The Lady Machinist (Curiosity Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

Gradually, a dim light filtered through his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes to find two figures standing over him. One held his lantern.

“Finley,” Rhys grated out.

“How was your nap?” The navigator made conversation as though they were sitting for afternoon tea. “I thought you’d be out longer, but your head is thick.”

Rhys touched his temple, coming away with dirt and blood on his fingers. “You struck me.”

“No. Thomas struck you. He also put you in that cell, but it was all my idea.”

Rhys shifted his focus and saw for the first time the black bars that separated him from the two crewmen. Instinct made him reach for the keys at his belt. They were gone. He attempted to raise himself up from his prostrate position. His clothes were drenched in bilge. “Why?”

Finley sighed. “Do I have to explain? It would take longer than I’d care to devote time to.”

“This is treason.”

“Don’t talk to me of treason.” Finley replaced his flippant tone with a sharp order. “I spent years defending New Britannia from seafaring criminals like you. I was on the ship that apprehended the
The Neptune
.”

Rhys stared in shock at the physical manifestation of his past come back to haunt him.

“You don’t remember seeing me. I had orders to remain in the chart room while the admiral stormed
The Neptune
, but my navigations led us to you. And how does the Crown reward me for my work?” Finley’s eyes glinted with hatred as he grabbed the cell bars. “Her Majesty appoints you, the very scourge of the sea, as an ambassador and COIC agent while ordering me to navigate your ship like a common cabin boy. There lies the real treason.”

The former naval officer shook with jealousy, so much that he rattled the bars of the cell. Thomas remained silent next to him, a mask of repugnance upon his face as he returned Rhys’ glare.

Of course. How did he not see it before? The two of them had days, weeks even, to stage this. Finley worked in close proximity to Thomas. That allowed him to fan the man’s already highly superstitious and suspicious nature.

The makings of a neat little mutiny.

This was the last time he let the COIC pick his crewmen. “If you didn’t want to sail under my flag, Finley, you could have refused the position.”

“Spoken like the ignorant pirate that you are. No one refuses a royal appointment to the COIC, even if the outfit is organized with felons.”

Rhys spat blood. “Then you should feel right at home. You’re a traitor. You and Thomas conspired to detain me and usurp my authority. Do you honestly think the rest of the crew will follow you?”

“They will if they want to live.”

“Where is the crew?”

“Thomas, show him.”

The deck hand raised the lamp overhead. As light covered more of the room, Rhys saw the remnants of his crew. Malcolm was slumped in the far left corner. Smythe and O’Neil were positioned to the right.

Finley prodded Malcolm in the rib with his foot. “I know these three are doggedly loyal to you and would refuse to join me. They’ve had a dousing of chloroform from the infirmary table. Perhaps they’ll see reason once they wake.”

Finley and Thomas must have administered the chloroform while the crew was asleep and while he was residing unconscious in the brig. Did they do the same to Lydia? Rhys prayed they didn’t get to her, that she was still safe in the locked cabin until he could come for her. “Am I to assume you’ve also rallied Duncan to your cause?”

Finley gave a thin smile. He nudged Malcolm over, so that all but the bosun’s nose and mouth were covered in the filthy water.

“What happened to this cell’s last occupant?” Rhys asked.

“Nikolaos is waiting in the galley. I told him of this in advance.”

Rhys muttered, “Nikolaos doesn’t waste an opportunity, especially if he thought you would gain the upper hand.”

“He was correct.”

“That remains to be seen.” Rhys turned and addressed the deck hand. “What made you take part in this, Thomas?”

Thomas spit between the bars of the cell. “Captain Finley told me about your pirating days. I won’t sail under no jolly roger. And no true captain lets a woman run his ship.”

Finley released a little chuckle. “Thomas, get the engine operational again. I’ll guard the prisoners until you return.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Once the deck hand left, Finley circled Rhys’ cell, smug in his victory. “Your talent for observation lapsed since going to Aspasia. That woman must have done more tinkering with you than with the engine.”

Rhys’ blood stirred at the mention of Lydia. “Where is she?”

“I haven’t done away with her, if that’s what you mean.”

“If you’ve harmed her—”

“You see, that’s why you came to be in that cell. You lost your wits by falling in love with that cow.” For one moment, Finley was close enough for Rhys to grab him. He stepped back with a small laugh.

Rhys growled, ready to smash his smug face through the bars. “If you’ve harmed Lydia in any way, it will be better for you to throw yourself overboard before I get out of this cell.”

“You are in love with her. Amazing what some men will give up for a woman’s fleeting affection.” Finley wiped the sarcasm from his face, replacing it with a hard and resolute determination. “Your position and
The Enlightened
both should have been mine. I will remedy that.”

The ship jostled as the engine kicked into gear. Thomas came back to the brig. Finley started for the exit.

Rhys rose up and called after him. “Even if you kill me, Finley, you can never go back to New Britannia. You’ll get the gallows for this.”

Finley hovered in the doorway. “Who said anything about returning to New Britannia?”

“Drop the pistol, your ladyship.”

Lydia did as she was told as Duncan pressed the cold barrel of his gun hard against her scalp. Her firearm clattered to the floor beside the bed.

The room fell silent again, except for Duncan’s heavy breathing. His palm was clammy against her mouth and stank of sour sweat. “When I move my hand, you’d better not scream, or I’ll shoot you. Got it?”

She nodded.

Duncan took his hand from her face, but kept the gun positioned behind her head. “Get up.”

Lydia considered diving for her pistol, but not knowing where it landed on the floor in the dark, she wouldn’t have time to find it before he pulled the trigger of his gun. She chose to comply with his demand.

Her back brushed against his arm when she sat up. Lydia felt a sharp tug on her shirt as he yanked her from the bed and thrust her against the wall. She put out her hands to keep her face from smashing against a rivet.

“Not one word.” Duncan dragged her from the wall and set her ahead of him. “Walk to the door.”

He remained close behind as she traced her steps in the dark. The toe of her sock caught the edge of her trunk. She doubled over and tripped. Duncan cursed before hauling her to her feet, keeping her shirt in his fist as he deposited her in the corridor. “Keep moving.”

Lydia immediately assessed her surroundings in hopes of a chance to escape. The guide lights in the hall were out, save for one flickering lantern at the far end past the galley. At Duncan’s direction, she stumbled through the hall towards it.

They passed the crew’s quarters, where the door hung wide open. Where were the other men? Dread swept through Lydia as she stopped and craned her neck to peer into the blackness.

Duncan jerked her. “I told you to keep moving, I did. Do I need to knock some sense into you?”

Pain exploded in her head as he smacked the butt of his gun against her temple. The corridor became a blur as she staggered. Air rushed past her ears like the sound of rolling waves as she experienced the sensation of being lifted off her feet.

Lydia blinked several times before her vision cleared. Her head bounced with every lumbering step as Duncan carried her down the hall over his shoulder, murmuring something about wanting to use chloroform. She closed her eyes as the jarring motion caused bile to rise in her throat.

Minutes later he deposited her on a cold, hard surface. Lydia’s eyes popped open to see the wooden benches and stove of the galley. One large lantern illuminated it all, residing on the table closest to her. She pushed herself into a seated position on the floor.

Duncan kept the gun pointed at her as he backed into the doorway. He remained there, watching her and blocking the entrance.

“Lydia.”

She turned. Nikolaos sat on the floor beside her, his hands restrained in his lap with a rope. He looked distressed, but certainly not confused. “What’s happening to us?” she whispered in Greek.

Nikolaos’ eyes shifted to Duncan. When he saw that the deck hand wasn’t moving from the entrance, he addressed her. “A mutiny has taken place. Cartret is no longer captain of the ship.”

Sweat broke out on the back of Lydia’s neck.

“The deck hands removed me from the brig. They restrained me when I refused to take part in the mutiny. I watched them take the crewmen’s bodies past this room.”

“No.” Lydia inhaled, but air would not go into her lungs.

Nikolaos studied his bound wrists. “Before they took me upstairs, I saw…Lydia, I saw Thomas drag the captain’s body into the brig.”

A wrenching ache fell over her. Her heart squeezed in her chest as her blood ran cold. Nikolaos called her name again, but she couldn’t respond. Her lips went numb. Her entire face had no feeling except for the hot tears that began to spill down her cheeks.

“Lydia, you must remain coherent. I think the remaining crewmembers intend to spare us—” Nikolaos didn’t finish his sentence as Duncan came forward and delivered a kick to his stomach.

“Enough with that island gibberish. Shut up before I gag you both.”

“Duncan, that’s no way to treat our foreign dignitaries.” Finley strode through the door with Rhys’ pistol in hand.

Through her tears, Lydia watched Duncan straighten. “Apologies, Captain Finley. I didn’t know if the two o’ ‘em were plotting an escape in that guttural.”

“Where would they go? We’re in the middle of the ocean.” Finley snapped his fingers at Lydia and Nikolaos. “Get on your feet.”

Lydia’s legs were stone. Her head pounded from Duncan’s assault.

“You must stand.” Nikolaos used the wall to push himself to his feet.

“I’ll get her to stand.” Duncan plodded forward.

Finley stopped him. “No. I’ll assist her.”

Lydia froze when she saw him deposit Rhys’ pistol in his belt. Chills ran down her arms when Finley’s hands touched her and pulled her up. The hands that took Rhys’ life.

“Are you sufficient now?” he questioned without the slightest bit of concern.

She looked up at him. His face was locked in an unreadable expression, though hardness shone in his eyes. “Did you kill Rhys?”

“You don’t need to know how I assumed control of the ship.”

She lowered her chin to keep it from trembling. “What do you have in mind for us?”

“A proposal. You’ll find it better than anything that pirate Rhys Cartret ever offered you.”

Pirate? Lydia parted her lips to speak, but Finley moved on. “Unlike Cartret, I respect you.”

She balked at the boldfaced lie. “Rhys would have never held me at gunpoint.”

“Aren’t you the hypocrite? Not that you greeted me amicably when we first met. But all that is past.” Finley fabricated a forgiving smile. “Duncan brought you here this way because I had to ensure you’d come without a struggle. Not that it worked, from what I see of that knot on your head. Was she too much for you, Duncan?”

Duncan snorted. “Hardly. It wouldn’t have hurt to use some of that chloroform on her, though.”

“Come stand over her with that gun while she sits at the table.”

Once Lydia and Nikolaos were seated, Finley pushed his hands in his pockets. “There are two ways we can go about this. Let’s try the diplomatic approach first.” He leaned across the table. “Some time ago when I was stationed off the coast of Le Havre, I made the acquaintance of Monsieur Broussard. He’s an industrialist. You may have heard of him. ”

“I was told he was a criminal wanted by New Britannia.”

“I’m not surprised that Cartret persuaded you to take his stance on politics. Where was I? Before we sailed to Aspasia, I secretly sent word to Broussard about your automatons.”

“Was that why those French pirates came after us?”

“Yes, though I don’t know why Broussard chooses to employ pirates. Incompetent grunts, the whole lot. When Rhys managed to fend them off, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.” Finley clapped once. “So here is Broussard’s alternative. If you give him the automatons, he will match the price that New Britannia agreed to, only the money will go directly to you instead of Aspasia.”

Lydia didn’t know where to start with such an outrageous suggestion. “This Broussard tried to plunder the ship. Now he gives you authority to bargain for the automatons since stealing them didn’t work?”

Nikolaos nudged her foot under the table.

What did he know about this business? She glared at him before continuing to speak to Finley. “An irrevocable agreement has been made with New Britannia.”

“Who’s to say that
The Enlightened
ever made landfall in Aspasia?”

Was he delusional? “But you know that
The Enlightened
reached us, and that Rhys drew up the agreement.”

Finley folded his hands atop the table. “Ships get lost at sea all the time. With Cartret’s pirate past, it would come as no surprise that he and the crew decided to leave New Britannia with the money and go rogue.”

“You’re very comfortable referring to Rhys as a pirate.”

“As he was comfortable being one.” Finley slid onto the bench opposite her and Nikolaos. “New Britannia was perfectly happy to condone his behavior despite jailing him for it.”

“You’re not making the least bit of sense to me. Nor you, Nikolaos.” Lydia swung her head in his direction. “But you and Finley seem to share an understanding.”

Nikolaos flattened his mouth. “Cartret was convicted on charges of piracy two years ago. He was imprisoned for it and then set free.”