“You haven’t heard anything from our employers, I suppose?” Captain Hardie asked.
“I’m afraid not. It usually takes longer to receive an answer from England and from a ship’s owner rather than from a family. You must have patience.”
“What must I do now, Mr. O’Rourke?” Lucy asked.
“Pack your trunk. Someone will call for it this afternoon. Put on your oldest clothes and wait here for me. The tide turns about seven o’clock and the ship will go out on the ebb. I’ll come for you around five, which leaves us plenty of time to clear the harbour.”
“But Lucy can’t travel with you alone, O’Rourke,” Captain Hardie protested. “She needs to have another woman with her.”
“That’s not possible, Captain, unless you persuade one of the maids here to accompany her. I doubt they will do so because it’s sometimes an unpleasant trip. We use small boats part of the way which can be tossed about if the wind is strong and the waves large.”
“Will Lucy be in danger?” Mrs. Hardie asked fearfully.
“No more than she was aboard your own ship. The sea is always fickle, but we make this journey many times. Set your mind at rest, though, she has no need of a chaperone. The sailors know she has been ransomed and that they will be handsomely paid for taking her to her destination. From now on, she is valuable to all of us.”
“I’m not happy…” Mrs. Hardie began but O’Rourke interrupted.
“Ma’am, I can’t allow you to go with her. You, too, have a value and you wouldn’t be allowed aboard a ship until we have heard from England, which should be soon I trust. If you are worrying about the proprieties, set your mind at ease. No one will offer her insult, my word on it.”
“Just how much is your word worth, O’Rourke?” Captain Hardie growled.
O’Rourke grinned. “As much as my share of the ransom, Captain. I am, after all, a privateer.” He rose from the table, gave them a small bow and walked out of the tavern.
“Well!” Mrs. Hardie exclaimed, “The cheek of the man!”
“Nevertheless, he must have told us the truth, my dear, although I will make some enquires among the other prisoners, to find out more. This news is most likely circulating in the town already.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Lucy spent it by repacking her possessions and making farewell visits to their acquaintances, who wished her well for her journey. Mrs. Hardie could find nobody to venture with her and she had no money to bribe anyone to do so. Reluctantly she contented herself with a list of detailed instructions to Lucy, who thought most of them impractical, since she had no idea how she would travel. Lucy’s trunk was corded and left in the taproom. She went upstairs to don the garments she had worn on the White Hart and had hoped never to wear again. She made one addition though. She retrieved the string of pearls from its hiding place and put it into a bag with the miniatures of her parents. She waited until Mrs. Hardie left the room before she did so and then she tied the small packet tightly to the inside of her skirt. Captain Hardie’s enquiries as to the identity of the mysterious donor had proved unsuccessful so far. At least I have something valuable to take with me and it was a gift, so why should I leave them behind?
Lucy went down in the taproom well before the appointed hour. Captain Hardie returned soon afterwards. He said that he had tried to find out which ship would take her on the first part of the journey but had not been able to do so.
“Three are making ready for sea,” he told her. “It could be any of them.” He was about to say more when a sailor appeared and handed him a note. “This man has come for your trunk, my dear,” Captain Hardie said. “O’Rourke writes that he will follow shortly. He has received permission to accompany you, since the Constanze is to remain in port for a few days having some leaks patched up.”
Lucy felt her heart lighten. At least she would have someone she knew with her on the voyage. She found it difficult to say goodbye to Mrs. Hardie and the others. She left the tavern in tears with their best wishes ringing in her ears. Captain Hardie insisted on walking her to the ship when O’Rourke came to fetch her. She hugged the captain before she stepped down into the waiting boat.
“Thank you for everything. I’ll write to you.”
“Good luck in Ireland. Have a happy life.” He turned to O’Rourke. “Take care of her.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
In the darkness, the water had a different colour from the land and the ships stood out black against it. Lanterns were alight in several of them, bobbing up and down as the current made them sway. After a few moments, Lucy could not tell which one they were heading for. She glanced back at the town, looming against the sky with candles in many of the windows. From here it looked peaceful and interesting. Lucy shivered, glad to be leaving.
O’Rourke had been strangely taciturn ever since he had arrived at the tavern. They were almost at the ship when he said, “Have a care what you say and what you do when we go aboard. I’m not sure what’s happening.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy asked anxiously.
“Look.” He pointed at their destination. She peered through the gloom and recognised the shape.
“Why it’s the Matou!”
“Yes.”
“You knew she was the one which was going to take me?”
“I found out just before I came to fetch you. I thought you would be going on the Minette but the orders were changed at the last moment.”
“Is it a problem?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.”
“Captain Dupré has always been polite to me.”
“Let’s hope he continues to be. Do nothing to provoke him.”
“You sound worried.”
“I am.”
They had no time for more. The boat came alongside the Matou and hooked on to her chains. A ladder had been let down but even so Lucy found it hard to climb up the side of the swaying vessel. A sailor climbed in front of her, helping her while O’Rourke occasionally boosted her from behind. Lucy cursed her skirts which swirled around her, threatening to trip her up. She made the ascent at last and jumped down onto the deck. Captain Dupré stood there before her, smiling as he welcomed her to his ship. He nodded to O’Rourke and bade him take her to one of the stern cabins which had been prepared for her.
Lucy was becoming used to ship’s accommodations by now and was not surprised to find the same small dark space awaiting her. This time her trunk stood beside the cot, taking up too much room in the cabin.
“Where will you be?” she asked O’Rourke.
“A hammock on the gun deck with the men, I expect. Remember what I said and stay in here as much as you can. We won’t be aboard very long. Once we’re out into the fishing grounds, we’ll be transferred onto a fishing boat.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not sure.”
He left her with a distinct feeling of unease. The ship rolled to the swell of the sea so she lay down until she was called to dinner. She hastily straightened her dress and tied a scarf around her disordered hair. She thought she must look dreadful but noticed the same gleam in Captain Dupré’s eyes when he came forward to greet her. It was a moment or so before she realised that the table was only set for two.
“Your officers and Mr. O’Rourke are not joining us?” she asked, rather alarmed.
“They’re sailing the ship. This part of the bay can be treacherous, so they must work hard while I claim the pleasure of your company, a captain’s privilege.”
The first dishes arrived, bowls of a steaming fish stew which Lucy found too salty for her taste. This was removed with a pastry filled with eggs and cheese. Lucy was eating when Captain Dupré said,
“But you are not wearing my pearls.”
Lucy spluttered and almost choked. “Your pearls? It was you who sent them to me?”
“But of course, I thought you knew that.”
“How could I? There was no note with them.”
“My messenger had or
ders to put them into your hands and to tell you.”
“Well, he didn’t. I found them beside my plate at breakfast There was nothing to say they were from you. Otherwise I would have written, thanked you and returned them. They are far too valuable for me to keep.”
The captain picked up his glass and sipped his wine as he looked at her.
“Why shouldn’t you accept such a gift from me?”
“You are neither a relative nor a close friend of mine, Captain.”
“Not now, perhaps, but maybe in the future.”
He put down his wine and came around the table to stand beside her. Lucy shot to her feet before she realised how close he really was.
“What do you mean?”
He reached out to her and stroked her cheek with his finger.
“I would like to become a relative to you or a friend at least. You’re a beautiful girl, worthy of my little bauble. Pearls for a kiss, how is that for a bargain?”
He moved closer and Lucy put up her hands to fend him off.
“Captain, please!”
“Do you find me offensive?”
“No.” Lucy answered truthfully. He was a handsome man in his own way, only rather old. “But I am on my way to my grandmother in Ireland and she would not like me to kiss you.”
“No need for you to go there or for her to know anything about it,” he murmured, pressing closer.
“The ransom,” Lucy gasped.
“I have paid Captain Rollin the price of your ransom. He’s not one to chase a woman who doesn’t want him. You will find that I am quite different.” His hand was around her, fumbling with the fastenings of her dress. It was laced unfashionably high and for once Lucy was glad. She squirmed in his grasp only to have his lips fasten on hers. Even if she moved her head away from him, she could not escape. It was hard to breathe and then suddenly the pressure eased. He swept her up into his arms and carried her through a doorway, tossing her into the middle of his bunk. She opened her mouth to scream when he said,
“Scream if you like, but no one will come rescue you.”
His hand was on her sleeve and he yanked hard. The material ripped. Her shoulder and part of her breast was bare. Horrified, she screamed the first thing that came into her head,
“O’Rourke!”
Dupré chuckled. “I’ve ordered my men to keep O’Rourke away from this part of the ship. In any case, my dear, he is what we call a man of the world. Why should he interfere?”
A cold shiver ran down her back as her mind searched for a way of escape. Dupré sat down, one hand holding her pinned to the bed while the other traced the outline of her breast. His fingers slid beneath the fabric until he found the nipple.
“Enjoy it,” he said as he squeezed. “I won’t hurt you. This is only what your husband would do to you on your wedding night and it should be a pleasure for both of us.”
He bent closer, his lips moving across her skin. He was intent on what he was doing and Lucy watched him in horror. She had no idea what he would do next but she knew that, whatever it was she did not want it to happen. Her hands were free and he could not see what she was doing. Very gently she felt around her and touched a shape, a lantern from its smell, unlit and hanging on a hook beside the bunk. Her fingers curled around the loop and lifted it while, with her other hand, she stroked his hair, to conceal her movements. Then she bent and kissed his brow. Obligingly he raised his head to look at her. Immediately she swung the lantern at him as hard as she could. He groaned and his eyes closed for a moment, then they opened again and he started to push himself up away from her, hand raised. Before he could straighten, Lucy hit him again, just below his nose. This time she saw his eyes roll upwards and he slid backwards onto the floor. Terrified, Lucy picked up her skirts and jumped over his body. She flew through the cabin and the saloon, pulling both doors shut behind her. No one was in the corridor to notice her dishevelled state although she did not think about that. Her one wish was to find O’Rourke.
If he won’t help me, I’m lost, she thought, but he will. He promised me that he would. I have only to find him. Where did he say he would be? The gun deck. Where’s that?
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy had never been any further into the ship than the saloon, but she remembered some stairs leading downwards from one of her earlier visits. She found them and tiptoed down. Flickering lanterns ahead of her enabled her to see the outlines of men gathered in a circle. Smoke rose and so did the murmur of voices. She crept towards them, hoping O’Rourke would be there and felt deeply thankful when she recognised his accent. How could she attract his attention without alerting the others? She edged nearer, hiding behind the boxes and bales that littered the deck. Her heart started to thud when someone left the group and strode towards the side of the ship. A creak, a lighter square opened in the darkness and she heard a splashing sound as if water was being poured through the hole. She had no idea what was happening and did not care, as long as the man did not see her. She shrank down and hid her face, thanking Heaven that her black dress had no coloured trimmings. The man was returning to his companions when people shouted and feet stamped above her.
All the men rose and ran past her, O’Rourke at the back of the group. She caught at his coattail and he spun round with an oath. He saw her and immediately he pushed her head down.
“Qu'est-ce que c'est?” someone called back.
“Rien. J’arrive,” he answered and shuffled a few steps forward as if he intended to follow them, then he turned and said to her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had to come, the captain…”
“What did he do to you?”
“He tried to rip off my clothes so I hit him with a lantern and ran. Help me, Patrick, please!”
“Did you kill him?”
“No… perhaps… I didn’t stay to find out.”
“So that’s what all the shouting is about.”
“You said you’d help me…” Lucy heard her voice quivering with fright.
“I must have been mad!” He pulled her to him, holding her tightly. “Don’t fret; I’ll keep my word but if he finds us now, we’ll be lucky to escape with our skins. Wait!” He stood still for a moment then he said, “If we stay on the ship, we’re finished. There’s only one thing to do for now, but it’s dangerous. You’ll need courage to attempt it.”
“I’ve courage,” Lucy stuttered wondering if she really had any at all. “My father was a hero!”
“Let’s hope you’re his true daughter then. Now don’t argue and do as I say, before anyone comes.” He pulled her past a gun carriage and over to the square gun port which the sailor had left open. He picked up a coil of rope and then swung his leg over the sill. All she could see of him was a hand holding onto the rim until he called,
“Now turn on your belly and put your legs through the hole and your toes where I tell you.”
Noises were coming nearer and the fear of being captured made her climb quickly through the hole after him. Her petticoats thrashed and she seemed to be dangling into empty air. Then his hands caught her feet and she felt her toes catch on a ledge. He passed a rope under her arms and tied it around her.
“Hold onto the rope,” O’Rourke hissed. He reached up over her head and jerked the gun port closed.
Lucy glanced below her and closed her eyes in horror. The sea raced along the side of the ship, terrifyingly close.
“Keep quiet and don’t move,” O’Rourke instructed. “They’ll never believe you’re out here, so with luck they won’t put their heads through the port. Once they search and can’t find you, they’ll think you’ve fallen overboard.”
“How long…”
“Shut up, they’re coming.”
Lucy never did find out how long she hung there, suspended by the rope which cut into the soft skin underneath her arms. Whenever she shuffled her toes to take the strain, she slipped. Once, her heart almost stopped as her foot came off the thin rail and she swung
free until O’Rourke hauled her back and held her against him. After that she tried not to move at all even to relieve the pain of the rope. She kept her eyes closed and her body taut. At any other time, she might have pushed him away. Now it seemed to her that the only warm things in her life were his arm around her and his breath on her cheek. Hours later, or so it seemed, he whispered,
“Hold tight now, Alannah, I’m going to let you go. I think they’re gone.”
He straightened and reached up. She heard the creak of wood and then a soft “Good!” His warmth had been removed and her eyes sprang open. He sat astride the gun port and was reaching down to her, grasping her arms and drawing her upwards. Lucy started to help him but then she realised her fingers and toes had gone numb.
“Don’t wriggle or I might drop you!” he hissed.
Inch by inch he hauled her up until her head and shoulders were almost into the hole, then he grabbed a handful of her dress and pulled her over. They both collapsed on the gun deck breathing hard. He gripped her arm and hauled her to her feet.
“We must hide you until I find a boat.” He hurried her over to the other side of the ship where more cargo was stowed. He released a rope and dragged out a bale, making a space behind it.
“Crawl in there, as deep as you can and stay there until I come for you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Lucy did as she was bid. She turned around and sat with her back against a box. A scraping sound and the bale was pushed in front of her, cutting out what little light there was. The space was stuffy, smelling of dampness and salt but Lucy was only too glad to sit still and be able to massage the cramp in her toes and arms. Despite the pain, her eyes gradually closed and it was not long before she slipped into sleep.
As he pushed the bale back into place, O’Rourke was thinking furiously. Lucy could not stay on board the Matou. Dupré was not known as either a patient or a forgiving man. Lucy had wounded both his pride and his head and he would punish her for it. She would be lucky to escape with a thrashing if he did not kill her and himself as well for helping her escape his wrath. She would be safe enough for the present, though, because the gun deck had already been searched. When she was not found, someone would say that she had fallen overboard. It would not be the first time such a thing had happened. Eventually that explanation would be accepted and everything would die down. Perhaps he could let down one of the boats and use it to get both of them ashore. They could sail to the nearest land. He knew people up and down this coast and he had sufficient money to bribe a fisherman to take them out to the rendezvous. According to the original plan, they would have been transferred to a French fishing boat the following morning. Such craft were often disregarded by the authorities and it was easy for them to meet a vessel of a different nationality to trade or transfer goods and information. The main problem was finding one of the ship’s boats. The next was to smuggle Lucy into it. He would only succeed if he managed to explain his absence from the search in a satisfactory manner, so he must pretend he had been looking in another part of the ship.
Regency Belles & Beaux Page 47