by Jana Petken
“No, sir, I’ve not forgotten that,” Jacob said with humour. “But until Isaac has a look at them, makes sure they’re all right, and most importantly, finds out where they came from in the first place, they stay and they rest.”
“And then what? You think these whores have nice, comfortable houses to go back to?”
“I think they might, and that’s what I intend to find out. Don’t worry, old man. We’re not going to take them across the Atlantic with us, okay?”
Jack scoffed at Jacob again. “And if they don’t have families? They’re prostitutes, for God’s sake. Don’t think for a minute you’re saving Southern belles here. Both of them will probably leave this ship and search out the nearest whorehouse outside the docks. It’s all they know.”
Jacob grew serious now and shot an angry look Jack’s way. He was not convinced that the two young women, one no more than a girl, had been at Madame du Pont’s of their own volition. There was something in the green-eyed woman’s expression that had made him want to save her from the minute he’d laid eyes on her. Was she a prostitute, as Jack thought? Was the other young girl a whore too? He poured some more coffee and slammed the pot down on the table.
“Jack, don’t judge them just yet. You know as well as I do that Madame du Pont’s whores are different from any others we’ve seen on our travels. You know about the rumours. I’ll admit that I’ve never actually heard talk personally, but you read the secrecy clause on your membership, just as I did. If du Pont was running a legal business with legitimate whores, why the need for all the secrecy? You didn’t see what I saw last night, but all the women, without exception, were fighting to get out of that house, and when I found them in the salon, they had a gun and a damn cleaver pointed at them. I have a gut feeling that we’ve been paying blood money. If we have, we better pray to God that we’ve not been harming innocent women all these years.”
“Well, I assure you, I’ve never taken a virgin to bed in that house,” Jack retorted. “I admit that what you’re saying might hold some truth. But if, and I say if, they were held captive or whatever else you’re imagining, why did none of them ever speak up? The one I bedded last night smiled all the way through me fucking her, and she knew exactly what she was doing. If she didn’t want to be there, why didn’t she tell me or just leave? That’s all I’m saying, son.”
Jacob was picturing the green-eyed woman again. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Maybe he just didn’t want to believe she was a whore and had lain with God knew how many men. “You might be right. I might be imagining something that wasn’t there. But that woman … Jack, I can’t think about anything else. The look on her face last night … Nope, I can’t be wrong. She was scared, like she was looking for a way out. When I carried her downstairs, she was fighting all the way, screaming at me to let her go. Does that sound like a prostitute to you?”
Jack softened. “Look, there’s a difference between what you want to be true and what is true. So she got to you – got under your skin. She’s not the first, and she won’t be the last.”
“No. It was more than that, damn it! I felt her fear. I saw it in her eyes!”
“Well, I guess we’ll know more when the doc speaks to them.”
Jacob nodded. “Yeah, but until then, old man, we’ve got work to do. I want to be finished in time to meet Hendry and Belle when the Carrabelle comes alongside.”
Jacob walked with stooped shoulders along the narrow passageway towards Isaac’s cabin. His smile had gone, as was the need to display the good-humoured banter he’d set in place to pacify Jack and to hide his annoyance at being told what to do on board his own ship. Jack was very dear to him. He would never disrespect him. But he was going to have to give him some bad news, and it would probably break the old man’s heart.
Jacob’s decision to give Jack a comfortable retirement was purely business, but it hadn’t been an easy decision to make. He’d noticed Jack’s mistakes and bad judgment on this voyage. He wasn’t as agile or mentally efficient as a sea captain should be. The thought of having to tell him that James was going to take over after they got home was like being surrounded by a dark looming cloud of guilt. It would inevitably force him to give Jack the news before they docked in Norfolk.
With every step, Jacob’s worried frown grew. It was the same expression often planted on his face at home when something or someone was bothering him, only this time he was being bothered by his own thoughts. Jack was right. He could do without women on board his ship, yet he couldn’t help but look forward to meeting the green-eyed beauty again. He wanted to know her name, where she’d come from originally. He didn’t want to find a gutter-mouthed whore. He wanted to hear a soft, innocent voice, watch her perfect lips move as she spoke. He wanted to be near her, even though she would disappear from his sight after today. He had thought about her all night as he tossed and turned in an empty guest cabin. He was still perplexed as to why she had such an effect on him and why, when he’d seen her covered in blood, his heart had been shattered into shards. He didn’t know what the hell was going on with his feelings, which were usually steady and very often indifferent to female charms. He wanted her gone, off his ship, but not as much as he wanted to see her, and he’d be damned if he didn’t give himself that luxury.
Isaac opened his cabin door. Jacob watched him yawn and then grumble like an old man. He said, “Did I wake you?”
Isaac raised an eyebrow and scowled. “What do you think? I was up half the night with those two women you invited on board. I gave them some laudanum and went back a while later, and they were sleeping like babies. I washed them and patched them up. They didn’t stir, thank God. I figured they wouldn’t be too pleased about being undressed and messed with by yet another man.”
“How were they when you left them?” Jacob asked.
“The older one has a concussion. I put a couple of stitches on her forehead, cleaned a particularly nasty burn on her hand and treated it. As for the youngster, she was breathing easier by the time I left the cabin. They should have had a good night’s sleep and will be fit enough to answer our questions. I’ll tell you, Jacob, you were right about the elder of the two. She’s a rare beauty – never seen a woman to match her. Once I cleaned her face, she took on a whole different appearance … Anyway, enough of that. Come in. Tell me what you want me to do,” he said.
Jacob felt relief run through him as he listened to Isaac’s good news. Both women were as well as could be expected and with no permanent damage. That’s what he’d wanted to hear. “I want you to find out how they are. Examine them; ask them where they come from and if they want to go home. Ask them why they were in that damn house, especially the younger one. Find out everything you can about them. It just doesn’t add up. There’s something not right about all this.”
Isaac looked pensive, and then anger spread across his face. “I have to agree. I wanted to be sure before I said anything … but … I think the younger girl was raped. I believe she might have been a virgin before last night. When I bathed her, she was bruised, badly, and there were bloodstains between her legs. I’ve got no facts, but speaking as a doctor, I have to conclude that she was taken by force.”
Jacob’s face hid nothing. In it was a mixture of anger, sadness, and guilt. “Dear Lord, what have we been doing to these women? I’ve bedded countless over the years – what if they were—”
“Hold it right there, Jacob. Don’t come to any conclusions just yet. I’ll go see them and report back to you, and then we’ll take it from there. Oh, I sent someone out to buy what a woman needs to dress herself,” Isaac added as an afterthought. “It’s probably one of the strangest orders I’ve ever had to give, but he’s back, so I’ll get them to dress. I reckoned they wouldn’t want to be seen without clothes on.”
Jacob nodded, but his mind was racing and his heart was heavy. “I hope to God we’re wrong, Isaac. Taking a whore to bed is one thing, but raping a terrified girl is a different matter altogether.”
From the highest vantage point on the top deck, Jacob watched the last of the ship’s cargo being unloaded. He signed the many customs documents and finally concluded his business on the Christina. All hands were on deck, cleaning, scrubbing, and making sure that every part of the ship from bow to hull was in pristine condition for the Carrabelle crew’s embarkation.
Jacob watched the cotton crop from Stone Plantation disappear around a street corner on a cart. He sighed with relief but also with a sense of pride. He was watching his year’s work reaching its final destination, and that in turn brought thoughts of home and what he’d have to face when he got there.
The overseers would be busy right now, getting the fields ready for new seeds. His slaves, under the watchful eyes of his foremen, would be ploughing and digging, but by the time he got home, work in the cotton and tobacco fields would have stopped completely. Cotton seeds would not go into the ground until the end of March. The tobacco plants would be scattered into the soil shortly after that, when spring rainfalls began. The accumulation of perfectly timed agricultural procedures was why he was able to leave the plantation, for this was the quietest time of the year.
Jacob’s eyes casually scanned the dockyard and vessels alongside. Its latest arrival was making final docking manoeuvres. Jacob recognised the iron sailing steam ship instantly, and his heart filled with pleasure. There was no mistaking the Carrabelle, with her four funnels and tall masts. Her beautiful lines, speed, and size made her one of the finest ships afloat. She had cost them dearly, but she was worth every cent. Jacob had never set foot on her decks. Hendry had taken her on her maiden voyage just thirteen months ago, and according to his letters, she had surpassed his wildest dreams. She was 550 feet in length, dwarfing the Christina. She had a speed of up to thirteen knots, four steam engines for the paddles, and an extra one for the propeller. Her total power was estimated at seven thousand horsepower, and she had almost double the amount of crew members, as the Christina.
The rapid growth in their business had taken Jacob and Hendry by surprise. The Carrabelle was trading throughout Europe. It was doing so well, Hendry had informed Jacob by letter, that plans were underway to expand routes into Asia. Yet in the midst of their optimism was a nagging voice, reminding them that the outcome of the upcoming elections on the sixth of November might not only halt their growth but also devastate their entire business operation.
There were four candidates for the American presidency. Abraham Lincoln, the Republican for the North, posed a clear danger to the Southern slave states. His campaign for anti-expansion of slavery and slave owners’ rights issues threatened the South’s economy and way of life. Lincoln’s Northern rival, Illinois Democrat Steven A. Douglas, was a moderate on the slavery issue. Douglas hoped popular sovereignty would enable democracy to triumph so he would not have to take a side on the issue of slavery. Jacob did not approve of Douglas. He was a candidate sitting on the fence, shying away from making a defined campaign manifesto.
As he pondered his country’s politics, he wondered whether it might not have been prudent to remain at home to vote. He had dallied with the idea for weeks.
Constitutional Union Party candidate John Bell from Tennessee had Virginia’s backing. He had the ear of most of the Southern slave states, but Abraham Lincoln had a greater following in the industrial North. The fourth major candidate, the incumbent vice president, John Breckinridge, had broad support in the South but, it seemed, none in the North.
In just a few short days, Jacob believed America’s fate would be decided. Her growing standing with the rest of the world would now be tested, such was the looming threat of a dissolution of the United States. An old saying of his father’s came back to haunt him: “Those who stand idle in elections cannot declare protestations at an unfavourable outcome.”
Jacob dismissed America’s political wrangle and turned his thoughts to matters even more pressing. He looked at his watch. He still had time to speak to the two women, make arrangements for them, and get to Hendry and Belle in time for luncheon.
Isaac marched towards Jacob with a thunderous scowl on his face. Jacob had never seen the mild-mannered man look so angry. He put his thoughts aside, walked towards him, and whispered in his ear, “Not here. I’ll hear whatever you have to say in private. No need for the men to listen in.”
In the wardroom, Jacob poured them each a shot of rum. Isaac’s face was red with rage; he looked as though he needed the rum.
“Isaac, out with it. What did the women tell you? Jesus, you look like you want to beat the shit out of someone.”
Isaac drank his shot in one and slammed it on the table. “We were right. God damn it, but if I could find that whoring madam, I’d kill her with my bare hands. These girls were abducted from London – London! The young girl is family to an Earl.
“They were both lifted off the street, different places but by the same two men. I’m betting they were those two bastards we caught last night trying to burn the women in the salon.”
“Dear God,” Jacob said, shocked. “How were they abducted?”
“They were drugged – chloroform, probably – and then tied up, gagged, and carted off to Liverpool along with eight other women. They were kept in a room underneath the stable. They don’t know for how long – it could have been days, weeks – but that’s not the worst of it. It seems that all the women in that place were taken captive at some time or another. Jacob, those two women in your stateroom witnessed murder. They were subjected to torture. Jesus Christ. It begs belief!”
Jacob swore. He poured another rum shot for each of them and pushed his fingers through his hair. His hands were shaking, and he was filled with guilt. He’d think about Madame du Pont later. His priority now was the well-being of the two girls. “How are they doing – physically, mentally?”
Isaac shrugged. “Physically, they’ll both be fine. Mentally – what do you think? The older one has a bad burn on her hand, and her head is still swollen, although it has gone down some since last night. She’s bruised black and blue down one side of her face, and I’m bettin’ someone hit her. She won’t talk – but those green eyes, Jacob … I felt as though I was being pulled into them. She never said a word the whole time I was with them.”
“Nothing? But you asked her where she wanted to go?” Jacob asked.
“I did, but like I said, she didn’t open her mouth. I never heard one word from her. The youngster’s named Julia, and she did the talking for both of them.”
“And the woman … Do you think her head injury is serious?”
“I reckon the stitches I put in last night will have to stay in place for at least a week. She’s not fit enough to walk around the streets of Liverpool on her own; put it that way. She’s got a bad concussion and needs to be monitored. I think she’s still pretty much dazed, but we have to get her to talk so we can find out where to send her back to.”
Jacob watched Isaac pour another shot and noted that he seemed deeply affected by these turn of events and by the green-eyed woman. Jacob asked, “What happened to Julia when she was taken upstairs? Did she tell you anything about that?”
“Not much. She told me that she had not fought the man off, but he hurt her. She said du Pont threatened to kill them if they spoke about themselves or didn’t comply with the customers’ wishes. I swear I’ll kill that woman if I ever see her again.”
“Yes, you already said that. Why the hell did none of them speak up? Ask for refuge? Ask to be taken out of that place?”
“I don’t know. But you and me and every other blind fool who went there are guilty of ignoring them and of not asking the right questions, probably because they never gave us cause to.”
Jacob’s anger was growing, and most of it was directed at himself. “Well, now we know they didn’t say anything because they were being threatened by du Pont. Damn it, Isaac. I knew something was up with the older one. I should have gotten to her sooner. I had a feeling in
my gut that she was scared.”
“You like her, don’t you?”
“That doesn’t matter right now,” Jacob said curtly. “What matters is that those women were held at gunpoint last night and those bastards were going to kill them to keep their mouths shut. I should have hanged the one we caught instead of tying him to a damn tree. Jesus, I’ll never get over this – not unless I find the man that escaped, rip his balls off, and shove them up du Pont’s ass!”
“Jacob, we have to make sure that whore mistress doesn’t get away with this.”
“I’m with you there, but first we have to make it right and get the women back to their families. I’ll go now and try to get the other one to talk. We can get them both on a train to London – and we’ll make sure they’re escorted.”
Jacob’s mind was spinning. He was desperate to find out the woman’s name, but he had to concentrate on practical matters first. He said, “Did Julia give you an address?”
“She did.”
“Okay. Get a telegram to her family and order one of the men to look into trains. And send Jansen to get the local coppers here too. They need to know everything we know about du Pont’s criminal activities – and they damn well better catch her before she makes a run for it. Her man too, the bastard that got away last night.”
“You got it,” Isaac said.
Jacob pondered a moment longer and then added, “We have to make this right.”
Chapter Thirty
Mercy was deep in her own thoughts. She was free. Madame Du Pont could not hurt her anymore. Julia had been promised safe passage home this very day. She had given the doctor her family name and told him where they lived in London, and she was repeatedly told that arrangements would be in hand before the end of the morning. Julia was going home to the loving arms of her family. She, on the other hand, was going to rot in hell.