Enchantress (8 page)

Thorn had paused to catch his breath, when he looked up
winding stairs to see a beautiful woman smiling down at him. Her name was Wilhelmina; her hair was black, and her skin soft and white. Even to this day, Thorn could not recall the color of her eyes, but she had the face of an angel.

Like a man in a trance, he gravitated toward her. As she came into his arms, he danced her across the room, discovering that she was a distant relation to the Burkes. They danced the rest of the evening, and later she walked with him in the garden. She had seemed shy and innocent, and that night he fell in love for the first time.

After that night, Thorn and Wilhelmina were together every day, and he was beginning to think of marriage and even children. Then one night they had walked in the garden, and she had allowed Thorn to kiss her. He remembered fearing he would frighten her with his unleashed passion.

How could he have known that Wilhelmina was not the innocent she pretended to be? That night she had taken his hand and led him to a distant part of the garden. With her breath coming out in short gasps and her eyes gleaming with desire, she lifted her gown and took his hand, placing it on her thigh.

He remembered being shocked by her boldness, but he had been too swept along by his desire to care. All he knew was that he had to have her.

She unfastened his trousers, and handled his throbbing manhood until he was almost mindless. She pulled him down to the ground, lifted her skirt, and straddled him. He slipped easily inside her, for she was no virgin, as he had thought…

Thorn balled his hands into fists. How little he had known about a woman’s deceitfulness at that time. He could still see the moonlight shining on Wilhelmina’s face, while her eyes were glazed and half-closed…

“Faster, faster,” she had breathed in his ear. “Go deeper. I want to feel all of you.”

Suddenly his passion had cooled, to be replaced with a feeling of repugnance. All he wanted was to get away from her. There was something base and wicked about Wilhelmina, he could feel it. He was not to know just how evil she was until a year later.

Wilhelmina had felt him withdrawing from her, and she protested. “What are you doing? You have not satisfied me yet. I thought you were a man, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

His pride was wounded, and his prowess challenged. “Perhaps I am not versed enough in the ways of the world to suit you,” he replied, moving her aside and standing up.

“I could teach you,” she purred. “You excite me as no man ever has.” She reached up and touched him intimately. “I could show you how to please me.”

He had helped her to her feet. “Yes, I daresay you could. But I’m just not interested.”

Her eyes took on a cruel glint. “I was under the impression you wanted to marry me; was I mistaken?”

He shook his head. “I do not believe we are right for one another.”

“I have told all my friends that we are to be married. Will you make a laughingstock of me?”

“I do not recall that we discussed marriage.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “You are angry because I have been with other men.” Her laughter rang out. “I have been with more men than you can count. You were such an innocent, you could not guess that I wanted you to make love to me that first night we met. You cannot know what torment I have been in, wanting you to make love to me.”

He tried to shake off his disgust. “Perhaps we should both forget that tonight happened. I know I intend to.”

“You men are all alike,” she whispered through stiff lips. “You blame a woman for doing what you do and call her a whore, while you are proud of your accomplishments with the very women you condemn.”

He stepped away from her, wanting to put some distance between them. “I do not think—”

She held up her hand to silence him. “No, men never do think.”

“I am sorry this had to happen,” he said, regretfully.

Suddenly she surprised him with a smile. “Do not reproach yourself, Thorn. I always get what I want in the end—you will see.”

She straightened her gown and patted her hair into place. “I was leaving for Savannah in the morning anyway, and this was to be my little going away gift to you.” Her eyes became hard and cold. “Can I assume you are a gentleman and will not mention what happened between us tonight?”

“Yes, you can assume that.”

Thorn was numb, but also relieved that she would be leaving Charleston. He hoped he would never have to see her again, but he had not reasoned with Wilhelmina’s strong drive for vengeance.

How could he guess that Wilhelmina would one day come back into his life. It was but one year from the day she left Charleston that she married Thorn’s father. It did not matter that she was twenty years younger than his father; all she cared about was getting even with Thorn.

Thorn’s world had been shattered the day his father brought Wilhelmina to Stoddard Hill as his wife. “I know you were fond of her at one time, Son. Now she will be your stepmother, and we will have her in our family.”

Thorn was sick inside, knowing that she was making a fool of his father. Wilhelmina knew that Thorn could never tell his father that his new bride was not the innocent she pretended to be.

As the weeks passed, Wilhelmina took pleasure in flaunting her indiscretions in Thorn’s face, as if daring him to tell his father. She was a brazen creature, but Thorn managed to avoid her whenever possible. And he made sure he never saw her without his father being present.

One night when his father had been away from home, Wilhelmina came to Thorn’s bedroom. In a cold voice, he ordered her to leave, but she merely laughed at him.

She slipped out of her dressing gown and stood naked before him. Anger burned inside him as she walked toward him slowly.

“I told you I always get what I want, Thorn. Are your dreams haunted by the thought of me lying in your father’s arms? Do you desire me?” she taunted.

He scooped up her dressing gown and threw it at her. “I am merely disgusted by you, Wilhelmina. Have you no feelings of regret for what you have done?”

Her eyes sparkled with the light of madness. “No, no regrets…save one. I still desire you.” She crept across the room, moving her hips sensuously, and his eyes fastened on her creamy breasts. He hated himself because she still sparked desire within his body.

“Get out,” he growled as she slid her arms about his neck.

It was at that moment that the bedroom door was torn open and Thorn looked up to see his father standing there. He would never forget the stricken look on his face.

He could still remember the anger in his father’s voice as he had accused him of seducing his innocent wife. Thorn had not told his father that Wilhelmina had come to his room, nor had he told him that she had been with every man at Stoddard Hill from the stable boy to the overseer. By his silence that night, Thorn had taken the blame for Wilhelmina.

His father had ordered him to leave Stoddard Hill that night, and Thorn had not been back since…

Sometimes, even now, if Thorn closed his eyes, he could smell the freshly harvested hay, and hear the wind in the pine trees outside his bedroom window at Stoddard Hill. He had been only twenty when he left his home. How foolish he had been to allow lies and pride to come between him and his father.

Lately, Thorn had been overcome with a strange loneliness. He wanted to gaze upon the land where he was born, the land where his mother had been buried. He had come to
realize that his real love was for the land. He was no longer content with a seafaring life.

Thorn had made up his mind that when the
Victorious
docked once more in Charleston Harbor, he was going home. His father might order him out of the house, but not before they cleared the air between them.

Brittany lay on the cushions that Achmed had arranged for her on the floor. Closing her eyes, she wished she was back home in her own bed at the palace. She missed her mother and ached for that which was familiar to her. She turned her face to watch the faithful Achmed, who was lying nearby, his eyes ever watchful in the event there should be any danger.

“Achmed, are you sure the sultan will not take revenge on Mama and Simijin?”

“The sultan may be a mad man, but he is not witless. He knows he would lose his head if he harmed Lord Simijin. The Janissaries, as well as the people of Constantinople, would rise up against him.”

“How long do you think I will have to stay away before I can return home?”

“I do not know, young mistress. When we get to America and we inform Lady Jillianna that you are safe, then she and Lord Simijin will inform us what to do.”

“Achmed?”

“Yes, little mistress.”

“Thank you for accompanying me. I do not know what I would do without you.”

“There is no place I would rather be, little mistress. Just know that you are safe while I am watching over you. Now, go to sleep, for nothing will harm you tonight.”

Strangely enough, Brittany did fall asleep. She was rocked by the gentle swaying of the
Victorious
as the vessel made its way to open sea.

The
Victorious
was a large frigate that had been in Thorn’s mother’s family for three generations. She had once been a warship and had seen many battles. Thorn’s uncle David, the previous captain, had joined the French Navy and quickly worked up to the rank of admiral. He had been a hero after sinking seven English ships.

After the end of the war, Admiral Stone had rebuilt the
Victorious
for peacetime, and made her a merchant ship. Her forecastle deck had been removed to add cargo space, and she was enlisted in trade.

Even so, the
Victorious
was still well equipped for combat. She had fourteen gun-ports on her main deck, and she supported three twenty-four-pounders, so if the need arose, she was able to do battle.

Thorn would always be grateful to his uncle David for helping him through a very difficult time and helping him regain his self-respect. After leaving Stoddard Hill, Thorn had gone with his uncle David on his next voyage to France, and he took readily to the sea.

Thorn had been devastated when his uncle died three years later. Having no sons of his own, David Stone had left a house in Charleston and the
Victorious
to Thorn, along with vast debts to pay, for David had lived a flamboyant life.

For the past seven years, Thorn had struggled to keep the ship afloat. Perhaps after this voyage, he would have enough money to pay off the last of his uncle’s debts, and he would have a clear title to the
Victorious.

It had been a long, hard struggle for Thorn to pay his uncle’s obligations; but he did it gladly, for he owed his uncle a debt that mere money could never repay.

Thorn Stoddard had learned well from Admiral David Stone. Now his ability as a captain was legendary, and any would-be enemies had always given the
Victorious
a wide lane.

Thorn stood on deck, keeping a trained eye on the heavy clouds gathering in the east. His instincts alerted him that
there would be a storm sometime after nightfall. He wanted to be out of the Golden Horn and on the Sea of Marmora before the storm hit, to lessen the danger of being blown aground.

Thorn glanced to his starboard side with little interest when the watch called down that three Turkish ships were closing in on the
Victorious.
The Golden Horn was the gateway to Constantinople; therefore, the lanes were always crowded with ships and he paid them little heed.

By midday, a heavy wind was blowing out of the north, churning up the waves which reached for the sky and splashed over the sides of the
Victorious.

That was when Thorn realized that the three Turkish ships were heading their way—two of them were man-of-wars, while the third was a thirty-six-gun frigate.

Because of the wind shift, Thorn changed directions, and it soon became apparent that the three ships also changed directions and were gaining on him.

The
Victorious
neared the end of the Golden Horn, where the Turkish shoreline loomed just ahead, and a heavily armed fortress was perched on the highest cliff. Thorn knew he must pass within range of the shore batteries to reach open sea. Training his spyglass on the vessel that was immediately behind him, he saw that she carried the banner of the Turkish Navy.

Again he changed directions and saw that the three ships did likewise.

Thorn was beginning to have the uneasy feeling that he was being pursued, though he could not think why. It was at that point that one of the vessels fired a cannon shot over the bow of the
Victorious
, confirming his suspicions.

Cappy had rushed on deck and stood beside Thorn, while the crew tensely waited for orders from their captain.

Thorn spoke to his first mate. “What in the hell is going on, Cappy? To my knowledge, we have done nothing to provoke the Turkish Navy.”

“I don’t know, Captain, but look—they are beginning to form a line of battle!”

It was true—the Turkish ships were sailing three abreast, and had been joined by a fourth, larger ship, a seventy-four gun man-of-war.

“If it’s to be a fight,” Cappy observed, “we are badly outnumbered, but we have the best gunners. Each man’s been trained by a master, and they all know their assignments. The Turkish Navy is notorious for their inferior gunners.”

Thorn’s face was grim as he stared straight ahead. “Even if they are inferior, with all their firepower they are likely to land a fortuitous shot. Our only hope is to make it into open water. There we have a chance—slim though it may be.”

Quickly Thorn signaled to have all sails set, gambling that the Turkish ships would not dare carry a full sail in the wind that was quickly becoming gale force.

In the belly of the ship, Brittany heard the sound of an explosion, and she looked at Achmed, her eyes wide with terror. “What was that? What can be happening?”

The black giant shook his head. “I do not know. It sounded like cannon fire. Stay hidden while I go topside and inquire into the matter.”

Brittany blinked her eyes and nodded. She was terrified to be left alone. She was in a hostile world which she did not understand, and she had no one to cling to except her steadfast Achmed.

Thorn saw the huge black man the moment he stepped onto deck. Turning to Cappy, the captain’s eyes snapped with anger. “What in the hell is going on, Mr. Hamish? What is that man doing on board the
Victorious
?”

“Sir, you were occupied with other matters when he came on board. I forgot to tell you about him. You will remember him. His name is Achmed, and he has booked passage for America.”

Thorn’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. I didn’t recognize him at first because of his plain garments. There can be no mistake he is the Grand Vizier’s servant.” Thorn looked past his
first mate to the oncoming warships. “It just might be that I know why we are being pursued by the Turkish Navy, Cappy. Did the man bring a woman on board with him, Cappy?”

“No, Captain. He was alone.”

Thorn glanced back to see the frigate gaining on him. He turned to the starboard so quickly, his top mast almost touched the plunging waves. “Something is not right here, Cappy. Unless I am mistaken, that eunuch smuggled a woman on board while you weren’t looking,” Thorn said grimly.

“Nay, Captain. All he brought was a leather satchel with his belongings and a large crate containing a gift to you from the Grand Vizier.”

Thorn’s blue eyes darkened, and he stared at his first mate in irritation. “Could the crate be large enough to hold a woman?”

Cappy looked bemused. “I…suppose so, but—Yes, it would have been a tight fit, but it would have been large enough.”

There was no time for Thorn to act on his suspicions, for at that moment, the Turkish frigate fired a succession of volleys which came dangerously close to hitting the
Victorious.
Thorn would need all his skills if he was to avoid disaster. Later, he would deal with the eunuch.

Cappy was feeling like a fool for his lack of perception. By allowing the eunuch to take passage on the
Victorious
, he had probably brought the whole of the Turkish Navy down on his captain’s head.

The captain yelled out his orders so as to be heard above the howling winds. A heavy gust caught the
Victorious
’s sails, and she was moving out of the Golden Horn and into the Sea of Marmora, but still the fortress loomed ahead.

Admiral Kainardji stood on deck of the Turkish frigate, believing he had his prey caught between him and the shore batteries. What he did not realize was that his prey did not know the word “defeat.”

Thorn realized he could not outdistance the Turkish vessels since he was running with a full cargo which was slowing
him down. He could only hope to outmaneuver the enemy—a slim chance, but his only one.

Hope sprung to life within the crew of the American ship when they watched the command frigate leave her sister ships behind in her pursuit of the
Victorious.
This gave their captain the chance to pit all his skills against the one ship, instead of four. The crew felt Captain Stoddard was worth any dozen Turks when it came to matching of wits.

The crew was startled when their captain maneuvered close to shore, ordered them to let down the canvases, and then turned to the lee side.

“If the enemy follows true to form,” he called out to Cappy, “they will swing into the wind. And when they do, they will be vulnerable to our cannons,” Thorn shouted to be heard against the wailing wind. “This will be our chance to do the most damage. Have the guns primed and ready to fire as she passes.”

Just as Thorn had predicted, the frigate turned sharply, and when she did, he gave the signal to fire.

Seven cannons spit fire, hitting their target and fatally damaging her hull. The enemy ship found ered, and her gunports had not fired but were open and taking in water from the rough sea. Thorn ordered a broadside that ripped the enemy ship open from the wind and water.

A loud cheer went up from the crew of the
Victorious.
They had taken first victory, for one enemy ship was badly crippled. Of course, there was always the danger that she might still use her guns, so they could not yet claim victory—and now the other three ships were bearing down on them. But the
Victorious
had struck so quickly it had left the enemy dazed and unprepared.

Thorn Stoddard’s code of honor and bravery compelled his crew to fight beside him. Even against impossible odds, it never occurred to them that he would not win. As the day progressed, and with each successful encounter, their belief in their captain’s ability intensified.

While the crew of the
Victorious
cheered, their captain
turned the ship and brought her alongside the enemy, passing so closely that their riggings touched.

Thorn then ordered another firing of cannon, and the enemy frigate exploded into splinters.

Turning the
Victorious
to catch the wind, Thorn knew they still faced insurmountable odds that had only been lessened by one. There were still the fortress guns and the other three ships to deal with.

Going with the wind behind him, Thorn noticed that the enemy ships had piled on more canvas. No, his troubles were not over; they had just begun.

“Hoist the signal to prepare for action,” Thorn ordered. “Reload and make ready all cannon!”

Thorn concluded that he had only two choices. He could either try to outdistance the enemy by dumping his cargo overboard, or he could try for a fight.

By now the sky was dark and a heavy rain had begun to fall.

Thorn saw that the enemy had turned and was headed for shore, where a heavy barrage of cannon fire from the cliff stronghold spit out a continuous bombardment.

Cappy seemed to read his captain’s mind. “They have the supremacy of numbers, but we have the skill. Do we fight or run, Captain?”

“We fight,” Thorn stated with conviction. “Because we are of a lesser strength, we shall have to hit—sail away—and hit again. We will bother them with the per sis tence of a stinging wasp. We shall wound the enemy little by little, until he bleeds. Then we shall finish him off. Pray he does not send for reinforcements.”

“But we don’t know these waters, and the storm will not be in our favor. It looks like the Turks have decided to anchor and ride the storm out. Should we not take our advantage and flee?”

“Not at all, Cappy. If the enemy can anchor, so shall we.” Thorn’s eyes brightened with the challenge of battle. “Or…we could make them think we have anchored.”

Cappy’s eyes sparkled. “So, we are to fool them into thinking the storm deterred our movements?”

“It seems to be to the likely thing to do under the circumstances.”

Thorn motioned for his first mate to take the wheel while he adjusted his spyglass so he could study the enemy. His jaw locked in a grim line, and he slammed the spyglass against his palm. “Damn, they have raised the Blood Flag, signifying that there will be no quarter.”

“Whatever have we done to provoke such action, Captain?”

“Past sinking their frigate, I can only guess. I would wager we have that woman the sultan is looking for on board, and apparently the Turks are willing to go to great lengths to get her back.”

“But, Captain, to offer no quarter and no mercy when our two countries are not at war—this is barbaric.”

“They don’t seem to be as concerned about that as you are. Inform the men that we must fight, because surrender is not a possibility for us. We must win or die trying. Tell them of the gravity of our situation, and warn them what will happen if we should be taken.”

Brittany buried her face in her hands as her body trembled with fear.

Achmed tried to soothe her anxiety with words of optimism. “I talked with one of the crewmen, and he told me that Captain Stoddard’s courage is legendary, and it is said that he is a tactical genius. He enjoys danger and scoffs at death. I have never seen such devotion in a ship’s crew.”