Brittany gasped when she saw what looked like an avenging angel, his pistol trained on the Turk he had in a viselike grip. Cappy smiled at his captain and Brittany.
“It’s like this, sir; when you didn’t come back, we decided you was in trouble, so me and several of the men thought we’d come and give you a hand.”
“Cappy, you old sea dog!” Thorn exclaimed, pulling Brittany forward. “I never thought I’d see the day I would be glad to see that face of yours.”
Three other men from the
Victorious
appeared just behind Cappy, each smiling at the sight of the captain.
“We’d best be off, Captain,” Cappy urged. “The Turks only left a skeleton crew on board, but I’m betting the others will be arriving soon, since it’ll be light within the hour.”
“Yes, let’s be away,” Thorn concurred.
“Excuse me just a moment, Captain,” Cappy said, turning to his prisoner and bringing the butt of his gun down hard on the man’s head. When the man crumpled to the floor, he smiled his lopsided grin. “Shall we go? The boat is waiting.”
Thorn pulled Brittany out into the dimly lit corridor, and they all moved quickly up on deck. They had to step over several prone bodies, but none of them were men from the
Victorious.
Apparently the Turks had once more underestimated them.
Thorn was glad there was no moon so they could make their departure under cloak of darkness.
When they reached the railing, he picked Brittany up in his arms and agilely climbed over the side, dropping with a thud into the swaying boat below. They were soon joined by
the others, and the small craft was propelled forward as the crew swiftly rowed away.
To Brittany, all the events of the evening had happened so quickly that they had taken on a sense of unreality. She sat shivering in the aft of the boat, still clinging to Captain Stoddard’s coat for warmth.
“How is Achmed?” she asked in an urgent voice. “Has anyone seen him?”
Some of the men were surprised that the Turkish woman spoke English.
“Yes, madame.” Cappy finally spoke up. “His wounds are deep. But he was taken to the
Victorious
, where the ship’s surgeon, Dr. Rutledge, is looking after him.”
Brittany lapsed into silence, hoping that Achmed would survive. He was such a strong man, and he had been so brave—surely he would not die now.
Brittany’s eyes went to the captain. It was still dark, so he was no more than a shadowy outline. “Captain Stoddard, how can I thank you and these men for what they have done for Achmed and myself?”
Thorn frowned, wondering if he had misjudged her. Perhaps there was more to her character than just being the spoiled plaything of the Grand Vizier. She had certainly acted admirably tonight. He spoke to her in a kind voice. “It is all included in the cost of the fare, madame.”
“I fear you got the worst of the bargain, Captain. The fare was not near enough to pay for the damages you have incurred because of me.”
His laughter was soft. “Have no fear on that point, madame; I shall have a detailed assessment presented to Lord Simijin, your husband…” He paused. “No, I don’t suppose Lord Simijin is your husband, since you are his concubine.”
Brittany did not bother to deny the captain’s wrong assumption, but she did so dislike him believing she was a woman of the harem.
“Yes, Simijin will repay you,” she said, suddenly feeling very homesick for her mother and stepfather.
Thorn felt cold toward her again. For a few hours he had forgotten that she was little more than a concubine. Remembering was not a pleasant feeling for him.
“Think nothing of it, madame. Your slave was the one who suffered the most.”
“Yes,” Brittany said. “I fear for him, Captain.”
Brittany was seated beside Achmed’s bed, holding his hand, as though by the sheer force of will, she could keep him alive. Two days had passed since she and Captain Stoddard had been rescued from the Turkish ship.
Since returning to the
Victorious
, she had helped Dr. Rutledge nurse Achmed. Even though the giant was unconscious and unaware of anything that went on around him, Brittany talked to him soothingly, hoping somewhere in his world between life and death, he would hear her voice and respond.
“Achmed, you just have to get better. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Open your eyes and look at me, please.”
The eunuch did not stir.
With heart-wrenching sadness, Brittany stood up to ease her cramped muscles. It was sultry inside the cabin, so she had abandoned her veil, vowing she would never wear it again. She hoped her mother would understand.
She raised the heavy curtain of hair off the back of her neck, wishing the
Victorious
would get underway because it would be cooler at sea.
Brittany had not seen Captain Stoddard since the night he had brought her back to the ship. Of course, she hardly left this room where Achmed lay so near death, and the captain had been occupied with the repairs on the ship.
Brittany could hear sounds of loading and unloading above deck. Apparently they would soon be underway. She would not be sorry to see the last of this island.
She took Achmed’s huge hand in hers. What tomorrow would bring, she could not guess, but could anything be worse than what she had lived through? She had been parted from her mother, pursued by the sultan’s warships, and, worst of all, Achmed might die—Dr. Rutledge had said so.
As she stared at him, Brittany remembered all the times Achmed had brightened her life. He had always been kind to her, and had gone out of his way to make her life easier. Until lately she had not known how deeply that devotion ran.
“You must live, Achmed, so I can tell you how dear you are to me. You must!”
There was no response, and she moved back, resting her head against the chair, too weary to think. Her eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep.
The quiet of the early morning was interrupted by the sound of an anchor grinding into place. The sails of the majestic
Victorious
caught the stiff breeze as she put out to sea. Her captain stood at the helm, his sure hands guiding her out of the harbor.
Cappy stood beside Thorn, his eyes watchful, repeating his captain’s spoken commands to the crew. Within an hour, the
Victorious
caught the trade wind and moved swiftly out to open water.
The first mate glanced at Thorn. “The port authorities told me that the Turkish ship left yesterday, Captain. But I wonder if she made her homeward journey, or if she is laying in wait for us somewhere.”
“We shall assume that she is waiting for us, and act accordingly, Cappy. Post a twenty-four-hour watch.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“How is the woman?”
“She hasn’t left Achmed’s bedside. She is very devoted to him.”
Thorn was willing to admit that the woman had some human qualities. “Of course she is devoted to him and will
nurse him back to health if possible. After all, if anything happens to the eunuch, who would take care of her needs? I have my doubts that she could function if she had to take care of herself.”
“I think you misjudge her, Captain. I have seen enough to know she really cares about the eunuch.”
“That is certain. As I pointed out, he is that woman’s fetch-and-carry boy.”
Cappy watched his captain with a speculative eye. Although Thorn Stoddard was often with a pretty woman when they were in port, Cappy knew he did not have a very high opinion of females. But it seemed the captain was unusually harsh toward this one. The first mate knew Thorn’s bitterness had something to do with his stepmother, but he did not know the whole story.
“In truth, Captain, our passenger isn’t a woman at all, but a very young girl. You see, she no longer wears that veil to cover her face, and I saw her. She sure is a pretty little thing. She has eyes that—”
Thorn’s hands gripped the wheel, and the muscle in his jaw tightened into a hard line. For some reason he did not want to hear anything good about that woman. She had been nothing but trouble to him since the beginning. He had little doubt that she would continue to be an annoyance until he was rid of her.
“Spare me, if you are going to sing her praises, Cappy. And, whether she be woman or girl, it’s all the same to me. Just see that she follows orders and keeps away from the men. I don’t want any more trouble from her.”
“Aye,” Cappy agreed, wondering why Thorn was being so critical when this girl had proved herself to be bold-hearted. What was there about her that always seemed to provoke the captain?
Thorn paused at the cabin where Achmed lay gravely wounded. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door and stepped inside. The waning light showed the vague outline
of the eunuch where he lay on the bunk, so still and lifeless. Thorn’s eyes moved from the injured man to search the cabin for the woman, for he had been told she was there.
In the half-light, he saw her in the straight-back chair, her head dropped to the side, obviously asleep. Her midnight-black hair spilled down her shoulders, almost to her waist. Cappy had been right, she was unveiled, and he was about to see her face for the first time.
Excitement throbbed through his body as he stepped closer. He saw the gentle slope of her breasts as they rose and fell with her breathing, and her dainty hands were clasped together and rested in her lap.
Stepping around the bunk, he did not see the table where the medicines had been placed until he had bumped into it and sent the contents crashing to the floor.
Brittany jumped to her feet, instantly coming awake. With large, luminous eyes, she stared at Thorn Stoddard while he stared back at her. Those were the eyes of a seductress, an enchantress, but there was also uncertainty there.
Thorn’s eyes moved over the slight figure who came only to his shoulder. She was not dressed in her usual heavy robe. Instead she wore a pale-blue French-style gown with butterflies embroidered along the hem. The high-waisted creation fit snugly above her firm, young breasts. It was what any young lady in a Charleston drawing room could have worn.
Almost reluctantly, he raised his eyes to her face, his attention drawn first to her green eyes with their depth of intelligence far beyond her years.
As if he had no will of his own, Thorn looked upon the face that had so bewitched Sultan Selim that he had sent his warships to capture her. Each of her features was perfectly formed, and, yes, it was a face that men would willingly fight and die for. The dark skin and hair seemed somehow out of place with the green eyes, but they only added to her overall mystique. She was breathtakingly beautiful, there was no denying that.
“I…must have fallen asleep, Captain.” She glanced at Achmed. “He is still unconscious.”
Her words did not penetrate Thorn’s consciousness because he was caught up in watching the way her long lashes swept her cheeks.
Brittany was beginning to feel uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny. “Captain, I know Dr. Rutledge has done all he can for Achmed, but I am so fearful of his chance for survival. If only he would awaken.”
“Have you rested?” Thorn asked, noting the faint circles under her eyes. “I mean other than sleeping in that chair. You should go to your cabin.”
“I will not leave, for I could not rest if I were not with Achmed.”
Thorn did not believe that a woman of the harem could be so devoted to a slave. He doubted her motives, and his voice grew hard. “Do you ever think of this man as other than a servant who grants your slightest request?”
Now her gaze was cool. “Of course. Achmed is my friend. I have known him all my life. I have told you this before, but you choose not to believe me.”
“Do you really cares what happens to him, or are you concerned that you will be without a servant if he dies?”
Her eyes closed, and her feelings reeled from his bitterness. Until Brittany had met this man, she had never had such angry contempt directed at her, and she did not know how to deal with it. She turned away from him so he would not see the hurt in her eyes.
“Do not concern yourself with my motives, Captain. If I am selfish or not, it is no concern of yours.”
“You are right,” he answered. “Your motives are no concern to me, but your safety has become my concern, whether I want it to be or not.”
She turned back to him. “I have not made you responsible for me.”
He stared into the eyes that were so remarkable in depth and color that he could scarcely catch his breath. “Weigh
this well: The moment you stepped on this ship, you became my charge, just as everyone else on board the
Victorious
is in my care.”
She raised her chin. “As soon as we reach land, I will be glad to remove myself and Achmed from your ship, this releasing you of our tiresome presence.”
He smiled, but not with amusement. “You cannot look forward to that event more than I. When next we put ashore, you will step on American soil and out of my life.”
“What have I done to make you angry with me? Achmed told me he has paid for our passage. I understand you have been through much because of me, but it was hardly my fault.”
He was startled for a moment. “Have I said that I was angry with you?”
“Do you always treat people with such disrespect, or do you reserve your ill temper for women alone?”
Thorn and Brittany stared at each other long and hard. “Perhaps I reserve my ill temper for tempestuous young women who act like queens, when, in truth, they are little more than women of the street.” He reached forward and touched the huge emerald at her neck. “Only your price sets you apart from the common harlot.”
Brittany gasped at his insult. The eyebrows arched above the green eyes that sparked with anger. “How dare you speak to me thus.” She took the several steps that brought her closer to Achmed. “I do not ever wish to talk to you again, Captain Stoddard. You may leave.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Just see that you stay out of my way.” He turned on his heels and left, closing the door behind him.
Once he was outside, he paused to look out to sea, knowing that he had hurt the girl, and wondering what there was about her that made him so angry. Why should he care that the Grand Vizier was her lover? Why did he resent the fact that she appeared so young and innocent, when he knew she was not?
Thorn stared into the distance where frothy white clouds billowed across the endless sky. He did not even know anything about her. Why did she have to be so damned beautiful, and why could he not cleanse his mind of her?
He turned back with the intention of returning to the cabin and apologizing for his harsh words, but at that moment, Cappy called to him. He would apologize to her later, for he had been too harsh with her. But why?
“Did you see the girl?” Cappy asked, turning the helm over to his captain.
“I saw her,” came Thorn’s curt reply.
“And?”
“Don’t you have duties to perform, Mr. Hamish?”
Brittany bent down to pick up the medicine bottles the captain had knocked over. She righted the table and then moved to sit beside Achmed. When she sank down in the hard chair, she felt as if her heart had been bruised by the captain’s unflattering assessment of her character. She hated the lie that stood between them. Most of all, she resented his judging her without knowing her.
What right did he have to accuse her so harshly? Anger still burned within her. What did it matter what this American thought of her? They would soon part company, and she would never have to see him again.
She moved forward, placing a cool hand on Achmed’s fevered brow, wishing he would awaken. He would know how to advise her. She had never been allowed to make decisions on her own. She certainly did not know how to deal with men like Captain Thorn Stoddard.
The door opened and Brittany jumped to her feet, thinking it would be the captain returning. She was relieved when the kindly Dr. Rutledge smiled at her from beneath shaggy eyebrows.
“How is our patient this afternoon?”
Brittany shook her head. “There has been no change in his condition, Dr. Rutledge. What can this mean?”
The doctor moved to Achmed’s side and raised a limp wrist, placing his thumb down on the pressure point. “It means that he has been gravely injured and his body is resting so it can heal itself.”
“Will Achmed live, Doctor?” she asked with hope in her heart.
“I cannot say, little lady. I’ve done all that I can to help him; now he is in God’s hands.”
“What are his chances of regaining consciousness?” she pressed, needing an answer.
He shrugged. “I can tell you no more than I have. He was badly injured, and it could go either way with him. Why don’t you go to your cabin and get some rest.”
“I cannot leave him.”
The doctor smiled kindly. “I will sit with him for a while. I’ll call you if there is any change.”
She nodded reluctantly. “If it will satisfy you, I will go and refresh myself and rest for a short while.” She moved across the cabin and paused at the door. “You will let me know right away if he needs me?”
“I will.”
Brittany left the cabin, unaware that hostile Turkish eyes watched her from the shadows at the far end of the corridor.
On Admiral Kainardji’s orders, the man, Jah, had managed to sneak on board the
Victorious
just before she had put to sea. He had been hiding in the hold so he would not be discovered, for he had a mission to fulfill.
Admiral Kainardji had decided that if he could not take the daughter of the English Rose back to the sultan, perhaps he could redeem himself in the sultan’s eyes by reporting that the girl was dead!
Jah had been waiting for the opportunity to present itself to carry out the admiral’s order. He watched the girl go into a cabin and close the door behind her. Now he knew where to find her.