise of another damned corsair. What do you say, Mr Searle?’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  Captain Ryan returned to his ship with a sense of one more victory.

  * * *

  The Cymbeline sailed on, leaving the naval vessel to deal with the pirate ship and the prisoners. Most of the Cymbeline’s crew were for burning it with the prisoners on board when the booty had been taken off. Captain Ryan had decided to sink the vessel, which had begun listing badly. Some of the sailors spent most of their time nursing wounds, but they were triumphant to have got rid of Jack Mason.

  Now their mission was accomplished and all Rowena’s concerns about Jane were set aside, her mind turned to the bargain she had made with Tobias. Suddenly everything was changed and she became aware of Tobias as never before. No matter how she tried to keep him at arm’s length, spending time with Jane in the cabin Mark had vacated as the ship sailed to Gibraltar, though she kept herself well occupied, it was impossible to ignore him.

  Tobias watched her as closely as she did him, and often when she wasn’t looking at him she could feel the heat of his eyes boring holes into her back. What manner of man was this who crept into her dreams, who spied upon her very mind? She could not bring herself to face Tobias Searle, who was silently demanding that her side of the bargain must be met.

  * * *

  The cabin was hot. Tobias had eaten his meal and was sitting relaxed at the table. Having cleared everything away, Rowena was about to leave when his hand shot out and took hold of her wrist. Gasping, she spun round. Mocking blue eyes gazed back at her. She tried to pull her wrist free and he laughed.

  ‘Easy, my love.’ Now his eyes glinted like hard metal. ‘I have a distinct feeling that you have been avoiding me of late. Is there a reason for this?’

  ‘No—of course there isn’t.’ She sounded sharp and in control, but underneath it panic had set in. He let go of her wrist and she backed away from him.

  Tobias’s teeth flashed in his bronze skin as he laughed again and Rowena could only remark the resemblance he bore to a swarthy pirate. He rose to his feet and his eyes smiled at her, touching her everywhere. A flush mounted her cheeks as she experienced not for the first time that sensation of being stripped by his bold gaze.

  ‘You and I have unfinished business to discuss, Rowena. I would like to talk to you.’

  ‘Talk?’ she repeated. He nodded. She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What do you want to talk about?’

  ‘Us. There is the matter of the bargain we made.’

  ‘Bargain?’ she said tentatively. The way he was looking at her made her feel like a hen before a wily fox.

  ‘Aye, bargain, Rowena. A promise is a promise. Was it so lightly spoken to be discarded at your will? Will you not see out the bargain we made?’ He raised a dark brow and considered her flushed cheeks and the soft trembling mouth.

  ‘I—I—yes,’ she stammered.

  He surveyed her panicky expression. ‘Suppose you tell me why the prospect of lying with me suddenly seems to alarm you.’

  ‘It doesn’t,’ she denied desperately, thinking it might be a mistake to admit to any form of weakness. ‘It—it’s just difficult—on ship, with Jane and a crew never far away.’

  ‘I agree. This is hardly a fit place for a tryst, but there are ways.’ His fingers wandered lightly up her arm and his smile broadened into a rakish grin, more like the Tobias Rowena had known in Falmouth.

  ‘What kind of ways?’ she asked, immensely aware of the effect of his fingertips brushing her arm beneath the loose sleeve of her shirt and the magnetism his body was suddenly exuding.

  ‘You’ll see, and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Are you not the slightest bit interested, Rowena? Will you surrender to me willingly?’

  She looked deep into his fathomless eyes. The memory of the time they had spent on the beach was still incredibly, vibrantly fresh in her mind, and the prospect of repeating what they had shared, just for a few hours, seemed irresistibly, sweetly appealing.

  She nodded finally and softly said, ‘Yes—as you wish.’

  Chapter Eleven

  The ship put in at the Gibraltar, which was a base for a British garrison. Here the crew would enjoy a brief dalliance with the raven-haired strumpets that hung around the harbour. Jane took the opportunity to acquire some decent European clothes, enabling her to discard the hated hijab. Rowena envied her, wishing she too could throw off her cabin-boy guise and present herself in feminine attire, but Tobias warned her against it. She had to be content with a new shirt and a hat to replace the one she had lost.

  The town was enclosed by impressive walls, the oldest being those of the Moorish castle complex. Narrow passages and steps that climbed steeply between the buildings could be found in the upper part of the town. This was where Rowena accompanied Tobias one evening, when Jane had retired to her bed, complaining of a headache brought on by spending too much time in the hot sun—fortuitous for Tobias, for it gave him the opportunity to secrete Rowena away from the ship without questions being asked.

  It was almost dark and the air was still as Rowena accompanied him towards the house set within its own grounds behind tall iron gates. They were admitted to the house by an elderly Spanish woman, who greeted them in broken English. They followed her into a small courtyard filled with tubs of exotic plants. Rowena paused for a moment, drawing deep breaths of the warm, perfumed night air.

  ‘Where are we? Whose house is this?’ Apprehension was creeping over her.

  ‘Trust me.’

  The woman gestured for them to follow, leading them through a series of elegant salons and down a short staircase to a lower level. Rowena’s feet, shod in thin leather sandals, made no sound on the polished marble mosaic as she glided, ghostlike, beside Tobias. Now the air was thick and perfumed with musk and sandalwood and she could hear the tinkling of gently flowing water and voices hushed in conversation and laughter.

  In the melancholy light of the candles a tall dark-skinned woman with the proud refined features of an Egyptian queen stepped from the shadows. She eyed Rowena with some curiosity and more than a little speculation, for she really did look like a pretty youth, and then she smiled.

  ‘Welcome. You are expected. My name is Imelda.’ Raising her arms, the long sleeves of her sleek, tubular wisp of a gown that could barely be given the name slipped down to reveal broad golden armlets. She handed Rowena a double-handed goblet. Rowena looked at Tobias. His eyes, a dark shade of blue in the subdued light, were watching her.

  ‘Drink it. It will relax you.’

  She obediently sipped the dark, herb-scented wine, before handing the goblet to Tobias to drink.

  ‘Remember when you stayed with Ahmed and how you enthused over his bathing chamber?’

  She nodded, something warm beginning to unfold within her, whether from the wine or the memory of that pleasurable experience she had no way of knowing, but she had no objections to experiencing it once more.

  The woman conducted them to a large marble chamber that was a bath house. Deep in shadow, it glowed with a warm orange light from the lamps. In the centre was a tiled area with a sunken bath in which water was steaming. There was a brazier close by, towels to hand, along with flagons of oils and soaps—all a person could want for a luxurious wallow.

  ‘Here we will have complete privacy,’ Tobias told Rowena.

  The warm, moist atmosphere was already beginning to get to her and she longed to pull at the cloying fabric that stuck to her damp skin. She went and stood at the shining blue-tiled rim, looking down at the water. Tobias came to stand beside her.

  ‘This place was made for love, Rowena. I didn’t bring you here to hurt you.’

  The woman moved silently to the door and flashed a dazzling white smile. ‘I will leave you to your enjoyment. If you should need anything at all, please ring the bell.’ Indicating the small object on a table, she left without a sound.

  Alone with Tobias, Rowena was sudd
enly uneasy about the attention he was to give her. The pressure of his touch on her shoulder was light, but to her it felt like a steel trap. She began to seriously doubt her wisdom in coming here with him, but she owed him and she must see it through. Tomorrow it would be over, but she knew that nothing would be the same again. She would not be the same.

  ‘It is hardly the place for a tryst I would have chosen, Rowena, but it’s the best I could manage. It cost me nothing, only my service to Captain Ryan for helping to bring about Mason’s demise.’

  Rowena looked at him in alarm. ‘He knows? You told him?’

  He laughed lightly, his fingers lightly stroking the curve of her cheek. ‘I merely told him I would like a night to myself on terra firma and would appreciate somewhere respectable to stay. Knowing of your fondness for cleanliness, I suggested a house with a bathing chamber would not go amiss. He was most happy to oblige.’

  ‘Who does this house belong to?’

  ‘Lord Charles Foley, who is attached to the garrison. Lord Foley and his wife are in England just now, so be assured we will not be disturbed,’ he murmured, turning her to face him.

  Rowena felt devoured by those burning eyes delving into her own. His voice was low and husky in her ears, and she had to reach deeply into her reservoir of will to dispel the slow numbing of her senses.

  ‘Are you sure? There are servants in the house.’

  ‘We are quite alone. You have my word on it.’ Seeing a fleeting frown of bemusement cross her face, he said, ‘Rowena, you are not afraid of being here alone with me?’

  ‘Afraid? Have I need to be afraid, Tobias?’

  ‘You need have no fear of me—but are you ready for what is about to happen between us?’

  She looked at him steadily, at the half-curved lips with the low, intimate glow of the lamps moulding the handsome sculpture of his face with mysterious shadow. ‘Yes. I—I wouldn’t be here otherwise.’

  Drawing her into his arms, Tobias slowly lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her gently. Her lips were moist and sweet against his. Rowena closed her eyes and slipped her arms around his neck.