Rebellious Cargo Read online

  Crosby straightened raising the broom to strike in retaliation when he caught sight of the pistol in her hands – pointed straight at his heart.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he sneered, although his eyes darted nervously around the empty room. “You are a mad woman – you would hang.”

  “It would almost be worth it to see you die. Now, get down on your knees and stay there.”

  Crosby eyes fixed on the gun as he cautiously dropped to his knees.

  Jane looked at him in disgust. “Now you have an apology to make to Celine, and if you ever lay a hand on her again I will kill you.” She glanced over at Celine who was now back on her feet and whose eyes were fixed at a point beyond Jane’s shoulder.

  A large hand reached from behind her and snatched the pistol from her fingers, then a vice-like grip enveloped her arm and forcibly guided her towards the door. The voice of the chaplain followed her, loudly proclaiming how one woman had tried to scald him and the other was about to murder him.

  Chapter Seven

  The captain had not spoken since he had virtually marched her to his cabin. She was now staring warily at his broad-shouldered back as he looked out of the stern window. She could tell he was trying to keep check on his temper. The rage she had seen in his face a few minutes ago had been enough to quell her own anger somewhat. He finally turned and the knot of fear inside her tightened at his expression.

  “I have never been overly impressed by your etiquette but I had hoped you would have the decency to act like a lady whilst on board, instead of some common fishwife.”

  Jane flinched at the harsh words. “Your chaplain had assaulted Celine. I was just protecting her, as no one sees fit to check him on this ship. I am not frightened by his holy status; he is a bully of the worst kind.”

  His hand came crashing down on the desk causing charts and papers to lift off the surface.

  “How dare you question my command? Damn you! Can you not stop from being a menace on my ship?”

  Stunned by the violence of his reaction, she felt like a fly stuck in a web until her mind flashed back to Crosby striking Celine, and then the whole injustice of the situation flowed through her, restoring her courage.

  “My behaviour may have seemed vulgar but given the same set of circumstances I would do exactly the same – except next time, I will shoot him.”

  Adam reeled around and she thought he might strike her but he pointed to a chair.

  “Sit.”

  She did, and he moved back towards the window. Jane glanced at him beneath lowered lashes. His anger had shifted to a menacing quietness, which left her just as uneasy.

  “Has Crosby ill-treated you in the past?” he asked finally.

  Jane studied her hands in her lap formulating her reply, not yet wanting to reveal all the facts. “I have reason to believe he is not what he professes to be.”

  The captain raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.

  “I do not believe he is a chaplain – he is here under false pretences, which makes him a likely suspect for being a spy. And you did say we should be wary of spies.”

  “Wary, yes – shoot them out of hand, no. Do you have any proof?”

  “Not of him being a spy. But I have reliable information that his past has been far from the realms of the church.”

  “Who is the source of this information?”

  “I am not prepared to say, but you must confront Crosby, or at least check his credentials, and then you will see for yourself.”

  “So you think Crosby is not a chaplain but you cannot tell me why. I think, Mrs. Charlesworth, you should reconsider and tell me everything you know.”

  “I have told you all that I can. Crosby needs to be exposed as a fraud.”

  He waited for her to explain further but she couldn’t relate Celine’s tragic story – not to him.

  Finally his patience snapped. “Chaplain Crosby you will leave to me. I forbid you to go anywhere near him, which I am about to make easy for you. You will be confined to your cabin until further notice.” He rose abruptly, stalked to the cabin door, and called for his second lieutenant, who must have had his ear pressed to the door, as he appeared instantly.

  “Please escort the lady to her cabin; she is under ship’s arrest until I say otherwise.” Will’s usually amiable face was filled with discomfort as she turned to follow him.

  “Thank you, Captain. I am not surprised by your lack of support. I learnt on an earlier voyage not to expect justice on a naval ship.”

  ***

  Adam sat down after she had left, and tried to piece together the strange turn of events. The hurt and betrayal etched on her face stayed with him, like a stone lodged in his gut.

  He had already studied Crosby’s letters of introduction when he had first become aware of the man’s incompetence. They looked authentic; nevertheless he had penned his own enquiries, but he would not get a reply for months. He wasn’t prepared to enlighten Mrs. Charlesworth on this fact, not until he was sure of what was going on. He was still furious with her for causing such an incident instead of coming to him and revealing the whole truth about her suspicions.

  He hated the thought of keeping her confined to her cabin, but in the short term it would be easier for her own safety. He did not think Crosby was a spy even if he was not the person he purported to be. He was too stupid for a start. But he suspected there was one aboard. The attack from the French ships just after they picked up Mrs. Charlesworth seemed too much of a coincidence. And until he was sure, she could be in great danger. Crosby he would also confine to his cabin. Striking a servant was hardly a crime, but Crosby had an unhealthy dislike for the women on his ship. As for Mrs. Charlesworth, he would let her cool her heels for a while and then she was going to give him some answers.

  In a few days, if the wind held, they should be in Malta where he would be relieved of his difficult charge. He grimaced and a faint surge of melancholy rippled through him at the thought. Under different circumstance he would have liked the opportunity to know her better and treat her as the desirable woman she was instead of a difficult and dangerous cargo.

  ***

  Crosby sat in his cabin where he had been ordered to remain, hatred seeping through him. He had been questioned about his papers and told to expect a change of ship. But he couldn’t risk going back to England or any investigation into his past. His letter of introduction and credentials were genuine, of course – they just did not belong to him.

  Women again! Messing up his life. How he hated the whole damn lot of them. Their lecherous bodies and devious minds. They were put on earth to obey and serve. He would repay these two somehow, just as he had silenced the ones in the past when they had taken it upon themselves to answer back. For years he had put up with his stepmother’s treatment. When her cruelty had driven his father to an early grave, she had turned on him. She had humiliated him daily as a boy with her jibes and beatings. It wasn’t until he had returned from his time on the slave ships that he realised how cheap life was.

  He had mastered those bitches on the ship, and after his return he was determined not to let any woman humiliate him again. After a particular violent and verbal attack from his stepmother, he had silenced her for good. He could still see the surprise on her face as his hands had wrapped around her thick neck and squeezed the life from her. He had no remorse – only a hatred of women, especially those who had opinions, who questioned his authority.

  He opened his strong box and sifted through his findings for the day. Some of the better connected of his charges had small amounts of funds stashed away, and he often rifled through their quarters whilst they were otherwise occupied. The young brat of a viscount had a nasty little secret. He fingered the letter on his desk which he had stolen earlier. This could be useful to him in the future. A nice little fundraiser.

  He liked the life of a chaplain; he liked the power and the respect. He had almost forgotten the real Reverend Albert Crosby, safely anchored with his
throat cut in the murky depths of Portsmouth docks.

  ***

  Jane did a quick calculation as the sound of eight bells rang through the length of the ship. She had now spent the best part of two days confined to her cabin, and with nothing to do she was thoroughly out of sorts. Celine was permitted to deliver her meals and see to her personal needs – other than that she had spoken to no one.

  There was too much time to reflect on past events. Black moments she had banished to the back of her mind; but with the long empty hours they continually haunted her. The air was stale with the sweat of the three hundred men who were on board, and she longed for the cool breath of the wind on her face. The imprisonment made past injustices grate against her, like salt on an open wound.

  Lord Frederick Pennington had been first lieutenant on the ship that had transported her down to Gibraltar where she was to meet Andrew’s lawyers and take ownership of the Elinora. From the moment she boarded, he had plagued her with his advances. She had spent her time during those first days keeping her distance and temper. But he would not take her rejection seriously, and when one evening he had tried to force himself on her, she had fought like a tiger and managed with a few practiced kicks, to deter him.

  She had sought out the captain of the ship for help, but he had refused to listen. Afterwards she knew why. She could still picture Captain Flint, a tall powerful man on the outside but cowardly, weak, and dishonourable in his duty towards her. Pennington’s family had prestigious connections, ones who could seriously influence the admiral’s list, and she was not deemed important enough to be an obstacle in this captain’s promotional aspirations. So he had looked down his rather long nose and decided it would be in her interest to overlook the incident with Lieutenant Pennington, and advised her not to repeat the story, as her reputation would certainly be ruined.

  Not content with this escape, Pennington had his revenge a day later just before they docked in Gibraltar. The crew had been given extra grog rations and the ship was full of half-drunken hands. Most would not have harmed her, but Pennington could buy any help he needed. She had been bound and delivered to him like a sacrifice and he had exacted a chilling revenge.

  She had not gone to the captain again.

  Now, here on this ship, she had another bully to deal with. Jane’s insides tightened at the thought of Crosby. Celine had told her she had not seen Crosby since he had struck her, but the captain’s actions only made her aware that yet again she was on her own – despite all his protestations of keeping her safe, which she had foolishly started to believe.

  The feel of Pennington’s hands crawled over her skin for weeks after the assault. The cruel, cold violation on her body had left her dead inside.

  Jane had been a virgin when she married Andrew. He had been a kind man who she knew cared for her. But their short relationship had been one of convenience. Andrew showed no great passion towards her. The marriage had been consummated in a clumsy, considerate act which it seemed neither of them was anxious to repeat. He had left to oversee the safe shipping of a valuable consignment two weeks after the wedding, and she had never seen him again. After news of his death at sea had reached her, she had felt guilt and regret. Had she failed Andrew by not making herself more desirable? Perhaps if their marriage had been given more time their relationship might have blossomed.

  A summons to the main cabin two hours later finally broke the intolerable confinement. Thankful to get out of her quarters, even if it was to another acrimonious interview, she straightened her dress and tidied her hair. She fell into step beside the marine escorting her, enjoying stretching her under-exercised limbs. As she emerged out on deck, she paused to savour the warm Mediterranean breeze on her face and nod to Will Forbes, who was holding the watch. He spoke quietly to her as she passed. “Keep your temper and don’t argue. He has your interest at heart, you know. No one wants you locked up. I have to say life is extraordinary tedious with you confined to your cabin.”

  Tedious indeed, she agreed, but her spirits lifted a little as she studied the sails. If this wind kept up, then surely Malta would not be more than a few days away.

  Chapter Eight

  Adam’s gaze flicked over her as she entered his cabin. Her skin was paler than usual and she had lost some of her radiance; the result of being confined, he thought, with a small tug of guilt. He waved her to a seat and she complied, looking at him with eyes filled with accusation and not a glimmer of remorse.

  He cleared his throat and prepared for the next battle.

  “Crosby will be removed from the ship once we reach Malta. I am satisfied, however, that he is not a spy.”

  “He is not a chaplain either,” she countered.

  “I haven’t been able to disprove your accusation, but either way I intend to keep him confined to his cabin until I have some answers. Your paths will not cross again whilst you are under my protection.”

  She gave a curt nod. “That is reassuring to know.”

  “None of this, however, excuses your behaviour, but it may help me to understand better if you tell me how you know the man.”

  She looked down at her hands. She was hiding something and he was determined to find out what it was. Finally she looked up and paused for a moment before replying.

  “I have not met him before, but he has served on slave ships in the past. Someone I know had the unfortunate experience of watching her mother die at his hands.”

  Adam frowned as he watched her eyes glisten with emotion. My God! Was she talking about Celine? The cause of her actions was beginning to fall into place now. Serving on a slave ship would not have been a crime even though the practice of transportation was exceptionally cruel. But it didn’t sit with the letter of recommendation that had accompanied Crosby.

  He deliberated silently for a few moments and then rose and opened the locker underneath the stern window. He pulled out a bottle of brandy and poured out two glasses, much to her surprise.

  He handed a glass to her. “You look like you could do with this.”

  Her small hand shook as she accepted the drink and asked, “Why are you so sure he is not a spy? And what is he doing here, under a false identity?”

  He sat down, leaned back in his chair and settled his eyes on her. “As a rule spies melt into their surroundings. By the very nature of their work they need to fit in, make friends, make people trust them.” He paused to taste the brandy. “They do not look or do anything to draw attention to themselves; now does that sound like Crosby?”

  She considered his words.

  “What you say certainly makes sense, Captain, but I know Crosby is evil. There must be a reason why he is here.”

  “I have initiated enquiries into his past, but a reply will take time. Is he aware that Celine knows him from the slave ship?”

  “I did not say it was Celine.”

  “I know you have a poor opinion of my intellect, Mrs. Charlesworth, but I am able to piece together the obvious conclusion.”

  “I do not think you are stupid, Captain Marston,” she replied softly. “Crosby has not recognised Celine, although she will live with the memory of his evil deeds forever. But he will pay some day for his cruelty.”

  He looked at her sharply. “Neither of you will attempt any kind of retribution. You have caused enough trouble already, and more seriously put yourself in danger. I can understand your anger, but you know Celine’s word would not be enough to convict him.” He paused and rubbed a hand over his chin. “The slave trade was a dirty business but it was not a crime to serve on the ships – but justice will have to be meted out through the proper channels.”

  “So you are to do nothing!”

  He kept his tone even, despite her hostility.

  “Crosby will be dealt with my way. If you had come to me first, we could have tackled the problem together and found a more dignified way of dealing with it.”

  “Dignity is not something he deserves,” she replied.

  “No, but you d
o. I have orders to protect you and I mean to do that even if it entails locking you up.”

  The soft delivery of his threat made her features soften as she seemed to concede that her safety was at the forefront of his actions.

  “I don’t wish to be an encumbrance to you – it is just I have encountered bullies before and have had to deal with them alone.” She paused and looked at him. “However, apart from Crosby, I have no cause to complain about your officers or crew. They have treated me with respect and kindness.”

  “But not the captain,” Adam prompted at her obvious omission.

  A blush crept over her face, and he marvelled at just how lovely she looked when she wasn’t scowling.

  “I think your treatment of me uncommonly highhanded at times, Captain.” Her voice failed to keep the reproach intended.

  “Maybe – but that’s the way it will continue until you decide that my orders are to be obeyed at all times, not just when you feel like it. But I would rather you and I were not always at odds. I assure you I don’t want you locked up in your cabin any more than you want to be there.”

  “That is good to know.” She gave him a small smile that tugged at his heart. His spirits lifted as he continued.

  “I have given a lot of thought to your need to keep your mind busy. I may have been too hasty in dismissing your assistance in some areas. So, tomorrow I require you to help with the mountain of paper work, which needs sorting out since my purser was killed. I would also like you to help in the education of the younger midshipmen, especially mathematics. I have been reliably informed by young Blackton that you are a competent replacement for Crosby. Although, there are two, Cross and Anderson, who will likely be affronted by being tutored by a woman. However, I do have a responsibility to keep up their education and I am sure you will rise to the challenge.”