Aurora looked to the docks and saw slave women in dirty madras tignons carrying baskets of green breadfruit to market. Curious, the women paused as the ship made port, resting their heavy mangrove baskets on their hips. Shopkeepers in white coats and white aprons lounged in their doorways, viewing with interest New Providence's latest arrival. When the ship finally made harbor, the exotic atmosphere surrounded her, the smells mingling ripe and sweet like mangos rotting in the sun. Fiddling with a windblown lock of hair, Aurora could hardly hold back her excitement—or her trepidation—for at last they had reached land. At last she was going to have a chance of escape.
Nervously she glanced around for Flossie. Vashon had adamantly refused them the chance to visit, so Aurora hadn't seen the widow in the entire three days it took to reach port. She had thought of a plan, all right, but it was vexing that she'd been unable to share it. Now she would just have to go through with it, hoping against hope that Flossie would see what she was doing and try to help her.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vashon standing on the fo'c'sle. Their gazes met and distrust clashed with defiance. Unwilling to taunt him further, she quickly averted her gaze, turning it instead to the crowded docks.
She didn't want him to guess that she was plotting her escape. Yet she ached with the need to be free of his clutches. She closed her eyes and thought of the past three nights spent in his cabin while he casually stripped for bed. One more night of that shocking torture and she would go mad.
"Aurora!"
She spun around and saw Flossie rushing up to her. The captain, who usually accompanied the widow on her sojourns abovedecks, was, oddly, nowhere to be found.
Here was her chance to tell of her plan. She just hoped there would be enough time.
Aurora calmly joined the widow, doing her best not to look anxious and stir the curiosity of the green-eyed man who still stared down at her from the fo'c'sle. When she grasped the widow's hands she began speaking, disregarding for the moment her good manners.
"Flossie, I have a plan," she whispered furiously. "You must help. I shall—" The captain suddenly appeared from the companionway. When he saw them together, he walked up. A hopeless, frustrated dread blossomed in her chest, and Aurora fell silent.
Flossie turned around and shot the captain a scathing look. If she'd still had her parasol, Aurora was sure she'd have popped it open with an angry snap. Instead, disgruntled, she could only saunter away, the concern in her eyes the only thing to betray her.
Aurora turned back to the railing, a black depression descending. She would have to go through with her plan and just hope Flossie figured it out. If it worked, they would be liberated. If it didn't . . . Her worried gaze swept the fo'c'sle and the dark thunderous man who stood there. She took a deep breath and gathered the shreds of her courage. If it didn't, they would just have to pay the consequences. But if she tried nothing, they would sail to Mirage, perhaps never to be heard from again.
The crowd on the docks thickened, and for the first time Aurora noticed the stunned looks on the faces of the bystanders as they stared up at the Seabravery. Slaves began gathering in groups, staring up at the dragon figurehead in awe as if the ship were almost legendary. It was most perplexing, especially when a troop of mounted infantry suddenly appeared rushing to the wharf only to surround the ship's gangplank.
The captain joined her at the railing to view the proceedings. He shook his head and grumbled, "We're in for it now."
"I take it the Seabravery's not welcome here," she said, all the while wondering how this was going to affect her plans.
The captain uttered a black little laugh. "Not welcome! About as welcome as Napoleon at Austerlitz."
Aurora looked once more at the infantry. They were dressed in silver coats with glittering gold braid draped on their right shoulders. It wasn't Britain's uniform, and she wondered if this little island, as English as it seemed, had broken off from the Commonwealth.
"What do they want?" she asked.
"Vashon," he answered simply, watching the Captain of the Guard edge his horse forward.
Aurora looked at Isaac in surprise, but before she could say another word, a cheer broke out from the docks. Groups of slaves had raised their fists and begun chanting the name "Vashon" while their overseers scowled in the direction of the Seabravery. She followed the white men's hateful glares up to the fo'c'sle. There Vashon was smiling his approval, until the overseers' whips were raised and the rebellion was put to a swift and vicious end.
"What has he done to merit . . . all of this attention?" she asked, turning once more toward the horse guards. She was at once stunned and dismayed. Vashon was obviously these slaves' hero, while the mounted infantry looked ready to board the ship and hang him. She couldn't understand it.
"The governor of this island has no love for Vashon," Isaac replied. "He stole a shipload of the island's slaves that were being exported to New Orleans. The governor never got his payment; the cargo was worth over two hundred thousand pounds."
"So that's how Vashon made his fortune. Peddling the black man's flesh." Disgusted, she looked away. John Phipps certainly had his flaws, but like a good Evangelical, he'd at least been a supporter of William Wilber-force's movement to abolish slavery.
She scowled. Why would it ever occur to her to compare Vashon to John Phipps? John was a saint compared to Vashon. Yet for some inexplicable reason she was disappointed that Vashon had proven to be such a blackguard.
"Vashon is the last person who would dabble in slavery," the captain said in a quiet tone. "If you ever get to know more about him, you'll see that."
She stared at Isaac. "But what did he do with the governor's ship?"
Isaac smiled. "Well, I do admit he made a tidy profit selling the vessel. I'm not saying the man is perfect. But as for the slaves, Vashon took them to La Tortue where he let every one of them go. That's why they cheered for him on this dock today. Some of those men had children on that ship. I think it heartens them to know that their sons and daughters live in freedom in Haiti, even if they still live in bondage on Grand Talimen."
Aurora turned her gaze once again to the fo'c'sle. Vashon stood overlooking the guards, his arms folded defiantly over his chest. He'd done a noble thing in giving those slaves their freedom. But because of that some men would think him a hero, and others, a villain.
He had yet to prove which he would be to her.
"Miss. Captain." The first mate, a young Frenchman named Philippe, bowed stiffly before them. "Governor Ignatio Roberto Aquila Lopez has sent a message, Captain."
"What is it?" Isaac removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"He informs us that Vashon will be shot on sight if he should leave the ship."
"I see. What else?"
"He says he should like to bargain for him."
Isaac chuckled. "Of course."
"He asks you to meet him at the governor's mansion tonight for dinner. He will discuss with you then any provisions the Seabravery might need for its passengers."
"Thank you." Isaac nodded and the young Frenchman disappeared into the deckhouse.
Aurora tried to appear undisturbed by the first mate's news, but again Vashon's violent world was inescapably overlapping her own.
"Is it true, what he said about . . . shooting Vashon?" she asked.
"They won't get him."
"But—but that governor could certainly have his guards board the ship and—"
"And start a rebellion the likes of which even Tous-saint-Louverture couldn't have inflamed. No, he won't do that. The governor isn't that stupid."
Feeling ridiculously relieved, Aurora suddenly had a thought. "So really the only consequence of all this is that Vashon cannot leave the ship."
"That's right." The captain studied her for a moment, and Aurora grew nervous wondering if she'd been too blatant in her question. But then the captain looked past her to the fo'c'sle. He waved.
"Vashon!"
he shouted. "I've been invited to dinner! I'll be getting a better reception than you, I daresay! And a better meal too! Yours would consist only of manchineel apples!"
Vashon smiled wryly. He called back, "I don't want you to have too good a time, Isaac. You might turn me in after all."
"We'll see about that, Vashon! I'll see what Ignatio has to offer!"
"Then perhaps I should send a watchdog along with you. Flossie!" Vashon shouted across the decks, "I want you to go to dinner with Isaac and make sure he doesn't turn me in."
Flossie stood at the far side of the railing. When she heard Vashon, she merely gave him and Isaac a scathing look, then dismissed them both with a loud "Indeed!"
Vashon laughed and called to the captain, "That settles it! She's all yours, Isaac!"
Both Flossie and Isaac opened their mouths to protest. But as if neither one of them wanted to show how much the situation bothered them, they suddenly closed them. Flossie walked away, uttering another "Indeed!"
Aurora watched the display, a reluctant amusement in her eyes. She knew how taken Flossie had been with the captain until their kidnapping. It was ironic, now, to see her loathing for the man. If they went to the governor's mansion together, the sparks would fly.
But if her plan went as she hoped, Flossie would be spending the night in New Providence a free woman, not the captive guest of Captain Corbeil.
She took a deep breath and gathered herself. If Vashon couldn't leave the ship, then everything would be simpler. When she was off the ship, she and Flossie would only have another seaman to deal with. Much easier, she decided, than dealing with Vashon's iron-fisted reign.
She stole a glance at the captain. He was busy discussing something with Philippe. She turned back and saw Flossie at the prow, longingly watching the docks. Now was the time. Everyone was here. She just had to summon the courage and go forth.
She took a step from the railing and stumbled. In a rather dramatic gesture, her hand went to her brow and she took a moment to steady herself. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the captain looking her way. Pleased, she then made a great display of pulling herself together, but before she could take another two steps, she collapsed, hitting the deck with a horrifying thud.
She had meant to fall like Madame Recamier onto her scroll-end daybed. Instead she'd tumbled as gracelessly as a mare going down in her stall. Silently groaning, she knew tomorrow she would have the bruises to show for it.
"Good gracious!" she heard Flossie exclaim. "Aurora, love! Aurora! Are you all right!"
She heard a scuffle of feet and soon felt a touch on her brow. She knew it was a man's hand for it was rough and callused, yet warm and gentle. She hoped it was the captain's, but when she peeked through her long lashes she saw Vashon staring down at her, his expression a perfect blend of suspicion and concern.
Flossie suddenly appeared at her side. "Aurora! Can you speak, dear? Are you all right? Whatever happened?"
Aurora closed her eyes and moaned. She turned on her side so that only Flossie could see her. Opening her eyes wide, she implored Flossie to go along. A look of shock crossed the widow's face, but just as quickly it was replaced with an expression of understanding.
"She needs a doctor, Captain!" Flossie straightened, and Aurora prayed her thanks. "And what do you plan to do about this? I demand an answer this very second!"
"We'll take care of her. She'll be all right." Isaac looked at Vashon.
Slowly Vashon gathered her up in his arms. He frowned and looked down at Aurora's slack, delicate features.
"She needs a doctor. She must see a physician," Flossie insisted.
"We can take care of her on the ship," Vashon stated. "No, she must be taken care of properly. This is serious, I know it."
"How do you know it?"
Flossie paused. Even with her eyes closed, Aurora could picture her groping for an answer.
"It's—it's a female malady, sir! One I've seen before!" Aurora almost smiled.
Vashon's arms tightened. "What kind of female malady? I've only seen women behave this way when they're with child."
A dead silence followed.
Flossie appeared as if she were being forced to confront something she dreaded. "Well, is she?" she asked quietly.
Vashon looked at the captain. Isaac's face echoed the same question. Well, is she!
Aurora felt Vashon's body tensing in anger.
"She isn't," he answered tightly. "And if she is, I'm certainly not the bastard's father."
Aurora could hardly keep the blush from staining her cheeks. She'd never heard such conversation before, and to pretend to be in a dead faint while being the subject of it was almost unbearable.
In a much relieved voice, Flossie began to prattle, "Nonetheless, it's all your fault, Vashon. You've served her something on this vile ship that's gone bad and now she's ill. If you hadn't kidnapped her, she'd be just fine, but now the girl might die. Aurora must see a doctor, and I shall accompany her. I'll get my reticule. We'll be off immediately."
Aurora squelched the urge to laugh. Flossie was marvelous.
"I'll take them, Vashon," the captain interjected. "I'll take them to Sovens's place."
"You can't take her. Absolutely not." Vashon shook his head. "If you don't show up at the governor's mansion, we'll have Ignatio's entire army down here by nightfall. I'll take her. Send a sailor to Neville's. Tell him we need some men to take out these guards for a while."
Aurora jerked in dismay, then tried to hide it with a moan. What was Vashon saying? He couldn't take her to a doctor. He would be risking his life, and he did that only for foolhardy causes, most certainly not for sickly women. Especially those who, she was sure, he doubted were ill anyway.
"Vashon, you can't do this." Isaac's voice was thick with worry. "It's one thing to taunt Ignatio from the safety of the ship when you have a hundred seamen and the Maritime Code to protect you. But it's another altogether on his island. You can't take an army with you."
"I'll be back before you and the widow come down from Governor's Hill." He lifted Aurora in his arms. "Now send Philippe. I'll leave at dark."
Aurora was laid upon Vashon's bed and Flossie tended her brow with a cool, damp cloth. Every now and again she would open her eyes and shoot Flossie a reassuring look, but the widow's hand still trembled whenever she held the cloth to Aurora's head.
They would be fine, Aurora told herself. She would escape Vashon once they got onto Grand Talimen, and she would bring help to Flossie at the governor's mansion. They would be free that night.
Minutes passed, long torturous minutes while Aurora feigned unconsciousness. The captain came to retrieve Flossie, and Aurora heard Flossie plead to stay by her side. But to no avail. Vashon was adamant that the widow would not go with them, so Flossie was forced to leave with Isaac for the governor's mansion.
It seemed barely a moment passed before Vashon had a pistol shoved into the back of his trousers and was scooping her into his arms. She fluttered open her eyes once they were on the wharves and saw that night was beginning to fall. Torches burned in a colonnade along the docks. The guards in their silver-and-gold livery still stood sentinel on their mounts right at the foot of the Seabravery's gangway, but she had to look twice at the guards. Before, in the daylight, the men had been as white as the Irish; now as they pulled aside their restless steeds to let them pass, they were as black as polished ebony.
"Neville," Vashon greeted the new Captain of the Guard, "I'm forever indebted to you. You came quickly."
The man named Neville answered in a soft island patois. "De guvnor no friend of mine, Vashon." He smiled a toothy, beautiful smile. "But neither are de guvnor's guards. I think dey take a bump on de head too personal."
"After we're gone, drop the guise and go back to your plantations. Don't stay for our return. It's too dangerous."
"We stay if you need us."
"No." Vashon shook his head. "I insist. I'll swim back to t
he Seabravery if I must."
"But what about de pretty lady?"
Aurora quickly shut her eyes and fervently hoped the night shadows had kept them hidden.
Vashon looked down at her, his expression hardening. "If she's truly ill, we may be in port for a while. If she's not, then I think she'll be swimming to the ship whether I go along or not."
All the men laughed, but there wasn't much time for levity. A horse was brought around and Vashon mounted, keeping Aurora well within his warm grasp.
Before they could depart, Neville seemed anxious to say something. Vashon pulled the horse around and faced him.
Neville finally spoke. "You know, friend, we be heroes tomorrow. Not too many on dis island get to help you."
Vashon looked at the black man. He seemed at a loss for words. "Neville," he began, "you know there's always room for you on the Seabravery. For you and your men. Damnation, if my ship were big enough, I'd take every last bastard on this island to La Tortue. But this time, say you'll join us. Get aboard. Philippe knows to expect you."
"Cannot, good friend. There's work on dis island. Someday dis island gonna be free."
Vashon sighed. He looked hard at Neville and closed his arm around Aurora. Reluctantly he nodded. There was nothing more to say. He urged his mount away, galloping quickly into the night.
In a few minutes they arrived at a neat little planter's cottage. A light burned through the white louvered wall of the loggia and Vashon quickly dismounted, carrying her gently toward the house.
Till Dawn Tames the Night Page 18