Rogue of the High Seas (24 page)

“But I checked the docks as well,” Robert said.

“They might have had a small boat tucked away somewhere and taken her to a ship berthed elsewhere,” Abigail replied.

“Ships have crews. Wouldn't someone question an unconscious or struggling woman being brought on board?” Mr. Frazier asked.

Robert grimaced. “I was duped into accepting Fiona on the
New Orleans
. Alton can be quite convincing with his lies.”

“And not all ship captains are scrupulous,” Shane added. “Depending on how much coin is offered, some doona ask questions.”

“But where would a ship be waiting?”

“Berwick,” Albert said.

Heads turned to look at him. “Berwick?” Robert asked.

“Maybe 'tis nae docked there, but ye remember the two men who escaped after trying to board Shane's ships? 'Tis possible they lurked here. And there were rumors of a ship with no flag running off the shores at Berwick point also.”

“Aye, the reports were the name was
Dragon,”
Shane answered, “but no one has seen her lately.”

“What was the name?” Colette asked, her face going pale.

Shane gave her a sharp look. “The
Dragon
. Why?”

She picked up her sketching case, pushed back the cover and started thumbing through it. She pulled one sheet out. “Something like this?”

Silence fell as everyone looked at the picture of a small brig at anchor in a cove. Colette had captured it from the stern with the name clearly visible.

“That is excellent work,” Owen said, moving closer to where Colette sat. “I had no idea you were so talented.”

“
Merci, Je
—”

“Where and when did you do this?” Shane interrupted.

“Last week, while I was waiting for you to return,” Colette answered. “Papa and I were out driving—”

“Where?” Ian asked.

“Not far. Just past Leith.”

Robert cursed silently. To think the brig was so close to where the
New Orleans
was dry-docked… He hadn't thought to start searching coves.

“She's small,” Ian observed. “Probably less than forty feet.”

“Aye, but big enough to handle the Channel,” Shane answered.

“But where would they take her?” Colette asked.

“My guess is France,” Shane replied. “'Tis Alton's native country. He could simply disappear with Shauna.”

“Or they might have gone to London,” Ian said. “'Tis opportunity to disappear there as well.”

“I will take the
Border Lass
to Calais at first light,” Shane said. “I've friends there who are skilled in ferreting out information. They can scour the countryside and I'll go on to Le Havre.” He turned to Ian. “Ye and Donald take the
Sea Lassie
and check the English coastline. We will meet in London.”

“I will ride to London to alert Jamie,” Owen said. “I can get there quicker on horseback and I have business to attend to as well.”

“Aye,” Ian agreed. “The sooner we have everyone looking, the sooner we find Shauna.” He clenched both fists. “And we will find her.”

“And I will sail directly to Spain so Shane can thoroughly search the French coast.” Robert said and then silently cursed again. His ship still needed to be launched. “I just need one day to get the
New Orleans
back in the water.”

“'Tis a plan then,” Shane said.

It was a plan. Robert just hoped it would work.

The night had dragged on endlessly for Robert. He'd helped Ian and Shane provision their boats and stacked his own supplies in the foyer of the townhouse to be taken to Leith. The place finally quieted down well after midnight, but Robert got little sleep. Shauna was in danger, and each minute of inaction took her farther away. He just wished they had something definite to go on about where she was rather than just educated guesses.

Dawn finally broke, and with it, the departure of the
Border Lass
and
Sea Lassie
. Shane looked haggard and torn when he left, even though Abigail assured him she would be fine. He'd also ordered the three footmen to be armed at all times and not to let his wife out of their sight. Abigail had rolled her eyes at that, but for the first time, Robert knew how a man felt when he loved a woman and didn't want to leave her. His epiphany at Glenfinnan had made him realize that love was what mattered. He already felt Shauna belonged at his side. When a man loved a woman, he would do anything—sacrifice anything—to keep her safe.

Completing the launch of the
New Orleans
took longer than he liked, but Robert knew it was foolhardy not to inspect every repair for proper sealing once the boat was in the water. He didn't want to waste precious time on a trial run, but he'd been a captain long enough not to run the risk of having a bilge fill up with water while underway. Even though every muscle in his body screamed to set sail, he needed to let the boat sit in the water for several hours to make sure no water seeped into the compartment.

If he returned to the townhouse to wait, all he'd do is pace like a caged animal, so Robert decided he'd visit the charitable home one last time to find out if Mrs. Tate had heard anything more. Probably a futile effort, but it gave him something to do besides wear out Abigail's carpet.

Mrs. Tate looked surprised to see him. She shook her head when he asked if she'd heard anything from Mr. Adler or Neal Austin. Not that Robert had expected any news, but he wanted to tie up every loose end.

“Do you mind if I question some of the residents again?” he asked.

“Suit yourself,” Mrs. Tate answered. “With breakfast over, most of them will be in the day room.”

Robert made his way across the foyer. In addition to Mr. James dozing by the door and Mrs. Ramsey—who assured Robert she'd spoken to her husband about the incident—there were several others Robert had not seen before. When he questioned them though, none of them could recall Mr. Adler ever mentioning where he was from.

With a sigh, Robert looked around the room once more and then moved toward the door. What else could he expect? If Alton had plotted to abduct Shauna and arranged to be admitted here to do just that, he'd hardly be stupid enough to give any background information about himself. From everything the MacLeods had said, Wesley Alton might be deranged, but he was not stupid.

Robert nearly tripped over Mr. James's feet, just managing to catch himself before he knocked the man out of his chair, but the jolt was enough to waken him. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”

“Eh?” Mr. James peered up at him. “Who are ye?”

“Robert Henderson. I'm sorry to have awakened you.”

“Pish.” Mr. James waved his hand. “I just pretend to be asleep sometimes.” He winked. “No one bothers me then.”

Robert hesitated and then crouched down beside the chair. “Do you know Shauna MacLeod? She comes here to visit sometimes.”

“Aye.” He smiled. “Sweet child. Always a kind word for everyone.”

Shauna was definitely a grown woman in Robert's eyes, but he hadn't come here to argue semantics. “Do you remember Willis Adler?”

The old man stopped smiling. “Aye. Dinna trust him.”

“Why not?”

“Sly, that one was. Him and that son of his. Giving themselves airs and talking bad about the folks here.”

A tiny ray of hope began to stir in Robert's head. “Did you ever hear them talk about Shauna?”

Mr. James frowned. “I am nae sure.”

“Try to remember. It's important. Shauna has disappeared, and I think Adler had something to do with it.”

“I am nae sure,” he said again. “Sometimes when I rest me eyes, I might doze a bit, ye ken.”

Robert felt the ray of hope peter out. So the old man really did sleep most of the time. He should not have gotten his expectations up. Robert stood and turned toward the door. “Well, thank you for your time.”

“Wait. I…”

Robert turned back. “Yes? Do you remember something?”

Mr. James looked confused. “I…well, once I thought I was dreaming…”

Robert crouched back down. “Go on. Anything might help.”

“The two of them were sitting over by that table.” He gestured. “That sweet girl had just left and they started laughing.”

“Laughing? Why?”

“Something about tricking her.”

Embers of hope began to kindle again. “How were they going to do that?”

“It dinnae make sense. Something about carriage rides and ships and selling her to a sultan.” Mr. James shook his head. “We doona have sultans here. I think I must have been dreaming that part.”

The old man hadn't dreamt it at all. Cold dread washed over Robert as he stood once more. Things were falling into place. The rumor regarding the pirate ship. Finding the
Dragon
in the cove. Robert recalled Mr. Frazier talking about Barbary pirates near Gibraltar and how no woman was safe aboard a ship near there because of the sex trade.

The bastards had Shauna, and now Robert knew where they were taking her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“What is it? What's wrong?” Abigail asked as Robert burst into the townhouse minutes later. She followed him to the library. “Did Shane or Ian return?”

“No. I just wish they'd waited,” Robert replied. “Has Owen left for London?”

“Yes, shortly after you went to Leith.”

“Damn. I wish he'd waited too.”

“Why? Tell me what's wrong.”

Robert hesitated, thinking how to soften the blow. There really wasn't a way he could think of, so he told her what he'd learned at the charitable home.

“Oh, my God.” Abigail sank into one of the chairs by the hearth. “I…I have read about Constantinople—and about harems. Oh, my God.”

Robert glanced at her as he gathered some charts. Her face had paled and he felt like kicking himself for being so blunt. She didn't need to be shocked in her condition. “Try not to worry. There's every chance Shane and Ian will catch up to the
Dragon
before they even get to the Med.”

Abigail shook her head. “They'll be looking in all the wrong places.”

“Maybe not. The
Dragon
may put in to port somewhere.” Robert seriously doubted that, and the words sounded hollow to him, but he needed to try and reassure Abigail.

“They had a good three or four days' head start,” she said.

That was the first thing that had come to Robert's mind as well, but he wished Abigail weren't quite so quick to pick up on it. “Shane is familiar with the Channel and the
Border Lass
and
Sea Lassie
are fast ships.”

“The
Dragon
is small, so she'll be quick,” Abigail answered.

As much as Robert admired intelligent women, for once he wished the one sitting in the chair were a little less astute.

“I am going to send Johnny after Owen,” Abigail said. “Jamie needs to know so he can sail to Gibraltar.”

“Shane wants all three footmen guarding you,” Robert replied.

“Fiddle. I do not need three men hovering around me.”

Robert didn't want to make a bad situation worse, but Shane would be mad as hell if Johnny went to London. “Johnny needs to stay here. He's the best swordsman of the three. We don't know where Wesley Alton and his son are. We don't think they are on the
Dragon
since we saw them at the home the day of the abduction and we're assuming the ship sailed immediately. They could still be lurking about.”

Abigail gave him a look as though he were daft. “Would you stay around?”

“A sane man wouldn't.” Robert replied. “But from all accounts, Wesley Alton is mad.”

“Well, someone has to go.”

For a startled moment, Robert thought Abigail was thinking of going herself. Shane would kill him if he let that happen. “Send David then. Albert is not going to need him with both the ships gone.”

“That is true. I will send word to him immediately.” Abigail got up and came over to Robert and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Please, bring Shauna back.”

“I will. You can count on that,” Robert said and gathered up the chart of Spain that he'd left spread out on the table. He put the coins keeping the map flat into his pocket and reached for the stone the child had given him, but it rolled across the map. As it stopped, the golden streak shimmered at him. A faerie stone the little girl had said.
“It will take ye where ye need to be.”

Robert looked at where the stone had landed. He picked it up, noting how warm it felt in his hand. Hope flared into a fiery flame as Robert rolled up the chart. He knew where he had to go.

The stone had stopped on the rock of Gibraltar.

She was going to go stark raving mad if she weren't allowed out of the tiny cabin that felt more restrictive with each day they were in port. Shauna had lost count of the times she'd made herself dizzy trying to pace four steps forward and four steps back.

For that matter, she'd lost track of time as well. With no light except for a small oil lamp, she wasn't sure if it was night or day. Nasim brought her swill twice a day, which she thought was laced with laudanum since she always felt drowsy afterwards. Shauna didn't want to take it. She'd asked Nasim if she could have some bread, thinking she could put the swill in the chamber pot, but he told her porridge was all she was allowed. She'd tried eating only half of it so her brain wouldn't feel so foggy, but returning a portion had only made Richard increase the dosage, which caused strange dreams that made no sense and left her feeling anxious when she awoke.

If she didn't eat, she'd starve to death. Besides, she needed strength to use her knife if the opportunity arose so she could escape. Not that there was much chance of that. Two additional guards had been assigned to her door and Richard wouldn't allow her even to step on to the gangway. Not that he had put in an appearance since the first day. Shauna asked Nasim if she could speak to Richard, but he had just shaken his head. She still didn't know why Mr. Adler or his sons would want to abduct her. She'd gone over everything that had happened many times with no answer, but she was sure of one thing.

Shauna hoped Richard would rot in hell.

She sank back down on the cot. Dear God, what would happen to her if she couldn't escape? She'd heard Shane talk often enough about the Barbary Coast pirates who sailed north to lurk near the Straits of Gibraltar, ready to attack any unarmed or unsuspecting vessel. It was one reason Shane didn't trade with the Middle East. He said profit wasn't worth risking his crew.

But perhaps pirates were the least of her worries. If she were delivered to a sultan in Constantinople, she'd become a slave—and not just the kind who fetched food and water for her master. Shauna suppressed a shudder. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't been so interested in reading about travel to faraway places. Then she wouldn't know what awaited her.

Unfortunately, she'd always been inquisitive. Ian had a well-maintained library, but Shane's was even more impressive. He'd had a number of books regarding the Crusades and the routes through different countries to get to the Holy Land. When she'd first started reading them, she'd had no idea Shane belonged to a secret order of Templars still in existence. She'd just thought those foreign places exotic and exciting—the men with their turbans and long, flowing robes, the dark-eyed women wrapped in veils and the bazaars with their unusual spices and precious oils. Abigail had thought so too and dug through her art books to find sketches. Shauna remembered them giggling—partly from shock and partly from intrigue—at barely clad women with exposed midriffs and bosoms feeding grapes and dates to a near naked man reclining on a chaise. The picture had been titled
Harem.
Shauna and Abigail had whispered about what happened after the man had been fed…

Dear God, she couldn't be part of that. Somehow, she had to escape.

The sounds of hammering and feet pounding on the deck had abated, so Shauna was pretty sure night had come. How often had there been noise and then silence? Three times maybe? Had three days gone by?

It seemed an eternity, and yet Shauna knew she should be grateful. Shane would be searching for her by now, although how he would know where to begin, she couldn't fathom. But she could hope. Since she thought they were still in England, every day that passed might bring Shane closer to finding her. Maybe Robert would search too…

Shauna closed her eyes to keep tears from spilling out. Robert. She knew he was betrothed, yet she still wanted him. She knew it was wrong—maybe even wicked—to feel so strongly for a man she couldn't have, yet her nipples beaded when she recalled how close their bodies had been. Her insides went to mush every time she thought of Robert kissing her hand and then turning it over to lave her palm. The velvet softness of his tongue had caused warm wetness to form between her legs that day. Every fiber of her being wanted to reach out to mesh with his. Shauna had never known lust before, but she recognized her body's response. She
ached
for him.

Still, it wasn't just physical. His eyes had smoldered like emerald fire that inflamed her soul. She'd felt a connection to him as though pulled by an invisible thread. Robert might not be hers to have, but as she lay down on the cot and hugged the pillow to herself, she drifted off dreaming of him.

Robert stood by the helm, watching the sluggish movement of his ship through the water. If he clenched his jaw any tighter, he was bound to break a tooth. He loosened the death grip he had on the helm since the
New Orleans
was scarcely moving forward. Since his own crew had taken passage to the States months ago, he'd had to rely on hiring those who were available on the wharf. Word had spread quickly along the waterfront that Shauna had been abducted. Two captains had been able to lend one able-bodied seaman each to the search, and Mr. Frazier had offered his quartermaster, Peter, but most of the ships were preparing for spring sails and needed their own crews. Even with trained men, it usually took several days for them to come together and function as a team. Unfortunately, Robert had to rely on line-handlers who were not well-experienced working sails. It had taken more than an hour to get away from the docks and into the open Firth, and now the wind had shifted. What would normally be an easy beam reach with smooth sailing making good time now meant tacking back and forth to gain headway. And Robert didn't know how far ahead of him the
Dragon
had gotten.

“Would ye allow me to take the helm, Captain?” Peter asked as he came to stand beside Robert. “I ken these waters, and I've a feeling ye would rather be training those hapless lads handling the sheets.”

Peter probably had near a score of years' experience on ships, and he was right. The two experienced men had their hands full with the big sails, and while Peter could have taken over training, Robert always felt that the captain should do it. Showing the crew he knew what he was doing created a certain amount of respect, and respect was crucial on aboard a ship. Peter seemed to know it too, which wasn't surprising since Shane had recommended him to Frazier. Robert nodded and stepped back. “Good idea. We don't want them tangling themselves up.”

Peter grinned. “Or flying overboard.”

Robert spent the next three hours straightening sheets and showing his newly acquired sailors how to coordinate using the jib sails while keeping an eye on the two men handling the main and fore sails. By the time the
New Orleans
rounded Berwick Point and turned south-east, he was fairly confident there wouldn't be any gross mishandling. Not that he had much choice. He was just thankful a schooner was a lot faster under sail than a brig.

The physical activity had helped lessen his tension, but not by much. If he couldn't catch up to the
Dragon
by the time she reached Gibraltar and Shauna was transferred to a pirate's corsair, the rescue would become much more hazardous. If Colette's sketch was accurate, the brig carried no visible guns and a corsair would certainly be well-armed. The
New Orleans
had a small cannon on her bow, but Robert had not had time to secure dry gun powder. Given that misfortune, battling pirates at sea would be risky, but if Shauna arrived in Constantinople, the results could be disastrous, especially if the sultan had already taken possession.

That women were considered property to be bought and sold in these foreign cultures angered Robert as much as slavery did in the States, but now that Shauna might become chattel, he felt enraged. Even if he were able to arrange a meeting with the sultan—assuming he could find the man—and offer to buy her back, he had no horde of gold with him. While a man of greed might agree for money to be delivered, Robert very much doubted such a man would keep from deflowering a virgin while he waited.

The only answer was to find the
Dragon
before she reached Gibraltar.

On the morning—at least she thought it was morning—of the fifth day, Shauna finally felt the ship begin to move. Her heart sank as the boat heeled and she could feel the ship lurch forward as wind filled the sails. Her hopes of being rescued in England had just ended.

Sometime later, she heard the key turn in the lock and looked over, expecting to see Nasim with her porridge. Instead, Richard stood in the doorway with a bowl in his hand. Shauna's fingers itched to slide her
sgian dubh
from its sheath and lunge for him, but what good would it do? Even if she managed to slice his throat, there were still guards, and they were now well out to sea. Better to bide her time.

“What do you want?”

“Well, that sounds somewhat rude,” Richard replied. “I thought you might want to come up on deck and watch your native land disappearing behind you.”

She felt herself brighten. Getting out on deck. “Yes, I—”

“You will have to eat your food first, like a good girl,” Richard said as he placed the bowl on the shelf.

He had probably put in an extra dose of laudanum so she wouldn't act up on deck, but at the moment, she didn't care. Just to be able to breathe fresh air and feel wind on her face. Hastily, she ate half. “There. I am done.”

“No, no. You will have to finish all of it.”

Shauna bit back a retort. She was already beginning to feel woozy from the drug. By the time she finished the porridge, she'd barely be able to stand.

She was right. Several minutes later, the guards practically had to carry her up the ladder to the deck. She caught a glimpse of Nasim's surprised look before he frowned and turned away. Shauna clung to the rail, praying she would not be ill.

A man dressed in loose pants tied at the ankle and a flowing-sleeved shirt with embroidered vest approached them. “She looks sickly. I won't be able to get a good price for her in that condition.”