Close to the Wind Page 5

  She did not fall asleep at once, however. Memories of the day crowded in and she was overwhelmed by overlapping images of decking and sails and ropes and sailors and barrels and buckets. A new world looped within a perfectly circular horizon, under the command of an autocratic captain whose smile could stop her breath. An almost forgotten emotion nudged at her and when she examined it, she realised it was, astonishingly and contrary to all evidence, hope. With a sigh, she stretched out long, clasped her griffin and fell asleep.

  Chapter Five

  Over the next few days Georgiana fell into the rhythms of shipboard life. She discovered that she loved sailing, loved the motion under her feet, the dome of sky and the endless stretches of ocean. Sometimes she threw her head back and drew in great breaths as though to rid her lungs of the last of the stifling air of Ashton Hall.

  The underlying fear she’d betray herself was slipping away as daily she became more confident in her masquerade. Her use of the very unsavoury head, rather than relieving herself over the side of the ship as the crew did, was put down to her class and incited many ribald comments aimed to make a well-bred boy blush. The snores, belches and farts astounded her, but she was so exhausted at the end of each day that she just tumbled into her hammock and passed out.

  Several days passed before they noticed she never stripped down to the waist on deck, as they did, for a daily wash. Harry insisted on a degree of personal cleanliness for each man and in return he ensured his crew didn’t suffer from scurvy. It was seen as a fair trade though the crew thought him overscrupulous.

  ‘Oi lad, niver seen you washing,’ one-eyed Pete called out on the third morning.

  ‘I did just now, on your blind side.’

  ‘Come to think about it, you never wash,’ said Bert.

  ‘Can’t in this cold wind,’ said Georgiana, punching her breastbone. ‘Weak lungs.’

  ‘That explains your pitiful thin chest. You need to grow some muscles, lad.’

  ‘Come here boy – time for a dunking,’ said Big Jack, swinging up a bucket, but Georgiana dodged sideways and swarmed up the ratlines to perch on one of the yardarms, laughing at the older man who was far too heavy to come in pursuit.

  ‘I’ll get you later, young George,’ he called up, but she knew he was only teasing.

  Georgiana had fitted into the crew with relative ease for she was a quick learner and what she lacked in physical strength she made up for in spirit and was fearless aloft. Having endured constant rejections in the ballroom these past few years, she now basked in the grudging acceptance of the crew.

  Jack put the bucket down and the men began to go about their chores so she descended from the rigging, dropping onto a barrel. Old memories stirred and, tensing her muscles, she did a back flip onto the deck. The men paused and a few laughed.

  ‘You’re a proper little monkey, you are,’ said Bert. ‘Go on, show us what else you can do.’

  Her performer’s blood stirred. Georgiana did two handspring somersaults – not easy on the cramped deck. She rose, a little breathless and giddy, to find Harry in front of her.

  ‘The circus?’

  She nodded. ‘But I’m out of practice. When I was a child I could do six or seven at a time.’

  He grinned, tousling her hair. ‘You’re still a child.’

  ‘Not such a child,’ she thought, as he sauntered over to Stephen. He said something and they both laughed. As always, he was dressed in salt-marked trousers, his shirt sleeves loosely rolled. His thick black hair was windblown, but he’d shaved this morning and Georgiana had the strangest impulse to run her finger along that strong jaw.

  Unconsciously, she touched her hair where his fingers had been. Then she shook herself. Stop that! He’s the captain and you are nothing but a grubby schoolboy playing at being a sailor, George, my boy.

  These were words she’d told herself not just once but a score of times these past few days. The captain was, to put it frankly, a distraction. He was the fly in her ointment, the spanner in her works. She was vividly aware of him and whenever his shadow touched hers – as it did a dozen times a day – cracks threatened her carefully created façade.

  Resolutely putting unruly thoughts from her mind, she picked up the bucket Jack had abandoned and swung it over the side of the ship to get more water. Scrubbing the deck was not hard, but it presented challenges in manoeuvring around the busy crew and the detritus that tended to strew the decks of a small working ship. Today someone had left a large barrel in her path which she tried to shift, her fingers scrabbling to find purchase on the fat, smooth sides.

  ‘Out the way, George.’ Harry was back beside her. ‘You’ll never move that.’

  Harry always seemed to be everywhere at once, throwing himself into the hard physical side of work alongside the men: hauling on sheets, stacking the hold. Now she watched as he hoisted the barrel to his shoulder. His knees braced, Harry shifted weight until it was balanced then walked with lithe grace across the deck. She couldn’t help but notice the play of muscles down his back under the worn shirt, the easy stretch of his long limbs.

  ‘Thanks, Captain,’ she called out in a gruff voice as he set it down and the offhand smile he tossed at her before he walked away again made unfamiliar but delicious things happen in her stomach. Sighing, she picked up the scrubbing brush and set to her task with frustrated energy.

  Her guise was, she had to acknowledge, invaluable in more ways than one. Harry treated George with casual approval, but Georgiana, she knew, would have been overlooked for more beautiful girls. She could almost hear her aunt’s querulous voice. ‘If you don’t learn to act like a lady, you will never attract a gentleman.’

  Was Harry a gentleman?

  Georgiana still found it hard to place him. He had the voice and manner of a lord, but these were belied by his dishevelled appearance and his profession. Yet though he was only a sea captain while she was Miss Bellingham of Ashton Hall, he was far out of her league.

  Self-hatred needled her heart. Even her own cousin would only marry her for gold. A man like Harry would never see anything in a girl like her. Better by far to stay George forever, she thought bitterly. Then, with a shrug, she managed a smile. After all, George was having a far more exciting time than Georgiana’d ever had in the past seven years.

  As she was finishing up, Alec shouted, ‘George, get me more salt. Move your arse, boy. I haven’t got all day.’

  Fetching things from the hold was one job she didn’t like and she grimaced. The air was fetid down in the bowels of the ship, and as she descended into the darkness she could hear the scurry of rats. Georgiana groped her way through the barrels and had just reached the sacks with salt when she heard a heavy person drop into the hold behind her.

  ‘What are you doing down here, fancy boy?’

  Mack’s voice was low and oily. The air down the hold suddenly seemed thicker; the rats fell silent. Georgiana backed away though she kept her own voice neutral. ‘Just getting some salt for Alec.’

  ‘Not thieving?’

  She could see him approaching in the gloom, his bulk blocking out the thin ribbon of light that spilled down the ladder behind him.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You could be punished for having your fingers where they don’t belong.’ His voice rasped with menace. ‘Don’t do for fancy boys to go where they didn’t ought.’

  Georgiana felt the damp side of the hold at her back, trapping her. Mack stepped closer and the sour stench of his sweat stung in her nostrils. Above she could hear footsteps and a man whistling, but he could have been a million miles away. Her heart was suddenly too big for her chest and air squeezed out of her lungs. Still, she strove to sound normal.

  ‘You can get the salt if you prefer, but we’d better be quick. Alec doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

  Mack hissed and move
d even closer, his breath hot on her face. ‘You telling me what to do? I’m not one of your lackeys, boy. We aren’t in your world now.’

  Georgiana pressed back hard against the timbers and hunched her shoulders as she saw his hand clench. His fist rose with the slow, deliberate control of a bully out to extract every ounce of fear. Her breath caught as violent images surged into her mind, Mack jumping on her fallen body and discovering—

  The sailor’s fist was now in direct line with her face, his arm pulled well back to maximise the punch. Georgiana flung up her arms to ward off the impending blow at the very moment a voice, brisk and impatient, called down the ladder.

  ‘Mack, I need you on deck now!’

  Swift as a snake, his hand shot to her neck, pinioning her. Her throat constricted and convulsed, but it was impossible to make a sound as Mack called back, ‘Aye, Captain.’ But in the gloom she saw his glittering eyes had not left her face for a second. With his free hand, he placed his finger to his lips, not that it was necessary. In a malevolent undertone he added for good measure, ‘Not a peep out of you. Understand?’ She nodded, fighting to swallow. His words curdled almost soundlessly in the stale air. ‘We’ll talk again later, cos we aren’t finished, you and me.’

  ‘Oh but you are.’

  The voice was very soft and spoken directly into Mack’s ear. With an oath, Mack spun around to find Harry right behind him. Georgiana was startled too, not having heard or seen the captain’s descent.

  Harry’s voice continued soft but threaded with threat. ‘No member of my crew is to be harassed at any time, in any way. Is that understood?’

  Mack was silent.

  ‘Is that understood?’

  Each word was spoken with icy deliberation and though they were not aimed at her, Georgiana shivered. The piratical menace in the captain’s voice was even more frightening than Mack’s threats.

  ‘Understood,’ Mack muttered.

  Harry stayed very close for another second, then stepped back. ‘Take the salt with you to Alec.’

  Without a word, Mack stooped and swung the bag of salt onto his shoulder. Head averted, he made his way to the ladder and disappeared up into the square of sunlight.

  Harry turned back to Georgiana, still flattened against the sides of the hold. Her knees threatened to buckle as she fought a craven desire to sink down and burst into tears. She forced herself to stay upright but couldn’t raise her head to face Harry. Humiliation, fear and relief were all too raw to expose to his searching gaze. When Harry spoke, his voice had returned to its normal tone.

  ‘It won’t happen again on my ship, but George, you’re going to have to learn to look out for yourself. The only way to deal with threats is to meet them head on.’

  Georgiana felt strangely ashamed. George would have been braver – but Georgiana couldn’t afford to be.

  A strong hand came down onto her shoulder and squeezed it. ‘Don’t look so crestfallen, boy. Mack is a lot bigger. Still, you are going to need to toughen up and learn to keep your wits about you.’ Then he gave her a friendly shake. ‘Get along, now. Pete needs a hand with the ropes and I’ve a pile of papers awaiting my attention.’

  For Harry the incident was clearly over, but Georgiana was still shaken. If the captain hadn’t been there … Such a narrow escape. Yet how had Harry known? Bert said nothing on Sally slipped Harry’s notice and so it seemed. She’d have to be doubly careful – not only of the crew but of Harry’s uncanny instincts as well.

  It was a relief being back in the open again and Georgiana gradually regained her equilibrium as she sat in the sunshine with Pete, learning to splice ropes.

  ‘How long have you been with the captain?’

  Pete grunted. ‘Nigh on three years.’ Though his fingers were as thick as sausages, they were deft in their movements. After a pause he added, ‘Won us all, he did – Sally and crew – in a game of cards in South America.’ Georgiana made a disbelieving sound and Pete squinted at her with his one eye. ‘Don’t believe me?’

  ‘Go on then, tell me how it happened.’

  ‘We-ell, at the time he’d hardly tuppence to rub together, picking up work where he could get it in almost every corner of the world, far as I could tell. Anyway, he got into a game of poker with our Captain Belcher – a mean old bastard if ever there was one. They was both used to winning and as the night wore on they drank more and more and the money kept passing between them. Then Cap’n Trent hit a winning streak, massing up all the money they both had in one pile in front of him and he said, ‘I’ll bet it all against your ship.’

  ‘Now Belcher, he could never resist the promise of a quick win. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘but if you win, you take the stinkin’ crew wiv you. I’m not paying ’em off.’

  ‘Agreed!’ said the cap’n.’

  ‘He risked everything?’ Georgiana was incredulous. ‘But he could have been left penniless again.’

  ‘Aye, he could. But that’s how he lives life, laddie. He risks everything for what he wants. No price is too high when he’s a mind for something.’ He shrugged and grinned. ‘Such pigheadedness usually pays off for the cap’n and it did this time too. It was close, but he won. Sally – The Lady Sarah, really – is nuffing more than an old tub, but he won’t hear a word against her. The love of his life, he reckons. Mind, she’s bound for Davey Jones’ locker if some repairs aren’t made soon. The cap’n doesn’t say a lot, but I know it plagues him.’

  Georgiana held her splice out for Pete to check and was surprisingly proud of the curt nod it received. ‘How does he intend to find money in New Zealand, do you think? Surely he isn’t thinking of gold mining.’

  Pete blew out through his lips. ‘I’ve been wondering that, meself. Whatever he’s up to must be important or he’d never risk Sally in them southern oceans. But it ain’t like the cap’n to be so secretive.’

  The garrulous sailor didn’t seem to mind questions so, as though only mildly interested, she asked, ‘Any idea why the law is after him?’

  Pete shook his head and grimaced. ‘Damned if I know that either. It’s not the first time of course, but he was only on shore for not but a couple o’ days. Wouldn’t have thought a man could get into that much trouble in so short a time.’ Then he shot her a look. ‘Still, it’s not our business, boy, and the cap’n will see us right. There’s never been a tight corner he hasn’t been able to pull us out of. He has the luck of the devil, that one.’

  He seemed unperturbed and Georgiana couldn’t help asking, ‘Have you always had such faith in the captain?’

  Pete’s eyebrows quirked. ‘Nope. At first, some of us didn’t trust Cap’n Trent’s nice-talking ways at all. Twice men challenged him and in both cases the cap’n sorted it out, one on one.’ He chuckled. ‘He had them over the side of the ship in no time. Niver seen any fighting so quick and efficient-like.’

  She laughed. ‘What happened to them?’

  ‘One was left in Brazil – resented losing too much. T’other’—he glanced sideways at Georgiana—‘was me. I’m happy to stay with a cap’n what can beat me in a fair fight.’ He paused then added, ‘’sides, I’d rather have the captain on me side than against me. He’s not one to be trifled with.’

  Georgiana’s thoughts winged back to the hold; his silent speed, the naked threat in his voice. ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Aye, some are deceived by his gentleman manner, but the cap’n is a dangerous man when someone gets in his way.’

  What would the captain do with a girl who had tricked him?

  ‘Does he get very angry?’ she asked in a small voice.

  Pete shook his head. ‘No, that’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s one who fights from the head, not the heart, see. He has a temper, but when it really counts, he goes as cold and hard as steel. He don’t go looking for trouble, but trouble usually finds him. He’s g
ot a nose for it though, smells it as it sneaks up on him, then he deals to it, quick and final.’

  She could hear the admiration in Pete’s voice, but anxiety prevented her from sharing it and Georgiana decided she really did not need to know one thing more about how the captain coped with trouble. She changed the subject.

  ‘What sort of cargo does Sally carry usually?’

  Pete shrugged. ‘All sorts. Whatever the cap’n can pick up. We did a fair bit of smuggling in the early days.’ His eye gleamed, then he sighed. ‘But the need for smuggling fell away and ’sides, the cap’n was restless – he’s like the wind, that one – so off we went to the far ends of the earth. We’re a small ship so we can take the ends of consignments or small, one-off jobs. It’s taken us to some pretty strange places – the West Indies, Australia, Shanghai.’

  A shadow fell over them and Eric stood over them.

  ‘The captain wants you in his cabin immediately, George.’

  Her heart bucked against her ribs. Had he guessed her masquerade?

  Chapter Six

  Filled with trepidation, Georgiana knocked at the door, but when Harry bade her enter her fears were instantly allayed. He was mopping piles of papers which sat in pools of wine on the table. His shirt, stained red, clung to his chest.

  He glanced up, eyes narrowed in annoyance. ‘Eric, the bloody idiot, has just knocked a decanter of wine all over me and my paperwork. The writing has begun to run as you can see and I want you to make more copies before they’re illegible. You did learn that much at your lessons, I take it.’ She nodded and he grunted, ‘Well, at least we’ve found another use for you. Here, take over while I change.’

  As she took the cloth from him she saw it was a large handkerchief with the monogram HT embroidered in one corner. It was clearly a labour of love and she was surprised by a stab of a new emotion as her fingers turned to claws around it.