Realizing he should have expected this, Gabriel went deeper into the menagerie. He found Constance Hollings first, surrounded by goats. “Miss Hollings?”
She looked up with a smile. Her head scarf had fallen around her shoulders and one of the goats was quietly munching on it. “Good day, Captain! Thank you for keeping the ship afloat.”
“I had a personal interest in our survival,” he commented. “You may want to separate your head scarf from that little black goat.”
She laughed and tugged the scarf away from the creature. “Thank you, I need this to stay respectable.”
He asked, “Is your companion in mischief down here also?”
“Try the horse enclosure. Or possibly the little donkeys.”
Gabriel did just that and found his lady bright, covered in straw and surrounded by small silver-gray horses. Like Constance, she’d lowered her head scarf. She was leaning back against the wall and seemed to be dozing, so he quietly let himself into the pen. “Lady Aurora?” he said softly.
She opened her eyes and gave him a melting smile. “My captain. I’m happy to see that you’ve survived the storm intact. Though you squish a bit.” She patted the straw next to her. “Join me and rest a moment. I imagine you’ve been working nonstop all day.”
He took her suggestion and sank down in the straw after gently pushing one of the little horses aside. He did indeed squish when he leaned back against the wall in his saturated clothing. “That’s what a captain is supposed to do.”
Remembering the cheese he’d picked up, he pulled the chunk from his pocket and broke it in two. Offering her half, he said, “You must be hungry. The galley fire was shut down when the ship was pitching so violently, but now that we’re steady, the cook is at work again and promises a hot meal.”
“Thank you, I’m ravenous!” Keeping the cheese away from an interested little horse, Rory bit into the chunk. “Let me guess. Fish soup with very, very fresh fish?”
He laughed. “I believe you’re right. I’ve heard of the sky raining fish, but never experienced it before. By the time I left the helm, all the fish had been removed from the deck. They should be simmering soon.”
“I’ve never seen anything like those waterspouts,” she said with a shiver. “I had no idea they could appear in clusters.”
“I counted five today.” He ate a bit of his cheese. “That’s rare, but not unknown. Several centuries back, a famously violent group of waterspouts rose in the harbor of Valletta in Malta. Several ships sank, a lot of people died, and there was a huge amount of damage.”
She shuddered. “How much damage did the Zephyr suffer?”
“Surprisingly little. We lost a sail and a cage of chickens, and there are some broken bones and bruised bodies, but it’s something of a miracle that no lives were lost.”
“We would have lost the imam if not for your quick action.” She looked up at him, her gaze stark. “And could have lost you as well.”
“Close calls don’t count except as dinner conversation.” Since they were fairly private here, he moved his hand over to clasp hers in the straw. His voice quiet, he said, “I keep thinking about what might be done to rescue you and your cousin. As soon as we reach Constantinople, I’ll visit the British embassy. It’s said to be a large one because a number of British visitors come through the city. Since I’m a temporary British consul to Algiers, I’ll talk to the ambassador and see if he has any influence in a situation like yours.”
“Perhaps, though from what I’ve heard about the Ottoman Empire, its leaders are not particularly concerned with the opinions of Western European countries.” She chewed and swallowed the last of her cheese. “The fates of Malek’s family, Constance and me, and the crew of the Devon Lady are all linked together. I don’t know if it’s possible to separate out any of us without freeing everyone. Or failing to free anyone.”
“You may be right,” he said grimly. “But if only some of you can be freed, that’s better than none.”
Her hand tightened on his. “Don’t get yourself killed trying, Gabriel,” she said quietly. “I’d rather be in a harem and know you were alive than have my freedom at the price of your life.”
He gazed down into her mesmerizing blue eyes and marveled at how quickly she’d come to know him. “I have a feeling that the situation when we reach Constantinople will be volatile. Anything might happen, and success will rest on seizing whatever opportunities arise.”
“I’m sure you’re good at that.” She dropped her gaze. “You’re going to be exhausted by the end of the day. Do you think you’d like some company tonight? Late?”
His heart speeded up. “I’d like nothing better, my lady. Just be careful.”
“I will.” Her smile was rueful. “It would be so much wiser to stay locked in my cabin with Constance. But wisdom has never been one of my talents.”
“One of the reasons you’re so irresistible.” He wanted rather desperately to kiss her, but that could lead to discovery and disaster. Instead, he cupped her face with one hand, falling into her gaze. “I need to return to duty. I’ll see you later.”
“So you will.” Her smile was a private promise.
* * *
The fish soup served for dinner that night was excellent. With very, very fresh fish.
Chapter 21
It was near sunset by the time the hippo pen was repaired. Jason didn’t speak the same language as the animal keepers who helped him repair the pen, but they were hard workers. He’d be happy to sit down and have a beer with them any day, except he didn’t think that Muslims were allowed to drink.
They didn’t know what they were missing. Back in his cabin, Jason had a really excellent bottle of brandy that the captain had given him on his last birthday. He saved it for special occasions, and he was pretty sure that surviving the most dangerous storm at sea he’d ever seen qualified as such.
The pen was repaired, and precious fresh water from the ship’s supply was being brought down and poured over the hippos. Adding seawater to get the level high enough to make the hippos happy would be easy since they were surrounded by the stuff.
Leaving the menagerie in the capable hands of the Algerian animal keepers, he walked down to the goat pen. He hadn’t seen Constance pass him on her way up, though admittedly he might have missed that while working. But, happily, she was still there, surrounded by goats and looking quite content.
Smiling, he unlatched the cage and stepped inside. “Do you need help extricating yourself from your little friends?”
She looked up with the sweet smile that went straight to his heart. “That would be very helpful. I’m so stiff from sitting here and hanging on to the cross boards to keep from being tossed around that I’m not sure I can stand!”
Recognizing an invitation, he extended his hand. She clasped it firmly and came lightly to her feet. The goats decided it was time to play and started scampering about their pen.
“I’m afraid one of the goats damaged your scarf,” she said apologetically as she showed him a mangled corner.
“I’m glad he didn’t eat more.” With reluctance, he let go of her hand. “But the scarf is yours, not mine. It was a gift.”
“Thank you.” She stroked the silky folds. “I’ll cherish it always.” The gaze she gave him said wordlessly that it would be a memory of Jason even if she spent the rest of her life as a harem slave.
He opened the door to the aisle, blocking two of the miniature goats who tried to follow her out. When the little creatures were safely locked up again, she paused to adjust the scarf so it covered her head and face.
“I’ll escort you to your cabin, Miss Hollings,” he said politely.
“Thank you, sir. Though I imagine everyone on board is too tired to plot mischief just now,” she said with a weary smile.
“True, but I’m under orders not to risk your safety.”
As they headed toward the companionway, he wished he could take her arm, but the captain had impressed on him the
need not to be seen touching either of the ladies; anything perceived as immodesty might backfire on them.
Though he understood the necessity, he yearned to treat Constance like a cherished woman of his own kind. To offer his arm, to talk easily with her whenever he wanted. To kiss her discreetly and know that if they were caught, the viewer would be indulgent rather than wrathful.
Instead, he stayed a safe yard away as they climbed and then turned into the passage that led to the cabin she shared with Lady Aurora. As they walked in single file because the passage was narrow, she said, “Your cabin is along here also, isn’t it?”
“Yes, though it’s more the size of a travel trunk than a cabin,” he said with a smile. “But at least I have it to myself. There was quite a bit of shuffling when Malek’s men came aboard since his senior officers needed cabins.”
“Your cabin is smaller than ours?” she said, mischief in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have thought that possible. Can I have a brief look?”
He glanced along the passage but there was no one else in sight. “If you like, but you will not be impressed.”
He led her to his door and unlocked it, revealing the room with a flourish. “Behold my castle!” Luckily, he’d left it looking neat because it was too small to allow any amount of clutter.
She peered in. “Goodness, you weren’t joking about the size! Is the storage cabinet above your bunk something that can be removed and another bunk added if necessary?”
“Yes, exactly that. A ship needs flexibility.” He closed and locked the door. “Just like the temporary cabin that was constructed for Malek Reis in the captain’s day room.”
She looked up at him and said very softly, “Have you ever wished for a bit of company at night?”
Startled, he said carefully, “It depends on the company. There are some visitors who would be very welcome.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, enough to prove that she meant what she was saying. “Perhaps some welcome company might call tonight.”
She retraced her steps to her own cabin, but turned and looked at him with solemn hazel eyes before she disappeared from sight.
He took a moment to duck back into his cabin so he could steady his breathing. Was Constance feeling reckless because her future looked so bleak? Whatever the reason, he’d give ten years of his life to have private time with her. To talk. To hold her hand, and maybe even kiss her.
Something, anything, to hold in his memories.
* * *
Maintaining the captain’s log usually took only a few minutes, but the events of a day with burials at sea and waterspouts took longer. As always, Gabriel worked in his day room since his sleeping cabin didn’t have enough space for a proper desk.
He was finishing his entry for the day when a weary-looking Malek came down the steps to the common area they shared. Gabriel wouldn’t have been surprised if the other man had only given him a nod of acknowledgment, but instead Malek came over and sank into the chair opposite the desk.
Gabriel cleaned his pen and set it into its stand. “Is there something you or your men need? The worst of the storm damage has been cleared up, but there’s bound to be more than we’ve taken care of so far.”
Malek made a dismissive gesture. “Nothing important. Your ship and crew did a remarkable job of weathering the storm. What I want to discuss is what happens when we reach Constantinople.”
Gabriel became very still. “How do you intend to negotiate with Gürkan?”
“I’ve been able to come up with nothing but the simplest of plans. Call on him with two or three of my soldiers. Enough for a proper escort but not so many as to seem threatening.
“Then I’ll tell him what gifts I have brought for him in exchange for the release of my family. The large amount of money I’ve brought, though it’s not so large as he would like. The rare and interesting animals for his menagerie. And then I shall grovel.” Malek smiled humorlessly. “He’ll enjoy the groveling because he’ll know how much I loathe doing it.”
“Where do the English ladies come in?” Gabriel asked with an edge to his voice. “Did you include them with the animals for his menagerie?”
Malek shook his head. “I promised you that I would try to spare them. They will be the last of the gifts I will offer.”
“Damnation!” Gabriel swore. “You said if necessary you’d sell them for the highest price possible to raise more money. Much as I hate that idea, it would be preferable to becoming the possessions of a brute like Gürkan!”
“That is what I thought, but I remembered that my cousin likes fair European women, so offering them to him directly might be more persuasive than merely giving him more money. The golden Lady Aurora will appeal greatly.”
When Gabriel swore again, Malek pointed out, “At least they would be able to stay together. I have seen the friendship between them, so sharing the same harem would be some compensation for their continued captivity.”
Gabriel felt rage perilously close to battle fever rising in him, but he forced it down. Killing Malek wouldn’t help, and being killed by Malek’s men would leave his ship without a captain and wouldn’t benefit the ladies at all. “Will giving Gürkan two Englishwomen be enough to achieve your goal?” he said tightly. “Surely he holds you responsible for the death of his brother even though you weren’t the one who killed him. Will anything less than your death appease him?”
“Very likely not,” Malek said calmly. “The last thing I can offer is my life in return for the freedom of my wife and children. That might appease him as nothing else could.”
Malek’s cool acceptance was chilling. “I realize that Muslims are fatalistic, but I’m sure your family would rather have you alive and with them rather than a martyred sacrifice to their freedom.”
Pain flickered in Malek’s dark eyes. “I would prefer that also, but it might not be possible for all of us to return safely to Algiers.”
Which was true, but Gabriel preferred optimism to fatalism. “Is my death one of the items you’re prepared to offer Gürkan? After all, I’m the one who actually killed his brother.”
“He doesn’t know that. I need you to be ready to take my wife and children home to Algiers before Gürkan can change his mind about releasing them.”
Gabriel sighed. “I presume that you know your cousin is a lying, vicious snake who might take everything you have to offer, including your life, and still not release your family.”
“I’m very aware of that, but what other choices do I have? Gürkan has Damla and the children in his harem, which is in a grand and heavily fortified palace in the oldest part of the city. The only way my family will be free is if Gürkan releases them voluntarily.” Malek shrugged and got to his feet. “I will do what I must do, and I must trust that you will do your part.”
“Even if part of the cost is the freedom of Lady Aurora and Lady Constance?”
“Even then,” Malek said in a steely voice. “I captured them before you appeared on the scene. They are the currency for buying my family’s freedom. Will you take Damla and the children back to Algiers even if your English ladies must spend the rest of their lives in Constantinople?”
At least Malek wasn’t enjoying the suffering he was causing, as Gürkan would do. Gabriel admitted to himself that if Rory was his wife and she and their children were held captive, he would do anything to free them.
He hated situations where there was no good solution. Stiffly he said, “I’ll convey them home safely if it is within my power. But in return, I will hold you to your part of the bargain we made in Algiers. If it is possible to leave Constantinople with your family, you will free the crew of the Devon Lady.” Rory would be glad for that even if she was enslaved herself.
“I will. I left instructions with my steward in Algiers.” Malek smiled faintly. “If I’m dead, I’m perfectly willing for them to be freed.”
Gabriel got to his feet. “For what it’s worth, I intend to call on the British ambassador to see if anything
can be done to free the British subjects you’ve enslaved.”
“Call on the British ambassador if you wish. But it will do you no good. European ambassadors have little influence with the Sublime Porte.” Malek turned and disappeared into his sleeping cabin, walking as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
It was a wrenching end to a deeply tiring day. Gabriel dowsed the lamp he used when writing in the captain’s log and took another smaller lamp to light his way into his bedroom. Would Rory come? This late, it seemed almost too much to hope for.
But when he entered his room she was there, curled up against the headboard of his bed and reading a book, her gilded hair spilling over the shoulders of her dark robe. He closed and latched the door behind him, unable to take his eyes from her. Rory lit up his life as nothing and no one ever had.
“You look exhausted,” she said softly as she uncoiled herself from the bed and walked into his arms.
He embraced her as if he were drowning and she was his lifeline. She was so warm, so present, so real, that it was hard to imagine she might be wrenched away from him. But it was equally hard to imagine how he could stop a troop of armed men from carrying her and her cousin away to a place where they might never again see anyone from their own country.
“Malek has been telling me his plans, such as they are,” he said in a hoarse voice. “He’s prepared to offer everything he has, including his life and your freedom, to get his family out of Gürkan’s clutches. And I don’t think there is any way I can prevent it.”
“There might not be any way,” she said in a voice that had only the slightest of tremors. “Not when Malek has the power and we are foreigners in a strange land. I know you will do your best. That is all anyone can ever do.”
She raised her face in invitation, and he kissed her with all his churning emotions. His lady bright, a swift shooting star who would soon spin out of his grasp forever.
Once a Scoundrel (Rogues Redeemed #3) Page 16