Seaswept Abandon

by Jo Goodman

  "I was afraid," he said carefully, "that it would make a difference."

  "It does."

  His chest squeezed again.

  "If anything, I love you more."

  He turned his face to place a kiss in her soft hair. "Thank you for that. God, I love you."

  When he said it like that Rae wondered that she had ever doubted the depth of his feelings. They were quiet for a long while. The ship rolled steadily beneath them, and unknown to either, the pearl gray of dawn was lighting the eastern sky.

  Rae's voice was drowsy. "You've never doubted that your parents married."

  "Never. If Father said he would marry Mother before he came for me, then that is what he did. It was his way."

  "Did you ever think about trying to claim Stanhope?"

  "The idea consumed me when I was ten, but it was gradually beat out of me. I took the name Jericho so I would never completely forget what had been done. But now? No, I don't think about it much. Anyway, I've heard rumors over the years from people who know of Charles Newbrough. He is naught but a wastrel and a gambler. I doubt there is much left of Stanhope to be reclaimed. In truth, that bothers me most. He wanted it so badly, but didn't know how to care for it."

  "Then Stanhope never played a part in the plans you and my family discussed for the Duke of Linfield."

  "Not directly, no. Your father was going to supply me with money and clothes. I was going to supply well-mannered arrogance."

  Rae could not help but smile. "I can believe that."

  "I came by it honestly," he told her, giving her shoulders a light squeeze. "My father, from as early as I can remember, brought me up to believe I was Stanhope's heir. It rather clings."

  "I don't know about that. You gave an awfully good impression of a soft-spoken Georgia boy."

  "Thank you, ma'am. Now why don't you—"

  Jericho had been about to advise Rae to get a little more sleep, but Sam Judge's arrival put an end to that. As the door opened Jericho got to his feet and held out a hand, helping Rae to hers.

  Sam Judge's lantern preceded him into the room, swinging from his outstretched hand. "Well," he said, grinning with satisfaction, "you two don't look any the worse for your travels. Didn't I say, Jud, that they'd be fine down here?"

  "You said it, Sam."

  The yellow light illuminated the bruise on Rae's cheek, and Sam stepped closer to examine it. "Appears Wendell hit you a might harder than was needed."

  Jericho's hand tightened on Rae's waist when he saw her face clearly. His eyes were accusing. "You said you fell."

  Caught in her lie, Rae did not respond. Sam answered for her. "Suppose she thought you might take the room apart if you knew the truth. Isn't that so, ma'am?"

  Rae nodded.

  "See? She was only tryin' to make things easier on you."

  Jericho turned his attention back to Judge, and his ice-blue eyes bore into the shorter man. "You know if she is harmed, her uncle won't give you a sixpence for her."

  Sam stepped back and lowered his lantern, effectively lessening the impact of Jericho's stare. "Suspected as much," he shrugged. "Told the others the very same thing not above an hour ago. That's why we're goin' to give your wife better accommodations and see that she's well taken care of. Now that we're safely out to sea there's no longer a concern that you'll decide to leave us. As for her face, it'll heal by the time we reach London." He looked at Jericho shrewdly. "Whether or not she receives any other discipline is entirely up to you, but I can promise the next bruise won't show unless she lifts her skirts."

  Rae's fingers intertwined with the ones Jericho was inadvertently digging into her side. "Please don't worry," she said. "I'll not do anything amiss."

  Sam Judge chortled. "That's good of you, Miz McClellan. That'll save your husband from gettin' a few stripes on his back."

  Rae looked at Jericho in bewilderment. "I don't understand. "

  "He's saying that if you behave yourself, I won't be flogged, and that if I do what I'm told, you won't be hurt. Is that the way of it, Judge?"

  "That's the way of it," Sam Judge agreed. "Knew you was a bright 'un." He turned to Jud, who was leaning against the door frame. "Didn't I say that he was a bright 'un, Jud?"

  "You said it. Are we going to take them up now?"

  "In a minute. First, a test. Jest to make sure they understand." He jerked his chin in Jericho's direction. "You, McClellan. You're goin' to be working side by side with us on deck. Have you ever been part of crew before?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. Then you know the importance of obeyin' orders, isn't that so?"

  "Yes."

  "If I tell you to ready the mizzenmast sail, you'll do that."

  Jericho nodded.

  "Say: Yes, sir."

  Jericho knew no one on board called Sam Judge sir, but he complied. "Yes, sir."

  Sam grinned at Rae's discomfort. "Your wife is having a bit of trouble with your willingness to comply. You'll have to take her in hand."

  "My wife is doing just fine," Jericho said coldly. "What else would you have me do now that I've called you sir? Shall I kneel before you? Kiss your hand, perhaps? Would you have me howl at the moon or stand on my head? That is what this test is about, is it not? You want me to prove that I'll follow your orders to save my wife from injury."

  Behind Sam, Jud was grinning at the way Jericho had taken the sport from Sam's play. If the man was willing to abandon his pride and do anything, it was hardly any fun to mock him.

  Jericho's words gave Sam a moment's pause also; then he said coolly, "I've a mind to see your wife's teats, McClellan. Unfasten her blouse."

  Rae felt Jericho's refusal in every limb of his body, and she blanched herself at Sam Judge's crudity and cunning, but Jericho had already taught her the importance of taking the sting from their captor's amusement. She removed Jericho's hand from her side and took a small step forward so that he could reach the hooks at her back. Before she lost her nerve she lifted her hair out of Jericho's way and held herself proudly, chin raised and eyes defiantly centered on Sam Judge's startled face.

  "Cows have teats, Mr. Judge," she said calmly. "I have breasts." She could feel Jericho's fingers trembling as he undid the first four hooks. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she lowered her arms and eased the bodice down. Rae's chemise offered scant protection from the eyes that studied her, but she began to lower the straps anyway. The high curves of her breasts shone softly in the lantern light, and the chemise outlined the erect tips of her nipples. Before Jericho could help her lower her undergarment the few inches necessary to completely expose herself, Sam Judge halted her.

  "Cover yerself, woman. You have as little pride as yer man. Never seen the likes of it in all my days. You ever seen it, Jud?"

  Jud, whose eyes were still on Rae's breasts, said that no, he'd never seen the like.

  Jericho quickly helped Rae right her clothes, then picked up her discarded pelisse and drew it about her shoulders. He did not make the mistake of thinking she trembled from the cold, and he held her flush to his body, his chin resting lightly against her silky hair. "Are we quits?" he asked his captors.

  "Aye, we're quits," Judge said. "If your wife wasn't worth a fortune to us, I'd even have a mind to let her go. Her spunk is bound to cause trouble. Only a matter of time."

  "If it is only the money that is your concern, then ransom us to our family. My parents will pay for our safe return."

  "With what?" he scoffed. "Tobacco? Continental notes that aren't worth a diddly? Whatever the McClellans have, the Duke of Linfield has more. That's what his man said, and he had Wendell's pistol at his head to encourage the truth."

  "Then the duke did not hire you?"

  "We ain't for hire, are we, Jud?"

  "No," Jud said. "We go our own way."

  "This time your path leads to Hades," Rae said softly. "My uncle is not a man who deals fairly with people. You will have a difficult time spending your fortune in Newgate."

  "Let
us worry about that," Judge said. "The man we met when we took the Marion said the duke would reward us for seeing you safely to Linfield. Harrity, his name was. Tried to save his simple soul when it was obvions he didn't have any thin' worth takin'. Traded you instead. O' course, he thought we'd let him share in the fortune. But that Wendell, whether it's his fist or a pistol, he don't have light touch. The few brains Harrity had, well, it wasn't pretty, ma'am." He grinned when Rae shivered. "It appears that you and your husband understand the rules a little better than Harrity. As long as either of you don't do anythin' foolish, we'll be obliged to treat you squarely."

  "We understand," Jericho said flatly.

  "I thought that was the way of it. Jud and I will escort your wife to her cabin. It's not much, but it's better than this hole. For her own safety, she won't be allowed on deck. Most of my men I can trust to leave her alone, but it's a long voyage, and there's no sense takin' chances by paradin' her around. After she's settled, someone will take you up. You'll work side by side with the rest of us and you won't be seein' any more of her. Leastways, not until we're docked in London."

  "How will I know that she is all right?"

  "You'll know it because I'll tell you. It's my cabin she'll be sharin'," he added with a sly wink at Jericho. "Would you look at that, Jud. She's fainted. Now don't that beat all?"

  Jericho caught Rae's limp form against him. "There was no need to make it sound as if you intended to rape her," he said tightly.

  "How do you know I won't?"

  "Because..." He paused and glanced at Jud, then back to Sam, a warning in his eyes. "Do you really want me to say?" Jericho had seen the way Judge had looked at Rae when she started to undress, with more loathing than interest. He had seen the same look in his captain's eyes when some waterfront wench had settled herself on his lap and pressed her musky bosom against his chest.

  Judge was distinctly uncomfortable. Clearly his bravado and innuendo were a way of saving face in front of the men he commanded. They had as little idea about his preferences as Rae.

  "Because if you touched her, I would kill you," Jericho said, allowing Judge an out while communicating that he knew the real reason Rae was safe. Jericho knew he had now made a powerful and guarded enemy.

  Sam's chest puffed, but he continued to watch Jericho through narrowed eyes. "Guess that's the chance I'll have to take. Ain't that right, Jud?"

  "Right, Sam. And I always thought you were a lucky devil."

  Sam nodded and he pointed to Rae. "Carry her up to the cabin."

  Rae was coming out of her faint when Jud reached for her. "It's all right," she said. "I can walk."

  Jericho bent his head and whispered in her ear. "He won't harm you. Trust me."

  She nodded, not understanding, but simply believing in Jericho. Rae gave his hand a tender squeeze, more worried that when they left he would be alone in the dark than concerned for anything that awaited her. She looked back once to reassure herself before Sam Judge closed the door on Jericho's beloved face.

  She was led up four narrow flights of steps, more like ladders than stairs, and taken to a small cabin that had even fewer appointments than the room she had shared with Jericho on the schooner. There was an unmade bunk on one wall, a trunk at its base, and a commode. Everything, including the twelve square panes of glass at the cabin's front, was grimy with dust. With a gruff command to make herself comfortable, she was left alone. When the door was locked behind her, Rae sank to the floor and wept.

  * * *

  Rae tallied the days that passed by scoring the head of the bunk with her thumbnail. The ship's relentless rolling beneath her feet was a constant reminder that her fate remained unchanged. Of Jericho she knew next to nothing. Her captor spoke little, except to hurl ugly, hateful taunts at her. Rae ignored him because she knew her apparent unconcern frustrated him.

  Sam Judge left her alone almost immediately upon rising each dawn. He would roll up the hammock he had anchored to the cabin walls and toss it into the trunk. She rarely saw him again until late at night when he pulled it out and strung it up. By then she was well under the covers, dressed in a woolen nightshirt he had thrown in her direction the very first evening. Rae did not fully understand what kept Sam Judge from her bed, but she was grateful for it. She even became used to the gravelly snore that meant he was deeply asleep.

  She cleaned and tidied the cabin daily, as if the routine gave her purpose. Mindful that she must not allow herself to become weakened during her confinement, Rae ate the two meals brought to her each day and paced the cabin for hours on end. Once a week a tub filled with seawater was dragged into her room, and she was permitted to bathe and wash her hair. Mostly she thought she would go mad for want of the fresh air and sunshine that was not filtered through water-stained glass.

  In the main, Rae was brought meals by men who treated her with a modicum of respect. There were those occasional comments about envying their leader his good fortune, and Rae did nothing to disavow them of their notion. If sharing Sam Judge's cabin protected her in some manner from the others, then she was not going to do anything to lift the scales from their eyes.

  She wondered about her family, and once found the temerity to tell Sam Judge that the McClellans were probably in pursuit of his ship. That was when she discovered what had happened to Jericho's cape, and that her family no doubt thought they were drowned. It was not sympathy for her grief that drove Judge from the cabin that evening, but the fact that Rae's hiccuping sobs made it impossible for him to sleep. The following day he told her that if she disturbed him likewise again he'd introduce her husband to the cat. She never cried after that.

  Jericho found it as difficult as Rae to obey Judge's petty dictates, but he never openly expressed his belligerence. He went about his work without speaking, his thoughts filled continuously with Rae and escape. He came to realize that many of the men who held them had been made desperate by the poverty the war had visited upon them. They had become privateers in hopes of recouping their losses and clung to Judge's belief that in Ashley McClellan they had at last found their fortune. Jericho knew they were beyond reason. Those who had never been driven by poverty were motivated by greed. They had stepped outside the law once too often to think it had any power over them.

  In the beginning there were taunts about Jericho's inability to protect his wife from Sam Judge, but he pretended he didn't hear. When the men had a lottery to see who would claim Rahab if Judge tired of her, Jericho cast his own name into the pot and walked away. No one knew quite what to make of that, and the ribald comments ceased within his hearing not long after. Jericho worked tirelessly, could not be drawn into a fight, and eventually commanded the grudging respect of some of the crew for his skill at having bested them at their game. If circumstances had been different, some said, he would have been welcomed aboard as a partner rather than a prisoner. Jericho did not find their speculation amusing, for he always felt himself within a hair's breadth of killing any one of their number. But thinking of Rae, he always refrained.

  So thirty-six days passed, most of them uneventful. It was on the thirty-seventh day, when Jericho looked down from his perch on the mainmast yardarm and saw Rahab being dragged onto the deck, her wrists bound tightly behind her, that he doubted he could control himself any longer.

  Chapter 9

  Rae stumbled as she was forced on deck. The sunlight blinded her, but she could not shield her eyes, and strands of her loose hair were whipped carelessly about her face in the salty breeze. She licked her dry lips and fought down a scream as Wendell grabbed her roughly from behind.

  She struggled uselessly in his iron grasp, looking about wildly for Jericho. In the moment before Wendell jerked her head around she thought she spied Jericho's bright yellow hair high above her. The thought of him on the stick rigging made her feel sick to her stomach. She had always tried not to imagine what sort of work he did for Sam Judge. "Take your hands off me," she said through clenched teeth. "Or I swear I'll do more t
han scratch your face."

  For the first time since she had come topside, the crew looked away from her and took note of Wendell's bloody jaw and neck. Four neat parallel scratches marked his ruddy complexion and disappeared into his neck cloth.

  Sam Judge motioned to two men. "Miller. Davis. Take her. Hank, take Wendell and put him at the mast. Get the cat."

  Judge was quickly obeyed. Rae was pulled away from Wendell, and each of her arms was locked securely in the hold of Miller and Davis. Startled by Judge's command, she watched in confusion as Wendell was bound to the mast, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Jericho descending like lightning toward her.

  Jericho nearly flew down the rigging and then leaped to the deck, landing tightly on his feet and startling the men around him. He broke through the gathering and strode over to where Rae was being held.

  God, it had been too long. It took all his willpower to keep from taking her in his arms. "Have you been harmed?" he asked tersely, his eyes hungrily running over Rae's unnaturally pale face. Her dark eyes seemed too large, almost bruised with violet shadows beneath her lower lashes. Her hair was darker than he remembered, without the flash of fire in it, and it blew about the slender stem of her neck and across her eyes. He wanted to touch the tips of his fingers to her cheek and ask where her freckles had gone. Even winter's cold sunlight was better than none at all, and he knew that of the two of them, he was the more fortunate.

  Rae found herself leaning forward, a posture that clearly spoke of her desire to be held in familiar arms. She was pulled back abruptly. "No," she said, tossing back her head so that her hair fell away from her eyes. "I haven't been harmed. Wendell tried to—to—"

  Judge interrupted her. "Wendell thought your wife was hungry for somethin' besides her mornin' meal," he said bluntly. "'Course, he tells the story a bit differently. I heard her screaming like a banshee and interrupted them. Wendell will be punished for it."

  "Then why are my wife's wrists bound?"