Forgotten Fragrance (21 page)

Bristol shipped the oars and splashed through the water to join Catz on the shore.

‘Out you get.' Henk's jovial tone made her clench her fists. He might as well have been conducting them to the stand with the toffs at the Hobart Cup, not depositing them on some godforsaken beach in the middle of nowhere.

‘Where are we going?'

Henk's pistol butt grazed her chest in answer and with a loud sigh she clambered to her feet. Her belligerence was pointless but doing nothing disgusted her. Within seconds all the girls stood and the boat rocked and threatened to overturn. The satisfaction of seeing Henk lurch and almost topple was her reward. They clambered out and paddled through the shallows into the muscled arms of Catz and Bristol.

‘Capt'n! Capt'n!'

Christian shot to his feet. Cookie's frantic cries coupled with the smack of the mallet against the wedges sent him up the ladder to the hatch.

‘Open up, Cookie. What's the problem?'

‘I'm trying, Capt'n. I'm trying. You gotta come quick. Very quick.'

Christian ducked his head and put his shoulder to the hatch. He gave an almighty shove ignoring the pain and the hatch splintered to reveal Cookie spread-eagled on the deck.

‘Get up off your arse, Cookie. What's wrong?'

‘That bloody shit-faced Dutchman. He's taken ‘em.'

Christian eased himself out of the hold and looked down at the dishevelled figure. ‘Right. He's taken the blackbirds.'

‘Miss Charlotte, too.' Cookie heaved himself up and peered over the deck rail, pointing into the inky blackness. ‘He can't. Not ‘er. Not Miss Charlotte.'

Grabbing the little man Christian held him steady. ‘Pull yourself together.' The stone lodged deep in the pit of his stomach flipped over. ‘Taken her where, Cookie?'

‘Taken her ashore with the blackbirds.'

Cookie's words began to make sense and Henk's intentions became clear. Not only would he sell the blackbirds, he'd get a tidy bonus for pretty, young white girl, too. Or so Henk would think. The all-pervading silence cast an unnatural mantle of calm over the ship.

‘Who's gone, Cookie?'

‘I told you. The blackbirds and Miss Charlotte.'

‘Yes, but who else? Who's still aboard?'

‘Henk took Catz and Bristol and left Jinks, Windy and me as ship-keepers.

‘How long ago did they leave? We dropped anchor hours ago.' Below decks in the darkness all sense of time telescoped — Christian had no idea how many hours had passed.

‘Left just after the sunset.'

‘And it's taken you this bloody long to get me out of the hold.' Christian bunched his fist, resisting the impulse to knock the living daylights out of the idiotic, good-for-nothing cook. ‘What took you so long?' As he spoke the penny dropped: Cookie and his bloody divided loyalties. ‘So are you with me or with Henk? And what about Windy and Jinks?

‘We're with you, Capt'n, only it's taken us a bit too long to make up our minds.' Cookie gazed sheepishly down at the oiled timber of the deck and shuffled his bare feet.

‘Right, at last. Give me a hand to lower the other boat.' Christian headed to the second whaleboat swinging on the davits. ‘Where's Windy and Jinks?'

‘Here, Capt'n.'

He swept around at the sound of their voices. ‘Suppose you've been here all along, watching and waiting to see how Cookie fared, hey?' The two boys ducked their heads. Too busy untying the boat Christian paid no attention to them. The longer he took to get ashore the less likely he would be to catch up with Henk before he handed the girls, and Charlotte, over to The Whaleman's Rest. ‘Cookie. Get into my cabin. There are two guns in the sea chest and a couple of decent knives. Come on, Jinks. Put your back into it, boy.'

Cookie took off at a shuffling run then stopped. ‘Sea chest's locked.'

‘Well, break the bloody thing open,' Christian shouted over his shoulder as he and Jinks swung the whaleboat free of the deck and lowered it into the oily black water.

‘Right now I want you and Cookie to come with me,' he said tousling the boy's hair, ‘and we'll leave Windy here to sit watch.'

‘What about Mr Wainwright, sir?' Windy's blackcurrant eyes flashed in the lamplight.

Marcus, bloody Marcus
.

In his hurry to get to Charlotte, he'd forgotten all about Marcus.

‘Good man.' Christian winked at the boy. ‘Where is he?' The tiniest praise from Jonas had meant the world to him, now he repaid the favour.

‘In the cabin sleepin' it off,' Windy said. ‘He's not too good with his liquor. Makes a bloody fool of himself.'

Man's a bloody fool before he's even taken a drop
.

Christian kept his thoughts to himself. If it hadn't been for Marcus' encouragement Henk might have thought twice about his plans. If — no, not
if
, he wasn't going to fail her twice —
when
Charlotte was back on board he would make damn certain the man did the right thing by her.

‘Cor, look who I found sleepin' in your bed, Capt'n.' Cookie approached pushing a shambolic and dazed Marcus in front of him. His face crumpled as he set eyes on Christian and he stopped stock-still — until Cookie encouraged him with a prod in the back from an ancient gun. ‘Thought we might be better orf taking him with us, Capt'n. Don't want to leave him here to get up to any more mischief.'

Christian sighed. The last thing he wanted was to drag the half-witted fool along with them, but Cookie was right. If he left Windy alone on board the
Zephyrus
he didn't need Marcus' interference. ‘Right. Did you get all the weapons, Cookie?'

‘Yep. Two of these.' He gave Marcus a final prod in the back with one of the guns.

‘I must protest this treatment,' Marcus said.

‘Protest all you like, matey.' Cookie gave Marcus another prod then chucked one of the guns to Christian. ‘You ain't got no choice,
Mr
Wainwright.'

Marcus pulled himself up to his full height. ‘Where is the captain?'

‘Right here.' Cookie waved a generous arm in Christian's direction.

‘I mean Henk. Henk's the captain.'

‘Possession is, I believe, nine-tenths of the law, Wainwright, and right now I am in possession of the
Zephyrus.
You're coming with us,' Christian said. ‘Get in the boat.'

‘But, but I'm in need of my coat, and my watch.'

‘Coat be damned. Get in the boat. Jinks!'

In response to Christian's words Jinks scooted down the rope ladder into the bobbing whaleboat.

‘Your turn, Wainwright.' Christian flicked his gun at the deck rail.

Huffing and puffing Marcus lowered himself onto the ladder and scrambled down.

‘Right, Windy?'

‘Be fine, Capt'n. You can leave the
Zephyrus
to me.' The note of high-pitched pride in Windy's voice brought a smile to Christian's face.

‘And stay out of me grog,' Cookie shouted as he slipped down the ladder into the boat.

‘I'm counting on you, Windy,' Christian reminded the boy with a grin as he jumped into the darkness.

Windy's face appeared over the deck rail and after Christian's nod he cast the boat free. Christian settled next to Jinks and between them they made short work of the pull across Twofold Bay.

Charlotte waded through the shallows attempting to keep her dripping skirt above the waves. As the water swirled around her ankles she lost her balance in the coarse sand and staggered.

‘Get a move on, you slag.' Henk rammed his pistol into her back.

‘Leave me be and I will.' She spat the words back at him. Her initial thoughts of making a break when they reached the beach disappeared the moment Catz produced the frayed length of rope and shackled the girls together. Much to her surprise he hadn't roped her. Instead, Henk kept her in front of him, his pistol mere inches from her back. The poor convict who'd made a run for it on the wharf at Port Albert had been gunned down. What use would she be to the girls dead? Better to put up with Henk's bloody-mindedness and wait until they were closer to the town before she made any attempt to run.

The wet sand gave way to the fine, dry dunes fringing the beach and Charlotte scrambled up, keen to get inland. Finding someone in authority and reporting Henk might put an end to his plans.

Ahead of her Mina calmed the girls and encouraged them onwards to the single light breaking the darkness. It swayed three times and disappeared.

‘Up over there, did you see the light?' Catz said as he hurried the girls along.

‘That'll be old Tom. We're to take ‘em to the wool store. I'll have a word with him about this one.' Henk gave Charlotte another prod in the kidneys. ‘Then get the money and we're out of here.'

‘Are we still going to call in at the wharf?' Catz flashed a look at Henk and then at Charlotte.

‘Tomorrow morning. No point in sailing to Sydney with an empty hold. We'll let the God-botherer spend his money on any cargo he can pick up and we'll be off quick smart.'

‘Marcus won't leave without me,' Charlotte said. In truth, she had no idea whether Marcus would or wouldn't leave without her, his strange behaviour since they'd boarded the
Zephyrus
had her completely flummoxed. One moment he was the well-dressed Hobart Town philanthropist who'd saved her from the horrors of her sentence and the next a crazed and demented braggart. The thought of marrying the man terrified her; even if it meant serving the remainder of her time imprisoned she wouldn't do it. No chance. She'd rather be sold to The Whaleman's Rest. To think she'd once considered his proposal sickened her. And now there was Christian. The memory of his touch brought a twist to her belly.

‘Marcus'll do what's best for himself.' Henk's words eerily echoed Charlotte's tumbling thoughts. ‘If he thinks he can make a quid then that's what he'll do. I wouldn't bank on him coming charging to your rescue.'

There wasn't a lot she and Henk saw eye to eye about, however this time he'd got it right.

The moon rose above the trees and ahead Charlotte picked out a cluster of slate-roofed buildings, brick cottages and outhouses flanked by a larger building, all overshadowed by a sharply peaked mountain.

Henk lifted his hand and halted the bedraggled group beneath the spreading branches of a large conifer tree. The lamp flashed three more times. ‘Almost there. Get those bitches movin', Catz.' Henk prodded Charlotte in the back. ‘This is taking far too long.'

In a matter of moments Henk hustled them all inside a massive three-storey sandstone building. The air hung heavy with an all-pervading stink of grease. It filled the air and trapped Charlotte's breath. Great square wool bales stood stacked around the lower storey and sheepskins and hides hung from the bearers and joists.

She squinted in the bright lamplight as it flickered and threw distorted shadows around the cavernous space. A squeal of horror came from the girls when Bristol and Catz dragged them away into a darker recess of the building. The lamp carried by a giant of a man shone directly in her face, warping his features and lending a ghostly hue to his misshapen face. She shrank back towards Henk, his familiar bulk preferable to the steely gaze of the stranger who appraised her.

‘Got a present for me, Henk?'

‘Maybe. What's she worth?'

The man sniffed as Henk pushed her forward. ‘Not bad. Not exactly what I had in mind.' The man tossed his head in the direction of the retreating girls. ‘Those are what I was expecting.'

‘This is a bit extra. Something nice to keep you warm.'

‘Where did you get her from?'

‘She ended up aboard ship and I don't hold with no hen frigates.'

Charlotte squirmed as they discussed her like one of the sacks of potatoes in the hold.

‘You weren't opposed to bringing the blackbirds. What's your problem?'

‘Like I said, I didn't want her aboard my ship.'

‘Your ship? I don't want her. Sounds like trouble.'

‘I might just have her meself first.' Henk grasped Charlotte's arm and pulled her closer. ‘You got the money?'

‘I've got your money, Henk. Don't you worry.' The giant tossed Henk a small leather drawstring pouch. Coins clanked as it flew through the air.

Such a small bag for so much heartbreak
.
Was it all these lives were worth?

‘Bugger off now, Henk. I want you and your mates out of here quick smart. Leave the blackbirds in the cage down the back and I'll be back to sort ‘em out.' The man turned on his heel and made for the rear of the room, taking the lamp with him. Henk shoved his pistol in his belt and weighed the bag in one hand and then the other. With a look of grim delight he opened it and emptied the coins into his hand.

Concentration lined his face as he tried to count the proceeds; his hands shook with excitement, his gun forgotten, tucked in his belt covered by the voluminous folds of his patched shirt. Her last and only chance. There'd be no help from the man who had given Henk the money. He was in it with Henk up to his ears, but the other buildings she'd seen as they approached the wool store — there had to be someone she could turn to.

Without further thought Charlotte spun around, lifted her skirts high and bolted for the doorway.

Henk's cry of outrage merged with the clatter of coins as they hit the flagstones. ‘Catz! Bristol! Where the bloody hell are you?'

She risked a quick glance at Henk as he stuffed the coins and leather pouch into his pockets then she sprinted through the door and flew to her left and around the corner of the building. She flattened her back against the solid wall finding it oddly reassuring. With her lips pressed together she held her breath, waiting, the blood thundering in her ears blocking out all sound. If she were lucky Henk would take off into the darkness thinking she'd gone back to the boat; then she'd double back around the building and find Mina and the girls.